Lest you think I've gone into hibernation since returning from Europe you should know that in the last week and a half I've been to two plays and a Pogues show. The latter was pretty much the highlight.
I'll admit that going to the Pogues show seemed like more of a novelty in the beginning. Not that I don't love the Pogues, I'm a big fan, and I wouldn't spend fifty bucks on a ticket to their show just for the opportunity to possibly get puked on by Shane MacGowan. I do love the Pogues, but with everything you hear about Shane MacGowan's...um...stage presence, I wouldn't expect a lot from a live Pogues show. I'd expect it to be amazing just because it's always amazing to see one of your favorite bands live even if they don't put on the best show anymore.
The show, and MacGowan in particular, exceeded my expectations. At first, MacGowan lived down to his reputation. He came out on stage and seemed pretty out of it, kind of incoherent. He would sing a couple songs and then leave the stage for a song or two. About half way through the show though, he got a hold on it and he sang the remainder of the show almost coherently.
They did two encores and ended the show with Fiesta which is, I think, my favorite Pogues' song, and by that point MacGowan really shined. I have to say he did pretty good with Dirty Old Town too which is another of my favorites, but Fiesta was the show stopper in more ways than one.
While the Pogues show was the clear highlight I've also been enjoying the new season at the Seattle Repertory Theater as well. Last year I bought season tickets as part of my renewed interest in...life. I'd decided to see more concerts and plays and to travel more and that's what this blog has been all about. It's about my doing things I love ("for the thrill of it").
So, Twelfe Night was the first show of the season this year and I went to see it last weekend. While I love Shakespear and this production was great, that was last weekend and this weekend I saw Murderers (also at the Rep). Murderers is one of the funniest plays I've seen (and I've seen a lot of plays).
Murderers is staged in the Rep's Leo K Theater which is a bit smaller than the Rep's "main" stage, the Bagley Wright Theater. I definitely prefer seeing shows in smaller theaters (except for musicals) because there's a better audience energy. There's more of a give and take between the actors and audience in a smaller theater and this show especially relies on that because it is all monologue so the only people the actors can play off of are the audience members.
The show is still playing through November 4th so, if you live in Seattle, or are planning to visit this week, you should see this play, you won't be sorry.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Delayed reaction
I don't know why it's taken me this long to write something about the Supersuckers show at the Tractor Tavern. It was almost two weeks ago. Maybe because I'd seen them, and written about it, less than a week prior, or maybe because my attentions have been diverted to other creative endeavors the past couple weeks and I've now hit a giant snag there in the form of writers block that I can't seem to shake. Whatever the reason I didn't write about it before, I'm ready to write about it now.
You might think it odd that I'd go see the same band twice in a week. Die hard fans won't. People who saw both Pearl Jam shows at the Gorge, or all three Dave Matthews shows, or Dead Heads, but other people might. The Supersuckers put on almost the exact same set at the Tractor that they'd done a week before. So, what's the big attraction? Well, there's the charisma I talked about before of course. Even when the set is almost identical, it's still brilliant, and funny, and it still rocks more than most shows. Also, seeing the Supersuckers at the Tractor is like seeing Death Cab for Cutie at the Showbox or, I imagine, like seeing the Cubs play at Wrigley (and with all the times I've been to Chicago, and my feelings about baseball, you'd think I'd know first hand about that, but I don't); It's the home stage advantage. At least that's the feeling you get watching them there, like they've come home and they're really enjoying it.
Finally, the Tractor Tavern is simply a great place. I'd only been there one other time. It's an odd place. You walk in there and you think there's no way you'll be able to see the stage unless you push your way to the front of the crowd. I'm am most certainly not a push my way to the front of the crowd kind of girl. I like to find a seat, somewhere where I can actually see the stage. I know, it's not very rock and roll of me to want to sit down while I watch live music, but I am the way I am. The initial impression though, that you won't be able to see from anywhere other than right next to the stage, couldn't be more wrong. You can see the stage from everywhere.
You can't beat a great band at a great venue (with the home stage advantage). Viel Spaß!
You might think it odd that I'd go see the same band twice in a week. Die hard fans won't. People who saw both Pearl Jam shows at the Gorge, or all three Dave Matthews shows, or Dead Heads, but other people might. The Supersuckers put on almost the exact same set at the Tractor that they'd done a week before. So, what's the big attraction? Well, there's the charisma I talked about before of course. Even when the set is almost identical, it's still brilliant, and funny, and it still rocks more than most shows. Also, seeing the Supersuckers at the Tractor is like seeing Death Cab for Cutie at the Showbox or, I imagine, like seeing the Cubs play at Wrigley (and with all the times I've been to Chicago, and my feelings about baseball, you'd think I'd know first hand about that, but I don't); It's the home stage advantage. At least that's the feeling you get watching them there, like they've come home and they're really enjoying it.
Finally, the Tractor Tavern is simply a great place. I'd only been there one other time. It's an odd place. You walk in there and you think there's no way you'll be able to see the stage unless you push your way to the front of the crowd. I'm am most certainly not a push my way to the front of the crowd kind of girl. I like to find a seat, somewhere where I can actually see the stage. I know, it's not very rock and roll of me to want to sit down while I watch live music, but I am the way I am. The initial impression though, that you won't be able to see from anywhere other than right next to the stage, couldn't be more wrong. You can see the stage from everywhere.
You can't beat a great band at a great venue (with the home stage advantage). Viel Spaß!
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Cheese toast: The meaning of life.
I finally graduated from college yesterday. An event which, while thrilling, fills me with abject terror because it leaves me without a goal. So, instead of examining that I'm going to focus on the one thing I've really learned in the last 10 years.
Toaster ovens are far better than toasters. For some people it may seem obvious but others may be thinking, how big can the difference really be? It's just toast. Those people could not be more wrong.
Sure toast is just toast. That's all a regular toaster can make though. Your toaster oven, however, can make all sorts of things. Most things that you can bake in a regular oven you can also cook in a toaster oven, just in smaller quantities.
