PISA:
I arrived at night and realized right away that I wouldnt be spending much time in my room (it was nice, but very small). I was a bit peeved that the most expensive hostel was, by far, in Pisa where I didnt really even want to stay. Nonetheless, the energy from my travel excitement had me ready to go. I got in at night and went out in search of food (and beer). Having found some Pisa that can only compare in greasiness to Chanellos healthy bread I went ahead and wandered around the city a bit. I made my way to the tower and have to say, it was quite serene at night. I revisited it during the morning too as to snap a couple pictures and get a few postcards. Its actually hard to take a picture of because you want to hold your camera at an angle where it appears straight up. Other than the tower, Pisa doesnt really have much to offer, and why do we celebrate the tower anyways? True, its really old, but millions each year flock to see a poorly constructed creation. It left me wondering why my crumbled baking soda volcano from 4th grade isnt in a museum somewhere. Recommendation: stop in Pisa, see the tower, get the heck out.
CINQUE TERRE
The name itself is italian for thats a spicy a meatball or something like that. Kidding of course, scholars actually maintain the translation was lost years ago. For serious though, I would recommend these five town along the italian riviera to anyone who can walk six miles. They are connected along a coastal path with beaches, hiking, marinas, vineyards, and some of the most breathtaking views youve ever seen. This was also my first hostel dorm experience, where you share your room with other random people. It actually went quite well as there were nine of us in an apartment. Four rooms (three bedrooms and a kitchen) and everyone was quite friendly. We spent the evening sharing stories on our balcony in the southernmost town until a neighbor yelled -HEY BLONDIE, WE TRY TO SLEEP, YOU WANT TO SPEAK, YOU GO TO BEACH! Needless to say she wasnt happy. The funny part was: I was probably the only one of the nine not talking at the time, but since I was in the light she chose me. Didnt feel too bad though, it was only eleven, which is rather early in italy.
MILAN
Another city where you can spend about a half day. The Duomo is the third largest church in the world and an absolute feat, both inside an out. Its intricate detail is quite inspiring but you cant help but feel a bit of an eerie goth feeling at the same time. Da Vincis The Last Supper is indescribable, due in large part to the fact that I didnt see it. Turns out you have to make a reservation weeks ahead. Oh well, lesson learned.
I wandered around a bit and found my way into the Navigi (or something like that) district. Here they are known for their happy hours, which are done a bit differently than in the US. You pay anywhere from 5 to 7 euro for a drink and you get a hugh buffet for free. Dinner and a drink in Milan for 7 euro (the more the drink, the better the buffet)? not bat. Also, apparently its fashion week here so there are a bunch of models walking around. Now Im no fashionista but I was able to pick them out as they had five distinguishing characteristics: they were taller, thinner, more attarctive, blonder, and had smaller chests than me. That evening I wandered around the Galleria, an upscale shopping area next to the duomo and happened my way into a Piano Concert. The music was beautiful and in conjunction with the atmosphere it seemed almost Majestic.
Overall, however the experience was pretty negative. I ran into a few kind people, most of whom didnt speak english. Others, however, were quite nasty. My hostel had nine people crammed into a small room with no locked doors, no towels, etc. My train out left at 1025 so I caught a 9AM bus since it took me only about 20 minutes from the train station. Well this time it took me an hour and a half to gett there, just in time to see my train leave. Wouldnt you know the first italian train EVER to leave on time happened to be mine. The next train doesnt leave for another four hours, so Im here updating my blog. Im going to miss any possible outdoor activities n INterlocken, an outdoorsmans paradise, but I guess that means Ill just have to go back.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Valenica (second go round)
Now that I´ve settled into Valencia and started to make my way things are starting to become a bit routine. Although a routine is nice in the fact that I don´t have to cart luggage around everywhere or worry about having to find transport out of a city, every now and again I have to mix it up a bit to make sure I don´t get bored. I figured I´d share with you the daily Spanish life, as well as my life, and let you compare and contrast on your own.
DAILY SPANISH LIFE
Usually starts around 9 AM, even though work doesn´t start until around 10. Between 9:30 and 10:30 you can find spaniard having almuerzo (which means lunch but is more of a brunch here) with coffee and a pastry. Things shut down EXACTLY at 2PM until EXACTLY 4PM for siesta and lunch. Offices are then open until around 7:30 or 8. Dinner starts around 9 and usually goes until around 11. Spaniards will stay up until around 2 (for the older ones) or even 5 (younger ones, even on weekdays) then start the process all over again.
