How Far We've Come

Well, here's what I have to show for it. This probably isn't every route I ran in Paris, but it's pretty close.

See it larger by clicking the image or by clicking here.

Please note: This is not a show of any athletic prowess. Believe me--it's not. But as evidence of my exposure to the place, it feels like a pretty cool cultural document. If you have Google Earth and want to look around the map of my year any more, you can get the file here.

See y'all soon!

Love,
HD

Arroyo con Polo, or In Spain in the Membrane

Barcelona was delicious. Sorry there are so many photos--we don't usually stay three nights anywhere.

Actually, one of the most memorable episodes was completely unphotographed: When Drue awoke with a possible migraine around 4:15 on the last morning of our visit, I (who speaks no Spanish nor Catalan) was eventually dispatched to walk through el Raval, the largely immigrant and once-red-light neighborhood of inner Barcelona, filled with bodegas and hostels. In the nearly deserted, predawn alleys, I met hushed greetings of "¿Quieres cervesa, amigo? ¿Hashish?" saw nine women waiting for a bus in the dark, and watched men with cans of beer resting on overturned bistro tables shouting jokes and catcalls to the staff of the Brazilian chain bakery that was open early. The pharmacist at the all night farmàcia 1.5 km from our place in the Universitat neighborhood spoke no English but got me fixed up with algo para dolor de cabeza y náuseas for a fraction of what the same medicine would have cost in Paris.

Now I'm racking my brain to figure out how to get back to Spain.

Meanwhile, three days left in Paris. A week from tonight, we'll be back in the land of the free. Can't wait to see you all and hear about your adventures from these past eight months.

Spainful Memories

Love,

HD

Birthday Weekend, Now with More Gribous!

Places Held

We're in the middle of wild times. I just finished work on my first law degree; I'm writing from the second of six countries (including our layovers on the way back to D.C.) we will enter in these two weeks; we're out of euros, exhausted, and preparing for reverse culture shock. Life is good.

Anyway, we will update soon. If you want a soundtrack for these two weeks, this is pretty much it: http://grooveshark.com/album/Clandestino/121297

We hope your tax filings went smoothly.

Love,

HD

Les Bulles d'Epernay, or the Train to Champagne Splays Blainly on the Fssst...

My good fortune is overwhelming and embarrassing.

Les Bulles d'Epernay

Giverny le printemps

Les Mouches sur la Seine

Around Paris

The Air Moroccan, or "There are times when I don't want to be the center of attention, like when I'm pooping and when I'm finding the riad."

Two nights in Marrakech. Beautiful, chaotic, senseless, delicious, hospitable, dirty, sweaty, sad--anyone who knows me shouldn't be surprised I loved it. As usual, I should probably let the photos do the talking. (And, yes, I did wear the same shirt for three days.)

The Air Moroccan

Everything still smells vaguely of donkey and turmeric. Pretty surreal to have the drop-your-bags, collapse-into-bed, familiar-shower-head feeling of home and be in Paris.

Love,
HD

Around Paris

Donna's Here!

Coma in Roma, or Non Pablo Italiano

Well, we did it, folks. We walked the tar out of the old cradle, made like Audrey and Peck, and imagined what our beVespaed life would look like living on any of the tiny streets painted in gloriously cheerful colors. We hung around in buildings as old as dirt. We ate our weight in house-cured meats, homemade pasta, and pizza. We routinely drank some of the best coffee of our lives. (This was honestly a highlight of the trip. As we've observed, the French mysteriously and with shocking consistency fail to comprehend the elements and value of a truly good cup of coffee.) We felt the faint disappointment of being constantly shilled to in English, as if they knew we were coming before we did. And we found where the Romans eat, where diners between shouts and laughs watched the only couple in the place not speaking Italian. We found our way back to the hotel and slept like the dead. We even got a little sunburned.

It's been two weeks back. We miss Rome every day and can't wait to get out and see the next set of wonders.

Rome January 2012

New Year's Eve & My Birthday

On New Year's Eve we had some friends over to make mexican food. Everyone was feeling a little burnt out on baguette and cheese... who knew it was possible, right? In keeping with the theme of the evening, Michelle and CJ fashioned a homemade giraffe pinata for my birthday! Around 11:00pm we headed down to the river with bottles of champagne to watch the Eifel Tower light up at midnight. We stood on one of the bridges, overlooking the Sein and toasted 2012! The streets were packed with people cheering and singing. It was quite a way to ring in the new year and my 28th birthday!

Birthday & New Years Eve