No Tour Guide Needed

Getting lost and finding adventures around the world!

Why you should ride the public bus when traveling

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One thing I love to do in a different city is to ride the public bus.  I’ll talk about my obsession with the hop-on-hop-off buses later.  For now, I am going to tell you how much I love public buses.

Living in Houston, our buses primarily take you to the suburbs and downtown.  We don’t have a lot of bus routes from where people live within the city.  But when I go to other cities, the buses tell you everything you want to know.

I have seen very rich people, very poor people, mothers, business men, gypsies, babies, everyone you can imagine on a bus.  Where are all these people going.

In Paris, you can get on Bus 42 or Bus 69 and they will take you pretty much where you want to go.  You can just ride along and see all the major attractions.    (Here is the route for Bus 69)

Generally when we need to go far, we think of taking the subway first (faster), then the bus, then walk, then a cab.

One time, we were sitting on bus 42 and this guy sits down.  On first glance, I thought he was homeless.  Then I changed my opinion to eccentric.  He had on a deep red three piece suit, very flamboyant hat, and a very large decorative purse.  Then all of a sudden I realized, this guy isn’t homeless.  This guy is wearing top end clothing.  He is just seriously eccentric.  It was amazing to see this.  I wish I could find a photo of him (cue the hubs to start looking for one).

Anyway, if you find yourself in a city, check out it’s bus route for a free (or cheap) thing to do.  It is people watching at its finest.

My hair hates vacation and let’s me know the whole time…

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I have a LOT of hair on my head.  It takes the lady who cuts it two hours.  It is wavy and straight.  Kinky and heavy.  It can’t decide what it wants to do.  The only thing that all of the stands can agree on is that they don’t like to be in another city, with different water and strange shampoos.

After I wash my hair if I want to look halfway presentable I have to spend a hour drying, straightening, etc.  I go to the DryBar a lot.

In our latest trip to Paris, I decided I did not have room in my bag for my special round brush.  That’s just an excuse to go to Sephora and purchase a new one in Paris.

Sephora in Paris does not carry brushes.

I walked into the big Sephora on the Champs and it was so loud and party central.  Everyone was enjoying themselves.  Except for me with my hair in a bun and needing some loving.

I was told to go to a pharmacy.  Easy, one across from my hotel.

No brushes.

Days went buy.  The hubs renamed me Annie.  I am not sure for the kinky hair of orphan Annie or Raggedy Ann.  Regardless, my hair is sorta red and he thinks he is funny.

After several Sephora attempts (yes I was in denial) I finally found a place that sold brushes (and nail polish – yippy).

I read lots of articles (like this one) that advise people to leave stuff at home.  You do not need a guitar, or a coffee maker, but you know what you need.  I will be buried with my special round brushes, hair oils and curlers.  But if you don’t have this issue, maybe you can do with out.

Lesson learned.  Toothbrush and deodorant stay.  Brushes are coming with me.

Peace and Love.

Why can’t I have just a little slice of Spanish tortilla?????

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Traveling brings you closer to humanity.  You get to see people outside of your culture and hopefully you expand your little box of understanding the world a bit more.  The more you travel the better the box you are in gets and the more engaged you are while traveling leads to better experiences.  That’s why I love tapas bars in Madrid.

In other restaurants you sit at a table and formally eat.  In a tapas bar, one you are in a bar, you generally are standing or resting your butt on a barstool and it is usually crowded.  It is crowded because it is small.  How many people can you fit into a small area?  A tapas bar owner is an expert.

Cleanliness isn’t really a priority.  I don’t mean this badly.  Wipe your mouth with a napkin and then throw it on the floor.  Then remember we are in a bar.  There will be beer spilled.

And there are no decisions to be made.  When you go to a regular bar: what kind of beer do you want, what do you want to eat.  No.. not in a tapas bar.  You want beer, you get a beer.  You MIGHT be able to say what size.  If you want wine, you get red.  Maybe white.  and then you get what you get when they give you the food.  Generally the more beer you order the better the food.

First round is chips, second olives, then maybe potato, etc.  I mean, you can order food in some places but that defeats the purpose of letting someone give you a little food.  If you want to order food, go to a restaurant.  Unless of course, you are done drinking and just want more food.  But even then, get going so someone else can have your space at the bar. (did I mention the good tapas bars are packed?)

So, the hubs and I are in a a tapas bar in Madrid on our last trip.  He loves Spanish tortilla.  He asks the very angry looking owner if he can have a very small slice.  She tells him “no, slices come in one size only”.  Now if you don’t know what Spanish tortilla is, you basically make a cake using sliced potatoes and eggs.  If you were in a bakery and said you want a small slice, they’d probably smile and think of the amount of money they were saving.

The angry woman only wanted to sell one size – large.  We hate wasting food.

Then we saw her take the customer’s uneaten olives and put them back in the main jar.  Glad we didn’t get the slice.  Ugh.

But my point is that you cannot go imposing rules in a place that is by its nature supposed to be casual and laid back.   She lost money that day.  She could have charged the hubs a full amount and had extra to give someone else.  Or she could have just given him a small sliver that he wanted.  Rather she drove us away.

If you find yourself in Madrid in a tapas bar with an owner that won’t compromise on a slide of tortilla, remember not to eat the olives either.

Additional Bonus

BTW… When I got home, I made a delicious one for us.  It was really easy to make and the hubs gobbled it up.  I even cut him small slices to eat :).

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/spanish-tortilla-recipe0.html

 

 

Beware of the man with the rollerblades…

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My hubs and I both like to take photos.  I am more of an “oh look, click, let’s go, maybe it turned out okay”.  He is much more methodical, taking his time and getting the best shot.

We were in Paris walking around.  Both of us have been known to piss people off by taking photos of them, their dog, their shoes, etc.  We weren’t doing any of this.  Just minding our own business discussing where to get a bite to eat.

And then he saw us.

I am not sure if he was homeless, on the way there, or just really eccentric.  For some reason he thought we were taking a photo of him.  Shit got real, quick.

Normally people just look at you with distaste.  They’ll get over it.

I have never been assaulted with French the way this man screamed at us.  “Do not take my photo!”  “No photo” “No camera”.  Since we were not taking pictures, we were a little perplexed.    I would except this of the woman whose dog was in a baby cart and I had to film it…. but first the guy was not doing anything that warranted a photo and second, we weren’t taking photos.

So the guy is screaming and wailing his hands around.  And then we both see it…..

He is in roller-blades.  As he comes toward us he stops.  Sits down, continues screaming “no photo”.  Then he looks down and realizes he needs to tie his skates.   We quickly retreated.

But the guy taught me a lesson.  I never really cared if you wanted your pic taken or not.  Now, if you are screaming in roller-blades, I think I’ll check to see if your laces are tied first.

I only recommend products or services I use personally (unless noted) and believe will be good for my readers. I will disclose if compensation was made for the publication. All opinions and photographs are mine (unless noted).

Contact: Shelia@NoTourGuideNeeded.com

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