MY DAILY LIFE
Usually begins in the 10 oclock hour. I awake and do a quick circuit workout just to try to keep in some shape. Shower, breakfast, and out the door around 11. Between 11 and 1:30 is my time, I listen to my music as I walk to my destination, which is usually something cultural (a museum, a plaza, etc.) and will spend some time reading my books. I head back around 1:30 to grab some food before everything closes. I have lunch at 2 and watch an hour of the Simpsons, in spanish, to work on my listening skills. The Simpsons by the way is a great show to watch since it uses so much everyday vocabulary. At 3 I´ll do some word puzzles and brain teasers just to keep my mind sharp, then leave around 3:45 for center city where I will study my spanish. On my walk there I listen to my mp3 spanish lessons and while Im there I spend time studying vocab, verb tenses, and translating a book. This usually takes me just past seven, when I walk back for dinner. I finish up dinner around 830 and usually spend about an hour on the internet planning new trips, updating my blog, and doing my best to keep in contact. After an hour in the locutorio (internet cafe) which is as hot as a sauna, I treat myself to a couple beers. Sometimes I head back into town to an international lounge to speak some english, and sometimes I stay local and talk in Spanish. I usually try to alternate between the two. This takes me up until around 11:30 or midnight when I head home, read for a bit then bed.
MY DILEMMA
My original intention was to settle here for a month ortwo and find a job or at least volunteer to really get involved with the culture. This no longer is a real possibility and I have no one to blame but myself. In London I booked my flat here for two months and decided since I had it for such a long time I could travel intermittently. Thus I booked a trip to the italian coast and munich (which I leave for today) which will last ten days. Well, upon my arrival my flatmate tells me he´s leaving on Oct 10, much earlier than our talked about date of Nov 15. This cuts my time in less than 1/2, making it almost impossible for me to find work or volunteer. I say it´s my fault because I trusted him, and as the saying foes ´possesion is 9/10s of the law.´ Instead I have decided to talk on the role of observer, even though I have conversations with locals I am putting more effort into noting and appreciating Spanish culture, which I will share with you soon. After Oct 10 I am still unsure but think I will stay in Spain through that month, though probably not Valencia.
PINK IS THE NEW DAN
I forgot to mention that in Paris I did my first load of laundry. I had packed a new shirt that my friend gave me from Morocco and didn´t remember to wash it before I left. By the way, it was red, thus now most of my whites and linens are now pink. This wouldn´t be too much of a problem in Paris, or even Italy, but I get the feeling Pink is to Spain as Purple is to Jerry Falwell (there´s an SAT analogy for you). I wore my pink polo the other day and caught some off-color comments and even what I believe was a possible solicitation, much like our recent senator (what happened with him by the way). Anyways, pink is staying in the closet in Spain, for lack of a better term.
KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED
Im doing the italian coast, milan, interlaken (Switz), then munich for Octfest so things could get pretty interesting in the next week and a half!
DAILY SPANISH LIFE
Usually starts around 9 AM, even though work doesn´t start until around 10. Between 9:30 and 10:30 you can find spaniard having almuerzo (which means lunch but is more of a brunch here) with coffee and a pastry. Things shut down EXACTLY at 2PM until EXACTLY 4PM for siesta and lunch. Offices are then open until around 7:30 or 8. Dinner starts around 9 and usually goes until around 11. Spaniards will stay up until around 2 (for the older ones) or even 5 (younger ones, even on weekdays) then start the process all over again.
MY DAILY LIFE
Usually begins in the 10 oclock hour. I awake and do a quick circuit workout just to try to keep in some shape. Shower, breakfast, and out the door around 11. Between 11 and 1:30 is my time, I listen to my music as I walk to my destination, which is usually something cultural (a museum, a plaza, etc.) and will spend some time reading my books. I head back around 1:30 to grab some food before everything closes. I have lunch at 2 and watch an hour of the Simpsons, in spanish, to work on my listening skills. The Simpsons by the way is a great show to watch since it uses so much everyday vocabulary. At 3 I´ll do some word puzzles and brain teasers just to keep my mind sharp, then leave around 3:45 for center city where I will study my spanish. On my walk there I listen to my mp3 spanish lessons and while Im there I spend time studying vocab, verb tenses, and translating a book. This usually takes me just past seven, when I walk back for dinner. I finish up dinner around 830 and usually spend about an hour on the internet planning new trips, updating my blog, and doing my best to keep in contact. After an hour in the locutorio (internet cafe) which is as hot as a sauna, I treat myself to a couple beers. Sometimes I head back into town to an international lounge to speak some english, and sometimes I stay local and talk in Spanish. I usually try to alternate between the two. This takes me up until around 11:30 or midnight when I head home, read for a bit then bed.
