So August has officially come to an end. If I were back in Texas this would mean I would be happy to have survived yet another August in Texas and would be excited at the fact that the worst was over; in Paris this means all the French are back from their vacations and for me its back to cramming into crowded stinky metros and being shoved off sidewalks. At least it was nice while it lasted.
This also marks the first August in my life where I haven't had a whole new school year lingering in front of me. So given the fact that I was given a break from both the Texas heat and the French for the month as well as having no school to return to I'd have to vote this as one great August.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Friday, August 19, 2005
Amsterdam, The City of Sex, Drugs, and Heineken!
One evening while glancing at one of my favorite websites, SNCF (the French train system website), I came across a fantastic deal to take Thalys to Amsterdam for the months of July and August. Not being one to pass up a great deal I started planning immediately and went to work the next day to ask for a Friday off so I could enjoy an extended weekend in Amsterdam. A few days later I purchased my tickets, found a hostel and was set to go to Amsterdam for the weekend of August 12.
Later on one night at a work party it came up that I would be going to Amsterdam for a weekend by myself and somehow as a result of that one of my coworkers, one of my supervisors actually, decided to come with me. This would add a new twist to my traveling as now I would be speaking in French for the whole weekend with my travel buddy.
So Friday finally came and we met at the train station and off to Amsterdam we went. We arrived early in the afternoon to find it pouring down rain as well as being quite cold. Despite having read that it would be chilly and rainy before I left, I had still opted to wear the flip flops and tank top determined not to accept that summer might already be on its way out. Needless to say I was freezing and miserable upon arrival. Thankfully I had at the last minute thrown in a sweater (as you should always do when traveling in Europe I’ve come to learn) so once I changed into that and put proper shoes on I was ready to go. By this time the rain had thankfully stopped and I was once again content.
The first excursion for the trip would of course be to the Heineken brewery to take part in the “Heineken Experience”. With the price of admission we were given 3 beers (25 cl) and a free Heineken glass. Well worth it in my mind and a great way to start off the trip. After finishing up our beers we then headed over to the Van Gogh museum. I enjoyed the museum a lot, although I feel it was rather expensive for a museum as well as rather small and several of his more famous works were on loan in Asia somewhere. Once we had finished this we then wondered back to our hostel, dropped our stuff off and went in search of food. After walking all over to find a place to eat we wound up back at the hostel and ate at the bar there. Not ideal but it seemed to be the only choice we had besides continuing to walk around forever trying to find a place that was affordable and had what we both wanted.
The next morning we woke up and meet up with a company to do a guided bike tour of the city. I can’t remember the last time I had ridden a bike so I was a little nervous, but as the saying holds true, you never do forget how to ride a bike. We had a great 4 hour ride where we visited a windmill, a cheese/clog farm, and much of the city and some of the country side as well. A little pricey for the tour but I was happy to pay as I really enjoyed it (even met two people from Houston on the tour!). After the bike tour we did the other typical Amsterdam tourist trap and took a boat ride along the canals. Not exactly that great, but seemed to be something you just had to do. We did one that allowed you to hop on and off so that enabled us to take it over to the Anne Frank house were we hopped off and encountered and enormous line. We waited for quite some time in the line and eventually got in to see where Anne Frank hid away with her family for two years before being taken away. Not quite what one would expect to see, but worth visiting nonetheless.
That evening we again set out for dinner and it was at this point my travel buddy started getting on my nerves. Despite being French and having only left his country for one day so far on this trip, he had it set that he wanted to go to a French restaurant for dinner. When I suggested we try a Dutch restaurant you would have thought I just suggested we go jump off a bridge into the canal. So we set out in search of a French restaurant, or at least something close enough to have “true red wine” (aka French wine). After walking for quite some time we found something that seemed to suit his taste (the menu had a French translation (the only one we came across)) and we settled there. During the dinner and throughout the trip he had to keep pointing out how American I was because I drank beer and liked Hamburgers. He also had to point out what was “missing” from the meals he had during his visit to NYC, namely the cheese and bread (perhaps more but I cut him off there). This started getting on my nerves quite a bit and at times I wanted to scream at him and point out how contradictory and how French he was being, but I resisted and let him go one being an idiot.
The next morning I think it was obvious we weren’t compatible travel companions at least from my side it was obvious. However, we continued on together and finished up the boat tour. This took longer than expected and since he had an earlier train home than I did he had to leave after the boat tour ended. So off he went to the train station and I was content to have some time to myself. I headed back over to the museum district and went to the Rijksmuseum which houses a large collection of Dutch art including Rembrandt. Once I was finished with the museum I still had some time to kill so I went to the Plaza area we had been to the day before on the bike tour and had lunch. Since I enjoy sitting in large outdoor Plazas like that I took a table out on the terrace. Moments later it started raining and only continued to get harder. I however stayed outside somewhat protected by a large umbrella. By some miracle it actually stopped raining by the time I finished my lunch and I was able to get back to the hostel to grab my stuff and get to the train all while staying dry. I boarded the train and by late that evening I was back home in Paris.
Despite my wish for a better travel buddy for the trip I had a great time and had great practice with my French. I loved Amsterdam and found it an absolutely charming and relaxing city. It was such a wonderful change from Paris and I would love to go back there one day for a week just to hang out. I did see the red light district as I was staying right in the heart of it and I must say it wasn’t at all what I imagined. Yes there were the prostitutes and drug dealers, etc. but it all seemed so much more tame and calm and not threatening in any way. I think it was this feeling about the city that I enjoyed. Nothing seemed rushed or sketchy as it can seem in Paris, it was just very tranquil.
Later on one night at a work party it came up that I would be going to Amsterdam for a weekend by myself and somehow as a result of that one of my coworkers, one of my supervisors actually, decided to come with me. This would add a new twist to my traveling as now I would be speaking in French for the whole weekend with my travel buddy.
So Friday finally came and we met at the train station and off to Amsterdam we went. We arrived early in the afternoon to find it pouring down rain as well as being quite cold. Despite having read that it would be chilly and rainy before I left, I had still opted to wear the flip flops and tank top determined not to accept that summer might already be on its way out. Needless to say I was freezing and miserable upon arrival. Thankfully I had at the last minute thrown in a sweater (as you should always do when traveling in Europe I’ve come to learn) so once I changed into that and put proper shoes on I was ready to go. By this time the rain had thankfully stopped and I was once again content.
The first excursion for the trip would of course be to the Heineken brewery to take part in the “Heineken Experience”. With the price of admission we were given 3 beers (25 cl) and a free Heineken glass. Well worth it in my mind and a great way to start off the trip. After finishing up our beers we then headed over to the Van Gogh museum. I enjoyed the museum a lot, although I feel it was rather expensive for a museum as well as rather small and several of his more famous works were on loan in Asia somewhere. Once we had finished this we then wondered back to our hostel, dropped our stuff off and went in search of food. After walking all over to find a place to eat we wound up back at the hostel and ate at the bar there. Not ideal but it seemed to be the only choice we had besides continuing to walk around forever trying to find a place that was affordable and had what we both wanted.
The next morning we woke up and meet up with a company to do a guided bike tour of the city. I can’t remember the last time I had ridden a bike so I was a little nervous, but as the saying holds true, you never do forget how to ride a bike. We had a great 4 hour ride where we visited a windmill, a cheese/clog farm, and much of the city and some of the country side as well. A little pricey for the tour but I was happy to pay as I really enjoyed it (even met two people from Houston on the tour!). After the bike tour we did the other typical Amsterdam tourist trap and took a boat ride along the canals. Not exactly that great, but seemed to be something you just had to do. We did one that allowed you to hop on and off so that enabled us to take it over to the Anne Frank house were we hopped off and encountered and enormous line. We waited for quite some time in the line and eventually got in to see where Anne Frank hid away with her family for two years before being taken away. Not quite what one would expect to see, but worth visiting nonetheless.
That evening we again set out for dinner and it was at this point my travel buddy started getting on my nerves. Despite being French and having only left his country for one day so far on this trip, he had it set that he wanted to go to a French restaurant for dinner. When I suggested we try a Dutch restaurant you would have thought I just suggested we go jump off a bridge into the canal. So we set out in search of a French restaurant, or at least something close enough to have “true red wine” (aka French wine). After walking for quite some time we found something that seemed to suit his taste (the menu had a French translation (the only one we came across)) and we settled there. During the dinner and throughout the trip he had to keep pointing out how American I was because I drank beer and liked Hamburgers. He also had to point out what was “missing” from the meals he had during his visit to NYC, namely the cheese and bread (perhaps more but I cut him off there). This started getting on my nerves quite a bit and at times I wanted to scream at him and point out how contradictory and how French he was being, but I resisted and let him go one being an idiot.
The next morning I think it was obvious we weren’t compatible travel companions at least from my side it was obvious. However, we continued on together and finished up the boat tour. This took longer than expected and since he had an earlier train home than I did he had to leave after the boat tour ended. So off he went to the train station and I was content to have some time to myself. I headed back over to the museum district and went to the Rijksmuseum which houses a large collection of Dutch art including Rembrandt. Once I was finished with the museum I still had some time to kill so I went to the Plaza area we had been to the day before on the bike tour and had lunch. Since I enjoy sitting in large outdoor Plazas like that I took a table out on the terrace. Moments later it started raining and only continued to get harder. I however stayed outside somewhat protected by a large umbrella. By some miracle it actually stopped raining by the time I finished my lunch and I was able to get back to the hostel to grab my stuff and get to the train all while staying dry. I boarded the train and by late that evening I was back home in Paris.
Despite my wish for a better travel buddy for the trip I had a great time and had great practice with my French. I loved Amsterdam and found it an absolutely charming and relaxing city. It was such a wonderful change from Paris and I would love to go back there one day for a week just to hang out. I did see the red light district as I was staying right in the heart of it and I must say it wasn’t at all what I imagined. Yes there were the prostitutes and drug dealers, etc. but it all seemed so much more tame and calm and not threatening in any way. I think it was this feeling about the city that I enjoyed. Nothing seemed rushed or sketchy as it can seem in Paris, it was just very tranquil.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Black Dot Gazers
In all the traveling I’ve done within the last year I have been fortunate enough to find myself in the same cities as some of the world’s most famous museums, not to mention living in one. Never really being a fan of museums I have been forcing myself to go and take advantage of the opportunities to visit some whenever possible. Little by little the museums have become more interesting to me and some I have actually really enjoyed and would highly recommend. I’ve discovered a love of the sculpted arts as well as an appreciation for artists such as Rodin, Monet, and Matisse.
Finally having some free time again I have decided to start taking in some of the culture Paris has to offer me in an attempt to further culture myself. Two weeks ago I walked over to the Picasso Museum here in Paris. Nice museum as far as architecture and layout go, but by the end of my visit I concluded I am not a Picasso fan. I’m sorry for those Picasso lovers out there, but his work just doesn’t do it for me and I don’t think it ever will. I could at least see how one how one could appreciate it. This could not be said for the art I came across this Sunday at the Georges Pompidou Center. The museum in the Pompidou center is a modern art museum. This would be my third visit to a modern art museum within the last year despite my dislike of modern art.
For some reason I feel this need to keep giving modern art another try, and yet, each and every time it has only further disappointed me. Aside from not liking the art within the modern art museums I have to say I also tend to greatly dislike the people to be found within them. While I’d say a good majority are people just like me, taking a glimpse at some art, there are always those people roaming around that seem so moved by that white canvas with a large black dot in the center. They have to stand there and stare at it for minutes on end as if it actually means something. It just makes me want to scream at them and point out that they’re staring at a black dot. How do we actually call this art? I used to doodle black dots on my notebooks in grade school, yet suddenly because some “artist” has put it on canvas and has had a “troubled” life we now call it art and say it symbolizes the void that is life?
And if you ever have the unfortunate opportunity to actually speak to one of the black dot gazers they will more than likely try to make you feel inferior because you just don’t understand what the black dot symbolizes and you probably never will because you’ve been too influenced by society’s conformist ideas.
I don’t want to bash all modern art though nor do I mean to generalize those who appreciate modern art. There have been a few pieces I’ve come across that I did actually enjoy, however, I could probably count them on my fingers.
So while I have enjoyed exposing myself to that side of art, I think for the time being I’ve had my fill of modern art museums and will stick to more of the classics for a while.
Finally having some free time again I have decided to start taking in some of the culture Paris has to offer me in an attempt to further culture myself. Two weeks ago I walked over to the Picasso Museum here in Paris. Nice museum as far as architecture and layout go, but by the end of my visit I concluded I am not a Picasso fan. I’m sorry for those Picasso lovers out there, but his work just doesn’t do it for me and I don’t think it ever will. I could at least see how one how one could appreciate it. This could not be said for the art I came across this Sunday at the Georges Pompidou Center. The museum in the Pompidou center is a modern art museum. This would be my third visit to a modern art museum within the last year despite my dislike of modern art.