The two best things about the toaster over though are cheese toast and s'mores. I bet you didn't know that you could toast marshmallows in a toaster oven. All you need is parchment paper which will allow the marshmallows to toast on both sides while also keeping them from melting through the grate.
Cheese toast is self explanatory. I like to put mustard on mine. Sure, you can make toast in a regular toaster and put mustard and cheese on it after it's done, but the cheese won't get all melty and what's cheese toast that isn't melty.
Okay, maybe I've learned a few more things, both in college and in life, but the most important thing is the toaster oven principle.
Toaster ovens are far better than toasters. For some people it may seem obvious but others may be thinking, how big can the difference really be? It's just toast. Those people could not be more wrong.
Sure toast is just toast. That's all a regular toaster can make though. Your toaster oven, however, can make all sorts of things. Most things that you can bake in a regular oven you can also cook in a toaster oven, just in smaller quantities.
The two best things about the toaster over though are cheese toast and s'mores. I bet you didn't know that you could toast marshmallows in a toaster oven. All you need is parchment paper which will allow the marshmallows to toast on both sides while also keeping them from melting through the grate.
Cheese toast is self explanatory. I like to put mustard on mine. Sure, you can make toast in a regular toaster and put mustard and cheese on it after it's done, but the cheese won't get all melty and what's cheese toast that isn't melty.
Okay, maybe I've learned a few more things, both in college and in life, but the most important thing is the toaster oven principle.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
I like it all man
I saw the Supersuckers last night. It was sort of culmination in some ways of the last 6 months of my life. Back in late December a friend of mine recommended the Supersuckers to me. Actually, it was someone I barely knew at the time, but I trusted his taste in music because I knew he was a Who fan. So, I checked out the Supersuckers and immediately loved them and made it my goal to see them live (also ensuring the status of said friend as the best person in the world to go to for music recommendations). I missed the chance to see them in Munich, but luckily they're a local band for me so another opportunity presented itself this weekend.
I went with one of my best friends and we couldn't help getting into a conversation afterwords about the importance of stage presence. Now, of course, I love the music on its own, but live it's just different. Some bands you love and then you see them live and it sort of falls flat. You still love the music but the band doesn't have any charisma. The Supersuckers are not one of those bands. Eddie Spaghetti has so much stage presence that it's like a joke at the expense of all other musicians...or at least the ones that have to play before him.
The stage presence conversation lead to discussion of musical genres. My friend asked what genre I'd put the Supersuckers in and I had trouble with that question. I said they're sort of punk, sort of country, sort of pop, sort of rockabilly. She called it "ironic rock" which is a great label, though I think their country is more ironic than their rock. They kind of defy genre, but not in the art housey incomprehensible way, in a different, yet equally specific way that I like a lot.
Regrettably, I forgot to bring my camera and consequently didn't get any pictures. So, you'll just have to trust me, it was a great show. They're playing another show this Friday. Hopefully I'll get some pictures at that one.
I went with one of my best friends and we couldn't help getting into a conversation afterwords about the importance of stage presence. Now, of course, I love the music on its own, but live it's just different. Some bands you love and then you see them live and it sort of falls flat. You still love the music but the band doesn't have any charisma. The Supersuckers are not one of those bands. Eddie Spaghetti has so much stage presence that it's like a joke at the expense of all other musicians...or at least the ones that have to play before him.
The stage presence conversation lead to discussion of musical genres. My friend asked what genre I'd put the Supersuckers in and I had trouble with that question. I said they're sort of punk, sort of country, sort of pop, sort of rockabilly. She called it "ironic rock" which is a great label, though I think their country is more ironic than their rock. They kind of defy genre, but not in the art housey incomprehensible way, in a different, yet equally specific way that I like a lot.
Regrettably, I forgot to bring my camera and consequently didn't get any pictures. So, you'll just have to trust me, it was a great show. They're playing another show this Friday. Hopefully I'll get some pictures at that one.
Monday, May 21, 2007
7 Wonders
There's a movement afoot to create a new 7 wonders of the world and apparently more than 45 million people have already voted. I like the idea of the New 7 Wonders and I even appreciate that anyone with an e-mail address can vote for them. The original 7 wonders had their titles conferred on them by academics in ancient times, only one is still standing, and there hasn't been much agreement on what should replace those wonders that have fallen, which means there hasn't really been a list of 7 wonders in well over a thousand years. It's about time there was a new list.
I do find it odd that one of the criteria for the new wonders is they have to have been built or discovered prior to 2000. That opens it up pretty wide, allowing for the inclusion of the Sydney Opera House (built in 1954) among the possible contenders. I'm not saying the Sydney Opera House isn't a fascinating piece of architecture, and I haven't seen it up close so maybe I shouldn't say anything, but it's not exactly awe inspiring. Also, included on the list of candidates are the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower, which are, perhaps, slightly more awe inspiring than the Sydney Opera House, but not much.
I would think the candidates would be structures that are grand in scope and have been around for ages. For me the architecturally interesting factor is multiplied exponentially if it's old, perhaps ahead of it's time, perhaps spanning multiple architectural styles and time periods. Having an interesting, and long, history was the main criteria I used in deciding what to vote for. I see the appeal of the iconic, though less historically significant, but I don't think that's what the list is about.
The only two of these prospective new wonders that I've actually been to are Schloss Neuschwanstein and Alhambra. Neuschwanstein is beautiful and has a pretty interesting history, plus it's iconic (of course a lot of people aren't entirely sure Neuschwanstien isn't modeled after the Cinderella castle at Disneyland rather than the other way around), but it's not that old relative to a lot of the other monuments on the list of possible wonders. The day I went to Neuschwanstein was the highlight of my travels on a personal level but from a tourist perspective, Alhambra, was definitely the highlight of my 7 week sojourn in Europe. It's massive and has such a rich history, plus it's beautiful and has been around almost a millennium. So, all of this is designed to get you to go vote for the Alhambra and which ever 6 other wonders strike your fancy. Before you go though, check out some pictures of the incomparable Alhambra:
I do find it odd that one of the criteria for the new wonders is they have to have been built or discovered prior to 2000. That opens it up pretty wide, allowing for the inclusion of the Sydney Opera House (built in 1954) among the possible contenders. I'm not saying the Sydney Opera House isn't a fascinating piece of architecture, and I haven't seen it up close so maybe I shouldn't say anything, but it's not exactly awe inspiring. Also, included on the list of candidates are the Statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower, which are, perhaps, slightly more awe inspiring than the Sydney Opera House, but not much.