MY DILEMMA
My original intention was to settle here for a month ortwo and find a job or at least volunteer to really get involved with the culture. This no longer is a real possibility and I have no one to blame but myself. In London I booked my flat here for two months and decided since I had it for such a long time I could travel intermittently. Thus I booked a trip to the italian coast and munich (which I leave for today) which will last ten days. Well, upon my arrival my flatmate tells me he´s leaving on Oct 10, much earlier than our talked about date of Nov 15. This cuts my time in less than 1/2, making it almost impossible for me to find work or volunteer. I say it´s my fault because I trusted him, and as the saying foes ´possesion is 9/10s of the law.´ Instead I have decided to talk on the role of observer, even though I have conversations with locals I am putting more effort into noting and appreciating Spanish culture, which I will share with you soon. After Oct 10 I am still unsure but think I will stay in Spain through that month, though probably not Valencia.
PINK IS THE NEW DAN
I forgot to mention that in Paris I did my first load of laundry. I had packed a new shirt that my friend gave me from Morocco and didn´t remember to wash it before I left. By the way, it was red, thus now most of my whites and linens are now pink. This wouldn´t be too much of a problem in Paris, or even Italy, but I get the feeling Pink is to Spain as Purple is to Jerry Falwell (there´s an SAT analogy for you). I wore my pink polo the other day and caught some off-color comments and even what I believe was a possible solicitation, much like our recent senator (what happened with him by the way). Anyways, pink is staying in the closet in Spain, for lack of a better term.
KEEP YOUR EYES PEELED
Im doing the italian coast, milan, interlaken (Switz), then munich for Octfest so things could get pretty interesting in the next week and a half!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Valencia at Last
OMISSIONS FROM FRANCE:
Fun Facts about Paris
1) The arc de Triumph (12 lanes of traffic in a roundabout) is the only pace where French car insurance isn´t valid, too high risk. Although I didn´t see it, and my reference is from London, I couldn´t help but think everytime I heard about it: look kids big ben, parlaiment.
2) If you spent one minute looking at each piece in the Louvre consecutive, it would take you 250 straight days, no sleep, no food, nada.
3) The grand hotel (i forget its name) houses the winner of the tour de france for the weekend in their suite (about 10,000 Euro a night). They also fly the winner´s home country´s flag for a week instead of the French flag. So that´s right, for seven consecutive years there was one week where the TEXAS flag flew instead of the french. Bit of a technicality actually since Texas was its own country for a brief period.
MY FIRST FEW DAYS IN ESPANA
Although I was quite relieved to not be living out of a suit case for the next month, I have to admit I was a bit let down upon my arrival in Valencia. It doesn´t help that I was coming from Paris, which could make city might look like a nursing home compared to a fraternity house, but I happened to arrive at the exact wrong time. 8pm on Saturday is a quite hour as things don´t start going until around 1130pm here. I was too tired to stay awake, but Sunday wasn´t much better since that´s truly their day of rest: everything is shut down.
When I picked Valencia was looking for something off the beaten bath: big but not touristy. You asked for it, you got it! There are really almost no americans here, but a few other types of Europeans that frequent here since the beaches are so nice.
I´ve been doing a lot of adventuring around the city and it seems pretty cool: very historic. I got a chance to see the port which was awesome since Valencia just got done hosting the Americas Cup. It´s the big yacht races and those ships are amazing. One other really cool cultural thing I just happened upon is something called CAPOEIRA. I heard this drum beat and saw these people congregated and decided to just sit down and watch. It´s kind of a combination of music, singing, dancing and martial arts. People form a circle and take turns ´fighting´and playing instruments while everyone sings. Although the fights aren´t too fast and there is little to no contact, the motion is very fluid and some of the moves are incredible. There´s no set chain of events, it seems one person áttacks while the other defends then counters. If the person opposite reads the attack from then there is contact or just awkwardness, but if they do it right it looks like a fight scene rehearsal for the movies...pretty neat.
Ive met a few local: a bar owner and his regular, Jose and Roberto respectively. They´re nice enough and I´ll usualy stop by for a beer. I also found a bar that does english and spanish conversations on monday nights so I met a few more people there. In the mean time I´m just trying to soak up as much cultural knowledge as possible, in addition to my spanish of course.