For some reason I feel this need to keep giving modern art another try, and yet, each and every time it has only further disappointed me. Aside from not liking the art within the modern art museums I have to say I also tend to greatly dislike the people to be found within them. While I’d say a good majority are people just like me, taking a glimpse at some art, there are always those people roaming around that seem so moved by that white canvas with a large black dot in the center. They have to stand there and stare at it for minutes on end as if it actually means something. It just makes me want to scream at them and point out that they’re staring at a black dot. How do we actually call this art? I used to doodle black dots on my notebooks in grade school, yet suddenly because some “artist” has put it on canvas and has had a “troubled” life we now call it art and say it symbolizes the void that is life?
And if you ever have the unfortunate opportunity to actually speak to one of the black dot gazers they will more than likely try to make you feel inferior because you just don’t understand what the black dot symbolizes and you probably never will because you’ve been too influenced by society’s conformist ideas.
I don’t want to bash all modern art though nor do I mean to generalize those who appreciate modern art. There have been a few pieces I’ve come across that I did actually enjoy, however, I could probably count them on my fingers.
So while I have enjoyed exposing myself to that side of art, I think for the time being I’ve had my fill of modern art museums and will stick to more of the classics for a while.
Monday, August 01, 2005
All Great Adventures Must Have An End At Some Point
I think most of you know by now, but for those of you who don’t I’m going ahead and officially announcing it. Do to an irresistible offer by my boss to stay in my internship and a desire to stay in France a little longer I have officially decided to stay here in Paris in my internship till the end of December. Yes I know you were all expecting me home in September as I thought I’d be home then as well, but I couldn’t really pass this opportunity up despite how much I was looking forward to getting back and seeing everyone. But the good news is there are now an additional 4 months that you can all come and visit me if you haven’t had the chance yet!
I can now also officially announce my return date as I have just purchased my return ticket home. My European adventure will be coming to an end on January 3, 2006 when I arrive at Houston International Airport at 2:05 p.m. This means I will be spending a fabulous New Year’s Eve in Paris before my depart. So anyone want to come out and celebrate New Year’s Eve with me in a fantastic city??? Danielle, want to use that return ticket a little earlier??? I can do my best to house anyone that wants to come out although at this point I can’t promise I’ll even have an apartment for those couple of days. Everyone give it some thought though, I can promise a great New Year’s Eve filled with fireworks off of one of the world’s most well known monuments.
On that note, see you all January 3!!!
I can now also officially announce my return date as I have just purchased my return ticket home. My European adventure will be coming to an end on January 3, 2006 when I arrive at Houston International Airport at 2:05 p.m. This means I will be spending a fabulous New Year’s Eve in Paris before my depart. So anyone want to come out and celebrate New Year’s Eve with me in a fantastic city??? Danielle, want to use that return ticket a little earlier??? I can do my best to house anyone that wants to come out although at this point I can’t promise I’ll even have an apartment for those couple of days. Everyone give it some thought though, I can promise a great New Year’s Eve filled with fireworks off of one of the world’s most well known monuments.
On that note, see you all January 3!!!
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Summer Vacay!
So Friday marked the start of the French vacation period. It seems that everyone in France takes their vacations during the month of August resulting in many businesses closing down for the month. At my office we had a sort of celebration including music and champagne and I have to say it felt as though I was back in elementary school (with the exception of the champagne) having our end of the year party before summer vacation. Everyone discussing their vacation plans followed by a “goodbye, see you in two-three weeks.” A few of us, lowly interns and top people who took their vacations in July, will be around for the month of august but more than half our office will be gone. I must say I’m quite curious to see how this is going to play out.
I also hear Paris will be empty with the exception of tourists. So now as a result of vacation season, the city that this country revolves around (don’t even get me started on that) will now be empty or nearly empty for an entire month thus the entire country is basically shutting down for a month. It just amazes me that an entire country decides to take its vacation at the same time. In a world of global business, is this really a good idea?
On top of all this I find myself wondering “where are they all going on their vacations?” From speaking with many French people to reading their test answers (part of my job) it seems to me that they rarely leave their country. For just within my first few trips after arriving here in telling my friends at school where I had gone they said “wow you’ve visited more than I have.” That was after having only visited one or two other European countries. In asking where they had gone, most said they hadn’t left France yet. This just continues to amaze me since you can get to Spain within 8 hours, England in 3 hours, Belgium in 1.5 hours, Germany in 3-4 hours, Italy within 6 hours, Switzerland within 4 hours, Netherlands in 4 hours, and Luxembourg in 4 hours. All this is of course simply by train and times can be even shorter (or longer) depending on where in France you’re coming from. Let us not forget to mention to that Europe has a great network of low cost airlines that put our “low cost” airlines to shame. So why does this country place so much emphasis on vacation time and devote a whole month to it yet they don’t actually take the time to see other parts of the world let alone their own continent?
France has yet again managed to perplex me.
I also hear Paris will be empty with the exception of tourists. So now as a result of vacation season, the city that this country revolves around (don’t even get me started on that) will now be empty or nearly empty for an entire month thus the entire country is basically shutting down for a month. It just amazes me that an entire country decides to take its vacation at the same time. In a world of global business, is this really a good idea?
On top of all this I find myself wondering “where are they all going on their vacations?” From speaking with many French people to reading their test answers (part of my job) it seems to me that they rarely leave their country. For just within my first few trips after arriving here in telling my friends at school where I had gone they said “wow you’ve visited more than I have.” That was after having only visited one or two other European countries. In asking where they had gone, most said they hadn’t left France yet. This just continues to amaze me since you can get to Spain within 8 hours, England in 3 hours, Belgium in 1.5 hours, Germany in 3-4 hours, Italy within 6 hours, Switzerland within 4 hours, Netherlands in 4 hours, and Luxembourg in 4 hours. All this is of course simply by train and times can be even shorter (or longer) depending on where in France you’re coming from. Let us not forget to mention to that Europe has a great network of low cost airlines that put our “low cost” airlines to shame. So why does this country place so much emphasis on vacation time and devote a whole month to it yet they don’t actually take the time to see other parts of the world let alone their own continent?
France has yet again managed to perplex me.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Discovering Indian Cuisine
Having such a love of spicey foods, I'm surprised at how long it has taken me to discover the yummyness of Indian food. I find it weird too that it took me moving to France to finally breakdown and try Indian food.
Anyway, just wanted to share that after I had a very good dinner last night at an Indian restaurant for a good bye party for one of my coworkers.
Anyway, just wanted to share that after I had a very good dinner last night at an Indian restaurant for a good bye party for one of my coworkers.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Mmmm mustard
So I really like French mustard and feel that it is far superior to American yellow mustard. I’ve yet to find a mustard that I enjoy more than a French Dijon mustard. Just today I was eating a Camembert sandwich (with butter) and thinking how great this sandwich would be with some nice French mustard on it. Then I began to wonder why the French never put mustard on their sandwiches. I’ve never found a sandwich in France with mustard on it unless I requested it. Oddly enough I’ve had sandwiches with ketchup on them, but no mustard. So now I’m wondering, what does France do with all this yummy mustard?
Monday, July 25, 2005
Hook 'em Horns!
So this Sunday I went down to the Champs Elysees to watch the last lag of the Tour de France and see our Texas native Lance Armstrong take his 7th and final win! I went down there with the intention of meeting up with the Texas Exes (UT alumni association), however, having never met them before I didn’t know what anyone would look like. I got down there and headed to the spot where they said to meet only to find out no one was there and the race wasn’t actually coming down that far as it should have so I knew no one would be coming. I walked around trying to figure out what to do and then I spotted the giant Texas state flag. So naturally I wondered over there where I came across several people with Texas paraphernalia on and some UT gear on as well. However, I was also supposed to be meeting up with a French friend so I had to go back to where I was supposed to meet him. Once I finally found him I took him over to the Texas area where I saw a small group of people wearing UT shirts. I went up and asked if they were here with the Texas Exes. As it turns out they weren’t there with the Texas Exes but as they had just moved to Paris 5 months ago had been hoping to get involved with them. So I chatted with them for a while and wound up watching the race with them. I had a really great time talking and hanging out with them and they couldn’t have been friendlier. It was as if we were already friends.
So this little experience got me thinking how glad I am that I went to UT. I don’t know how other schools are but I get the feeling that the large Texas schools like UT and A&M really bond with alumni a lot more than others. People often criticize our schools as being too large and impersonal which I’ll admit they can be. Yet what those people don’t see that don’t go to our schools is how bonded we all are just for having gone to the same school. This is something I really appreciate and I think actually gets lost on smaller schools. So yes while you bond a lot more in smaller schools with the people you take classes with, once it’s all over there just isn’t that alumni connection that the larger schools have.
In taking this even further, in France they don’t even do alumni associations and they certainly don’t have any involvement with their schools after they leave. There are no donations made, no alumni groups, no reunions, etc. They tend to think we are ridiculous in that we actually give money to our school after having paid so much to go there as well.
So to sum up, I just wanted to point out some observations I made this weekend and to state that I really like our alumni associations and the bond that we form with alumni from big schools like UT as even all the way across the Ocean I now have two new friends from UT right here in Paris.
Oh, and watching the end of the tour was cool although I was too short to see much and I only managed to catch glimpses of the riders as they rode by. Thankfully I was in the section where they do the 7 laps around the Champs so I had 7 chances to see Lance. Got a few photos but none that great. Perhaps they’ll come out in a later album.
So this little experience got me thinking how glad I am that I went to UT. I don’t know how other schools are but I get the feeling that the large Texas schools like UT and A&M really bond with alumni a lot more than others. People often criticize our schools as being too large and impersonal which I’ll admit they can be. Yet what those people don’t see that don’t go to our schools is how bonded we all are just for having gone to the same school. This is something I really appreciate and I think actually gets lost on smaller schools. So yes while you bond a lot more in smaller schools with the people you take classes with, once it’s all over there just isn’t that alumni connection that the larger schools have.
In taking this even further, in France they don’t even do alumni associations and they certainly don’t have any involvement with their schools after they leave. There are no donations made, no alumni groups, no reunions, etc. They tend to think we are ridiculous in that we actually give money to our school after having paid so much to go there as well.
So to sum up, I just wanted to point out some observations I made this weekend and to state that I really like our alumni associations and the bond that we form with alumni from big schools like UT as even all the way across the Ocean I now have two new friends from UT right here in Paris.
Oh, and watching the end of the tour was cool although I was too short to see much and I only managed to catch glimpses of the riders as they rode by. Thankfully I was in the section where they do the 7 laps around the Champs so I had 7 chances to see Lance. Got a few photos but none that great. Perhaps they’ll come out in a later album.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Scandinavia with a dash of Eastern Europe
So I’m very happy to announce that my big trip has successfully been booked and I’m all set to go. I opted to make a tour of Scandinavia for my final big trip since I have a friend from Texas living in Helsinki, Finland and I wanted to visit her. So below are my plans:
Sept. 2 Fly from Paris to Bergen, Norway. Spend two nights in Bergen and tour the Fjords
Sept. 4 Take a train (apparently very scenic train ride) from Bergen to Oslo. Spend 1 night in Oslo.
Sept. 5 Take an overnight ferry from Oslo to Copenhagen, Denmark.
Sept. 6 Arrive in Copenhagen, spend two nights in Copenhagen
Sept. 8 Take a train from Copenhagen to Stockholm, spend 3 nights in Stockholm and tour the archipelago.
Sept. 11 Take an overnight ferry from Stockholm to Helsinki
Sept. 12 Arrive in Helsinki, spend 3 nights in Helsinki with Wai-San!
Sept. 15 Take a ferry to Tallin, Estonia, spend one night in Tallin.
Sept. 16 Fly from Tallin to Paris.
So it was difficult and time consuming to plan but alas it is done and I’m extremely excited!!! So if anyone reading this has been to any of the listed places and has recommendations on what to see it would be greatly appreciated if you would pass it along.
Sept. 2 Fly from Paris to Bergen, Norway. Spend two nights in Bergen and tour the Fjords
Sept. 4 Take a train (apparently very scenic train ride) from Bergen to Oslo. Spend 1 night in Oslo.
Sept. 5 Take an overnight ferry from Oslo to Copenhagen, Denmark.
Sept. 6 Arrive in Copenhagen, spend two nights in Copenhagen
Sept. 8 Take a train from Copenhagen to Stockholm, spend 3 nights in Stockholm and tour the archipelago.
Sept. 11 Take an overnight ferry from Stockholm to Helsinki
Sept. 12 Arrive in Helsinki, spend 3 nights in Helsinki with Wai-San!
Sept. 15 Take a ferry to Tallin, Estonia, spend one night in Tallin.
Sept. 16 Fly from Tallin to Paris.
So it was difficult and time consuming to plan but alas it is done and I’m extremely excited!!! So if anyone reading this has been to any of the listed places and has recommendations on what to see it would be greatly appreciated if you would pass it along.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Ever wanted to wash all your clothes at once?
So here’s a story I’ve wanted to tell for a while but got too busy to post on the blog.