I would think the candidates would be structures that are grand in scope and have been around for ages. For me the architecturally interesting factor is multiplied exponentially if it's old, perhaps ahead of it's time, perhaps spanning multiple architectural styles and time periods. Having an interesting, and long, history was the main criteria I used in deciding what to vote for. I see the appeal of the iconic, though less historically significant, but I don't think that's what the list is about.
The only two of these prospective new wonders that I've actually been to are Schloss Neuschwanstein and Alhambra. Neuschwanstein is beautiful and has a pretty interesting history, plus it's iconic (of course a lot of people aren't entirely sure Neuschwanstien isn't modeled after the Cinderella castle at Disneyland rather than the other way around), but it's not that old relative to a lot of the other monuments on the list of possible wonders. The day I went to Neuschwanstein was the highlight of my travels on a personal level but from a tourist perspective, Alhambra, was definitely the highlight of my 7 week sojourn in Europe. It's massive and has such a rich history, plus it's beautiful and has been around almost a millennium. So, all of this is designed to get you to go vote for the Alhambra and which ever 6 other wonders strike your fancy. Before you go though, check out some pictures of the incomparable Alhambra:
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Free Will Astrology
"It's about time you got the chance to be knocked on your ass by a flood of positive surprises and good feelings. I hope you're trusting enough to go with the tidal flow, even if it does temporarily render you a bit woozy. Naturally you'd like to know if this giddy surrender will land you in trouble. Is there any chance that you'll have to endure some karmic adjustment at a later date because of the fun you're having now? Here's my prediction: absolutely not. If anything, your enthusiastic cooperation with the free-form dazzle will shield you from any negative repercussions."
That's my horoscope for the week from Free Will Astrology. I don't know if you're familiar with Free Will Astrology but it's the horoscope column from Seattle's alternative weekly, the Stranger, which is now syndicated and has it's own website (www.freewillastrology.com). I've been reading these horoscopes off and on since I was 16 years old. In fact when I was 16 I was a big believer in them, often clipping them out of the Stranger and saving them. I'm less of a believer in astrology now than I was then but these particular horoscopes are usually funny so I still read them from time to time. They are weekly and their weeks always start on Thursday (presumably because that's the day the Stranger comes out and that's where they began).
So, on Tuesday I locked myself out of my apartment, not such a big deal as I have a roommate who said he'd be around when I got home from work. Then I managed to also lock myself out of my car when I got to work. The first was my own absent mindedness, the second was because the car key fell out of my pocket onto the floor of the car. Yesterday, I was in a car accident which was not my fault but for which I was ticketed anyway. Today, Thursday, is my birthday.
Supposing this horoscope is right that I'm about to receive a tidal wave of positive surprises I think I've already had a pre-emptive karmic adjustment for it.
That's my horoscope for the week from Free Will Astrology. I don't know if you're familiar with Free Will Astrology but it's the horoscope column from Seattle's alternative weekly, the Stranger, which is now syndicated and has it's own website (www.freewillastrology.com). I've been reading these horoscopes off and on since I was 16 years old. In fact when I was 16 I was a big believer in them, often clipping them out of the Stranger and saving them. I'm less of a believer in astrology now than I was then but these particular horoscopes are usually funny so I still read them from time to time. They are weekly and their weeks always start on Thursday (presumably because that's the day the Stranger comes out and that's where they began).
So, on Tuesday I locked myself out of my apartment, not such a big deal as I have a roommate who said he'd be around when I got home from work. Then I managed to also lock myself out of my car when I got to work. The first was my own absent mindedness, the second was because the car key fell out of my pocket onto the floor of the car. Yesterday, I was in a car accident which was not my fault but for which I was ticketed anyway. Today, Thursday, is my birthday.
Supposing this horoscope is right that I'm about to receive a tidal wave of positive surprises I think I've already had a pre-emptive karmic adjustment for it.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Perfect Moments
I went to Mexico last Friday, just for the weekend. It was an impulsive decision. A guy I met in Munich was getting married and he invited me to his wedding. It meant a lot to me that he asked so I decided to go, I decided I had to go.
I've been doing a lot of traveling lately, as you may have noticed, and, of course, it has been an incredible experience as a whole but what really sticks with me are isolated moments.
In Mexico, at my friend's wedding reception, things were beginning to wind down and I went outside to call a cab. It started raining really hard and I stepped just inside the doorway to get out of the rain. There was lightning and for the longest time I've been terrified of lightning but this time I wasn't. I sort of felt like stepping out and standing in the rain for a while, but I stayed in the doorway. I watched the rain and lightning for a few minutes.
Then I went back inside and back on the dance floor which by that time had thinned out a little and the rock band had been replaced by a mariachi band and everyone formed a circle and linked arms and sang (except I didn't because I didn't know any of the songs). It was a kind of a perfect moment.
I had a few perfect moments like that on my trip(s).
Watching the sunrise in Switzerland was pretty perfect.
In Munich I had a whole day that was sort of perfect. It was the day we went to Schloss Neuschwanstein. I woke up early that morning and walked to the Hauptbahnhof. I was early for the bus so I went into the train station and bought Nussschnecken for my classmates, had a super cute German boy chat me up, and then went to get on my bus. That was the day that I realized I had really found a brother there. After the Schloss we went to the Schrannenhalle and had a few beers and then to an Itallian restaurant in my building and had a few more. Someone grabbed my camera and took a picture of me and my new brother near the end of that night, right at the moment I was realizing that the day had been perfect and that the moment was perfect.