Fun Facts about Paris
1) The arc de Triumph (12 lanes of traffic in a roundabout) is the only pace where French car insurance isn´t valid, too high risk. Although I didn´t see it, and my reference is from London, I couldn´t help but think everytime I heard about it: look kids big ben, parlaiment.
2) If you spent one minute looking at each piece in the Louvre consecutive, it would take you 250 straight days, no sleep, no food, nada.
3) The grand hotel (i forget its name) houses the winner of the tour de france for the weekend in their suite (about 10,000 Euro a night). They also fly the winner´s home country´s flag for a week instead of the French flag. So that´s right, for seven consecutive years there was one week where the TEXAS flag flew instead of the french. Bit of a technicality actually since Texas was its own country for a brief period.
MY FIRST FEW DAYS IN ESPANA
Although I was quite relieved to not be living out of a suit case for the next month, I have to admit I was a bit let down upon my arrival in Valencia. It doesn´t help that I was coming from Paris, which could make city might look like a nursing home compared to a fraternity house, but I happened to arrive at the exact wrong time. 8pm on Saturday is a quite hour as things don´t start going until around 1130pm here. I was too tired to stay awake, but Sunday wasn´t much better since that´s truly their day of rest: everything is shut down.
When I picked Valencia was looking for something off the beaten bath: big but not touristy. You asked for it, you got it! There are really almost no americans here, but a few other types of Europeans that frequent here since the beaches are so nice.
I´ve been doing a lot of adventuring around the city and it seems pretty cool: very historic. I got a chance to see the port which was awesome since Valencia just got done hosting the Americas Cup. It´s the big yacht races and those ships are amazing. One other really cool cultural thing I just happened upon is something called CAPOEIRA. I heard this drum beat and saw these people congregated and decided to just sit down and watch. It´s kind of a combination of music, singing, dancing and martial arts. People form a circle and take turns ´fighting´and playing instruments while everyone sings. Although the fights aren´t too fast and there is little to no contact, the motion is very fluid and some of the moves are incredible. There´s no set chain of events, it seems one person áttacks while the other defends then counters. If the person opposite reads the attack from then there is contact or just awkwardness, but if they do it right it looks like a fight scene rehearsal for the movies...pretty neat.
Ive met a few local: a bar owner and his regular, Jose and Roberto respectively. They´re nice enough and I´ll usualy stop by for a beer. I also found a bar that does english and spanish conversations on monday nights so I met a few more people there. In the mean time I´m just trying to soak up as much cultural knowledge as possible, in addition to my spanish of course.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The Trip From Hell
PARIS TO VALENCIA
So apparently I booked my train ticket too late and couldn´t get a direct from Paris to Barcelona. I blame the website, which was malfunctioning, but the good news is I saved about 30 bucks. The bad news is I wouldn´t wish that trip on the worst of my enemies. I left Carolyn´s apt around 8:30 pm to metro to the train station. I caught the overnight from Paris to ´la tour de carol´ in the southwest most point of France. I then waited two and a half hours for the train to Barcelona. Little did I know that the train only took me to the border (which I probably could have walked in half the time) where I was then bused to a new train station. I get on the next train which is a commuter rail that turns into a metro. Some minor miracle occured where I happened to get off at the exact right spot as the barcelona train station. I´m so exhausted I book my ticket to Valencia but forget to ask for the youth discount (which is under 25). I arrive in Valencia around 7:30 pm, making it a 23 hour trek. Im ready for bed.
One side note, if you´ve never riden an overnight train its something you should do once in your life, and NEVER DO AGAIN. There were six of us: a couple, two single males,a dog, myself, and an empty bed in a box about half the size of a dorm room. Between the beds being too small, the lights being left on, and the woman coughing, there was little room for sleep. It builds character I guess.
So apparently I booked my train ticket too late and couldn´t get a direct from Paris to Barcelona. I blame the website, which was malfunctioning, but the good news is I saved about 30 bucks. The bad news is I wouldn´t wish that trip on the worst of my enemies. I left Carolyn´s apt around 8:30 pm to metro to the train station. I caught the overnight from Paris to ´la tour de carol´ in the southwest most point of France. I then waited two and a half hours for the train to Barcelona. Little did I know that the train only took me to the border (which I probably could have walked in half the time) where I was then bused to a new train station. I get on the next train which is a commuter rail that turns into a metro. Some minor miracle occured where I happened to get off at the exact right spot as the barcelona train station. I´m so exhausted I book my ticket to Valencia but forget to ask for the youth discount (which is under 25). I arrive in Valencia around 7:30 pm, making it a 23 hour trek. Im ready for bed.
