Cheese: the glue of friendship

It may be many years of friendship (Brooke: 21 years, Lindsey 8 years, Nicole: 4 years) that have bonded me to my best friends. It may be our shared memories, like high school shenanigans and malicious mischief with Brooke and Lindsey, or the past summer we spent backpacking Europe. Nicole and I's college memories of freshman dorm debauchery, road trips, and an 18 hour day at Disneyland probably did a pretty good job of solidifying our bestie status.

However, in all those collective years of amity, my college best friend and my high school best friends never really came together. There was only one thing that could bond my lovely ladies together after all this time: ooey gooey melted cheese. 

The Adventures of the Lost Macaron

After a morning of Renaissance culture spent at Notre Dame, Brooke, Lindsey, and I went off in search of my other personal favorite cultural time period. 

Couchsurfing: Switzerland Edition

Brooke, Lindsey, and I have all been asked more than once how we possibly afforded our Euro-adventure. We had to be pretty frugal. There was a lot of grocery store trips (nothing is cheaper than pasta), food splitting (or "rationing" as we called it), picking and choosing of what "splurge" sites we would pay to see, and just general attempts at being thrifty. However, nothing saved us more money than Couchsurfing.com. 

For those of you who haven't heard of this webpage, it's basically what it sounds like, except sometimes you get a couch, sometimes you get a bed, sometimes you get a futon, sometimes you get a floor, sometimes you'll take whatever you can get. Essentially you make a profile and then request to stay in strangers' homes.

Now the appropriate and usual reaction to this idea is "STRANGER DANGER!!" While this is a practical concern, we had a really great and safe experience with the whole thing. Profiles are linked to reviews from other surfers and that's largely how we chose who we stayed with. The people you request to stay with must also approve you, and you can talk with them prior to your visit. 

To be fair, there is a decent part of this that is trusting your gut. I am sure that not every Couchsurfer is a safe and hospitable new friend. There are creepers everywhere, but just as well, there are wonderful people everywhere. We tried to be as safe as possible, like I said, trusting other surfers' reviews and especially steering towards people with a large quantity of positive comments. 

While I had my first Couchsurfing experience on my trip to England, and Brooke & Lindsey had their's in Florence (while I was off galavanting in Southern Spain), we had our first joint experience in Geneva, Switzerland. 

Barcelona Bites Back

Sometimes unfortunate things can happen while you're traveling, and like in life, you just have to take them in stride and handle the situation. Our second day in Barcelona started well enough, but concluded with a bit of a struggle, in the form of two stolen cell phones. 

We all like to think that we're conscientious enough to not get our stuff stolen. That all those crime alerts about ripped away cell phones are just dumb people not paying enough attention. Really though, it can happen to the best of us, especially when traveling in a foreign country known for its master pickpockets. 

Barcelona sits on the southern coast of Spain, along the Balearic Sea. Brooke, Lindsey, and I thought we would take advantage of a beach day, being the California girls we are. However, though they may be beautiful, Barcelona's beaches are nothing like California. People line every inch of the sand, and there are panhandlers consistently harassing you. 

"Mojito! Mojito! Fresh mojito!" 

Lounging in Santorini

When Bre and I arrived in Santorini, there were clouds in the sky and sprinkles of rain falling. We were a bit dismayed by this weather, but quickly perked up as we arrived at our quaint Grecian retreat. 

Villa Manos is the perfect homey island escape destination (on a budget). For just $12 a night each, Bre and I got a large room to ourselves, with the added bonus of the nicest hotel staff in history. The woman who runs Villa Manos, Poppy, is about the sweetest lady on the planet, and essentially the greek mama you never had. Her and her husband run a pristine hotel, and are always willing to help you with any of your island needs. Bre and I went running to Poppy on more than one occasion over our 7 days stay trying to figure out how the hecky to get around the island.

Buona Notte Firenze

It could be argued whether my Mom came to visit just me or just Italy, and the generous answer would probably be a combo of the two. But really, if we're honest, she came for the carousel. 