I had a lot of perfect moments in Granada.
The day I got back from Barcelona I walked around Granada, went shopping, saw the Cathedral and then met up with a friend and went in search of a bowl of gazpacho. When we found it I couldn't believe how perfect that moment was. I actually stopped with the spoon halfway to my mouth just to enjoy the moment. Which kind of freaked out the guy I was with, but I couldn't help it. It had turned into a really great day despite having started out as one of the worst of my trip (that morning in Barcelona my suitcase had broken). The Gazpacho turned out to be excellent, but it was the company that made that moment so perfect.
I had a few perfect moments alone (like the sunrise in Switzerland for example), but it was actually often the company that made the moments perfect.
In London I sat at a sushi bar in Paddington station and ate sushi and drank ten glasses of fizzy water and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, with the friend I'd been staying with there. That was another perfect moment that was certainly a result of the company more than anything.
Occasionally I have random impulses to become like a hermit. Lately I've also thought about divesting myself of possessions and moving to Europe (I've even looked at jobs in Dublin, London and Hamburg). The trip made me appreciate solitude a lot more, it increased these impulses to withdraw from human contact, but there are all these perfect moments and most of them are perfect because of the people. I guess it turns out I'm a people person.
I've been doing a lot of traveling lately, as you may have noticed, and, of course, it has been an incredible experience as a whole but what really sticks with me are isolated moments.
In Mexico, at my friend's wedding reception, things were beginning to wind down and I went outside to call a cab. It started raining really hard and I stepped just inside the doorway to get out of the rain. There was lightning and for the longest time I've been terrified of lightning but this time I wasn't. I sort of felt like stepping out and standing in the rain for a while, but I stayed in the doorway. I watched the rain and lightning for a few minutes.
Then I went back inside and back on the dance floor which by that time had thinned out a little and the rock band had been replaced by a mariachi band and everyone formed a circle and linked arms and sang (except I didn't because I didn't know any of the songs). It was a kind of a perfect moment.
I had a few perfect moments like that on my trip(s).
Watching the sunrise in Switzerland was pretty perfect.
In Munich I had a whole day that was sort of perfect. It was the day we went to Schloss Neuschwanstein. I woke up early that morning and walked to the Hauptbahnhof. I was early for the bus so I went into the train station and bought Nussschnecken for my classmates, had a super cute German boy chat me up, and then went to get on my bus. That was the day that I realized I had really found a brother there. After the Schloss we went to the Schrannenhalle and had a few beers and then to an Itallian restaurant in my building and had a few more. Someone grabbed my camera and took a picture of me and my new brother near the end of that night, right at the moment I was realizing that the day had been perfect and that the moment was perfect.
I had a lot of perfect moments in Granada.
The day I got back from Barcelona I walked around Granada, went shopping, saw the Cathedral and then met up with a friend and went in search of a bowl of gazpacho. When we found it I couldn't believe how perfect that moment was. I actually stopped with the spoon halfway to my mouth just to enjoy the moment. Which kind of freaked out the guy I was with, but I couldn't help it. It had turned into a really great day despite having started out as one of the worst of my trip (that morning in Barcelona my suitcase had broken). The Gazpacho turned out to be excellent, but it was the company that made that moment so perfect.
I had a few perfect moments alone (like the sunrise in Switzerland for example), but it was actually often the company that made the moments perfect.
In London I sat at a sushi bar in Paddington station and ate sushi and drank ten glasses of fizzy water and laughed, and laughed, and laughed, with the friend I'd been staying with there. That was another perfect moment that was certainly a result of the company more than anything.
Occasionally I have random impulses to become like a hermit. Lately I've also thought about divesting myself of possessions and moving to Europe (I've even looked at jobs in Dublin, London and Hamburg). The trip made me appreciate solitude a lot more, it increased these impulses to withdraw from human contact, but there are all these perfect moments and most of them are perfect because of the people. I guess it turns out I'm a people person.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Essen und Trinken
I've been back home for a few days now and have indulged myself in one of the things I missed most: mole poblano enchiladas. So, it's time to start talking about the food in Europe. I've mentioned it briefly before and the gist is that some of the food was good but a lot of it wasn't that great. I did have one food experience that was surprisingly good though and that was black pudding.
As you might imagine, black pudding is the black bit in this photo, which, by the way, is a proper English breakfast (bacon, sausage, eggs, bubble and squeak, mushrooms, and black pudding). You probably don't want to know what's in the black pudding, especially if you plan on ever eating it, but trust me it's actually kind of good (and must have loads of iron which is nice for me as I have an iron deficiency).
In Ireland they served a proper Irish breakfast which also had white pudding. I suspect that the terms black and white pudding were just coined to avoid saying that the breakfast comes with all the above plus sausage, sausage, and sausage.
I had a couple of other really great food experiences in Europe. The tapas were good. Of course the best tapas I had were in Germany (at a really great Spanish restaurant called Alhambra) and Ireland, not in Spain. The curry was good in London. And there was one really great restaurant in Munich, just up the street from where I was living, that served all sorts of food and it was all fantastic. The best was this salad with goat cheese and pumpkin seeds.
What was really great in Europe was the beverages. The juice and tea in Spain. The whiskey in Ireland. The Pimms in London. The Jagermeister and, of course, the beer in Munich. I also have to add the tequila in Mexico to this list. Normally I hate tequila, but that tequila was really good.
As you might imagine, black pudding is the black bit in this photo, which, by the way, is a proper English breakfast (bacon, sausage, eggs, bubble and squeak, mushrooms, and black pudding). You probably don't want to know what's in the black pudding, especially if you plan on ever eating it, but trust me it's actually kind of good (and must have loads of iron which is nice for me as I have an iron deficiency).
