What the hell is a farton and why did I eat one??

After la Tomatina ( which will be blogged as soon as roll is finished, darn my non digital!!) the gang and I descended on the city of Valencia. The Lonely Planet guidebook mentioned a local drink and food that was recomended to sample. The name 'fartons' not only put the guys into fits of giggles , they flat out refused to put something in their mouths with a name like that. So Cindy and I had to wait until they left town before we could descend upon the Horchateria de Santa Catalina.

Surely a national drink that prompted establishments devoted to its consumption must be good. We entered the Horchateria late in the afternoon, unsure if there was a designated time to drink it, it seemed a reasonable compromise. santa catalina seemed like its interior had remained unchanged since the 30s. Marble floors, mosaic walls,dark rickety wooden chairs and tables like an ice cream shop of your parents childhood. dark polished wood and glass counters behind which the fartons were lined up in rows.

Our crap Spanish hindered our communication until a kind waitress took us under her wing. She explained the process.Eat fartons.Drink ice cold horchata.Repeat as necessary. Not wanting to seem piggish, we ordered 2 each.

Sweet mother of God, I could have eaten 22. Really. As sweet as a malasada (anyone else from Hawaii knows about this) but without the sticky fingers afterward. Horchata is like a low fat milk in substance with sugar added. Just what does a body good after an afternoon of wakling and church hopping. Modesty prevented me from ordering more. That and the nervous twitch I developed from all the sugar. When in Valencia, overcome the humor of the name and EAT A FARTON. And be proud.

Orange you glad you don't wear an easyjet uniform?

Now that half the Spain photos are developed, here is the travelogue before jetheimers kicks in!! Cin and I bought REAL tickets (ie non standby,ie expensive!) on Easyjet to Valencia. Sweet Jesus, how I appreciate my airline after seeing their workday and uniform.....



Those poor crews have the UGLIEST uniforms possible. Skirts and trousers with the 'hint' of denim in the form of faux topstitching, with a shiny orange shirt to top it off. Lest I forget, the apparent option of a quilted vest to wear over that. Yes, I would LOVE to add pounds to my figure with a quilted vest, on a hot aircraft. Talk about things that make you go hmmmm.....



The crew had to sell everything,. which makes me feel better about only having to sell booze and duty free. Selling food and scratch cards. I am not sure what the prize was, it appeared to be MORE scratch cards. After continuously serving the oh so thirsty British males behind me, who bought beer in increments of 10, they had to clean the plane. I guess I have it better than I thought.

Kudos to the crew for being friendly and patient with the travelling masses, they aren't even rewarded with a layover in sunny Spain!!

Pam Ann - Cabin Service

5 Things I Love About My Job

1. Uniforms. There is something really freeing about wearing a uniform . in the morning, when the brain is most challenged, there is something delightful about the fact my largest decision is short sleeve or long? Off black stockings or nude?
2. Free food and drink. I love that there is , at all times, a complete bar cart at my disposal. (Minus the liquor of course,although that is on the menu for some). Have a hankering for a diet coke? Pop the top, no fishing for coins. No packing a lunch or saving money for lunch hour. I will admit that dining while standing or on a jumpseat perilously close to a toilet is a less than ideal venue,but the price is right. Were the meals left over, i could literally eat 20 economy chickens. I only know this is possible as I have seen it done. I would not reccommend it .
3. The office view. My flatmate longs for a mere window in her open plan office area. hell, she really longs for the copier to not belch fumes on her while she works. If I look out the window, on various flights I have been treated to views of Rio de Janeiro,the Great Pyramids,the fires burning on the oilfields in the Middle East, the illuminated border of pakistan and India, and the Manhattan skyline. No one has a better view.
4. The time off. Depending on the trips I bid, I average 12-18 days off a month. That is a full time job. There is something wonderfully decadent about having a Tuesday to go to a matinee, or not worrying about getting time off for a doctors appointment. Shopping in an empty store at 10am,not fighting the crowds.
5. Free toiletries at hotels. I cant remember the last time I purchased shampoo. Or soap for that matter. If I don't care for it myself the sample sizes go to a homeless shelter, but I always look forward to them. Always great for vacation or giving to the aunt that collects them in a basket in her guest room.

Odds and Ends

What a lazy ass layover I had. After being switched last minute from Chicago to a Washington layover, I had high hopes. Packed the guide book and camera.Then realized that my 'free time' was Sunday before 2pm. Not...much...happening.... Also, after a delay I was unusually exhausted so devoted far too much time to NY Times crossword puzzles. So much for the glamorous world of being a stewardess!! With a view of the Washington Monument from my Tempur-Pedic bed, I could hardly be bothered to leave my bed. Next layover I *promise* some culture will be seen and documented.

I got to fly with belladonnafiga. She also single and not sure why. With her dynamite haircut and recent weight loss, it is a mystery to me too!! We laughed about our friends telling us we are too picky. HAR!! We are both currently averaging a 0% rejection factor, cause offers of dates aren't happening lately. Are the men all hibernating or what?? Luckily 14A provided all of us working business class with a bag of eye candy.

Destination unknown

Okay... I was supposed to fly to ORD tomorrow (Chicago for the muggles) but have been reassigned to fly to IAD (Washington DC) due to being over my quarterly max of hours. Clearly they were not aware I was flying with my dear friend Monique!!! Or maybe they were.... Well at least I can hang out in first class on this more junior of flights. Which museum to go to.........

Overheard in economy

She: How is the chicken prepared?
He: Uh, I don't know, baked I guess...
She: No, I need to know how it is prepared!!
He: By a Dominican in a hairnet!!

Ode to the man in 3J

Sir,
I work first class fairly regularly. With the exception of Gary Oldman you have been the handsomest man I have served in some time. Clearly with the Oldman reference it is obvious I have 'aesthetically flawed' or some would say 'nerdy' taste in men. You were right up my alley, yet chose to sleep facing the wall. Thanks for nothing 3J.

The Meanest Link

While staying at home Saturday night ( hey, I had a cold!!) I happened to catch a special 'celebrity' edition of the Weakest Link. The celebrities in question were 'glamour models' and WAGs- 2 descriptions that only people in England understand. In the states I suppose we would call glamour models ...well I can think of what you call gals that pose topless in newspapers because that doesnt happen at home. We also don't make celebrities out of professional atheletes girlfriends, which is a bit odd since everyone else can be a celebrity in America.

The girls all had unique spellings of their names like Amii or Linsey or Charley. The host, Anne Robinson felt is was completely acceptable to ask the breast sizes of the contestants. WTF??? Their assets were obvious, did you really need to demean them further than the simplified questions that were asked?? While I giggled at their not knowing what an exchequer was, or tempestuous meant, did you really need to ask the cup size?? Come on Anne, their 'intellect' was funny enough,and it was for charity after all. A little mercy would have gone a long way.

My heart belongs to Santiago.....Calatrava

Who knew the charm that is southern Spain?? Apparently everyone did but me!! My last time in Spain consisted of a few rainy dreary days in Madrid filled with galleries and......sleep. Not a trip that filled me with a longing to return to that country. After all I did already have the passport stamp.

The Tomatina festival ( which will be documented when film is developed) prompted a return to Espana. I figured that the tomato throwing would be the highlight,bookended by some sangria and sun. The 'bookends' surrounding the festival were worthy of a vacation in itself-in fact so loverly that it would have been a worthwhile trip even without the joy of the adult food fight.

Our hotel was a bit on the outskirts of the city proper, but as it was in sight of one of Santiago Calatravas masterpieces, all was well. If possible for someone with no architecture education, I am a bit of a groupie for his work. Something about the soaring beauty of his work fills me with joy. Difficult for someone as sarcastic as me to be filled with joy- but true. The crush began the first time I saw his art gallery in Milwaukee ,Wisconsin open its wings in the morning light. It was deepened seeing this building. Had Valencia not been such a magnificent city I could have spent all of my time gazing at this structure. As soon as photos are downloaded, I will detail the beauty of Valencias churches,music and mercados.