Costa del Sol

27 02 2010

So tomorrow we are heading to the Mediterranean coast of southern Spain–to a little resort town about 40 minutes west of Málaga. We’re going to be there for a full week and I absolutely can’t wait.

My parents weren’t able to use their Marriott winter property this year and so gave us the AMAZING present of booking the week for us on the costa del sol!

We picked up our Seville & Andalusia book at the mall today and now I am just so excited for the beautiful weather, sun, beach, sand, Andalusian food, white washed towns and maybe (just a little) Sangria at sunset.

Posting will be lighter during this week, but I will hopefully upload some pictures when I can.  Happy March Everyone—and a slowly-waking spring!





Early Morning Moving Clouds

23 02 2010





St. Barnabás the Patient

18 02 2010

You have to believe me when I say it started with this duck costume, which was intended to be for Carnival. Yes a little jokey, perhaps, but no harm in it.

But then our carnival costume shopping ended.  And then next aisle over there were sales upon sales upon sales of little clothes. So I rummaged around in my head for an excuse and came up with a good one– I needed Barnabás to model for me as I tested out the aperture and shutter speed settings on my new camera. Barnabás with a little outfit on would be perfect for depth of field experiments, I convinced myself.

But when I saw the pictures uploading of Barnabás in his office-wear, I knew we had taken it too far.

Then I received an email from my mother, and I was sure that when I opened it, she would set me straight about Barnabás’ costumes getting a little out of hand. (After all, I had written to her explaining the challenges of his size– boys’ 24 months, though his hips are skinny and his belly occasionally sags after long weekends.)  But instead of a well-deserved critique, she told me that her dog, Coco Elaine Jewell, was probably (she wasn’t sure) a 3T.  Toddler that is.  3 years old.  She does have a thick neck.

You have to understand that Barnabás really is a care-free soul, as long as he can always hang out with us.  Sometimes when he gets up from the couch, he drags the blanket that was covering him around for hours. He’ll lay down with it somewhere else, then move again, taking it with him. And honestly he would carry around a baked potato on his head if I asked him too, and I gave him a little treat.  I think he genuinely likes taking pictures now (probably because he knows that all photography sessions end in a salami or bone). And I know I’m not the only one who does these things.  Coco Elaine Jewell got a Martha Stewart bed for Christmas.  And a pearl necklace.

According to the amazing Horizon documentary I watched a few nights ago– Secret Life of the Dog– since they mapped the dog genome and went through half a century of research into dog’s domestication–we now know that dogs are closer to humans in terms of behavior than even chips. Smart dogs can even perform analytical thinking skills, can retrieve objects after being shown pictures of the objects– understand that one things REPRESENTS another thing.  This is something that not even human toddlers can do until 2 or 3 years old. Dogs respond to pointing even though they don’t exhibit this behavior in the wild. And scientists in Hungary found that, like humans, dogs look directly into the left eye of humans to gauge emotion (just like humans do). If you are a dog-lover, you honestly need to find that documentary on Youtube and watch it.

And I’m not saying that Barnabás is some kind of genius for sitting still when he wears a duck costume. Or for falling asleep halfway through our photo shoots.

But he is patient. And damn cute.





Stuhleck

15 02 2010

We drove into Semmering at night after a late departure from Budapest. Stuhleck at Spital am Semmering is the highest summit of the Eastern Alps and is the largest ski resort in East Austria. It’s also a very easy three-hour drive from Budapest. That is if your Garmin GPS is working correctly and doesn’t have any trouble guiding you around a closed mountain tunnel pass.  And doesn’t take you up the entire opposite face of the mountain where there are no lights and suspiciously no cars.  And then doesn’t suggest that you try to drive up a utility road with about 2 feet of snow on it.  And then doesn’t suggest you drive all the way down the mountain weaving through hair-pin steep turns, turn around, and then drive up again as the Alps blizzard is doing everything it can to test out those new Audi back-wheel drive quattro power system…

But we eventually made it.  And we didn’t end up in a ditch at the summit of the Eastern Alps. And the moon was so beautiful glowing behind the mountains we were almost able block out the quite perilous situation we were in.  After all, we were going snowboarding in the morning. So it was worth it.

The hotel was snow-covered and pretty much exactly how you would imagine a guest house on the slopes. Outside there was a small pub where on Saturday a brass band was playing as people sipped Austrian wheat beer at the tables and on the sun chairs, and rotisserie chickens sizzled on the open-air spit.


The weather on Friday was amazing. Sun so bright you almost couldn’t feel the freezing temperatures because your skin was too busy filling itself with rays. From the lifts, the trees looked exactly how I would imagine them in ancient, northern forests. These evergreens look hardy, for sure, survivors in temperatures and altitudes where other plant life just can’t make it.