In Ireland they served a proper Irish breakfast which also had white pudding. I suspect that the terms black and white pudding were just coined to avoid saying that the breakfast comes with all the above plus sausage, sausage, and sausage.
I had a couple of other really great food experiences in Europe. The tapas were good. Of course the best tapas I had were in Germany (at a really great Spanish restaurant called Alhambra) and Ireland, not in Spain. The curry was good in London. And there was one really great restaurant in Munich, just up the street from where I was living, that served all sorts of food and it was all fantastic. The best was this salad with goat cheese and pumpkin seeds.
What was really great in Europe was the beverages. The juice and tea in Spain. The whiskey in Ireland. The Pimms in London. The Jagermeister and, of course, the beer in Munich. I also have to add the tequila in Mexico to this list. Normally I hate tequila, but that tequila was really good.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Fear of flying
Anyone who's taken a 7th grade science class knows the basic scientific method. First you formulate a theory and then you test it. Really test it. Not a test that's designed specifically to prove the theory but a really hard one. One that's practically designed to disprove the theory and if it doesn't disprove the theory, well, then it's a pretty solid theory.
Take my theory that 9 flights in a month and a half would cure my fear of flying by getting me so used to it that it would seem routine to me. The theory seemed pretty solid after 5 flights when I no longer needed to take Dramamine and by that 9th flight (all 10 hours of it) I was perfectly calm. The theory needed a test though and it got one.
What would you think would be the perfect, scientific method approved, test for this theory? Try putting me on the second smallest plane I've ever been on and flying me into a lightning storm.
You'll be happy to hear that the theory survived the test pretty well. I don't know that my fear is entirely conquered. My palms did get a little sweaty while flying through the lightning filled clouds over Puebla tonight; seeing the fires that I can only assume were started by the lightning. I didn't feel like I was going to puke though. So, I think I may finally be past the worst of my fear of flying.
Take my theory that 9 flights in a month and a half would cure my fear of flying by getting me so used to it that it would seem routine to me. The theory seemed pretty solid after 5 flights when I no longer needed to take Dramamine and by that 9th flight (all 10 hours of it) I was perfectly calm. The theory needed a test though and it got one.
What would you think would be the perfect, scientific method approved, test for this theory? Try putting me on the second smallest plane I've ever been on and flying me into a lightning storm.
You'll be happy to hear that the theory survived the test pretty well. I don't know that my fear is entirely conquered. My palms did get a little sweaty while flying through the lightning filled clouds over Puebla tonight; seeing the fires that I can only assume were started by the lightning. I didn't feel like I was going to puke though. So, I think I may finally be past the worst of my fear of flying.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Little things
I'm back at home now and I'm thinking back on my trip and the oddest things are coming back to me, little things.
I know I've talked about the great guys I met in Munich, about the beer drinking, and the English garden, and my first Jager shot, and conversations about love and faith, and I've said just how great they were, how they were gentlemen and yet also total guys if you know what I mean, but here's a story I haven't told:
It was our last night in Munich, at least our last night all together in Munich because the Swedes were leaving the next day. We were sitting around a table outside at the Schrannenhalle trying not to get morose about the fact that it was our last night. The topic turned to how much weight we all were bound to have gained after two weeks of drinking wiess beer by the liter (or half liter but no one ever had just one). I swear to God it was the boys that brought up the topic of weight gain. I participated in the conversation. The truth was I'd actually lost 4 kilos while I'd been in Munich and I said so. They were a little surprised and it lead the talk to exactly how much they all weighed. One by one everyone asked each other how much they weighed, except for me. Not one of the boys asked my weight. These boys who gave me so much shit about...everything, allowed an entire conversation about weight gain and loss to pass by without once asking my weight. It's weird the things you remember, the things you hold onto. These boys were absolutely the coolest and there are tons of stories I can tell to illustrate it, but this is the one that comes to mind.
Speaking of weight loss I've actually lost around 5 kilos even though, after Munich, I went on to London and Dublin where I ate a mountain of the greasiest food possible.
I know I've talked about the great guys I met in Munich, about the beer drinking, and the English garden, and my first Jager shot, and conversations about love and faith, and I've said just how great they were, how they were gentlemen and yet also total guys if you know what I mean, but here's a story I haven't told:
It was our last night in Munich, at least our last night all together in Munich because the Swedes were leaving the next day. We were sitting around a table outside at the Schrannenhalle trying not to get morose about the fact that it was our last night. The topic turned to how much weight we all were bound to have gained after two weeks of drinking wiess beer by the liter (or half liter but no one ever had just one). I swear to God it was the boys that brought up the topic of weight gain. I participated in the conversation. The truth was I'd actually lost 4 kilos while I'd been in Munich and I said so. They were a little surprised and it lead the talk to exactly how much they all weighed. One by one everyone asked each other how much they weighed, except for me. Not one of the boys asked my weight. These boys who gave me so much shit about...everything, allowed an entire conversation about weight gain and loss to pass by without once asking my weight. It's weird the things you remember, the things you hold onto. These boys were absolutely the coolest and there are tons of stories I can tell to illustrate it, but this is the one that comes to mind.
Speaking of weight loss I've actually lost around 5 kilos even though, after Munich, I went on to London and Dublin where I ate a mountain of the greasiest food possible.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
And then I'm gone
My brain is properly melted since coming back from Granada. I can't seem to put together two coherent sentences, can't be bothered to go out clubbing with my friends in London and even in Ireland didn't get up to much debauchery. Just drank whiskey and tea and went to the theater (we saw Sweeney Todd at the Gate theater and it was amazing).
It's getting to be time for me to go back home. I'm kind of ready for it frankly though my definition of home has changed a bit along the way. Now, when my travel fatigue is taking over and I long for home I feel like Munich or Granada would do just as well as Seattle. In fact right this minute either of those places would do better than Seattle. If I could afford to, which I guess technically I could but then I'd go back home to no job and with no money in savings to see me through until I found a job, but if money weren't an issue, I'd go back to Munich or Granada and stay another couple weeks. In fact if money weren't an issue I might stay indefinitely.
