Kazan — summer 2012

One of my friends in Russia asked me to bring her a few items. What, you may reasonably ask, does a Russian citizen who has previously been in the US want me to bring her? She wants:

• An iPad 3. iPads are significantly more expensive in Russia.
• Two packages of semi-sweet chocolate morsels — She got in the habit of making chocolate chip cookies in the US and wants to make some more. That's not a standard item on Russian grocery story shelves. Nor is peanut butter. The latter I never miss. I can't even think of the last time I ate peanut butter. It's like cilantro. Why the hell would I put that in mouth?
• A children's book in Spanish, purchased during my trip to Spain. She wants to expose her child early to foreign languages. Do you hear that, America? That's why the rest of the world is going to outpace us over the next 100 years, because we keep doing asinine things like the "English only" legislation in AZ. There is so much to be proud of in the US, but things like that simply make us look like assholes.

She doesn't know it yet, but I will also bring her a "Smart Cover" for her iPad, which allows you to put your iPad in a standing position either in landscape or portrait position. A new mother can use the things that free her hands when dealing with a newborn.

I will try to bring her as well either the book "On Beyond Zebra," my favorite Dr. Seuss Book, or "Amigo," the story of a boy's friendship with a prairie dog. I grew up on both of the books, and the Dr. Seuss' one I seriously think influenced my life toward studying languages.

I'm going to link Amazon on both of those books below. That probably seems really capitalist, but I snatched the images from there, so it only seems fair.

Just bought some transport tickets for Barcelona:

• The hop-on/hop-off bus — it takes you around the tourist highlights of the city, and you can get on/off as often as you like and stay as long as you like at the various stops. Actually, as long as I get to La Sagrada Familia and Park Guell I'll be happy.
• The Barcelona Card — gives you transport on the RENFRE train to downtown, which is worth the price right there, compared to a taxi, and entry to various museums and discounts at various restaurants.

I'm starting to get excited!

Right after I purchased the tickets, I got a call from the Citibank fraud department. Nice to know they are on their toes. Tomorrow I'll call my banks/cards and let them know my travel plans. Gotta do that so they don't give me problems while I'm away.

I rarely shop for myself, but when a trip is coming I do a quick eyeball of my wardrobe and ask, "Which of these would make my acquaintances most ashamed?" Then I buy something to replace them. So I now have new shoes, new shirts, new pants, and a new toothbrush. I didn't actually buy the new toothbrush, but I had my teeth cleaned yesterday, and the dental hygienist can't even look at me without giving me a new toothbrush or two. I would be offended, but she doubtless does this with everybody. And my dentist has informed it's time for two more crowns. She tried to sell me on porcelain last time. To hell with that! I want to fill my mouth with gold! Porcelain is for toilets, and I'll thank you for not comparing my mouth with one of those.

Another Russian acquaintance has requested a new iPad, so I'm carrying two to Russia. Hope the customs folks don't ream me about that. In the Frankfurt airport I'll buy cognac for my Russian landlord, and some European chocolate for someone else. I've bought perfume for various female acquaintances, and I think that about covers the gifts. If I were smart, I would pick up a couple of pocket knives just in case I need to give gifts to guys, but I always spend more of my time in Russia with women. Hmph. Wonder how that happens. Oh, yeah... language teachers are almost always women in Russia. Mystery solved.

Last summer in Russia I lost ten pounds. Of course, I gained it all back and more when I returned to Whataburgerland. I'm curious what will happen this year, so my official starting weight for the summer is 198 lbs. Embarrassing.

My travels today have been mercifully uneventful.

Phx-Chicago: 3.5 hours. Slept most of the way. Very short layover. Didn't even bother to eat.

Chicago-Frankfurt am Main: 8.5 hours. My seatmate on the left was Ardi, a dentist of Persian descent who lives in Denver and both practices and teaches dentistry. Pleasant guy. My seatmate on the right was Jan, a teacher of Spanish, French and English. Liked her a lot. She was heading to Croatia for some vacation action which was to include a dinner with 13 paired wine samplings. I hope she remembers the experience. Ardi and Jan completely justified the traditional male-female distinction of non-talkers/talkers. Ardi answered only when prompted, the pleasant and polite, and Jan talked my ear off. This was also my first flight on a 747, which frankly didn't seem all that different from any other plane, except that the experience of the landing was somehow gentler than I expected.