One side note, if you´ve never riden an overnight train its something you should do once in your life, and NEVER DO AGAIN. There were six of us: a couple, two single males,a dog, myself, and an empty bed in a box about half the size of a dorm room. Between the beds being too small, the lights being left on, and the woman coughing, there was little room for sleep. It builds character I guess.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Paris
Information: I felt it necessary to give an update on how Im treating my blog as this is my first one. I´m still working out how I want to format it and will be experimenting here and there, so feel free to leave comments. Also, I´m hoping to update it around twice a week but that may not be feasible at times.
PARIS
THE FOOD: Is, of course, magnificent. Some of the freshest food I´ve ever eaten. I get the impression that most Parisions (Sp?) shop every day, or at most, once every two days. I really got into it too, by the end of the five days it was simple for me to tell the difference between a fresh baguette and one cooked that morning, let´s not even mention day old baguettes. Most of the dinners are served in a Price fix menu, meaning you pay a lump sum and get to choose an appetizer, entree, and dessert. In my first French meal I had a shark steak, which was great. All of the portions are smaller too, surprise surprise huh? My favorite meal, however, was grabbing some fresh everything (produce, bread, meat) from a local market and eating in the champ (essentially a field) in front of the golden dome that houses Napoleans body.
THE CITY: Is divided into twenty districts almost in the form of a spiral (think the inside of a ho ho). This makes finding your way rather difficult sinces roads aren´t straight and changes names, etc. Fortunately I had an excellent tour guide in the most literal sense. All twenty districts are mandated to have two markets a week, which is amazing. As for the people, I actually found them rather pleasant. Although I didn´t interact with too many locals, as I watched them interact among themselves or with other foreigners, I saw a general level of friendliness I hadn´t expected.
THE SITES: Notre Dame- Saw but didn´t go in
Saint Chapel- Used to house the supposed cross of thorns of christ, now it has one of the most beautiful stained glass murals I´ve ever seen
Louvre- HUGE! People talk about how massive it is and it doesn´t do it justice, we´re talking multiple (more than five) football field of museum, a William and Mary kids dream!
Musee Dórsey: Really cool, a converted train station. I only had time for the impressionist wing, but it was very impressive.
Eiffel Tower: Oddly enough, didn´t go up. Rugby world cup was in town, along with a massive football (soccer) match between Scotland and France so the lines were unreal. The bottom half of it was green in honor of the Cup though, so that was kind of cool
FAT TIRE BIKE TOURS: As I eluded to before, my hostess actually works for a bike tour company. The first full day I was in town we took the afternoon tour...what a great way to see the city. You ride through most of the city and the guide stops at major points and explains history and interesting stories. We liked it so much we went back for the night tour, which was more riding than stories, but we also made our way onto a boat that cruises up and down the Seine (pronounced Sin) that splits the city. Almost surreal.
THE SCOTS: Like I said before, the Scots were in town for the football match. Although there were only about 25,000 of them (only?) they made their presense known. In the Champ du Mars (field in front of the eiffele tower) they congregated and sang, drank, and played football. Im sure they made france re-think their open container laws as they left a huge mess. Nonetheless, on our way into the Rugby World Cup HQ Carolyn and I just stopped to observe this raucous mess and ended up talking with a Scotsman for over an hour. Such a jovial people: bag pipes were played, jokes were non-stop, everyone was friendly, and about every twenty minutes they´d erupt in song about how great Scotland and the Scots are. I really wish we had something like that.
THIRSTY THURSDAYS: Carolyn, who is good friends with my old roommate Chris Grammar, was kind enough to host me. She lives with five others who work for the same company and are all a hoot. Imagine the type of person who is willing to put their career or education on pause to move to europe and work as a tour guide, then put six of them together and something interesting is always happening. Thursday nights are apparently the ´big night´which has become somewhat of a tradition. This thursday, as hyped as it was, did not disappoint. Carolyn, Eliza (another roommate) and I went out to the Refuge, an all you can eat and drink fondue restaurant. Eliza had met a couple Aussies on her tour and they joined us. When we walked in you had to literally setp over the table to sit on the other side. Oh yeah, and the wine was served out of baby bottles. It´s takes about one bottle to get through the awkwardness then hilarity ensues. We then made our way to a Karoake Bar where the girls and the Aussies sang up a storm and I settled in with some Englishmen to share a pint. I woke up the next morning missing my camera and passport. After far too long of a time searching (and by seraching I mean Carolyn since I was worthless) I actually found the two nestled at the foot of one of the roommates bed. Had no idea how or why I put them there, but lesson learned: if you´re going to go big, don´t bring out valuables.