It is time for me to get back to Seattle though, I'll be leaving London on Tuesday, and I thought a list might be in order, of countries I've been in, cities I've visited, attractions and events I've seen, people I've met and things I've done in the last couple months in Europe. A retrospective.
I've been in 10 different countries in the last month and a half:
Switzerland
Italy
Lichtenstein
Austria
Germany
Czech Republic
England
France
Spain
Ireland
I only drove through Lichtenstein and Austria, and France I was only in for about 12 hours and Italy for less, but the rest I visited properly.
I've been to the tallest viewpoints in many of these places:
I went to the Olympia Tower in Munich, I rode on the London Eye, and went to the top of the Chimney Tower in Dublin (but I didn't go up the TV tower in Prague).
I saw live theater in both London (We Will Rock You) and Dublin (Sweeney Todd).
I ate crap food in Germany and France but pretty good food in London, Ireland and the Czech Republic. Spain had okay food and absolutely fantastic tea.
I met some amazing people in Munich who will, hopefully, be lifelong friends and I also got to hang out in London with some of my best mates from back home.
I saw live music in East Germany but didn't end up seeing any in Munich, London or Ireland.
I drank more beer and whiskey than likely in the rest of my life combined...well, maybe not more beer, but definitely more whiskey. And my first ever Jager shot (and second, third and fourth). Interestingly, I drank no gin at all.
I saw the Paris-Roubaix. Stood right next to the pave and watched Tom Boonen ride by in the heat and the dust.
I saw palaces and castles in Bellinzona, Munich, Prague and Granada. I saw cathedrals in cities all over Europe. Granada has the best of both by the way.
I talked about politics, philosophy, books, movies, music, sex, religion, love, commitment and the weather with some amazing people.
I saw a ton of cute furry animals. Dogs everywhere in Spain. Dogs almost never on leashes anywhere I went. Birds everywhere in Spain too. Not to mention herds of deer just setting in fields by the side of the road or train tracks (and once in a park). Stray cats at the Alhambra. Tons of livestock including flocks of sheep, highland cattle, horses, pigs and goats.
I've walked over about a million cobblestones, nearly destroying a brand new pair of shoes in under a week.
I've learned that I prefer buses to trains (by a lot).
I've nearly gotten over my fear of flying (after 8 flights in 6 weeks).
I've sent two care packages back to the friends in the States and many postcards.
I bought souvenir paintings of Prague and Granada (my two favorite cities in Europe so far), and had my name painted in Arabic.
I took over 1500 pictures.
I've gained a brother (or two, or five).
I've acquired the taste for beer and whiskey.
I'm going to certainly come back to Seattle as one of those obnoxious world traveling people who insists that people in the States just don't know what real beer is (or real chocolate).
I'm ready to be done travelling, but I'm not ready to leave Europe behind me. I'm already trying to plan my next trip back here (to Sweden next time).
It's getting to be time for me to go back home. I'm kind of ready for it frankly though my definition of home has changed a bit along the way. Now, when my travel fatigue is taking over and I long for home I feel like Munich or Granada would do just as well as Seattle. In fact right this minute either of those places would do better than Seattle. If I could afford to, which I guess technically I could but then I'd go back home to no job and with no money in savings to see me through until I found a job, but if money weren't an issue, I'd go back to Munich or Granada and stay another couple weeks. In fact if money weren't an issue I might stay indefinitely.
It is time for me to get back to Seattle though, I'll be leaving London on Tuesday, and I thought a list might be in order, of countries I've been in, cities I've visited, attractions and events I've seen, people I've met and things I've done in the last couple months in Europe. A retrospective.
I've been in 10 different countries in the last month and a half:
Switzerland
Italy
Lichtenstein
Austria
Germany
Czech Republic
England
France
Spain
Ireland
I only drove through Lichtenstein and Austria, and France I was only in for about 12 hours and Italy for less, but the rest I visited properly.
I've been to the tallest viewpoints in many of these places:
I went to the Olympia Tower in Munich, I rode on the London Eye, and went to the top of the Chimney Tower in Dublin (but I didn't go up the TV tower in Prague).
I saw live theater in both London (We Will Rock You) and Dublin (Sweeney Todd).
I ate crap food in Germany and France but pretty good food in London, Ireland and the Czech Republic. Spain had okay food and absolutely fantastic tea.
I met some amazing people in Munich who will, hopefully, be lifelong friends and I also got to hang out in London with some of my best mates from back home.
I saw live music in East Germany but didn't end up seeing any in Munich, London or Ireland.
I drank more beer and whiskey than likely in the rest of my life combined...well, maybe not more beer, but definitely more whiskey. And my first ever Jager shot (and second, third and fourth). Interestingly, I drank no gin at all.
I saw the Paris-Roubaix. Stood right next to the pave and watched Tom Boonen ride by in the heat and the dust.
I saw palaces and castles in Bellinzona, Munich, Prague and Granada. I saw cathedrals in cities all over Europe. Granada has the best of both by the way.
I talked about politics, philosophy, books, movies, music, sex, religion, love, commitment and the weather with some amazing people.
I saw a ton of cute furry animals. Dogs everywhere in Spain. Dogs almost never on leashes anywhere I went. Birds everywhere in Spain too. Not to mention herds of deer just setting in fields by the side of the road or train tracks (and once in a park). Stray cats at the Alhambra. Tons of livestock including flocks of sheep, highland cattle, horses, pigs and goats.
I've walked over about a million cobblestones, nearly destroying a brand new pair of shoes in under a week.
I've learned that I prefer buses to trains (by a lot).
I've nearly gotten over my fear of flying (after 8 flights in 6 weeks).
I've sent two care packages back to the friends in the States and many postcards.
I bought souvenir paintings of Prague and Granada (my two favorite cities in Europe so far), and had my name painted in Arabic.
I took over 1500 pictures.
I've gained a brother (or two, or five).
I've acquired the taste for beer and whiskey.
I'm going to certainly come back to Seattle as one of those obnoxious world traveling people who insists that people in the States just don't know what real beer is (or real chocolate).
I'm ready to be done travelling, but I'm not ready to leave Europe behind me. I'm already trying to plan my next trip back here (to Sweden next time).
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Barcelona
I'm not sure what to say about Barcelona. It was a beautiful city, but I couldn't enjoy it like I would have wanted to. Part of that was because my trip there was sort of a fiasco of progressively worse luggage problems to the point where I spent my last hours in the city carrying around my broken, open, suitcase looking for a place to buy a new one. The other part is loneliness. I felt similar about Barcelona to how I felt about Prague but in Prague I snapped out of it the second day and enjoyed my solitary travel experience like I always do. In Barcelona it stuck with me. I still enjoyed things. Like watching old people play bacci ball in the park across from the Segrada Famillia, and watching people sailing RC boats in a random park I walked by and ended up sitting in for a couple hours, but I did sort of wish I had someone to share it all with. I wished when I was walking down "the most famous street in Spain" that I had someone to turn to and say "what's with all the birds" (they have stands on the street that sell birds of all types), or someone to laugh with about the fact that they were playing Santa Clause is Coming to Town in the restaurant I ate dinner in the first night. I'm not sure if it's Barcelona or me. I mean I feel kind of like Barcelona is a city that needs to be shared, experienced with others, but it could just be that my travel fatigue was taking over and I needed someone to snap me out of it. Either way, I'll go back to Barcelona one day with friends so I can really enjoy it the way I'd like to because it really is a beautiful city.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Granada Part I
Spain is the first place I've really felt a complete inability to communicate. I don't speak Spanish. At all. Of course I didn't speak German really when I arrived there and I didn't speak French, Itallian or German when I arrived in Switzerland, but in Switzerland I was with family half of whom did speak German which was usefull even in the Itallian speaking region and I knew enough German to not feel totally lost in Germany, plus I spent a large majority of my time in Germany at the Goethe Institut learning German in the company of people who, for the most part, spoke English. In fact they were all there to learn German as well so most of them spoke better English than German even if English wasn't their first language. I also, don't speak Czech but everyone in Prague spoke English or German or both so it wasn't too hard to communicate there. The only communication I needed in France was enough to order frites though I feel pretty confident that even if I hadn't been able to speak to people in French I would have been able to understand enough of it to get by there (the same as with German, from having taken it in school).
I feel like a deaf mute in Spain. It's not entirely bad, but it is a new experience for me. People who know me probably wonder how I manage to not have my head explode from the inability to communicate verbally. The truth is I'm actually quite shy and rarely speak to people who haven't spoken to me first so it's not too hard for me to go through a couple days not speaking to anyone. Or it would be easy enough if I didn't need to make any sort of purchases while I was here (my Spanish phrase book was no help what so ever in Barcelona when I needed to find somewhere to buy a new suitcase).
There are some destinctly pleasant aspects of not speaking the language though. In Granada not being able to speak Spanish afforded me the oportunity to have someone else order my food for me. Frankly even back home I enjoy having someone else order for me. I know this will get me in trouble with the feminist set but there's nothing better than having a cute boy order for you except perhaps having a cute boy order for you in a language you don't understand (especially if that language is Spanish).
Granada is beautiful. I can't decide if I like it better than Prague or not. The comparison is mostly unwarranted as the only similarity between the two really is that I love them both in similar ways. Part of that is the type of travel experiences I've had in them. In Prague, after the first miserable night, I took a guided tour and then spent most of the rest of the one day I had there just wandering around the city which was great. I've been having one of the better travel experiences of my life here in Granada though. I met up with a friend who took me out around Granada despite being sick. He was really great and totally willing to just wander around the city with me which is one of my favorite things to do. We went to a couple of really great tea shops that made me wish I could live in Granada for a while just so I could hang out in tea shops everyday.
Of course, I also went to the Alhambra which is just as amazing as you might imagine. The gardens there are awesome and it's springtime right now so everything is in bloom, poppies (at least eight different types and colors), gerber daisies, pansies, and wisteria hanging on every trelise and up the sides of every building. There were also orange trees everywhere (with fruit on them). It was beautiful. Yet I frequently found myself starring at the cobbled pathways under my feet. I'm oddly facinated by cobblestones for some reason. I liked the granite in Switzerland and Germany and I loved the marble in Prague, and in France, of course, the cobblestones were a big attraction, but the cobblestones in Granada take the prize. They mostly aren't cut blocks like the ones in any of the other places I've mentioned, they're just rocks of various shapes and sizes and types. There's marble, and granite, and quartz, and what looks like black basalt, all kinds of stone. Often there are patterns where stones of a couple different types have been placed to create designs but just as often they're is a totally random mix of all kinds of stones.
Prague is a huge city and Granada is pretty small in comparison but they both have intersting histories which could be part of why I feel a similar way about them. Visiting the palace in Prague was a lot like visiting the Alhambra (though the Alhambra is way more interesting) in that it is huge and took centuries to complete and has several different architectural styles and influences because it was built over such a long period of time. All of Europe has an astounding amount of history in comparison to the US but some parts seem to have more of it, they seem to have kept a certain soul (for lack of a better word) that other cities have lost. Prague is that way and so is Granada.
Granada, the Alhambra specifically, was the final place to fall to the Christian monarchs and as a condition of the surrender it was required that Muslims be allowed to remain in the city and practice their religion unharmed. As a result, according to my friend who's been living there for the past 4 months, the city still has a destinct arab quarter. That's an interesting bit of history that might have faded over time, in many other cities it would have, but not in Granada. I don't have a similar example for Prague but it's the same kind of feeling I had there, that the history is more intact there. Perhaps it's the fact that WWII history over shadows so much in a lot of Europe, especially Germany obvisoulsy (which is where I spent most of my time) and Prague and Granada don't have that. There's some war history in Prague, it was occupied by Hitler and there's interesting trivia about it (like the fact that Hitler made them drive on the right side of the street), but it doesn't dominate the historical landscape it's just one part of centuries worth of history.