In Piazza della Repubblica there is a restored early 20th century carousel ran by the Picci family (see story here). From what I have been told it only runs from November to May, but since I arrived in January, it has been present for my every jaunt through the city center. Though I was many times tempted to jump upon the 20 horse parade, I continued to hold out hope that my mama (and Jewel) would cross the Atlantic and be with me for that first ride. 

I was not let down. 

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art my dinner?

They best way to introduce someone to the very essence of Italy is to feed them. Therefore upon arrival, my Mama and Jewel learned instantly that the core of life in Italy is (as we should all know) food. Their first night (hours) in Florence, there was wine, lasagna, and bread. For some reason the entire time I was with these ladies, we were served bread with every meal. It really isn't fair, because contrary to what they now believe, bread is not an everyday gift with your meal. But in any case, I shall stall my rant and move on to the next day. 

After Mama and Jewel got an appropriate amount of sleep (with no jet lag because they took my expert advice of just not sleeping at all until you get to your destination country) we did some general site-seeing. Soon from site-seeing we moved to food-eating, as it was that I had to get to class and needed some lunch. Mom mentioned an appreciation for cured meats, and I knew just the place to take her: La Prosciutteria. 

At this restaurant-not-restaurant you enjoy the company of your neighbors at a shared table while drinking house wine, FREE water, and eating delectable meats & cheeses. It hits the "essence" of Italy on the head, minus the free water thing. That's a novelty. 

Leaving and Loving London

My last day in London. *insert tears here* Even the sky was weeping for me, as it poured buckets for a large portion of my day. 

I had developed a "to-do" list before I came to my grand city, and I had just a few more things to see before I left. Despite only getting an hour-ish of sleep the night before, I headed out early on Wednesday morning to make sure I saw everything, starting with Covent Garden & Neal's Yard. 

Neal's Yard is one of those tiny little scenic places you find and pin on Pinterest time and again. It is nestled off a street in Covent Garden, where you could easily miss it if you weren't looking. There may not be much to do there at 9:30 am on a Wednesday, but it sure is a photogenic little hide-away. 

London town wanderings

I get hankerings, and once I get them, they don't let go. I've been fortunate enough that most of this food cravings have evaded me during my time in Italy. However, with the promise of London, home to every possible type of food you could imagine, I needed something so exotic, something so foreign I could get it in no other place than the cosmopolitan metropolitan paradise of London. I needed........ a cheeseburger. 

Ok, so maybe it's not that exotic. Nevertheless, few things are as satisfying as a good burger (and few things are as unfortunate as a bad burger). Thanks to some internet-scouring I had a hunch on where to get a goodin' in ol' London town. On Sunday I found myself at the Byron Burger in Soho.

A tasty Sunday Burger seemed to be a popular idea, as the place was poppin'. Inside there is a very diner-esc atmosphere, though just a little more upscale, probably because proper British people seem to eat there french fries chips with a fork. 

Winter Paradise

There are a million things I love about Italy. The lack of nature, is not one of them. Italy has been inhabited and structured for nearly its entire history, it's not surprising that every major city is overlaid completely by concrete and the ever infamous cobblestones. Usually I can hang with this city-living style, but I was more ready than I even knew to go to the great outdoors.

I went to the right place: Interlaken, Switzerland is one of the outdoor recreation capitols of the world. Nestled down in a valley this wild utopia is surrounded on four sides by the Swiss Alps. The Alps rise up above you at incomprehensible heights, making you feel like every bit the ant you are in their presence. These grand mountains are covered by various trees and mounds of snow, creating a breathtaking landscape. 

The Eternal City

Two countries. One day.

Well, technically. One country, one "city-state": Vatican City, which is independent from Italy so I say it counts. In any case, as is with everything in Rome, the size of the monuments in Vatican City are large enough for an entire country. 

I'd like to start this part of the post with a little word to the wise, as I know we all have hopes of visiting Rome, and when that occurs Vatican City is obviously a stop on the tourist loop. There are two entrances: one that leads you to the Sistine Chapel & the Vatican Museum and the other, which takes you straight into Saint Peters Basilica. So be sure and know which one you want first. I state this, mostly because I was unaware of this fact, and the girls and I spent the initial part of our morning walking back and forth trying to figure out what to do, whilst, as is the norm, being harassed by various guides and merchants trying to bamboozle us. 