HOBO VS GYPSIES: So Paris is famous for the gypsies around the Eiffel Tower, they ask you if you speak English and if you say yes they try to swindel you for money with some sob story. It´s sort of funny to see experienced people deal with them and respond with things like ´no I dont speak any english at all.´ It´s also kind of sad because who knows what kind of crap they were promised upon coming here and who knows what theyre dealing with. All that aside, the day after the Scots stormed the Champ, a war zone of cans and bottles was left for all to wallow in. Gypsies made the best of the situation by trying to collect cans and bottles for recycling but may have tried to hard when they wandered into the area of a very territorial (and very drunk) hobo. He had built a tower paying homage to his life-giving booze that stood about five stories of beer bottles tall, resting on the top was his wine (still full). He chased the herd of gypsies off with a rock, and if you´ve never seen a flock of gypsies fleeing a rock-wielding hobo, all pity aside it´s one of the funniest things you´ve ever seen. Point one for the hobo. However, as I made my way to the bike tour I noticed the tower had been destroyed and the wine spilt, the gypsies got their furtive revenge. I´ll call it a draw.
QUESTION: I ended up in a discussion with a Englishman one night about the US vs. the EU. He had traveled the states frequently and pointed out how different cultures and mindsets were state to state, region to region. He then asked an interesting question: if the people are so different, east to west, what makes the states united? I´d love to hear people´s personal opinions on what makes our great country united states (other than the obvious historical context). Feel free to post.
PARIS
THE FOOD: Is, of course, magnificent. Some of the freshest food I´ve ever eaten. I get the impression that most Parisions (Sp?) shop every day, or at most, once every two days. I really got into it too, by the end of the five days it was simple for me to tell the difference between a fresh baguette and one cooked that morning, let´s not even mention day old baguettes. Most of the dinners are served in a Price fix menu, meaning you pay a lump sum and get to choose an appetizer, entree, and dessert. In my first French meal I had a shark steak, which was great. All of the portions are smaller too, surprise surprise huh? My favorite meal, however, was grabbing some fresh everything (produce, bread, meat) from a local market and eating in the champ (essentially a field) in front of the golden dome that houses Napoleans body.
THE CITY: Is divided into twenty districts almost in the form of a spiral (think the inside of a ho ho). This makes finding your way rather difficult sinces roads aren´t straight and changes names, etc. Fortunately I had an excellent tour guide in the most literal sense. All twenty districts are mandated to have two markets a week, which is amazing. As for the people, I actually found them rather pleasant. Although I didn´t interact with too many locals, as I watched them interact among themselves or with other foreigners, I saw a general level of friendliness I hadn´t expected.
THE SITES: Notre Dame- Saw but didn´t go in
Saint Chapel- Used to house the supposed cross of thorns of christ, now it has one of the most beautiful stained glass murals I´ve ever seen
Louvre- HUGE! People talk about how massive it is and it doesn´t do it justice, we´re talking multiple (more than five) football field of museum, a William and Mary kids dream!
Musee Dórsey: Really cool, a converted train station. I only had time for the impressionist wing, but it was very impressive.
Eiffel Tower: Oddly enough, didn´t go up. Rugby world cup was in town, along with a massive football (soccer) match between Scotland and France so the lines were unreal. The bottom half of it was green in honor of the Cup though, so that was kind of cool
FAT TIRE BIKE TOURS: As I eluded to before, my hostess actually works for a bike tour company. The first full day I was in town we took the afternoon tour...what a great way to see the city. You ride through most of the city and the guide stops at major points and explains history and interesting stories. We liked it so much we went back for the night tour, which was more riding than stories, but we also made our way onto a boat that cruises up and down the Seine (pronounced Sin) that splits the city. Almost surreal.
THE SCOTS: Like I said before, the Scots were in town for the football match. Although there were only about 25,000 of them (only?) they made their presense known. In the Champ du Mars (field in front of the eiffele tower) they congregated and sang, drank, and played football. Im sure they made france re-think their open container laws as they left a huge mess. Nonetheless, on our way into the Rugby World Cup HQ Carolyn and I just stopped to observe this raucous mess and ended up talking with a Scotsman for over an hour. Such a jovial people: bag pipes were played, jokes were non-stop, everyone was friendly, and about every twenty minutes they´d erupt in song about how great Scotland and the Scots are. I really wish we had something like that.
THIRSTY THURSDAYS: Carolyn, who is good friends with my old roommate Chris Grammar, was kind enough to host me. She lives with five others who work for the same company and are all a hoot. Imagine the type of person who is willing to put their career or education on pause to move to europe and work as a tour guide, then put six of them together and something interesting is always happening. Thursday nights are apparently the ´big night´which has become somewhat of a tradition. This thursday, as hyped as it was, did not disappoint. Carolyn, Eliza (another roommate) and I went out to the Refuge, an all you can eat and drink fondue restaurant. Eliza had met a couple Aussies on her tour and they joined us. When we walked in you had to literally setp over the table to sit on the other side. Oh yeah, and the wine was served out of baby bottles. It´s takes about one bottle to get through the awkwardness then hilarity ensues. We then made our way to a Karoake Bar where the girls and the Aussies sang up a storm and I settled in with some Englishmen to share a pint. I woke up the next morning missing my camera and passport. After far too long of a time searching (and by seraching I mean Carolyn since I was worthless) I actually found the two nestled at the foot of one of the roommates bed. Had no idea how or why I put them there, but lesson learned: if you´re going to go big, don´t bring out valuables.
HOBO VS GYPSIES: So Paris is famous for the gypsies around the Eiffel Tower, they ask you if you speak English and if you say yes they try to swindel you for money with some sob story. It´s sort of funny to see experienced people deal with them and respond with things like ´no I dont speak any english at all.´ It´s also kind of sad because who knows what kind of crap they were promised upon coming here and who knows what theyre dealing with. All that aside, the day after the Scots stormed the Champ, a war zone of cans and bottles was left for all to wallow in. Gypsies made the best of the situation by trying to collect cans and bottles for recycling but may have tried to hard when they wandered into the area of a very territorial (and very drunk) hobo. He had built a tower paying homage to his life-giving booze that stood about five stories of beer bottles tall, resting on the top was his wine (still full). He chased the herd of gypsies off with a rock, and if you´ve never seen a flock of gypsies fleeing a rock-wielding hobo, all pity aside it´s one of the funniest things you´ve ever seen. Point one for the hobo. However, as I made my way to the bike tour I noticed the tower had been destroyed and the wine spilt, the gypsies got their furtive revenge. I´ll call it a draw.
QUESTION: I ended up in a discussion with a Englishman one night about the US vs. the EU. He had traveled the states frequently and pointed out how different cultures and mindsets were state to state, region to region. He then asked an interesting question: if the people are so different, east to west, what makes the states united? I´d love to hear people´s personal opinions on what makes our great country united states (other than the obvious historical context). Feel free to post.
Monday, September 10, 2007
London and Sweden
LONDON: Although Im working hard on developing a "European mentality" I quickly realized this easy-going mindset doesn't actually work for everything in Europe. At passport control in Heathrow I was threatened with being kicked out of the UK since I neglected to put an address where I would be staying. I figured I was catching a flight to Sweden the next day so why did it matter? It just does, and after producing an address and several minutes of being questioned I was allowed to pass through. Apparently not everyone in London is jolly. My friend's flat is in Westminster and is rather accomodating in comparison with most big city dwellings. Although I've spent two nights and three days here, I decided against touring since Ive done so twice before and it can be pricey (especially with the pound). Most time was spent appreciating london in the form of eating, walking through the city, enjoying the parks, and of course, having a pint or two (or ten).
SWEDEN: My first travel experience with Ryanair went quite well, much to my surprise actually. The flight certainly wouldn't qualify as comfortable and the service wasn't great either, but I didn't get hit with any excess fees and made both flights without any hassle. The concept behind the discount airlines is that you pay for anything other than a seat (checked luggage, drinks, snacks, early boarding, etc) and they save costs by flying into cheaper airports. I had to take a 45 minute train from London to Stansted and in Sweden my bus from Svatska to Stockholm was an hour twenty. Although what equated to an extra five hours of travel time seems excessive, it was still worth the $100 I saved. As my bus arrived just before midnight in Stockholm I started to doubt my plan of meeting Jp at the bus station. For those of you unaware, my plan was my friend and I would meet at the bus station, the bvious flaw being that we are two tall blond men in a Scandanavian country and I had no idea how crowded this station would be. As it turns out: not that crowded and we found each other with relative ease and headed out for a drink or two. The Sky bar is about 9 stories high and overlooks the city; although the view isn't nearly as good at night (so I'm told) it was still pretty amazing. After a couple drinks we went back as he had to work the next day.
While JP worked I decided to do a walking tour of the city. Learning rather quickly the Swedish Crown doesn't go nearly as far as you think, my predominant source of food was Kebob (pretty much a gyro) as they were cheap and easy. I seriously think three of my four meals in Sweden were a kebob, does that border on addiction? Stockholm is setup almost like Venice: a collection of small islands. Its actually much bigger than Venice, which is nice as there is a lot to see. Yet it is also manageable and, if you have the time, it can all be done on foot. I check out some of the central city and shopping where they have a main drag that reminds me of the promenade in Santa Monica. I also toured the ritzy area and wandered my way onto a Steven Bloom outdoor art exhibit. For those of you unaware of Mr. Bloom, he's a photographer that photographs animals in nature. The only peice of his I'd seen before I thought was a hoax: awhile back someone sent me a picture of a huge great white shark leaping out of the water to eat a fish that was also mid-air. Knowing that sharks don't jump that frequently and calculating the odds of someone being there, ready to take a pictures for that two second event, I was sure the picture was a product of photoshop. I was wrong. It turns out he spent sixteen days on ship in shark infested waters, crouched for up to twleve hours a day ready to take a pic. Amazing sacrifice that paid off. This picture is, literally, unbelievable. (Click on the question mark next to the top of the blog and that will link you to the picture to see for yourself)
I met up with Jp after work and we went out for a nice dinner and a night on the town with his work friends, half of whom were Swedish. It was nice to interact with some locals. The Swedish people are polite and could be considered friendly, but it's not really a place where you can expect to meet locals. We made a night of it and individuals would drop as each hour passed, leaving Jp and I in a desolate bar around 3AM. On our way back we stopped off at a Kebob place as it was time to feed my addiction. In the window we noticed they sold 3.5 beer (which 18 year olds can buy, you have to be 21 for anything over that) and decided to get a couple. The guy came back with a six pack and we were too stupid to turn it down. After downing our delicious Kebobs we headed back to Jp's flat, beer in hand (no open container laws). This six pack turned out to be our demise and we stayed up all night to finish it. Jp caught his flight and I slept til 2.
Still hurting from the night/morning before I tried my best to get the most out of the city. I toured the older part of the city (almost like Old towne Alexandria) and made my way to the Vasa Museum. The Vasa is an old ship from the early 1600 that was supposed to symbolize the brilliance of Swedish shipmaking and the Swedish navy: the only problem being it sank 300 meters off port on its maiden voyage. The brackish waters preserved the ship and it was pulled up around 1960 and a museum was built around it. It was all really quite amazing. That night I headed into town to catch the Sweden/Denmark (big rivalry) football game. It was great being able to observe some of the local culture, and despite the game ending nil-nil, it was actually very exciting (a few pints help that). Even though most of the crowd was quite into the game, the actions/re-actions paled in comparison to a similar experience I had with English fans.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Departure
Ladies and Gents,
I've created this blog in case anyone wants to check in and see how/what I am doing without me boring you with a mass email.
This is really just a test to see how everything works but figured I'd fill you in on my departure information:
It's a little after 2 AM and I'm nowhere near done packing, but all of the important stuff has made it's way into luggage. Wednesday (the 5th) morning I will be heading from dulles to Heathrow with only a suitcase, a pack, and one kick ass euro mullet. Thursday I'll fly to Stockholm for the weekend then back across the pond on Sunday. from there I'll chunnel to the mainland and see what kind of devastation I can cause.
I've created this blog in case anyone wants to check in and see how/what I am doing without me boring you with a mass email.
This is really just a test to see how everything works but figured I'd fill you in on my departure information:
It's a little after 2 AM and I'm nowhere near done packing, but all of the important stuff has made it's way into luggage. Wednesday (the 5th) morning I will be heading from dulles to Heathrow with only a suitcase, a pack, and one kick ass euro mullet. Thursday I'll fly to Stockholm for the weekend then back across the pond on Sunday. from there I'll chunnel to the mainland and see what kind of devastation I can cause.
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