At full speed it would take maybe 30 minutes to get down the mountain from the very top. Though I can’t be sure.  We weren’t going full speed, and we often pulled over to the side to just sit down and admire the view. The light was so bright that my point-and-shoot camera couldn’t discern the sparse cloud-cover for distant snow-covered ranges. But trust me, it’s magnificent.

At almost the top there was a great restaurant where people would stop to eat lunch and have a drink. On Friday we had the daily offer, which I think every single person in that huge venue was also eating:

To our credit we didn’t drink any beer until we made it all the way down. If you are at nice grocer you may be able to get Edelweiss, which is an excellent wheat beer. I’m not a big fan of fancy beers myself, but it was really good. And for Györgyi who is typically Hungarian, therefore a wine-drinker, she said she really enjoyed the Edelweiss. (Though last year when she had it she said it tasted like banana bread, so maybe you shouldn’t take her advice.)

The more I go snowboarding, the more I can understand those people who abandon their office jobs, move to a little ski town, and become a ski or snowboarding bum. Amid the pines and peaks it almost seems reasonable, especially mid-February when the sun feels like a warm, velvet blanket. But for now I’m going to have to be a weekend snowboarder, and try to enjoy any time and peace I do have on the mountain.





Boots & Alps

11 02 2010

In a few hours we’re leaving for Austria’s Eastern Alps. I’ve been hearing amazing things about the resort and I can’t wait to snowboard above the cloud line. [And dutifully write about it as well--ahh the difficulties we traveling travel writers face].

Györgyi bought me an early early birthday present. I just adore Burton’s preppy line.

Now of course I’m going to have to accessorize with a new jacket and board. It wouldn’t be fair to the shoes to mismatch.

We will be staying mid-mountain, so I’m not sure if they will have internet access.  If so, I’ll post a slope report.  Otherwise, pics and stories when we return.





Koriander

8 02 2010

Duh.  Everyone knows that Coriandrum sativum, the annual herb in the Apiaceae family familiarly named “coriander” is known in the Americas as cilantro.

Except for me.  Which is mildly devastating to the picture that I have of myself as a culinary saveur. More distressing, perhaps, is that I have long given up the hope of finding cilantro here, thus giving up an array of my favorite foods.  What is wrong with me?  How could I have not known this?

I’m so sorry Nigella.  I don’t deserve you, and I never did.

I could make an excuse here about the English to Hungarian language barrier, but Koriander is a pretty easy cognate to grasp.

So anyway, on Saturday, Györgyi called our local, upscale foodie market in town: Culinaris. “Cilantro?–please hold… Koriander? Of course we have Koriander…”

OMG

So I dashed there on my little Mexican flavored wings and snatched up the last batch. (The shortage was due to the other American ex-pats in Budapest, whose numbers are never more clearly expressed than at every holiday when there is a surprising shortage of Tortilla chips and avocados.)

Behold–the herb of the gods:

And since yesterday was Superbowl Sunday, I graced Györgyi with my salsa recipe. And bless her Hungarian heart, she loved it.

In honor of this great moment in my life in Hungary, I will post my favorite cilantro-dance of all time. Which I have done several times since we found it here and will do it again, and in public.

(The greatest animated character of all time, from the genius–yes I said it–genius, American Dad!):





Joy in Winter

2 02 2010

Not that we wouldn’t go to Margit Island alone in the winter. Cold air is good for the lungs. But there is something about walking around the cool, empty and snowcovered island property with a little cocker spaniel who is so enthralled in his joy of exploration, that just makes every winter morning one I want to spend in that moment there.

A few weeks ago we decided to go to the island. It was early morning–maybe 6 or 6:30 when we finally arrived. The sun hadn’t really tried coming up yet, but even when it did, it didn’t get very far.  Just a little fire lit in the distance:

It didn’t even seem like anyone was awake at the usually bustling Saturday morning spa. Covered by the leafless trees, the building looked like a haunted house.

Since there weren’t any people, I turned my camera to the peaking grasses,

frozen limbs,

and unplucked winter berries frozen in time.

As morning approached, the birds left their warm nests for food, passed the water tower still caught in the fog of previous centuries.

It would be nice to write that our little Barnabás goes tumbling after the birds. But he’s nearly blind and can’t see almost anything there, especially in that hazy, low morning winter light.

He runs for the pure joy of running.  The smells and texture of the snow.  Follows our voices calling to him from the distances when he’s gotten distracted by a trail.  O, Mornings of Pure & Innocent Happiness–you’re worth waking up for.








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