On the upside though, we got some picture ops early in the morning when the crowds weren't too outrageous. 

Living in a dream

Sometimes things are so amazing that they become surreal. Italy is one of those things. It's like I woke up one morning and was dropped into one of my own dreams. 

My first official day in Firenze the weather could have not been more beautiful. Even if it rains everyday after (which so far has been the case), fate was kind enough to offer one sunshiny perfect day of exploring to keep me content. Rain or no rain, though, Florence is still more magical than a thousand other places on their most perfectly weathered day. 

My new roomies, Jackie and Catherine, and myself spent our first day wandering the streets, generally looking for a convenience store, but mostly just being thrilled with our new home; a fair emotion when you consider the view. 

A day on Apple Hill

As much as I adore the nearly ever present sunshine and warmth in San Diego, it tends to really just put a dapper on the whole atmosphere of the holiday season. Is it really fall, nearly winter, if I can still wear sandals? Not really. With this ever present "#socalproblem", I really appreciate going home to enjoy some actual seasons.

After a properly crisp Thanksgiving, I rounded out the end of fall with a trip with the fam-bam to Apple Hill. Located in Northern California, near Placerville, Apple Hill attracts a wide variety of hungry guests looking for some wholesome fun. Being honest, we all know I was basically just in it for the food. However, I also got a pretty good kick of stomping on some crunchy leaves and enjoying the cool crisp air of fall. 

The whole Apple Hill "process" essentially consists of driving from farm to farm and eating various products, mostly apple flavored (they were really clever with the title). There are various farms (some small some large) each offering there own specialty. 

We started with one of the largest, known as Boa Vista Orchards, which, though they have a whole smorgasbord of items, is not my favorite. It tends to be a little over crowded (I really hate queuing) and more commercial then I enjoy. Nevertheless, here's a little peek at the marketplace. 

Dinner for two

"Girls do not dress for boys. They dress for themselves, and, of course, each other. If girls dressed for boys they'd just walk around naked at all times." 

-Betsey Johnson

Oh the wise, wise Betsey. Thankfully my girl's-night-out date, Miss Rubi, entirely appreciated my outfit, as did I appreciate her sky-high heels. We also both appreciated some very decadent food. 

The Birthday month is officially over, which is a pity, but Rubi and I made sure to go out with a bang: a good ol' Happy Birthday to us! We treated ourselves to dinner at The Melting Pot.  

Welcome to Oregon

Some things on earth just have a perfect, unforgettable smell. The kind of scent that immediately makes you dreamy and nostalgic. Amongst these divine scents, you may know, are a hot summer nights, christmas trees, your best friends house (everyone has their own distinct smell), and the Oregon coast. 

Ohhh, the Oregon coast. It's like breathing in fresh oxygen, salty sea, and memories. Thousands upon thousands of majestic pine trees explain the fresh, crisp air. The nearby Pacific gives you that salty harbor feel. But the memories? Well breathing in those babies stems from summers spent with the family exploring the beautiful coastline.

It's been over 7 years since we had ventured to our northern coast, but stepping out of the car into the familiar area, it was like nothing had changed. The view and landscape stretched out before us and my sister and I were immediately off exploring the dense forest with great enthusiasm.  

The Great Donut Muffin

It was 2010, I was innocently sitting at home watching the Food Network, little did I know, my life was about to have a new purpose. Now you could say this is an exaggeration, but for the past three years my life has had one constant: the need for the Duffin.

What is a duffin you ask? Well let me tell you. The duffin is the love child of a donut and a muffin. As Candace Nelson said in that video 3 years ago, when she created my obsession, it is "the soul of a donut, but in the form of a muffin." The Downtown Bakery and Creamery in Healdsburg, CA has perfected this sugary pastry, and it was my mission to obtain it. And I did.

Just take a look at this beauty, how could you say it wasn't worth a 3 hour drive?

I feel we properly conveyed our sheer delight in the goodness. Imagine biting in to a perfectly moist muffin but with the flavor of a donut, coated in such a layer of cinnamon sugar that it immediately covers your face and lap and all other possible surfaces. Perfection.