When you’re trying not to eat constantly where can you go in Madrid to escape?   La Caja Magica, home of the Madrid Open 2010. It’s a tennis tournament for those who still don’t know what’s going on.  The preview to the French Open, the Madrid Open draws the big stars hoping to perfect their clay court strategy before heading to Roland Garros.  Amy made the mistake of telling me about the tournament and agreeing to join me even though she hasn’t quite figured out how the game is scored.  Thankfully the venue had enough to entertain her while I enjoyed a few tennis matches.

As Amy stared into Roger’s eyes wondering if he’s like to take a stroll through the Retiro with her, I enjoyed watching Spaniard David Ferrer win his match.  Spanish pride had the place rumbling from the quick yells of “Vamos David!” in between points.  Despite the extreme regional pride that you’ll see in Spain, when it’s a Spaniard against the world, that’s all that matters.

During the match, I started contemplating how the countries I visited exhibited patriotism.  Spanish pride being what it is, it still doesn’t compare to what I saw in New Zealand where I found Kiwis beaming every time you complimented their country.  Of all the places I’ve been, I’ve seen no country more proud of it’s land, culture, and experiences.  Kiwis gush and drool about the riches their country has to offer.  So much so that traveling any other way than camper van or as a backpacker just doesn’t compute.  Getting any further away from nature seems to a Kiwi like a horrible waste of an opportunity not to mention money. They’re also extraordinarily willing to help travelers experience the best their country has to offer.   I had been interested yet indifferent to New Zealand’s nature before I visited.  After all, how great could their outdoors be?  Kiwi enthusiasm and dedication to making sure I had a good time resulting with my city-hardened heart melting. Suddenly, I, like CQ, was also staring at sunsets as if for the very first time.

So although I’m super happy, glad and comfortable to be back in Spain, I’m fondly remembering New Zealand even though I can still hear the laughs from every Kiwi upon learning I’ve never spent the night in a tent.

Let’s just skip over the Switzerland that I didn’t see. Cold and rainy Geneva along with 12 hour days filled with “Je ne parle francais” was enough for me to make a few resolutions: 1) take those French classes I always wanted and 2) not to miss my EasyJet flight to Madrid. Iceland’s erupting volcano attempted to delay my entry into Spain, but I got there just in time. My friend Amy was waiting for me having arrived at our Madrid hotel earlier that day. A week in Spain exploring wine country, Spanish art, and of course food. Lots and lots of food. (This will turn out to be a little too much enthusiasm, but you only live once.)

I love Spain. The way of life. The freshness of the food. The oh-so-exacting nature of the language. The Spanish don’t easily offer up information. They answer a question with just the information required. Ask the wrong question – that’s your fault. But ask the right one – be prepared for an onslaught of opinion and conjecture. How are you supposed to tell the difference? Well you can’t. It’s all about nuance and intuition. You have to figure out or really feel the Spanish language to know which words to use when. I suppose it’s probably the same for most languages. When you do, you’ll have a marvelous time. So what if you don’t know Spanish? Learn some. Seriously it’s not hard to learn basic words in any language. Hello. Goodbye. Thank you. Please.

I’ve been amazed in my travels by tourists unwillingness to show courtesy to their non-English speaking host country by picking up some basic phrases. A little learning will go a long way. Especially once you realize that Spanish maps don’t actually tell you how to get anywhere. Also, a week with a bunch of four language speaking Swiss is enough to make you vow to kick them off their smug high horses. So far, I have two down, two to go. I’m already looking forward to picking a fight in French.

Switzerland wasn’t high on my list of countries I needed to visit, but in my planning my time I figured I should do at least one thing semi-work related.  A little googling and I found the Lift Conference in Geneva.  I traded my time for entrance to the conference and a free place to stay.  Seemed like a fair trade. I have proof I was there. These are the volunteers as we were saluted at the conference close. (Far right, near the mobile).

Now I have nothing against Lift10 and it’s mission.  Enabling the discussion about the use of technology in society is a worthy endeavor.  But my 3 days volunteering made me accept one thing:  I don’t like conferences.  Perhaps my expectations are too high.  The workshops and talks with the best titles turned out to be disappointing. Where exactly does this “networking” happen? I watched 700+ a day sit behind their computers or play on their iPhones/Blackberries. I’ve been to several conferences in my career and regardless of topic, they all seem the same to me. I’m also always surprised by how quickly I want out of there.

Spring in Europe was also a bit colder than I expected. Talk about being underdressed with sandals and a jacket that I will burn because I never want to see it again. At some point, I’ll have to visit Geneva again because I didn’t see much more than the walk between the hostel and the conference center. My other big learning from Switzerland: I don’t like cheese fondue. After about four bites, you realize you’re eating a pot of melted goo that just slides down your throat and sit in your stomach. Yuck. A nice warm, gooey pain au chocolat, however, indescribable. Seriously yum.

The best part of Geneva was hearing complimentary words about a friend far, far away.  Another volunteer (from Poland) had taken a course in Denmark from a friend who lives in San Francisco.  His kind description and appreciation of my SF friend brought him to life.   I guess that’s how you’re supposed to network.

At some point, you encounter enough new experiences and moments that you just can’t process things fast enough. How can you tell or know if you’re having a good time or learning something? You can’t. Or at least I can’t.

About a month ago, I stopped posting because I just couldn’t figure out what to say. In my travels, I crossed a point where I went from doing things to seeing things. How can I compare climbing a glacier with seeing the world headquarters of the United Nations? Both were interesting, but of very different ilks. The loss of my camera also took away the excitement of capturing everything possible. I became more cautious or perhaps even more censoring of my own actions. Not to mention, Geneva was the first place where I didn’t think I was having a good time, but couldn’t be sure.  I decided I needed time to process it all.  Perspective comes with time and by putting things away and then bringing them out again to re-examine.

So where did we leave off? I headed back from Australia and New Zealand for a few days in Houston. After that I went to Geneva for the Lift10 Conference and then 2 weeks in Spain. At the moment, I’m in El Salvador with only 2 days left before I have to go back to work. Don’t worry though, I won’t leave out the juicy details of tapas ordering, daredevil driving, and pain au chocolat.