Frankfurt airport: I have two pieces of check-in luggage because I'm hauling textbooks to Russia in the second one. Didn't want to carry them to Barcelona, so I stored one in the "left luggage" department. That will be cheaper than even a one-way extra-bag charge. Then grabbed lunch at one of the restaurants.

The salad was unremarkable, except that the carrot strings were very, very long. Kind of irked me at first. Had to use a knife to cut the salad up. Took extra time. And then I reminded myself that I wasn't at Whataburger. Not every meal in life is supposed to go by in seventeen bites and four minutes. Civilized people slow down and take pleasure in the eating event. Oh, yeah. I forgot about that civilization thing.

The main course was a veal and mushroom combination in a very tasty veal gravy, accompanied by a potato pancake. Regular pancakes I can live without, but potato pancakes are a thing of glory, especially when dripping in veal gravy or sour cream. Glorious!

I still had some major time to kill in the airport, so I walked the length of the A concourse several times, thus reminding myself of the lesson that you should never wear new shoes on vacation. Break your shoes in at home for a month before hand. I'm probably going to have some major blisters tomorrow.

The flight to Barcelona I half slept through. Damn, but those Germans are efficient. They manage to service the whole cabin twice in less than an hour. The other day on "The Big Bang Theory" Sheldon commented that the Germans are a comforting people. My immediate thought was, "That's because you're not a Jew, Sheldon." But Sheldon could have used today's amazing customer service to support his point.

As we approached Barcelona I was very excited as we flew briefly out over the Mediterranean, although at this point we should probably call it "The Sea of ...". I've never been on this body of water before. The airport was very nice and had great signage. I found my way to the Tourism Bureau, where they issued me the transportation and tour tickets I had purchased. Then made my way to the other terminal where I connected with the train to downtown. My hotel is perhaps a quarter block away from the main trainstation. Let me tell you, that 5-day Barcelona Card is worth it just to avoid two taxi fares. The taxi prices are ridiculous here. Weird thing, though. I don't think I have ever felt as stared at as I did on the train into town. Wonder what triggered that?

I established myself in the Torre Catalunya, allegedly a four-star hotel, although I expect they call it that because they have four stars on the outside... Anyway, I registered. Romina, the clerk, made a good impression on me. I got to my room and none of the lights worked. Hm. That's odd. I go back downstairs, and she mentions that she forgot to tell me that one of the switches next to the inner lock is actually a card-key reader. It won't allow any of the electrical outlets or lights to work unless the card is inserted. Hm. That's kind of clever. That way when I leave the room with my card-key, all the lights and AC go off, saving electricity.

Finally in my room with lights working, I discover I forgot my power cord adapter. Asked the desk where to buy one. They simply gave me one for the duration. Spiffy! Then I asked where to walk first in the city, and I was told to wander down Avinguda de Roma. Found a tapas bar where I tried two types of tapas. The jamón ibérico and the chorizo (not like Mexican chorizo) were very tasty. Tasty, but not enough meat and too much bread. Gary Taubes would not approve.

I decided to plug in my Russian cell phone to start the recharge. It's been sitting in my home for a year, so I figured it wouldn't have any juice left. So I turned it on... lo, it has about a two-thirds charge left. And it immediately knows I'm in Spain and sends me a text-message saying I could use roaming in Spain via Movistar, which is one of Spain's largest telecom companies. Wow. So I go to the website or my Russian phone company to double check how much money I have left on the account. I had topped it off before I left Russia last year so that I wouldn't have to re-establish service when I returned. I had assumed that the amount on the phone would be drained by now, but no. I have a bundle or rubles left on it. Cool! I guess I won't have to buy a new SIM card for my few days in Spain after all.

Not sure what I will do tomorrow, aside from eat till I burst. Sunday is a slow day in Barcelona, and as long as I get rested up, I will be happy. So I'll wrap this up with a glarey view through my window: