Author: GOING NINETY MILES

Hola and welcome to GOING NINETY MILES. Enjoy learning about amazing places to visit, good restaurants, seeing cool photos and more awesomeness.
Mallorca · paaaarty

Despedida de Soltero

GOING NINETY MILESLeave a comment

Saturday was my first Spanish bachelorette party (despedida de soltero). And I am STILL a little tired from the madness, so excuse any grammatical mistakes (actually now and always) please. Or don’t excuse, whatever you need to do. Just let it go! Grrrrrr…. I am CRANKY today!

The despedida was an all day event and here is how it went down.

Unsuspecting Marga arriving at the airport.

The gang with bewildered baby Alejandro (so cute!). And why am I standing so strange? At least the champagne glass matches my dress. Whew. Airport surprise, check. Puro Beach next.

One of my favorite haunts, I have already “talked” about it here.

A hazy but still beautiful view of Palma de Mallorca.

Drinks by the sea? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Next! Off to Son Antem, again another favorite. We had some lunch, went to the holistic spa, then dressed up the bachelorette as Amy Winehouse and went for some dinner at Cosa Nostra in Palma. I had never been to Cosa Nostra and I will never go back. See! I can give a bad review! The food was not good. From the four appetizers, I can only recommend the omelet. Entre? I guess the pizza was okay. All the girls thought the sangaria was terrible, I mean really, how the hell can you mess up sangaria? And it seemed to be the place to bring your bday party or bachelorette party, or some kind of party. For old me, no bueno.

And the chaos begins …..

The Amy Winehouse wig got a little out of control ……

The night ended at Tito’s, rumored to be the best discotech of Palma. I have long made much fun over Tito’s. When The German and I eat at Mediterraneo (so wish we would have eaten there, great food), which is right next to Tito’s, the buses pull up from party town S’Arenal and we watch the hordes of teenaged kids rush off the bus and pile into the elevator to take them up the ten floors to the fluorescent light throbbing disco.

So we went, surprisingly there weren’t too many teenagers, maybe because schools are back in session. The scene was us islanders (like me!), the tourists, or the dancers.

For example, him.

Oh my. And it got even more caliente. Well, for Marga….

And then the show began!

She seemed excited to start work.

She could contort herself into any shape. I was mesmerized. And then decided to call it the night where a continuous loop of lady gaga kept going through my head … “Roma roma-ma, Gaga, ooh la la”

Good Night!

2010 · Mallorca · spain

The Grand Slam Boy from Mallorca

GOING NINETY MILESLeave a comment

He has done it again, winning his ninth Grand Slam tournament of his still-young career. But this made the first time for him to win the US Open. Qué Guay Rafa! (That means super, or really cool Rafael!!!)

While I am not the most avid tennis spectator, I do enjoy the tournaments. I went to Wimbledon in ’93. I remember getting up at the crack of dawn and standing in a long line forever. Couldn’t tell you who the hell played but I sure did enjoy my strawberries and cream! Which was kind of the main reason for me going at that time in my life. And also to say, Wimbledon? Yeah, of course I’ve been there. Who hasn’t?

Yeah so, enough about me, back to Nadal. Fellow Mallorquin (and a very pretty one at that) winning the US Open and making him the youngest ever to have a career Grand Slam at age 24, makes me proud! If only he would invite me over for sobrasada and some cava to let me express my deep admiration. And maybe a lesson in tennis or two. I do like the word love…..

Rafa (our term of endearment for the Manacor boy), QUÉ GUAY!

2010 · new york city · tragic · usa

Here We Are Again

GOING NINETY MILES2 Comments

Here we are, September 11. Nine years, and I remember it like it was yesterday.

I actually arrived to work early at my office in Wilton, CT. Since it was a marketing/promotions agency we were lucky and had several televisions around the large space. A report caught someone’s eye and we began to gather around. When the news became more than a small prop plane hitting the North Tower, it was a 767, full of passengers, there were gasps and tears that filled the room. And then the second tower was hit. This was no accident, this was terrorism. And our world would never be the same.

New York City, only 45 minutes away on the train, and somewhere I had just been the past week. As the first tower began to crumble and gush towards the ground I held my breath. I prayed people had escaped, had freed themselves from the horror of the unthinkable. What seemed only seconds later, the second tower went. I was numb. I couldn’t stop staring at the screen. Where did they go? Who could do this to thousands of people?

The agency told everyone to go home. And I called my family back to tell them I was okay. I traveled a lot and had just taken that same flight from Boston to LA (American Airlines 11) a few weeks before. That thought still terrifies me to this day. In shock, my friend Jeannette and I went to the liquor store, I have no idea what we bought but we brought it back to my cottage in the Connecticut woods and sat in front of the television, glued to every word, every shocking scene replayed over and over again.

As the days slipped by I went through many stages. At first I couldn’t stop crying, the destruction of our great city, the loss of so many lives in New York, the Pentagon, in Pennsylvania. Then I was angry, how DARE they do this to my country? Who the hell do they think they are? When I went into the city to see firsthand what Ground Zero looked like I couldn’t stop shaking my head while wiping away tears. So many posters of the missing. Have you seen my father, daughter, uncle, brother, mother, husband…….

The reason I had been to NYC a few days before 9/11 was to look for my perfect apartment. It had been a dream of mine since I was a little girl to live in the BIG city. Manhattan. And now? Now, I felt that I HAD TO. A few people were concerned, why move in now? After what just happened? And my answer was always yes. Yes, because of what happened.

And fifteen days later I moved into my tiny studio apartment on the Upper East side of 74th and 1st. Those were some of the best years of my life.

God Bless New York City.

Save

domestic goddess · Things and Stuff

Domestic Goddess

GOING NINETY MILES3 Comments

Yup, that’s me.  Domestic Goddess. My house is always sparkly clean and smelling of roses. Okay, maybe not. But every once in awhile, I do love to get down and dirty with a good house scrubbing. And my latest purchase makes it even more fun.

Introducing my Hoover FreeJet. It ROCKS man. It is cordless (it recharges on a stand) so no messing with plugging in, unplugging, moving the cord out of the way. And there’s a dustbuster that is attached for use. The Hoover FreeJet lasts to vacuum my house in one go! Plus, it is super light.

Mine is in Oklahoma State Cowboy Orange, so it is even better. Off to vacuum!

2010 · beach · fun in the sun · tv land

Happy 90210

GOING NINETY MILES6 Comments

DONNA: You guys better not drop me. I am on my second new nose.

DAVID:  If I promise not to drop the front end can we finally have sex?

DONNA:  DAVID! NO! I am to be a virgin until, well, another few weeks. And sorry, it won’t be with you.

BRANDON: Will it be with me?

DYLAN:  Sorry Donna, not interested. This week, I only have eyes for Brenda. Next week, maybe I will get drunk, get high and ride my motorcycle over the cliff. You guys will miss me so much.

STEVE:  Hey, if I stand like this will it make my schlong look bigger?

DAVID:  Steve, if you get any closer, I will be having sex with you.

Save

beauty · catalonia · friends · fun in the sun · go ~ mallorca · Majorca · Mallorca · see ~ mallorca · spain · travel

Excursions a Cabrera

GOING NINETY MILES2 Comments

Cabrera island, so close, yet so far. I see it practically every day, calling out to me to come visit. Just south of my lil town of Sa Rapita and I have been wanting to take a boat ride there to check it out. Finally, with my friend Perla in tow, I did.

Cabrera is sometimes called Goat Island and measures four by three miles (about 6.5 x 5 km). It’s a charming rocky island, much frequented by pirates in days of old. On a darker note, it also served as a prisoner-of-war camp during the Napoleonic Wars. Many died on this island during this period. Cabrera is beauty incarnate, rich in wildlife and plants, and the island has been a national park since 1991.

Daily excursions by boat run from Colonia de Sant Jordi. The boat leaves at 9:30 a.m. and arrives back on the mainland at 5:00 p.m. You can also visit with your own yacht, but you must get permission in advance, and only 50 boats are allowed in the harbor (the island’s only legal mooring place) at one time.

Perla and I got up early, drove over to Colonia de Sant Jordi, had a quick café con leche and boarded the small boat. We made a reservation a few days before and everything was very easy peasy japaneasy. We headed for the back of the boat and pulled on our rain jackets, the day was starting out a bit cloudy. The trip took about an hour to get to the main island of Cabrera.

Once there, we had a “guide” give us some “guidelines”: There are no trash cans, so please bring your trash back with you. There are very few toilets, so please use the one at the port while you can. There is one small cafe and there is not a hotel on the island, so if you miss the boat back, well, have fun roughing it. After that, we were on our own for about five hours.

Perls and I had packed a deeeelish picnic and we decided the castle on the cliff was our destination for lunch. The castle was built in the late 14th century to ward off pirates, and later it held mostly French prisoners during the Napoleonic Wars. Pirates and prisoners, sounds treacherous. Let’s go! Climbing to the castle …..

We picked out a cozy spot where many prisoners probably once sat. But I bet they didn’t have as good of a spread as we had; Mallorcan Pere Seda rosado wine, Mallorcan olives, pickled onions, grapes, yummy Mahon cheese cubes and a baguette from the local bakery.

Even the ants enjoyed it ……

The castle (which dates to the end of the 1400 century) was the popular place to see once the boat docked. But Perla and I stayed long after everyone had checked it out. It was only us, and the ghosts for the remainder of our stay. We looked down towards the water 80 meters below, pretended we were prisoners for awhile ….

The prisoners probably never looked as happy, or pretty. And then, sadly, time to head back down so we wouldn’t miss the boat. Back down the skinny stairs.

Cabrera is famous for its population of Balearic lizards, of which there are about 10 subspecies. Here is one lil dude we saw. Cutie.

Past the graveyard where the prisoners who died are buried. Of 9,000 sent to Cabrera, only 3,600 survived.

And to the cafe for a cerveza.

Life is good.

But wait, the trip isn’t over yet. There is one more stop. Picture a bright bluejay. Picture the vibrant blue of fresh turquoise blue paint. Now mix those up, multiply it by 1000 and you are a little bit closer to the color of the water in the cave. Cova Blava was incredible. The boat enters the cave where you can jump in the water and swim around. And though it was a bit chilly out we didn’t want to miss out on anything. So swim we did! And it was cold. And beautiful.

Alas, the trip is over. The clouds started to rain. And we became the captain of the boat. Go see Cabrera.

Save

Save