About two weekends ago on Friday after work I walk down to a nearby pizza place and pick up some pizza for dinner. I decide to take the back way to get home which takes me past the laundry mat I use. As I’m walking by what do I see inside???
Well inside my laundry mat was an elderly naked man sitting in a chair with nothing on but a newspaper to cover his genitalia. Not only was I disgusted with the fact that he’s in my laundry mat like that sitting in a chair I’ve sat in before, but I was also extremely disturbed with the fact that there were about 4 other people inside there with him, one sitting next to him and one talking to him. Is there not something wrong with this picture? Am I the only one that finds this odd that a man is sitting naked in a laundry mat?
Anyway found the story amusing and wanted to share it with anyone who chooses to read it.
About two weekends ago on Friday after work I walk down to a nearby pizza place and pick up some pizza for dinner. I decide to take the back way to get home which takes me past the laundry mat I use. As I’m walking by what do I see inside???
Well inside my laundry mat was an elderly naked man sitting in a chair with nothing on but a newspaper to cover his genitalia. Not only was I disgusted with the fact that he’s in my laundry mat like that sitting in a chair I’ve sat in before, but I was also extremely disturbed with the fact that there were about 4 other people inside there with him, one sitting next to him and one talking to him. Is there not something wrong with this picture? Am I the only one that finds this odd that a man is sitting naked in a laundry mat?
Anyway found the story amusing and wanted to share it with anyone who chooses to read it.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Lone Traveller
So as some of you may or may not know, July 14 (Thursday) was France’s national holiday. Thankfully it fell on a Thursday this year meaning that I had not only Thursday off, but Friday off as well. Not being one to pass up a long weekend I of course quickly made travel plans upon hearing of my time off. I however did decide to stay in Paris for the night of the 14th so that I could celebrate the day in the nation’s capital with my only friends in the country, Dave and Jen.
We decided we would go and watch the fireworks off the Eiffel tower from the field just behind it. Thinking like Americans we figured we better get there super early so we could have great seats. However, what we forgot to take into account is the fact that the French do not like waiting or showing up for anything early. So Dave and Jen showed up very early in the day to hang out on the field and guard our spot and I showed up about 2 hours behind them after having decided to literally trek across all of Paris city center with my packed picnic bag on my shoulder. Why I decided to actually walk I’ll never know. In case anyone is wondering just how far it is, I seriously live about as far away from the Eiffel tower as you can while still being in Paris’ main city center. So even though I showed up 2 hours behind them, we all three could have showed up even later as I previously mentioned, the French do not show up early for anything. However, we were together on a beautiful day sitting in a perfect spot on the Champs de Mars behind the Eiffel tower with several bottles of wine, lots of bread, cheese, fruit, and other goodies so we were very content.
The night went on and eventually Scott (a Pepperdine MIB from the year before us who is still in France) and his French friend joined us and we continued to enjoy ourselves until the big fireworks show. At last around 10:40 or so, just after the sun set, the fireworks started. I have to say, I have always been upset I wasn’t able to see the big fireworks display they set off from the Eiffel tower for New Years Eve 1999/2000, but this was a definite substitute as it was amazing. It was a beautiful display of fireworks off of a wonderful monument and I have never felt so lucky to have been in Paris as I did that night. I only wish everyone could have been there with me.
Once the fireworks were over we hung around a while until the crowd died and then made our way home as Jen and I both had early morning trains (to separate locals). I was set to catch the 7 a.m. train to Bayeux so that I would have time to see the Bayeux Tapestry before my 1 p.m. tour of the D Day beaches. However, I woke up at 7 a.m. despite having set my alarm for 5 a.m. I quickly checked the next train time, got ready and ran off the station. Managed to catch the next train at 8:40 and was on my way to Bayeux. However, I didn’t have enough time to see the tapestry so I just walked around the town and had lunch and then met up with my tour group/guide. Bayeux is a small town in Normandy (northern France) that is not too far from the Normandy landing beaches of WWII, thus making it a popular departure point for several D Day beach tours, which is why I chose to go there in the first place. I met my tour group and we hopped in the van and off we went. Our first stop was the American cemetery. A lovely cemetery right on the cliff of one of the beaches where American soldiers landed during WWII and it is actually now considered American territory. So technically for the 40 minutes I spent there I was back in the U.S! We then drove along the coast and visited both the Omaha and Utah beaches and the Omaha beach museum. We made our way to Point du Hoc where you can still see the German bunkers and can truly picture what it must have been like as they have let this beach/cliff stay the way it was instead of trying to forget it all and bring it back to normal. We also visited St. Mere Eglise where the parachutist got stuck on the roof of the church and stayed there amongst the fighting for the day. After 5 hours of visiting the various American D Day spots we made our way back to Bayeux and ended the tour. I walked around the town some, very cute town, and then hopped on a train to St. Malo.
On the last leg of the trip to St. Malo I was sitting in a smaller compartment of the train with only a few other people in that area. Upon entering the train a man who seemed a little dirty, had his shirt open and was asking for money was standing in the entrance to the train but I had walked passed him and taken my seat. Thankfully he had gone to the main train compartment and I was there in my smaller compartment quite content. There was another girl across from me about the same age as me so I felt fine. Unfortunately the man came back and as it turned out he was with the girl across from me. And of course since I was girl traveling alone I was susceptible to him bothering me and naturally he did. He started off saying “bonsoir Madame”, but Madame typically being reserved for older women or married women, the girl he was with corrected him and told him to say Mademoiselle. This then started a conversation of asking if I was married or engaged or how old I was. He then of course had to come over and say he was sorry and wanted to say Bonsoir Mademoiselle and shake my hand. He was obviously drunk as just minutes before he was sticking his head out the window and walking all over the train seats and arm rests and as previously mentioned he seemed a little dirty to me, so I of course was not too excited about shaking his hand. I decided to suck it up hoping it would end the conversation and went to shake his hand but then he pulled his hand back, so I pulled mine back. He then laughed and wanted to shake hands again at which I said no. From then on I refused to shake his hand or even talk to him. He finally left and the girl asked if there was a problem. After a bit of a conversation with her she realized I wasn’t French and asked if that’s my custom to not shake hands with people I don’t know in England. Not wanting to give false information out about the U.S. and not really caring what kind of information I give out about England I simply answered, “it depends on the situation.” I spoke to her in French for the rest of the train ride and she was very pleased to see an American (she finally find out I was actually American and not British) making an effort to speak French as she told me just 10 days before she was quite annoyed at meeting an American who didn’t make an effort at all to speak the language and had a really negative image of Americans. She said I proved her wrong and she was very happy to see that not all Americans try to speak English with everyone. So I was then myself very pleased that I had helped to change at least one person’s mind about Americans. However only 3 minutes later I would apparently commit the ultimate insult to the French and undo all positive work I had just done.
The dirty, drunk man returned just as we were pulling up to our final stop and we all moved to the doors to exit the train. In doing this the girl tells the guy that I am American and that’s why I was acting the way I was. He then says “oh well then we should do a bisous bisous” (bisous = the French kiss on the check). Well obviously since I didn’t even want to shake his hand I really didn’t want to do the bisous bisous, not to mention I hate doing it with people I know. So I said no that I wasn’t going to do it, and quickly discovered this to be possibly the biggest insult you can give to a French person. He then would no longer look at me, and went off on how Americans are something (don’t know the translation of the word, but could tell it wasn’t flattering). The girl tried explaining to him that it’s not my culture to do the bisous bisous and that only encouraged his bashing of Americans. He then had to go on saying that if he tried to give a bisous bisous to the woman standing there that he didn’t know that she would do it. But personally, given the look she gave him when he said that, I’d guess she wouldn’t do the bisous bisous either. So there I was standing amongst about 8 French people who all knew I was American and wouldn’t do the bisous bisous and listening to the man bash the American. Odd situation that helped finalize my decision to take a cab to my hostel instead of making the 30 minute walk since it was 11 p.m. and I was alone and there was at least one crazy French guy now in the town that wasn’t too happy with me. So I hopped in the cab and got to the hostel in a matter of minutes.
Unfortunately the hostel had lost my reservation but thankfully the guy was super nice and found me a bed in the hostel and they worked things out even though they were pretty darn booked. It was a great hostel, probably the best I’ve ever stayed at, not to mention the cheapest.
The next morning I woke up, got ready and hopped on the one and only bus going to Mont St. Michel (the reason I went up there). Mont St. Michel is an Abbey built on a large rock that when the tide is out is accessible by land, but when the tide is in becomes an island and is no longer accessible by land. This is a place I’ve wanted to visit since I started taking French lessons so I was very happy to have finally made it. It was a neat little area as there is a small street of restaurants and shops that make a spiral up to the Abbey. Also interesting was how drastic the tide is. If I remember correctly the tide goes out about 9 Km (approx 5.5 miles). That’s a pretty darn big tide I think.
After spending the day there I took the one bus to get back to St. Malo and arrived in the early evening. I had to change hostel rooms so I did that, freshened up a bit and of course headed out again. This time I wanted to see St. Malo since I was there. St. Malo is a beach town in the Brittany region (northwest) of France. It’s a walled town and so I walked down to the walled part and found all sorts of shops and restaurants within the walls. I walked along the beach/wall (which lines the beach) and really enjoyed being back near a beach. I absolutely loved this city. It was great seeing such large stretches of sandy beaches too. If you think the beaches in LA or Padre are large and flat you have got to see these beaches; the sand probably stretched for at least a mile before the water depending on the time. The houses and beach part of the city itself reminded me more of what I think of when I think of the east coast in the U.S. then what I would ever think of for France so it was quite surprising for me to see houses done in more of a Victorian style than any kind of French style. I walked around, took in the sites, had a late dinner and then returned to the hostel.
The next morning I woke up and immediately headed out to the beach. Since it was a smaller town as far as monuments went it could offer a cathedral and a chateau; having had my fill of both after having lived and traveled in Europe for a year I decided I’d rather sit on the beach all day. I stayed there as long as I could and couldn’t have been happier. I had to finally force myself up and made my way to the train station where I headed back home to Paris.
It was a great weekend getting to see a part of France I had yet to see, however, a little odd being without my travel partner. After spending all that time alone I began to realize why bums talk to themselves, for after only one day alone I began to want to talk to myself just so I could talk.
We decided we would go and watch the fireworks off the Eiffel tower from the field just behind it. Thinking like Americans we figured we better get there super early so we could have great seats. However, what we forgot to take into account is the fact that the French do not like waiting or showing up for anything early. So Dave and Jen showed up very early in the day to hang out on the field and guard our spot and I showed up about 2 hours behind them after having decided to literally trek across all of Paris city center with my packed picnic bag on my shoulder. Why I decided to actually walk I’ll never know. In case anyone is wondering just how far it is, I seriously live about as far away from the Eiffel tower as you can while still being in Paris’ main city center. So even though I showed up 2 hours behind them, we all three could have showed up even later as I previously mentioned, the French do not show up early for anything. However, we were together on a beautiful day sitting in a perfect spot on the Champs de Mars behind the Eiffel tower with several bottles of wine, lots of bread, cheese, fruit, and other goodies so we were very content.
The night went on and eventually Scott (a Pepperdine MIB from the year before us who is still in France) and his French friend joined us and we continued to enjoy ourselves until the big fireworks show. At last around 10:40 or so, just after the sun set, the fireworks started. I have to say, I have always been upset I wasn’t able to see the big fireworks display they set off from the Eiffel tower for New Years Eve 1999/2000, but this was a definite substitute as it was amazing. It was a beautiful display of fireworks off of a wonderful monument and I have never felt so lucky to have been in Paris as I did that night. I only wish everyone could have been there with me.
Once the fireworks were over we hung around a while until the crowd died and then made our way home as Jen and I both had early morning trains (to separate locals). I was set to catch the 7 a.m. train to Bayeux so that I would have time to see the Bayeux Tapestry before my 1 p.m. tour of the D Day beaches. However, I woke up at 7 a.m. despite having set my alarm for 5 a.m. I quickly checked the next train time, got ready and ran off the station. Managed to catch the next train at 8:40 and was on my way to Bayeux. However, I didn’t have enough time to see the tapestry so I just walked around the town and had lunch and then met up with my tour group/guide. Bayeux is a small town in Normandy (northern France) that is not too far from the Normandy landing beaches of WWII, thus making it a popular departure point for several D Day beach tours, which is why I chose to go there in the first place. I met my tour group and we hopped in the van and off we went. Our first stop was the American cemetery. A lovely cemetery right on the cliff of one of the beaches where American soldiers landed during WWII and it is actually now considered American territory. So technically for the 40 minutes I spent there I was back in the U.S! We then drove along the coast and visited both the Omaha and Utah beaches and the Omaha beach museum. We made our way to Point du Hoc where you can still see the German bunkers and can truly picture what it must have been like as they have let this beach/cliff stay the way it was instead of trying to forget it all and bring it back to normal. We also visited St. Mere Eglise where the parachutist got stuck on the roof of the church and stayed there amongst the fighting for the day. After 5 hours of visiting the various American D Day spots we made our way back to Bayeux and ended the tour. I walked around the town some, very cute town, and then hopped on a train to St. Malo.
On the last leg of the trip to St. Malo I was sitting in a smaller compartment of the train with only a few other people in that area. Upon entering the train a man who seemed a little dirty, had his shirt open and was asking for money was standing in the entrance to the train but I had walked passed him and taken my seat. Thankfully he had gone to the main train compartment and I was there in my smaller compartment quite content. There was another girl across from me about the same age as me so I felt fine. Unfortunately the man came back and as it turned out he was with the girl across from me. And of course since I was girl traveling alone I was susceptible to him bothering me and naturally he did. He started off saying “bonsoir Madame”, but Madame typically being reserved for older women or married women, the girl he was with corrected him and told him to say Mademoiselle. This then started a conversation of asking if I was married or engaged or how old I was. He then of course had to come over and say he was sorry and wanted to say Bonsoir Mademoiselle and shake my hand. He was obviously drunk as just minutes before he was sticking his head out the window and walking all over the train seats and arm rests and as previously mentioned he seemed a little dirty to me, so I of course was not too excited about shaking his hand. I decided to suck it up hoping it would end the conversation and went to shake his hand but then he pulled his hand back, so I pulled mine back. He then laughed and wanted to shake hands again at which I said no. From then on I refused to shake his hand or even talk to him. He finally left and the girl asked if there was a problem. After a bit of a conversation with her she realized I wasn’t French and asked if that’s my custom to not shake hands with people I don’t know in England. Not wanting to give false information out about the U.S. and not really caring what kind of information I give out about England I simply answered, “it depends on the situation.” I spoke to her in French for the rest of the train ride and she was very pleased to see an American (she finally find out I was actually American and not British) making an effort to speak French as she told me just 10 days before she was quite annoyed at meeting an American who didn’t make an effort at all to speak the language and had a really negative image of Americans. She said I proved her wrong and she was very happy to see that not all Americans try to speak English with everyone. So I was then myself very pleased that I had helped to change at least one person’s mind about Americans. However only 3 minutes later I would apparently commit the ultimate insult to the French and undo all positive work I had just done.
The dirty, drunk man returned just as we were pulling up to our final stop and we all moved to the doors to exit the train. In doing this the girl tells the guy that I am American and that’s why I was acting the way I was. He then says “oh well then we should do a bisous bisous” (bisous = the French kiss on the check). Well obviously since I didn’t even want to shake his hand I really didn’t want to do the bisous bisous, not to mention I hate doing it with people I know. So I said no that I wasn’t going to do it, and quickly discovered this to be possibly the biggest insult you can give to a French person. He then would no longer look at me, and went off on how Americans are something (don’t know the translation of the word, but could tell it wasn’t flattering). The girl tried explaining to him that it’s not my culture to do the bisous bisous and that only encouraged his bashing of Americans. He then had to go on saying that if he tried to give a bisous bisous to the woman standing there that he didn’t know that she would do it. But personally, given the look she gave him when he said that, I’d guess she wouldn’t do the bisous bisous either. So there I was standing amongst about 8 French people who all knew I was American and wouldn’t do the bisous bisous and listening to the man bash the American. Odd situation that helped finalize my decision to take a cab to my hostel instead of making the 30 minute walk since it was 11 p.m. and I was alone and there was at least one crazy French guy now in the town that wasn’t too happy with me. So I hopped in the cab and got to the hostel in a matter of minutes.
Unfortunately the hostel had lost my reservation but thankfully the guy was super nice and found me a bed in the hostel and they worked things out even though they were pretty darn booked. It was a great hostel, probably the best I’ve ever stayed at, not to mention the cheapest.
The next morning I woke up, got ready and hopped on the one and only bus going to Mont St. Michel (the reason I went up there). Mont St. Michel is an Abbey built on a large rock that when the tide is out is accessible by land, but when the tide is in becomes an island and is no longer accessible by land. This is a place I’ve wanted to visit since I started taking French lessons so I was very happy to have finally made it. It was a neat little area as there is a small street of restaurants and shops that make a spiral up to the Abbey. Also interesting was how drastic the tide is. If I remember correctly the tide goes out about 9 Km (approx 5.5 miles). That’s a pretty darn big tide I think.
After spending the day there I took the one bus to get back to St. Malo and arrived in the early evening. I had to change hostel rooms so I did that, freshened up a bit and of course headed out again. This time I wanted to see St. Malo since I was there. St. Malo is a beach town in the Brittany region (northwest) of France. It’s a walled town and so I walked down to the walled part and found all sorts of shops and restaurants within the walls. I walked along the beach/wall (which lines the beach) and really enjoyed being back near a beach. I absolutely loved this city. It was great seeing such large stretches of sandy beaches too. If you think the beaches in LA or Padre are large and flat you have got to see these beaches; the sand probably stretched for at least a mile before the water depending on the time. The houses and beach part of the city itself reminded me more of what I think of when I think of the east coast in the U.S. then what I would ever think of for France so it was quite surprising for me to see houses done in more of a Victorian style than any kind of French style. I walked around, took in the sites, had a late dinner and then returned to the hostel.
The next morning I woke up and immediately headed out to the beach. Since it was a smaller town as far as monuments went it could offer a cathedral and a chateau; having had my fill of both after having lived and traveled in Europe for a year I decided I’d rather sit on the beach all day. I stayed there as long as I could and couldn’t have been happier. I had to finally force myself up and made my way to the train station where I headed back home to Paris.
It was a great weekend getting to see a part of France I had yet to see, however, a little odd being without my travel partner. After spending all that time alone I began to realize why bums talk to themselves, for after only one day alone I began to want to talk to myself just so I could talk.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Look Kids Big Ben, Parliament (London Part 3 of 3)
So Sunday morning we woke up, quickly got ready, and set out on our day of sightseeing. We hopped on one of London’s famous red double decker buses, took in some of London’s traffic and made our way out to London tower. We spent the morning there taking in the various towers, Tower Bridge and of course visited the crown jewels. Once we were finished there we wondered down the street from which we came in the direction of St. Paul’s Cathedral. We stopped for lunch along the way and then completed our walk to St. Paul’s. We took in the beauty of the Church and even caught a cleaning man taking a nap on the backside of the Cathedral. Don’t worry we didn’t disturb his nap, but we did snap a picture of course.
After St. Paul’s we then crossed the Thames via the Millennium Bridge and took in the oddities of modern art at the Tate Modern. Neither one of us being big fans of modern art but merely being curious, we were able to go through the museum fairly quickly despite its enormous size. Being completely baffled and having had our fill of modern art we decided to head back to the hostel in order to freshen up before dinner.
With Danielle being a lover of Indian food and me only just starting to experience it we decided to have Indian food for dinner since we were in London after all and they’re supposed to have some darn good Indian food. We were wondering around in an area we were told had a good nightlife scene and restaurants when we happened to come upon the movie theater where earlier in the evening they had the premiere for Batman Begins. Unfortunately we had just missed the actors all leaving. Oh well I hate Katie Holmes now anyway, but Christian Bale would have been cool to see. Anyway, after asking a cop what was going on and then proceeding to ask him where we might find some good Indian food we were heading to dinner which was conveniently just around the corner.
We arrived to the restaurant which looked nice and we were placed in the back at a two person table. We ordered our food but unfortunately for us the only other table that was being occupied in our area was finished with their meal and left. Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but when the waiter has a mega crush on Danielle it becomes a big deal. Now with nothing else to do the waiter decides he is going to “join” us for dinner. He stands at the side of our table talking to Danielle for as long as he can. Danielle not being interested at all tries to keep the conversation to a minimum. However, the awkward silences apparently aren’t so awkward for him. He continues to stay only leaving for moments at a time to assist somewhere or to get us more water. Anytime he leaves he comes back with chocolates for Danielle, who had a bag full by the time we left. After our meal he offers to get Danielle a drink, who isn’t too keen on the idea in the first place. After insisting that she has a drink she finally chooses a drink and brings us each one. While we’re attempting to finish our drinks as quickly as possible he then informs Danielle that she is a “strong woman” and asks her to make a muscle and let him feel it. He then encourages her to feel his muscle. After this exchange he then offers to give her a massage right there in the restaurant at the table. At this point we begin downing our drinks as quickly as possible. Thankfully a few more people began entering the restaurant thus distracting him a bit. At last we were finally able to pay, in cash of course as we feared giving him any credit card information, and were able to flee from the crazy waiter. But despite the persistent waiter, the food was pretty darn good just as the cop said.
Since we weren’t able to go out on Saturday night after Guys and Dolls, we decided to see what London had to offer on a Sunday night. We had only just turned the corner when a bouncer called us over to his club and offered to let us in for half price. Sounded like a deal and since we were cold and not sure of where we were going to go anyway we decided to give it a try since it was cheap as well. Immediately upon entering the club the guys inside basically attacked as it seemed the club was severely lacking females, thus the reasoning behind the bouncer letting us in for half price. After prying the guys off of us we were able to make it to the bar where we could actually stand in peace and order a drink. However, as previously stated being female in that club we were a rare breed and therefore it wasn’t long that we were actually left alone. After spending around 2 hours fighting off the guys the club closed. It was still too early in our opinions so we wondered down the street some and came across a club that while no longer serving alcohol was still open and playing dance music. We entered in and danced the rest of the night, however not before we forced the DJ to play Jamilia’s Superstar for us “two corny girls”.
The next day we would be leaving at 5:43 and heading back to Paris. We got up what we thought was early enough and decided to walk to Buckingham to catch the changing of the guards. However, as usual the walk took longer than expected and we wound up running through the Buckingham Park to catch it on time. We missed a little bit in the beginning but I don’t think it mattered as to my surprise the thing lasted 30 mins! Once that was finally over we meandered over to Westminster Abbey, Big Ben and Parliament. There was an enormous line outside Westminster Abbey, not to mention you had to pay a hefty fee to get in, so we opted to pass on going inside on this trip. We took our pictures and walked around and then finally started heading back in the direction of our hostel. We made our way to Sloane Street, another VERY high end shopping street, and crossed over to Harrods. We spent quiet some time in Harrods and eventually went back to our hostel to pick up our luggage. We took the metro back to the train station and since we had some extra time decided to grab some food to get rid of our remaining pounds. We found a McDonalds but unfortunately didn’t calculate how many pounds we had left before ordering. Our order came out to be a little bit more than we had and they wouldn’t accept credit cards. We were able to return the bottle of water thus reducing our order a bit and actually putting us only a few cents away from the total. So after about a 10 minute discussion on what to do, they accepted the money we had and let us go on our way. I mean we couldn’t leave London without one more unusually situation happening now could we? With our pounds gone we ran onto the train, as we were actually running late after the McDonalds fiasco, and said our goodbyes to London.
We had a great trip filled with weird situations and weird people; we ourselves acted unusual thus leading me to believe there is something a little strange about London. Perhaps on my next trip I'll return with more money and I'll be able to actually afford it, although I'm not so sure I'll be wanting to "party party".
Below is a pic of Big Ben which I especially liked. I always seem to take too many pictures of the Eiffel tower and we realized that if I lived in London, Big Ben would be my Eiffel tower as I took probably 15 pictures of Big Ben while on our three day trip.
After St. Paul’s we then crossed the Thames via the Millennium Bridge and took in the oddities of modern art at the Tate Modern. Neither one of us being big fans of modern art but merely being curious, we were able to go through the museum fairly quickly despite its enormous size. Being completely baffled and having had our fill of modern art we decided to head back to the hostel in order to freshen up before dinner.
With Danielle being a lover of Indian food and me only just starting to experience it we decided to have Indian food for dinner since we were in London after all and they’re supposed to have some darn good Indian food. We were wondering around in an area we were told had a good nightlife scene and restaurants when we happened to come upon the movie theater where earlier in the evening they had the premiere for Batman Begins. Unfortunately we had just missed the actors all leaving. Oh well I hate Katie Holmes now anyway, but Christian Bale would have been cool to see. Anyway, after asking a cop what was going on and then proceeding to ask him where we might find some good Indian food we were heading to dinner which was conveniently just around the corner.
We arrived to the restaurant which looked nice and we were placed in the back at a two person table. We ordered our food but unfortunately for us the only other table that was being occupied in our area was finished with their meal and left. Normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but when the waiter has a mega crush on Danielle it becomes a big deal. Now with nothing else to do the waiter decides he is going to “join” us for dinner. He stands at the side of our table talking to Danielle for as long as he can. Danielle not being interested at all tries to keep the conversation to a minimum. However, the awkward silences apparently aren’t so awkward for him. He continues to stay only leaving for moments at a time to assist somewhere or to get us more water. Anytime he leaves he comes back with chocolates for Danielle, who had a bag full by the time we left. After our meal he offers to get Danielle a drink, who isn’t too keen on the idea in the first place. After insisting that she has a drink she finally chooses a drink and brings us each one. While we’re attempting to finish our drinks as quickly as possible he then informs Danielle that she is a “strong woman” and asks her to make a muscle and let him feel it. He then encourages her to feel his muscle. After this exchange he then offers to give her a massage right there in the restaurant at the table. At this point we begin downing our drinks as quickly as possible. Thankfully a few more people began entering the restaurant thus distracting him a bit. At last we were finally able to pay, in cash of course as we feared giving him any credit card information, and were able to flee from the crazy waiter. But despite the persistent waiter, the food was pretty darn good just as the cop said.
Since we weren’t able to go out on Saturday night after Guys and Dolls, we decided to see what London had to offer on a Sunday night. We had only just turned the corner when a bouncer called us over to his club and offered to let us in for half price. Sounded like a deal and since we were cold and not sure of where we were going to go anyway we decided to give it a try since it was cheap as well. Immediately upon entering the club the guys inside basically attacked as it seemed the club was severely lacking females, thus the reasoning behind the bouncer letting us in for half price. After prying the guys off of us we were able to make it to the bar where we could actually stand in peace and order a drink. However, as previously stated being female in that club we were a rare breed and therefore it wasn’t long that we were actually left alone. After spending around 2 hours fighting off the guys the club closed. It was still too early in our opinions so we wondered down the street some and came across a club that while no longer serving alcohol was still open and playing dance music. We entered in and danced the rest of the night, however not before we forced the DJ to play Jamilia’s Superstar for us “two corny girls”.
The next day we would be leaving at 5:43 and heading back to Paris. We got up what we thought was early enough and decided to walk to Buckingham to catch the changing of the guards. However, as usual the walk took longer than expected and we wound up running through the Buckingham Park to catch it on time. We missed a little bit in the beginning but I don’t think it mattered as to my surprise the thing lasted 30 mins! Once that was finally over we meandered over to Westminster Abbey, Big Ben and Parliament. There was an enormous line outside Westminster Abbey, not to mention you had to pay a hefty fee to get in, so we opted to pass on going inside on this trip. We took our pictures and walked around and then finally started heading back in the direction of our hostel. We made our way to Sloane Street, another VERY high end shopping street, and crossed over to Harrods. We spent quiet some time in Harrods and eventually went back to our hostel to pick up our luggage. We took the metro back to the train station and since we had some extra time decided to grab some food to get rid of our remaining pounds. We found a McDonalds but unfortunately didn’t calculate how many pounds we had left before ordering. Our order came out to be a little bit more than we had and they wouldn’t accept credit cards. We were able to return the bottle of water thus reducing our order a bit and actually putting us only a few cents away from the total. So after about a 10 minute discussion on what to do, they accepted the money we had and let us go on our way. I mean we couldn’t leave London without one more unusually situation happening now could we? With our pounds gone we ran onto the train, as we were actually running late after the McDonalds fiasco, and said our goodbyes to London.
We had a great trip filled with weird situations and weird people; we ourselves acted unusual thus leading me to believe there is something a little strange about London. Perhaps on my next trip I'll return with more money and I'll be able to actually afford it, although I'm not so sure I'll be wanting to "party party".
Below is a pic of Big Ben which I especially liked. I always seem to take too many pictures of the Eiffel tower and we realized that if I lived in London, Big Ben would be my Eiffel tower as I took probably 15 pictures of Big Ben while on our three day trip.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
It’s Guys and Dolls, Jerry, Not Guys and Guys! (London Part 2 of 3)
Saturday morning came too quickly for my taste and being woken up by the other girls in the room showering wasn’t a pleasant wake up for me either. But nonetheless I was happy to be there and not at either of the two guys apartments who offered to let us stay at their places for the weekend. Danielle and I waited our turn for the shower and eventually got in and got ready. We went downstairs to pay for our two remaining nights in the hostel since Raj the night before had decided for us to cancel our reservations for those two nights. After settling that, we headed out for Kensington Palace which was a fairly short walk from our hostel; this time it was in fact a short walk. We visited the palace, which was the last residence of Princess Diana, saw several of her dresses, and finally exited into the gardens where we roamed around for a while. We went and visited the Princess Diana memorial fountain and then set out to find a place to eat lunch. Of course finding a place to eat while on our trips is never an easy task. We found ourselves in a residential area and then found ourselves on the new Bond street, a VERY high end shopping street. Fortunately we managed to get to the shopping street that was a little more in our price range and found a line of pubs near by. Naturally being in London we had to eat at a pub and try the fish and chips. However I don’t eat fish so it was up to Danielle to take care of that while I enjoyed a fantastic hamburger cooked all the way through; quite a change from the ones I find in France, if I can find a hamburger.
After lunch our plan was to head to Piccadilly Circus to find out about possibly getting tickets to a show for the time that we would be there and then to head to St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Tate Modern. However, on our way to Piccadilly Circus we got sucked into a giant toy store on the corner and wound up spending way too much time in there. But hey sometimes you have to embrace that inner child. So once we managed to pull ourselves away from the mounds of stuffed animals we made our way to Piccadilly Circus and found the half price ticket booth. We asked about tickets to Guys and Dolls which was the one we wanted to see the most as it is supposed to be a great show and as a bonus stars Ewan McGregor. The guy at the ticket booth informed us that we didn’t have a chance at getting tickets to that show and also let us know that there were no Sunday matinees for any shows which is what we had hoped to see. So it looked like our one chance to see a show would be that night, however, our selection would be limited. Not wanting to spend the money on a show we weren’t too keen on seeing anyway and also not quite ready to give up on Guys and Dolls, we decided to leave that booth and go to another one which we had seen. We got the same story from that guy but he did let us know that perhaps if we went to the theater we might be able to get last minute tickets for Chicago but didn’t have a chance for Guys and Dolls. So we decided to head out to the theater for Chicago but not before stopping at the Guys and Dolls theater. We found the theater and happened to notice a line formed along the side behind a sign that read “Return tickets”. We weren’t completely positive of what that meant but the line wasn’t too long so naturally we just hopped in the line and decided to figure out what it was after getting in line.
Fortunately there were two gay London guys in front of us who were nice enough to explain that the line was for the tickets that people return the day of the show. Basically you wait in line for people to return their tickets and the returned tickets are offered to the first people in line who are willing to pay whatever amount the tickets are for. So the tickets that you get offered, if they make it to your part of the line, could be in any price range. Sounded exciting to me and according to the “Doll”, as he chose to refer to himself, in front of us we had a pretty good chance of getting tickets since the line wasn’t that long. So our plan for seeing St. Paul’s was put on hold while we decided to test out the line and press our luck at getting tickets. We waited around for a while and slowly people would get bored of waiting or tickets were offered and the line got shorter and shorter. The whole process of waiting in the line became much more amusing as the time passed. We began making friends with the people in the line who were oddly enough mostly Americans. Then the real fun started once the guy in the pink tie started coming out with the ticket offers. I felt like I was in an auction and became very excited and hyper everytime he came out. What price tickets would he have, how many tickets would he have, would the people in front of us want them???? Once this started Danielle and I knew we needed to have a limit as to how much we were willing to spend. We decided on our limit and eagerly waited our turn to decide on if we would take the tickets or not. Slowly the people in front of us got ticket offers and took them. There were three more people in front of us and the man in the pink tie came back out. He bypassed the 3 people in front of us since he knew what they wanted and apparently that wasn’t what he had to offer. That meant he came straight to Danielle and I with the ticket offer. Seemingly prepared since we had set our limit, we were surprisingly taken off guard when he came to us with a ticket offer. The two of us completely panicked and suddenly couldn’t make a decision since the offer was ₤15 over our limit yet we really really wanted to see the show. We looked at each other in confusion and each tried passing the decision making responsibility off to the other. During this time everyone behind us was encouraging us to take the tickets and shouting that if we didn’t they would. We knew we didn’t want to spend that much money but at the same time, if we passed up these tickets there was a good chance we wouldn’t be offered any others. After going through several exchanges such as “I’ll do whatever you wanna do” and “I don’t care, you make the decision” we decided that it would be foolish to pass up the tickets since we had already put in an hours worth of waiting in line. Our giggles returned at this point and we managed to get a “yes we’ll take the tickets” out in between giggling. We went inside, purchased our tickets, said good bye to our line friends, and skipped away with two tickets to Guys and Dolls in our purses.
Since we had waited in line for about an hour and the show was due to start in about an hour and a half and now that we had no more money we decided it’d be best to start being cheap and just walked around the city center a bit till the show started. We got in our seats, which were pretty good seats, and were pleased to see at least 4 other people who were in line behind us sitting near by us. The show was great, not quite as good as we expected, but good nonetheless. After the show we went to the side of the theater where everyone would gather up and wait for the cast to exit. We only waited a few minutes and then Ewan came out to sign autographs. We didn’t want to wait in line so we just took pictures of him from across the street. But then we noticed the line was moving rather quickly so we jumped in line and within minutes we were face to face with Ewan and each got him to sign our hard earned tickets.
Once this was over we were broke, tired, and felt we had had enough of an adventure for the day and decided to go back to the hostel so we could get some decent sleep. We planned out our next two days before going to bed, however the events that took place the next evening were not on that list.
….to be continued
After lunch our plan was to head to Piccadilly Circus to find out about possibly getting tickets to a show for the time that we would be there and then to head to St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Tate Modern. However, on our way to Piccadilly Circus we got sucked into a giant toy store on the corner and wound up spending way too much time in there. But hey sometimes you have to embrace that inner child. So once we managed to pull ourselves away from the mounds of stuffed animals we made our way to Piccadilly Circus and found the half price ticket booth. We asked about tickets to Guys and Dolls which was the one we wanted to see the most as it is supposed to be a great show and as a bonus stars Ewan McGregor. The guy at the ticket booth informed us that we didn’t have a chance at getting tickets to that show and also let us know that there were no Sunday matinees for any shows which is what we had hoped to see. So it looked like our one chance to see a show would be that night, however, our selection would be limited. Not wanting to spend the money on a show we weren’t too keen on seeing anyway and also not quite ready to give up on Guys and Dolls, we decided to leave that booth and go to another one which we had seen. We got the same story from that guy but he did let us know that perhaps if we went to the theater we might be able to get last minute tickets for Chicago but didn’t have a chance for Guys and Dolls. So we decided to head out to the theater for Chicago but not before stopping at the Guys and Dolls theater. We found the theater and happened to notice a line formed along the side behind a sign that read “Return tickets”. We weren’t completely positive of what that meant but the line wasn’t too long so naturally we just hopped in the line and decided to figure out what it was after getting in line.
Fortunately there were two gay London guys in front of us who were nice enough to explain that the line was for the tickets that people return the day of the show. Basically you wait in line for people to return their tickets and the returned tickets are offered to the first people in line who are willing to pay whatever amount the tickets are for. So the tickets that you get offered, if they make it to your part of the line, could be in any price range. Sounded exciting to me and according to the “Doll”, as he chose to refer to himself, in front of us we had a pretty good chance of getting tickets since the line wasn’t that long. So our plan for seeing St. Paul’s was put on hold while we decided to test out the line and press our luck at getting tickets. We waited around for a while and slowly people would get bored of waiting or tickets were offered and the line got shorter and shorter. The whole process of waiting in the line became much more amusing as the time passed. We began making friends with the people in the line who were oddly enough mostly Americans. Then the real fun started once the guy in the pink tie started coming out with the ticket offers. I felt like I was in an auction and became very excited and hyper everytime he came out. What price tickets would he have, how many tickets would he have, would the people in front of us want them???? Once this started Danielle and I knew we needed to have a limit as to how much we were willing to spend. We decided on our limit and eagerly waited our turn to decide on if we would take the tickets or not. Slowly the people in front of us got ticket offers and took them. There were three more people in front of us and the man in the pink tie came back out. He bypassed the 3 people in front of us since he knew what they wanted and apparently that wasn’t what he had to offer. That meant he came straight to Danielle and I with the ticket offer. Seemingly prepared since we had set our limit, we were surprisingly taken off guard when he came to us with a ticket offer. The two of us completely panicked and suddenly couldn’t make a decision since the offer was ₤15 over our limit yet we really really wanted to see the show. We looked at each other in confusion and each tried passing the decision making responsibility off to the other. During this time everyone behind us was encouraging us to take the tickets and shouting that if we didn’t they would. We knew we didn’t want to spend that much money but at the same time, if we passed up these tickets there was a good chance we wouldn’t be offered any others. After going through several exchanges such as “I’ll do whatever you wanna do” and “I don’t care, you make the decision” we decided that it would be foolish to pass up the tickets since we had already put in an hours worth of waiting in line. Our giggles returned at this point and we managed to get a “yes we’ll take the tickets” out in between giggling. We went inside, purchased our tickets, said good bye to our line friends, and skipped away with two tickets to Guys and Dolls in our purses.
Since we had waited in line for about an hour and the show was due to start in about an hour and a half and now that we had no more money we decided it’d be best to start being cheap and just walked around the city center a bit till the show started. We got in our seats, which were pretty good seats, and were pleased to see at least 4 other people who were in line behind us sitting near by us. The show was great, not quite as good as we expected, but good nonetheless. After the show we went to the side of the theater where everyone would gather up and wait for the cast to exit. We only waited a few minutes and then Ewan came out to sign autographs. We didn’t want to wait in line so we just took pictures of him from across the street. But then we noticed the line was moving rather quickly so we jumped in line and within minutes we were face to face with Ewan and each got him to sign our hard earned tickets.
Once this was over we were broke, tired, and felt we had had enough of an adventure for the day and decided to go back to the hostel so we could get some decent sleep. We planned out our next two days before going to bed, however the events that took place the next evening were not on that list.
….to be continued
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Who likes to “Party Party”? (London Part 1 of 3)
So back in April a crazy ad for the Eurostar did its job in convincing Danielle and I that we should in fact jump on a train and head to London for a weekend. We chose a random date and purchased our tickets and didn’t think much more about the trip until about the day or two before we were set to leave. I mean it’s London, they speak English there, we just recently went on a whirlwind trip to Budapest, Vienna, and Prague; London should be a breeze right? At least that’s what we thought before we crossed the English Channel and started our weekend filled with “interesting” people.
We took off work a little early on Friday and hopped on the train that would take us to London via the depths of the English Channel. For some reason ever since I found out about the Chunnel, way back in High School, I have been dying to take it. So for me this was a very exciting train ride and I couldn’t wait to go into the Chunnel. Danielle couldn’t have cared less and probably got a little annoyed/concerned about how excited I would get each time we entered a tunnel thinking this one was the Chunnel. After a while and many false alarms, we finally did enter the Chunnel. But now what to do, no scenery and too tired to read but not tired enough to sleep? Naturally that signaled picture time for Danielle and I. We some how managed to amuse ourselves for almost the entire 20 mins that we were in the tunnel by taking pics of ourselves in the reflection of the window. I think it was at this point that our giddiness started. For from this point on we seemed any and everything made us giggle.
We arrived in London around 7:30 p.m. and in trying to decide how to get to the hostel we witnessed an unexpected role reversal. This time it was Danielle who was suggesting taking the metro to the hostel while I was the one saying “why don’t we just walk it, I don’t think it’s that far.” Unfortunately we went with my idea and after an hour and a half walk and a 4 block cab ride and we were finally at the hostel. Why the 4 block cab ride one might ask. Well before leaving Danielle had been in contact with a Pepperdine Alumni, Raj, and it was arranged that we were to meet up with him upon our arrival. After calling him when we thought we were close to our hostel he came out to meet us at the closest metro stop. Timing was perfect and we met him right at the corner, unfortunately we still hadn’t reached our hostel. Since he didn’t really feel like walking and probably thought we were absolutely incompetent since we appeared to not know what we were doing, he had us get in a cab even though we were only 4 blocks away. So alas we made it to the hostel and went to check in. It was at this moment that our trip took a drastic turn and our adventure in London officially started. While checking in Raj decides, for some unknown reason, that he wants to step in and “negotiate” our hostel room. Danielle and I still aren’t really sure what exactly happened there, as we both sort of stood in shock watching him attack the desk clerk, but we some how ended up with a room reserved for one night only even though we had reservations for 3 nights (Raj of course offered to let us stay at his place which we didn’t have much interest in doing after what we just witnessed). Once this was all settled, we took our stuff up to the room and Raj waited for us downstairs so we could freshen up before he would show us some London nightlife. During this time Danielle and I quickly got ready while also expressing our complete bewilderment with what had just happened. We quickly realized we were in for quite an unusual night.
We freshened up, changed, hurried downstairs and met Raj and the three of us quickly hopped in a cab and headed off for our first destination of the night; a club called Eclipse that was in typical posh club style with no sign out front. The three of us entered the club but Raj quickly turned around and went back outside leaving Danielle and myself inside not quite sure what to do. Not being strangers to bars/clubs you would think Danielle and I would have been just fine, but for some odd reason we felt socially inept and felt as though we belonged in a Bridget Jones movie/book. This feeling would continue for the rest of the night; it’s really a shame no one was filming us, we could have been the next Bridget Jones’. Once Raj came back into the bar we met up with two of his friends, two girls. Slowly more of his friends came and after having drink after drink bought for us everyone decided to move on to a new club. However, one girl actually didn’t want to leave so her friend, the other girl, decided to stay with her and before we knew it Danielle and I were in a cab with 3 guys and being lead to the next bar, Cocoon. While in the cab Danielle was propositioned to “party party” with our unusual host Raj. It seems our new “friend” wanted to know if we did cocaine and just couldn’t except the fact that we didn’t or had never tried it; kind of unusual coming from a 34 year old Pepperdine alumnus. But he eventually moved on and we arrived at our destination where we were again lead into the bar, bought drinks, and then quickly lead out again to go to yet another destination. During this leg of our tour of London night clubs I was the fortunate one approached by Raj about my “party” habits. The rest of the night continued in this sort of fashion with clubs, drinks, and cabs and finally ended with us making it back to our hostel where we of course discussed the bizarre whirlwind of a night we just went through. Vowing that we didn’t want to see Raj for the rest of the trip we went to bed but had no idea what the rest of the trip had in store for us.
…to be continued
We took off work a little early on Friday and hopped on the train that would take us to London via the depths of the English Channel. For some reason ever since I found out about the Chunnel, way back in High School, I have been dying to take it. So for me this was a very exciting train ride and I couldn’t wait to go into the Chunnel. Danielle couldn’t have cared less and probably got a little annoyed/concerned about how excited I would get each time we entered a tunnel thinking this one was the Chunnel. After a while and many false alarms, we finally did enter the Chunnel. But now what to do, no scenery and too tired to read but not tired enough to sleep? Naturally that signaled picture time for Danielle and I. We some how managed to amuse ourselves for almost the entire 20 mins that we were in the tunnel by taking pics of ourselves in the reflection of the window. I think it was at this point that our giddiness started. For from this point on we seemed any and everything made us giggle.
We arrived in London around 7:30 p.m. and in trying to decide how to get to the hostel we witnessed an unexpected role reversal. This time it was Danielle who was suggesting taking the metro to the hostel while I was the one saying “why don’t we just walk it, I don’t think it’s that far.” Unfortunately we went with my idea and after an hour and a half walk and a 4 block cab ride and we were finally at the hostel. Why the 4 block cab ride one might ask. Well before leaving Danielle had been in contact with a Pepperdine Alumni, Raj, and it was arranged that we were to meet up with him upon our arrival. After calling him when we thought we were close to our hostel he came out to meet us at the closest metro stop. Timing was perfect and we met him right at the corner, unfortunately we still hadn’t reached our hostel. Since he didn’t really feel like walking and probably thought we were absolutely incompetent since we appeared to not know what we were doing, he had us get in a cab even though we were only 4 blocks away. So alas we made it to the hostel and went to check in. It was at this moment that our trip took a drastic turn and our adventure in London officially started. While checking in Raj decides, for some unknown reason, that he wants to step in and “negotiate” our hostel room. Danielle and I still aren’t really sure what exactly happened there, as we both sort of stood in shock watching him attack the desk clerk, but we some how ended up with a room reserved for one night only even though we had reservations for 3 nights (Raj of course offered to let us stay at his place which we didn’t have much interest in doing after what we just witnessed). Once this was all settled, we took our stuff up to the room and Raj waited for us downstairs so we could freshen up before he would show us some London nightlife. During this time Danielle and I quickly got ready while also expressing our complete bewilderment with what had just happened. We quickly realized we were in for quite an unusual night.
We freshened up, changed, hurried downstairs and met Raj and the three of us quickly hopped in a cab and headed off for our first destination of the night; a club called Eclipse that was in typical posh club style with no sign out front. The three of us entered the club but Raj quickly turned around and went back outside leaving Danielle and myself inside not quite sure what to do. Not being strangers to bars/clubs you would think Danielle and I would have been just fine, but for some odd reason we felt socially inept and felt as though we belonged in a Bridget Jones movie/book. This feeling would continue for the rest of the night; it’s really a shame no one was filming us, we could have been the next Bridget Jones’. Once Raj came back into the bar we met up with two of his friends, two girls. Slowly more of his friends came and after having drink after drink bought for us everyone decided to move on to a new club. However, one girl actually didn’t want to leave so her friend, the other girl, decided to stay with her and before we knew it Danielle and I were in a cab with 3 guys and being lead to the next bar, Cocoon. While in the cab Danielle was propositioned to “party party” with our unusual host Raj. It seems our new “friend” wanted to know if we did cocaine and just couldn’t except the fact that we didn’t or had never tried it; kind of unusual coming from a 34 year old Pepperdine alumnus. But he eventually moved on and we arrived at our destination where we were again lead into the bar, bought drinks, and then quickly lead out again to go to yet another destination. During this leg of our tour of London night clubs I was the fortunate one approached by Raj about my “party” habits. The rest of the night continued in this sort of fashion with clubs, drinks, and cabs and finally ended with us making it back to our hostel where we of course discussed the bizarre whirlwind of a night we just went through. Vowing that we didn’t want to see Raj for the rest of the trip we went to bed but had no idea what the rest of the trip had in store for us.
…to be continued
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Brussels in a Chocolate Covered Beer Filled Nutshell
So back in May my dad and Geneva came out to Paris to visit yours truly. Since they had previously vacation for a week in Paris we decided to skip town for the weekend of May 27-29 and head out to Brussels to indulge ourselves in chocolate, waffles and in my case beer as well. I took a half day of work on Friday and we jumped on the Thalys train from Paris to Brussels, which thanks to Central Europe’s fantastic rail system is only 1 hour and 25 mins away. We arrived to our hotel, yes this time I would be staying in a nice hotel in my own room and not a hostel with 7 other people in my room, got settled and set out to see what Brussels had to offer.
We walked down to the Grande Place, which is a big square in the center of the city with some beautiful buildings surrounding it and filled with lots of nice patios to sit on and have a beer or two. We strolled through the streets browsing through the chocolate shops and admiring the architecture. We eventually made our way to Mannekin Pis, the little statue of the boy peeing. Slightly disappointing as he’s very tiny, but I guess I should expect much from a statue of a boy peeing and honestly I don’t know that I would want it to be any larger. After walking around for a while and getting a fill for the city center we went and had dinner. I of course had to get the fries and of course had to have a Belgian beer. The beer, as expected, was fantastic. After dinner we retreated to the hotel but not before trying a Belgian waffle of course. Again, fantastic. While it was a good start to Brussels unfortunately since Nick, who was supposed to come along with us, was unable to make the trip at the last minute I would be left alone come night fall. Normally no big deal, but this meant I would have no one to go out and enjoy more Belgian beer with. Not wanting to go alone and actually being too exhausted to even consider it, I decided to go ahead and call it an early night since it had been about a month since I had even a decent nights sleep.
The next day we got up and hurried out to a chocolate factory where we were told we could join a group for a tour of the factory. While the tour would be in Flemish, they told us we could join nonetheless and that they would do English for us as well. However, once we got there, the woman who appeared to be the organizer of the group that would be taking the tour did not like the idea that the factory said we could join their tour and she refused to let us trail behind her group. A rather rude woman I must add. So we left so as not to cause her too much strife and headed back to the touristy areas in town. We decided the best way to see the city would be to take the bus tour, so that’s what we did. While it was a great trip around the city and an easy way to see everything, I couldn’t help but be a little upset that my pictures weren’t coming out as nicely as they would have had I been walking around like I normally do. However, my feet were very thankful that I was not forcing them to carry me all over the city as I normally do for my trips. After the bus tour we decided to go see the comic museum since Belgium is known for their comic strips. Belgians are actually responsible for the Smurfs as I recently found out. Not a very impressive museum from my perspective but then again I’ve never been too fond of comic strips. Yet it’s still something one should probably see when in Belgium since it is such a big aspect of their culture.
The next day we weren’t set to leave till later in the afternoon, so we walked around some more enjoying the park out front of the palace, buying more chocolate, and of course having one last waffle and beer. We eventually boarded the train late afternoon and made our way back to Paris where we were welcomed with the cold and rain which was quite a contrast to the sunny and warm Brussels we had just left. But yet it still felt good to be what has now come to feel like my home.
All in all I really enjoyed Brussels as a weekend destination. I wouldn’t recommend staying in the city for longer than a day or two but it’s definitely worth a visit. I definitely want to go back to Belgium, but next time want to visit other cities such as Bruges as it seems it’s much more scenic where Brussels is a very functional city. I do have to reiterate though that the waffles, chocolate and beer were fantastic. I know the fries are supposed to be good too, I just didn’t actually have any good ones, but I can definitely vouch for the other three. So one word of advice, before going to Belgium make sure you diet a little first so as to make room for the overindulgence of beer, chocolate and waffles.
We walked down to the Grande Place, which is a big square in the center of the city with some beautiful buildings surrounding it and filled with lots of nice patios to sit on and have a beer or two. We strolled through the streets browsing through the chocolate shops and admiring the architecture. We eventually made our way to Mannekin Pis, the little statue of the boy peeing. Slightly disappointing as he’s very tiny, but I guess I should expect much from a statue of a boy peeing and honestly I don’t know that I would want it to be any larger. After walking around for a while and getting a fill for the city center we went and had dinner. I of course had to get the fries and of course had to have a Belgian beer. The beer, as expected, was fantastic. After dinner we retreated to the hotel but not before trying a Belgian waffle of course. Again, fantastic. While it was a good start to Brussels unfortunately since Nick, who was supposed to come along with us, was unable to make the trip at the last minute I would be left alone come night fall. Normally no big deal, but this meant I would have no one to go out and enjoy more Belgian beer with. Not wanting to go alone and actually being too exhausted to even consider it, I decided to go ahead and call it an early night since it had been about a month since I had even a decent nights sleep.
The next day we got up and hurried out to a chocolate factory where we were told we could join a group for a tour of the factory. While the tour would be in Flemish, they told us we could join nonetheless and that they would do English for us as well. However, once we got there, the woman who appeared to be the organizer of the group that would be taking the tour did not like the idea that the factory said we could join their tour and she refused to let us trail behind her group. A rather rude woman I must add. So we left so as not to cause her too much strife and headed back to the touristy areas in town. We decided the best way to see the city would be to take the bus tour, so that’s what we did. While it was a great trip around the city and an easy way to see everything, I couldn’t help but be a little upset that my pictures weren’t coming out as nicely as they would have had I been walking around like I normally do. However, my feet were very thankful that I was not forcing them to carry me all over the city as I normally do for my trips. After the bus tour we decided to go see the comic museum since Belgium is known for their comic strips. Belgians are actually responsible for the Smurfs as I recently found out. Not a very impressive museum from my perspective but then again I’ve never been too fond of comic strips. Yet it’s still something one should probably see when in Belgium since it is such a big aspect of their culture.
The next day we weren’t set to leave till later in the afternoon, so we walked around some more enjoying the park out front of the palace, buying more chocolate, and of course having one last waffle and beer. We eventually boarded the train late afternoon and made our way back to Paris where we were welcomed with the cold and rain which was quite a contrast to the sunny and warm Brussels we had just left. But yet it still felt good to be what has now come to feel like my home.
All in all I really enjoyed Brussels as a weekend destination. I wouldn’t recommend staying in the city for longer than a day or two but it’s definitely worth a visit. I definitely want to go back to Belgium, but next time want to visit other cities such as Bruges as it seems it’s much more scenic where Brussels is a very functional city. I do have to reiterate though that the waffles, chocolate and beer were fantastic. I know the fries are supposed to be good too, I just didn’t actually have any good ones, but I can definitely vouch for the other three. So one word of advice, before going to Belgium make sure you diet a little first so as to make room for the overindulgence of beer, chocolate and waffles.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Barcelona round two
So on May 13 Lori decided to conquer her fear of flying and boarded a plane all by herself and made the flight across the Atlantic Ocean to come see me! She arrived on that Saturday and from that point on I didn’t give her a minute to rest. I took her on a walk through the city shortly after her arrival and tried to take her out that night but instead went to a long dinner and trekked across the city only to arrive at our destination club and decide we should go home and get some sleep instead of going in. Why get some sleep instead of going in you ask? Well the next morning Lori and I got up super early and crossed town to the shuttle to take us to Beauvais airport, “Paris’ low cost airport”, so we could board our plane to Barcelona. This would be my second time in Barcelona as I went out there in October to visit Sotiris, a friend from Pepperdine studying aboard there, however, it would be the first time for Lori. We got a hostel right on the beach which turned out to be a great location but the hostel was only so so. When we arrived we were pleased to find excellent weather, perfect for a day at the beach. Thankfully since we had taken such an early morning flight, 9 a.m., once we arrived and took another hour shuttle ride into the city we still had plenty of daytime left. We settled into the hostel, ate lunch then hit the beach. As mentioned before I had been to Barcelona back in October, and while I had a blast and definitely rank it among my best vacations in Europe so far, I didn’t have the chance or the weather to enjoy its beaches. So this time I was super excited to be able to soak up the sun on its beaches and escape the chilly Parisian weather.
After enjoying our time on the beach we decided to clean up and walk around the city some. We strolled Las Ramblas like typical tourists and ate a very late dinner like typical Spaniards. Being too tired to do much else we called it a night after dinner and returned to the hostel. This is where we decided the hostel was only so so. Seeing that the walls didn’t go all the way to the ceiling, leaving enormous gaps, the hostel was extremely loud. Come that morning we could hear everything happening within the hostel. Even still, due to our crazy German roommate who apparently couldn’t sleep but instead chose to walk in and out of the room brining in various people who turned on the lights the next morning, we wouldn’t have been able to sleep much even had the walls been complete.
That morning after being forced awake, we got up and went to see Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia. This would be my second time seeing it, Lori’s first. But considering it’s a must see in Barcelona I couldn’t let Lori miss it. This time however, instead of going up the front spires as I did last time, we opted to go up the back spires. However, the elevator was not working as we found out after getting in line. We decided to make the trek up the spires by foot which turned out to not be too bad as it was a long line and went very slowly. We had a great view of the city and enjoyed our time but were anxious to get back to the beach since we were blessed with another fantastic day of great weather. So we hurried back, grabbed some beer, and enjoyed relaxing on the beach for as long as we could. Once the sun started going down it started getting chilly so we had to retreat back to the hostel. We got cleaned up and set out with the two British guys in our hostel room for a dinner of paella and sangria. We found a great restaurant near our hostel and had a great Spanish meal. Afterwards the four of us set out to enjoy the Spanish nightlife; unfortunately it started raining and was a Monday night so it wasn’t all that great. Nonetheless we found some nice bars along the beach and still managed to have a fun time despite getting soaked in the rain.
The next morning we were forced out of our hostel at 10 a.m. which was way too early for Lori and I considering we didn’t get home till about 5 a.m. the night before. However, determined to enjoy the last of the beach Lori and I put on out bathing suits and packed up our stuff and made it out of the hostel by 11 a.m. (upon them telling us we seriously had to get out of there) only to discover it was cold and rainy. Being extremely disappointed and exhausted we changed out of our bathing suits and took our bags to the bus station where we put them in a locker for the day as we weren’t supposed to leave Barcelona till the evening. We set out for Parc Guell on Danielle’s insistence that it was a must see. It is a Park done in Gaudi style that I had not seen on my first visit so I was willing to go and see what it was all about. While it was worth seeing the weather kind of ruined it for us as we were cold and tired and couldn’t get the great view of the city as you normally would had the weather been better. We eventually made our way back to the bus station where we picked up our bags and started the long trip back to Paris. We made it back late that evening and as usual it was back to work for me on Wednesday.
While extremely exhausting, as expected I really enjoyed my second visit to Barcelona. Still ranks high on my list of favorite cities as it can always provide a great time and a great meal of paella and sangria. While this trip ended on a down note with the weather, I was still very thankful to have received the 2 days that we had of great weather and to have had at least some time to escape the weather in Paris and actually relax on a beach for a while.
Below Lori and I are on the beach in front of our hostel...look how pretty and warm it looks!
After enjoying our time on the beach we decided to clean up and walk around the city some. We strolled Las Ramblas like typical tourists and ate a very late dinner like typical Spaniards. Being too tired to do much else we called it a night after dinner and returned to the hostel. This is where we decided the hostel was only so so. Seeing that the walls didn’t go all the way to the ceiling, leaving enormous gaps, the hostel was extremely loud. Come that morning we could hear everything happening within the hostel. Even still, due to our crazy German roommate who apparently couldn’t sleep but instead chose to walk in and out of the room brining in various people who turned on the lights the next morning, we wouldn’t have been able to sleep much even had the walls been complete.
That morning after being forced awake, we got up and went to see Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia. This would be my second time seeing it, Lori’s first. But considering it’s a must see in Barcelona I couldn’t let Lori miss it. This time however, instead of going up the front spires as I did last time, we opted to go up the back spires. However, the elevator was not working as we found out after getting in line. We decided to make the trek up the spires by foot which turned out to not be too bad as it was a long line and went very slowly. We had a great view of the city and enjoyed our time but were anxious to get back to the beach since we were blessed with another fantastic day of great weather. So we hurried back, grabbed some beer, and enjoyed relaxing on the beach for as long as we could. Once the sun started going down it started getting chilly so we had to retreat back to the hostel. We got cleaned up and set out with the two British guys in our hostel room for a dinner of paella and sangria. We found a great restaurant near our hostel and had a great Spanish meal. Afterwards the four of us set out to enjoy the Spanish nightlife; unfortunately it started raining and was a Monday night so it wasn’t all that great. Nonetheless we found some nice bars along the beach and still managed to have a fun time despite getting soaked in the rain.
The next morning we were forced out of our hostel at 10 a.m. which was way too early for Lori and I considering we didn’t get home till about 5 a.m. the night before. However, determined to enjoy the last of the beach Lori and I put on out bathing suits and packed up our stuff and made it out of the hostel by 11 a.m. (upon them telling us we seriously had to get out of there) only to discover it was cold and rainy. Being extremely disappointed and exhausted we changed out of our bathing suits and took our bags to the bus station where we put them in a locker for the day as we weren’t supposed to leave Barcelona till the evening. We set out for Parc Guell on Danielle’s insistence that it was a must see. It is a Park done in Gaudi style that I had not seen on my first visit so I was willing to go and see what it was all about. While it was worth seeing the weather kind of ruined it for us as we were cold and tired and couldn’t get the great view of the city as you normally would had the weather been better. We eventually made our way back to the bus station where we picked up our bags and started the long trip back to Paris. We made it back late that evening and as usual it was back to work for me on Wednesday.
While extremely exhausting, as expected I really enjoyed my second visit to Barcelona. Still ranks high on my list of favorite cities as it can always provide a great time and a great meal of paella and sangria. While this trip ended on a down note with the weather, I was still very thankful to have received the 2 days that we had of great weather and to have had at least some time to escape the weather in Paris and actually relax on a beach for a while.
Below Lori and I are on the beach in front of our hostel...look how pretty and warm it looks!
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Public "Restrooms" in France
I think everyone would agree that France is considered a civilized/modern society. They’re one of the top economies in Europe and the world ranking 6th in GDP (nationmaster.com). While their economy ranks high amongst the rest of the world, they’ve somehow managed to lag behind in a few areas leaving one to believe they may not be as civilized as they appear.
The example I’d like to take the time to point out is public urination. I know you see public urination in the U.S. but in France it is on a whole different level. It goes beyond just simple public urination too. Anyone who has visited France is very familiar with its dog poo covered streets. The French love their dogs and bring them with them everywhere and as a result let them use the restroom anywhere as well. Since living here I’ve seen dogs pee/poop on anything and never once have their owners picked it up or attempted to have their dogs go somewhere a little less public. Two times now I’ve even seen them let their dogs pee on other peoples cars. That’s right just today I saw a rather large dog lift its leg and pee on the front side of someone else’s car as the owner of the dog just stood there.
In addition to dogs peeing in the streets one can see at any time of the day a grown man peeing on the street as well. It’s not uncommon to be walking along a sidewalk and come upon a liquid trail running down the sidewalk only to follow it up to some man peeing against the wall. Nor is it uncommon to see them doing this under a spot light. I guess they like to have light while they pee on the streets. The problem here too is it’s not only homeless or drunks doing it; kids with their parents do it as well. In fact they encourage it. At Disneyland Paris a father took his son to the bushes while waiting in line for a ride and had him pee right there next to everyone waiting in line; thus only encouraging further public urination when he grows up. While I find this act alone very disturbing and disgusting I had no idea how bad it could get until last Wednesday. Danielle and I deciding to have our lunch in a small park in front of a church not far from my work were seated on the steps to the church when a mother took her son (around the age of 6) into some grass behind some bushes. Unfortunately from our angle he was not behind the bushes at all. She goes back there with her son carrying wipes. Wondering why she would have wipes I fear the worst is about to happen; then it did. She picks up her son and holds him up and he poops right there in full view of us in a very public park. At this point I can’t help but think of the dogs I’ve seen pooping on the streets in Paris and wonder how they can treat their children in the same manner.
Anyone who has been to Paris has probably noticed the public pay restrooms on almost every corner. Very often these restrooms are very clean, especially considering they’re public restrooms. I guess we now know why they’re so clean. The only people who actually care to use a restroom to do their business are the tourists. The French are still content doing theirs in public just as their dogs do, leaving me to wonder if they will ever decide to stop acting like animals and become a fully civilized society.
The example I’d like to take the time to point out is public urination. I know you see public urination in the U.S. but in France it is on a whole different level. It goes beyond just simple public urination too. Anyone who has visited France is very familiar with its dog poo covered streets. The French love their dogs and bring them with them everywhere and as a result let them use the restroom anywhere as well. Since living here I’ve seen dogs pee/poop on anything and never once have their owners picked it up or attempted to have their dogs go somewhere a little less public. Two times now I’ve even seen them let their dogs pee on other peoples cars. That’s right just today I saw a rather large dog lift its leg and pee on the front side of someone else’s car as the owner of the dog just stood there.
In addition to dogs peeing in the streets one can see at any time of the day a grown man peeing on the street as well. It’s not uncommon to be walking along a sidewalk and come upon a liquid trail running down the sidewalk only to follow it up to some man peeing against the wall. Nor is it uncommon to see them doing this under a spot light. I guess they like to have light while they pee on the streets. The problem here too is it’s not only homeless or drunks doing it; kids with their parents do it as well. In fact they encourage it. At Disneyland Paris a father took his son to the bushes while waiting in line for a ride and had him pee right there next to everyone waiting in line; thus only encouraging further public urination when he grows up. While I find this act alone very disturbing and disgusting I had no idea how bad it could get until last Wednesday. Danielle and I deciding to have our lunch in a small park in front of a church not far from my work were seated on the steps to the church when a mother took her son (around the age of 6) into some grass behind some bushes. Unfortunately from our angle he was not behind the bushes at all. She goes back there with her son carrying wipes. Wondering why she would have wipes I fear the worst is about to happen; then it did. She picks up her son and holds him up and he poops right there in full view of us in a very public park. At this point I can’t help but think of the dogs I’ve seen pooping on the streets in Paris and wonder how they can treat their children in the same manner.
Anyone who has been to Paris has probably noticed the public pay restrooms on almost every corner. Very often these restrooms are very clean, especially considering they’re public restrooms. I guess we now know why they’re so clean. The only people who actually care to use a restroom to do their business are the tourists. The French are still content doing theirs in public just as their dogs do, leaving me to wonder if they will ever decide to stop acting like animals and become a fully civilized society.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Going Medieval in Prague
So after actually making the trek across town to the train station for our 6 a.m. train Danielle and I hopped on the train to Prague. This time we were able to get a private room and had it all to ourselves thus allowing us to each take one side (the room is made up of 3 seats facing each other, so 6 seats total) and lie down and nap. The train ride was 4 ½ hours and again was very pretty from what I saw of it. I slept for the majority of the first part but was awake for the last hour or so. Nothing too eventful on the train, just lots of passport and ticket checks. Once we arrived, we headed to our hostel which was not far from the train station, yet was a little tricky finding. We checked in and were showed to our room. The room smelled as though someone had popped in their pants in there and Danielle and I were less than content with the quality of the room. Seeing the door open to the room across the hall we peeked in and saw that that room not only smelled better but looked better too. So we quickly grabbed our bags and went back down to the front desk to ask to be moved. Thankfully they accommodated us and let us have a room there on the first floor which was actually even better than the one we asked to be moved in. This one only had 5 beds in it as opposed to the 7 that the first room had and more importantly it didn’t stink.
On the train Danielle and I had decided we would take a walking tour of Prague since her friend who had just visited the week before recommended we do that. The tour was at 2 and since we arrived so early we had some time to kill. We walked around some on the main street and looked in a lot of the shops, then decided we should eat lunch before the tour. After walking around looking for a nice place to eat, we actually wound up at a Crêperie. Looks like we’re actually turning French. It was no surprise that it was filled with a lot of French tourists; seems the town was filled with them as well. However, I guess we haven’t turned completely French as neither one of us ordered a crêpe, instead I ordered Thai Chicken while Danielle ordered Goulash and Dumplings and we both shared garlic bread and I of course enjoyed cheap Czech beer. Quite an interesting and multicultural meal.
So finally it was 2 and time for our tour. To our surprise no one else showed up for the tour and it turned out to be a private tour for Danielle and me. The tour lasted about 4 hours and took us all over the town. Unfortunately the weather didn’t hold up as long as we would have liked and towards the end of the tour it started raining. Thankfully though it wasn’t that bad and we were able to still enjoy the tour. At the end of the tour Danielle and I walked around just a little bit and then returned to our hostel to shower and get ready to go out again. This time we had a mission for Czech food, but not just any Czech food, we wanted this fried cheese dish we had heard a lot about from Danielle’s friend. We had a list of restaurants in hand and set out. Unfortunately none of the restaurants had the fried cheese and the one we found that did, was too booked. So we wound up at an Italian restaurant. After finishing up dinner we went to a dance club where we had a great night that lasted till 4:30 in the morning dancing. Upon leaving the club we decided that even though our hostel wasn’t very far we were just too cold to walk so we decided to take a cab. Come to find out cabs don’t have meters but instead just tell you a flat rated which apparently differs by cab. Thankfully there were about 20 cabs all gathered in one area. The first cab told us 300 korunas, which we thought was a little high considering we were told it was 600 korunas to the airport which was about 30-45 mins away and we were only about 10 mins max from our hostel. So we decided to think more and during this time another cab driver walked up to us and asked where we were going and upon telling him our destination he told us that would cost 400 koruna. We quickly walked away deciding we’d go ahead and pay 300 but not 400. He then attempted to negotiate I assumed as he asked how much we were willing to pay. I said 250 and he said no so I said 300 and he said no again. Apparently he doesn’t understand the art of negotiation if he was completely unwilling to come down at least 50. So we walked away again and came upon the 3rd cab who said he would take us for 200. Better than we imagined so we hopped in and went back to the hostel.
The next day Danielle and I slept forever as we were absolutely exhausted from not only the night before but our whole trip. We finally woke up and went and had lunch at the place we had wanted to eat at the night before with the fried cheese. We had our fried cheese dish, which is really just like a giant mozzarella cheese stick served with tartar sauce instead of marinara. It was pretty good, but very filling. During our meal we got to watch as a line of army jeeps drove by the restaurant in parade style. That Sunday that we were there marked 60 years since they had been freed from the Soviets. They had apparently had a big demonstration of fighter jets and tanks in the morning but we slept through all that.
After lunch we went to see some of the sights that were pointed out to us on our tour but that we were unable to go in and visit with the tour. First stop was the Spanish synagogue done in Moorish style. That was my first experience with the Moorish style and I have to say I really enjoyed it. Unfortunately they didn’t allow pics at all. After the Synagogue we headed back up Castle Hill where we had been on the tour but had been unable to enter the Church up there. We couldn’t find the stairs we had taken down from Castle hill the day before but wound up taking stairs through the Palace gardens instead. Turned out to be worthwhile as we got several great views of the city. We viewed the church and came back down the hill and walked over to what they call “little Venice”. It’s a small island created alongside of the river by a small canal. Not much going on there but it was cute. We then walked back across Charles Bridge, did a little shopping and went and had a leisurely dinner. Thankfully the weather was great for us all day. We then went back home got ready and went to bed. The next morning would be the worst of all as we had to get up at 3:45 a.m. and leave the hostel by 4:15 to catch our 6 a.m. flight into Paris. Immediately after landing I went to work thus marking the end to my trip and throwing me harshly back into reality.
After the long trip Danielle and I were happy to be home even though we did have a great time. The trip was a blast and Prague was definitely my favorite. With out a doubt I’d return to Prague. I encourage everyone to try and go before they adopt the euro in about 6 years as it’s pretty darn cheap right now. On another note, Danielle and I are always being asked where we’re from when we’re in Paris. Most people assume for some reason that we are from either Italy or Spain. We’re not really sure why but they always seem to guess those two or try to speak to us in Italian or Spanish even when we speak English to each other. So during this trip we were curious to see if the central Europeans would think the same. As it turns out they do. At one restaurant in Vienna they kept speaking to us in Italian the whole night. At a souvenir shop in Prague immediately upon entering, the man starts speaking to us in Italian, when we don’t acknowledge it he then starts in Spanish asking if that’s where we’re from. Very strange it is, but kind of fun at the same time to leave them guessing.
Below is a pic of the Charles Bridge on the Vltava River. Below that is a pic of me with the Czech fried cheese dish called Smazeny Syr in Czech.
On the train Danielle and I had decided we would take a walking tour of Prague since her friend who had just visited the week before recommended we do that. The tour was at 2 and since we arrived so early we had some time to kill. We walked around some on the main street and looked in a lot of the shops, then decided we should eat lunch before the tour. After walking around looking for a nice place to eat, we actually wound up at a Crêperie. Looks like we’re actually turning French. It was no surprise that it was filled with a lot of French tourists; seems the town was filled with them as well. However, I guess we haven’t turned completely French as neither one of us ordered a crêpe, instead I ordered Thai Chicken while Danielle ordered Goulash and Dumplings and we both shared garlic bread and I of course enjoyed cheap Czech beer. Quite an interesting and multicultural meal.
So finally it was 2 and time for our tour. To our surprise no one else showed up for the tour and it turned out to be a private tour for Danielle and me. The tour lasted about 4 hours and took us all over the town. Unfortunately the weather didn’t hold up as long as we would have liked and towards the end of the tour it started raining. Thankfully though it wasn’t that bad and we were able to still enjoy the tour. At the end of the tour Danielle and I walked around just a little bit and then returned to our hostel to shower and get ready to go out again. This time we had a mission for Czech food, but not just any Czech food, we wanted this fried cheese dish we had heard a lot about from Danielle’s friend. We had a list of restaurants in hand and set out. Unfortunately none of the restaurants had the fried cheese and the one we found that did, was too booked. So we wound up at an Italian restaurant. After finishing up dinner we went to a dance club where we had a great night that lasted till 4:30 in the morning dancing. Upon leaving the club we decided that even though our hostel wasn’t very far we were just too cold to walk so we decided to take a cab. Come to find out cabs don’t have meters but instead just tell you a flat rated which apparently differs by cab. Thankfully there were about 20 cabs all gathered in one area. The first cab told us 300 korunas, which we thought was a little high considering we were told it was 600 korunas to the airport which was about 30-45 mins away and we were only about 10 mins max from our hostel. So we decided to think more and during this time another cab driver walked up to us and asked where we were going and upon telling him our destination he told us that would cost 400 koruna. We quickly walked away deciding we’d go ahead and pay 300 but not 400. He then attempted to negotiate I assumed as he asked how much we were willing to pay. I said 250 and he said no so I said 300 and he said no again. Apparently he doesn’t understand the art of negotiation if he was completely unwilling to come down at least 50. So we walked away again and came upon the 3rd cab who said he would take us for 200. Better than we imagined so we hopped in and went back to the hostel.
The next day Danielle and I slept forever as we were absolutely exhausted from not only the night before but our whole trip. We finally woke up and went and had lunch at the place we had wanted to eat at the night before with the fried cheese. We had our fried cheese dish, which is really just like a giant mozzarella cheese stick served with tartar sauce instead of marinara. It was pretty good, but very filling. During our meal we got to watch as a line of army jeeps drove by the restaurant in parade style. That Sunday that we were there marked 60 years since they had been freed from the Soviets. They had apparently had a big demonstration of fighter jets and tanks in the morning but we slept through all that.
After lunch we went to see some of the sights that were pointed out to us on our tour but that we were unable to go in and visit with the tour. First stop was the Spanish synagogue done in Moorish style. That was my first experience with the Moorish style and I have to say I really enjoyed it. Unfortunately they didn’t allow pics at all. After the Synagogue we headed back up Castle Hill where we had been on the tour but had been unable to enter the Church up there. We couldn’t find the stairs we had taken down from Castle hill the day before but wound up taking stairs through the Palace gardens instead. Turned out to be worthwhile as we got several great views of the city. We viewed the church and came back down the hill and walked over to what they call “little Venice”. It’s a small island created alongside of the river by a small canal. Not much going on there but it was cute. We then walked back across Charles Bridge, did a little shopping and went and had a leisurely dinner. Thankfully the weather was great for us all day. We then went back home got ready and went to bed. The next morning would be the worst of all as we had to get up at 3:45 a.m. and leave the hostel by 4:15 to catch our 6 a.m. flight into Paris. Immediately after landing I went to work thus marking the end to my trip and throwing me harshly back into reality.
After the long trip Danielle and I were happy to be home even though we did have a great time. The trip was a blast and Prague was definitely my favorite. With out a doubt I’d return to Prague. I encourage everyone to try and go before they adopt the euro in about 6 years as it’s pretty darn cheap right now. On another note, Danielle and I are always being asked where we’re from when we’re in Paris. Most people assume for some reason that we are from either Italy or Spain. We’re not really sure why but they always seem to guess those two or try to speak to us in Italian or Spanish even when we speak English to each other. So during this trip we were curious to see if the central Europeans would think the same. As it turns out they do. At one restaurant in Vienna they kept speaking to us in Italian the whole night. At a souvenir shop in Prague immediately upon entering, the man starts speaking to us in Italian, when we don’t acknowledge it he then starts in Spanish asking if that’s where we’re from. Very strange it is, but kind of fun at the same time to leave them guessing.
Below is a pic of the Charles Bridge on the Vltava River. Below that is a pic of me with the Czech fried cheese dish called Smazeny Syr in Czech.
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