Hahn, Henry, and I arrived into Amsterdam on June 19. It was my second time for for H&H, it was like the first time they've ever shagged on a bear rug. As they say, the second time is always better than the first. O yea. Maybe it’s cuz I hung out with just doods who were down for whatever. Or maybe it’s cuz I saw Van Gogh’s masterpieces armed with augmented senses. Or perhaps, chillin’ with a local friend really gave a true sense of what the ‘dam was like. Whatever it was, the ingredients were just right for a chill, dope visit.
Henry ‘illin in front of our hostel conveniently located across the red light district
how clever is that? weeeell... it's more clever under the influence
local friends + us posing stupidly on a bridge like tourists
Animal boppers rejoice!
I missed my flight to Barcelona so I was stuck in Amsterdam another day. After wallowing in misery, downing a 40, and then passing out next to a dirty street bum outside a bestiality establishment, I woke up with a sense of purpose. I parked my bike and trained it to Holland for the windmills and wooden shoe factory.
Clean energy solution
Won’t be seeing these in sex in the city episodes
Life in da nederlands looks like this
and like this...
Arriving into Barcelona that night, we took it easy and clubbed til 5 in the morning. The next, we sauntered around Las Ramblas, a really crowded street that’s reminiscent of 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica. We then spent nearly an hour looking for bike rentals, nearly causing some members of the party to pop a vein. Foursquare and a yonder later, we geared up and rode to La Sagrada de Familia, Gaudi’s final masterpiece. There’s so much to see on every square inch of it and alas, my Canon could not do it justice.
As detailed as a renaissance painting
Another Gaudi work
Fast forward a day of driving the BMW X3 through Zaragoza and Pamplona, narrowly missing the running of the bulls by one friggin week, we end up in San Sebastian. I imagined SS to be on a very green and plush plateau with scary steep cliffs that drop off into denser foliage or the ocean, not unlike La Jolla. I was not disappointed. We stayed in an apartment in El Centro near the beaches. One beach for lounging, and one for sarfin was just what the doctor ordered. My shoulders gave out even in the waist-chest highs but it was still fun getting put through the rinse. The pinxos, a tapas-like food in the Basque country, made of bread and mysterious topping consisted of about half of our diet the three days we're there. Hoofin it the entire time, it was too bad we never got the chance to scooter or mountain bike the terrain there but we nonetheless got some magnificent views from our car. Driving off the beaten path on dirt roads behind houses one night, the X3 did well to scurr the gurls.
O! What a glorious morning. Time to hang my laundry.
Lke a watercolor
Looking at the island where we shall eat the next night thanks to a very diligent Henry
The chill beach, La Concha
From la concha
The second day, we drove to Bilbao to see the Guggenheim. Not much to it on the inside but dayam, it’s got super sweet skin.
The goog. And the spider.
Exactly what I had in mind for San Sebastian. Met expectations
Exceeded expectations
Significantly exceed expectations. La Concha beach from the restaurant
Food was good. View was great
Winin’ and dinin’ the nite away
Drawn to the city like moths to a flame
Leaving San Sebastian, we drive east along the French/Spanish border. Lush and heavily forested, the border was a delight to drive. The twisty Pyrenees mountain roads were littered with switch backs, S curves, and blind turns to my delight. Hours of intense X3 pounding were broken up by stops to soak in the view and to grub.
The quaintness of the frenchies
Just imagine the views…
Nevermind, no need to. Girls included with view.
Somewhere in the middle of the Pyrenees at 11 in the night, we stop by a roadside town called Vilaller. The deserted mile long strip of buildings, deafening quiet, and a smattering of lonely cars here and there sent a twilight zone shiver up my spine. Everyone else felt the same because as soon as we noticed one man staring at us from the 2nd floor of a building and another from the roof, we all muttered “uhhhh” in unison. These bearded, shadowy figures did not look nice. At this point, we weren’t sure whether we should just ignore the strange vibe and head into a restaurant or bounce outta town. Our decision was made easy when the strangest scene straight out of a horror flick played in front of our eyes. A young girl, in her early teens, popped up out of thin air and skipped her way directly past our group, humming a tune. She was walking her dog. They paid absolutely no attention to a completely foreign group of Asian people loitering on the dead street of her small town hidden away in one of the many folds of the Pyrenees mountains at 11pm. I think her head might have turned 180 as she skipped past us but that could be my imagination. Creeeeeepy. As soon as she disappeared around the corner (into an alley?), we just looked at each other in wide eyed terror and scrambled for the car. I floored us all the way outta dodge, heart pounding against my chest with frenzied hysteria erupting from the rest of the gang.
A lonely trucker perv’s wet dream
Blissful sunset
Our last Saturday in Barcelona, we scootered over to Parc de Montjuic for a night where museums, art centers, theatres, gardens, and sport centers on the mountain are open all night til 3 in the morning. Good, clean, adult and family fun, there are over 50 events at 24 events in the park. We saw the Olympic museum, saw a hiphop dance party, and passed by numerous other events. But alas, we missed the pool party and the remote control car racing. =(
This thing's chillin in the Olympic museum at 2 stories tall
Thanks for the good times kids