I couldn't quite explain why Prague was special for me and I can't quite explain why Granada is either, but it is.
I feel like a deaf mute in Spain. It's not entirely bad, but it is a new experience for me. People who know me probably wonder how I manage to not have my head explode from the inability to communicate verbally. The truth is I'm actually quite shy and rarely speak to people who haven't spoken to me first so it's not too hard for me to go through a couple days not speaking to anyone. Or it would be easy enough if I didn't need to make any sort of purchases while I was here (my Spanish phrase book was no help what so ever in Barcelona when I needed to find somewhere to buy a new suitcase).
There are some destinctly pleasant aspects of not speaking the language though. In Granada not being able to speak Spanish afforded me the oportunity to have someone else order my food for me. Frankly even back home I enjoy having someone else order for me. I know this will get me in trouble with the feminist set but there's nothing better than having a cute boy order for you except perhaps having a cute boy order for you in a language you don't understand (especially if that language is Spanish).
Granada is beautiful. I can't decide if I like it better than Prague or not. The comparison is mostly unwarranted as the only similarity between the two really is that I love them both in similar ways. Part of that is the type of travel experiences I've had in them. In Prague, after the first miserable night, I took a guided tour and then spent most of the rest of the one day I had there just wandering around the city which was great. I've been having one of the better travel experiences of my life here in Granada though. I met up with a friend who took me out around Granada despite being sick. He was really great and totally willing to just wander around the city with me which is one of my favorite things to do. We went to a couple of really great tea shops that made me wish I could live in Granada for a while just so I could hang out in tea shops everyday.
Of course, I also went to the Alhambra which is just as amazing as you might imagine. The gardens there are awesome and it's springtime right now so everything is in bloom, poppies (at least eight different types and colors), gerber daisies, pansies, and wisteria hanging on every trelise and up the sides of every building. There were also orange trees everywhere (with fruit on them). It was beautiful. Yet I frequently found myself starring at the cobbled pathways under my feet. I'm oddly facinated by cobblestones for some reason. I liked the granite in Switzerland and Germany and I loved the marble in Prague, and in France, of course, the cobblestones were a big attraction, but the cobblestones in Granada take the prize. They mostly aren't cut blocks like the ones in any of the other places I've mentioned, they're just rocks of various shapes and sizes and types. There's marble, and granite, and quartz, and what looks like black basalt, all kinds of stone. Often there are patterns where stones of a couple different types have been placed to create designs but just as often they're is a totally random mix of all kinds of stones.
Prague is a huge city and Granada is pretty small in comparison but they both have intersting histories which could be part of why I feel a similar way about them. Visiting the palace in Prague was a lot like visiting the Alhambra (though the Alhambra is way more interesting) in that it is huge and took centuries to complete and has several different architectural styles and influences because it was built over such a long period of time. All of Europe has an astounding amount of history in comparison to the US but some parts seem to have more of it, they seem to have kept a certain soul (for lack of a better word) that other cities have lost. Prague is that way and so is Granada.
Granada, the Alhambra specifically, was the final place to fall to the Christian monarchs and as a condition of the surrender it was required that Muslims be allowed to remain in the city and practice their religion unharmed. As a result, according to my friend who's been living there for the past 4 months, the city still has a destinct arab quarter. That's an interesting bit of history that might have faded over time, in many other cities it would have, but not in Granada. I don't have a similar example for Prague but it's the same kind of feeling I had there, that the history is more intact there. Perhaps it's the fact that WWII history over shadows so much in a lot of Europe, especially Germany obvisoulsy (which is where I spent most of my time) and Prague and Granada don't have that. There's some war history in Prague, it was occupied by Hitler and there's interesting trivia about it (like the fact that Hitler made them drive on the right side of the street), but it doesn't dominate the historical landscape it's just one part of centuries worth of history.
I couldn't quite explain why Prague was special for me and I can't quite explain why Granada is either, but it is.
A woman's got to eat.
I promised a friend back home that I would take pictures of all the food I ate here in Europe and I've totally failed. I took one food picture. I can only attribute this failure to the fact that most of the food has not been worth photographing. In fact a lot of it wasn't even really worth eating.
I ate Schweinbraten in Germany and it was okay. I said to someone recently that chocolate, gummi candy, and beer were the only decent consumable products in Germany and that is pretty close to the truth. The goulash was also good, though goulash everywhere is pretty good. There was a restaurant just up the street from where I lived in Munich that had great food. They had one of the best salads I've ever had and they had excellent American style breakfast there which I actually ate one time (at about noon on a Sunday which is kind of an early breakfast for me).
I think the fact that I don't eat breakfast is where my problem in finding good food in Germany (and Europe in general) lies. Breakfast is a big deal in Germany and they do breakfast foods really well. They love bread, and jam, and eggs, and pork products, and dairy products, and muesli so they have the breakfast bases pretty well covered. The few times I did eat breakfast it was excellent. In Switzerland, Germany, France and Spain, breakfast was great.
In France I only ate twice, breakfast and frites and the frites were more of a novelty than an actually food item. They weren't bad frites but they were mostly good because I was eating them in France by the side of the road after watching Stuart O'Grady win the Paris-Rubaix. In Switzerland I had great food but that's because my family cooked every meal I ate there. In Germany I had great international food, good Indian, good Spanish, good Italian food, but the local food I tried to avoid after the first few days. In Spain I had paella in Barcelona which was pretty bad but I had a tuna sandwich there that was excellent and I had gazpacho here in Granada that was amazing. In general the food has mostly been better in Spain.
London has good food too actually. I'd been getting warnings for weeks, no more like months, about how awful the food in London is, but it's really not bad at all. It's not just fish and chips either, in fact the fish and chips are bad in comparison to some of the other food. Of course there's great curry in London, and sandwiches, but there's more than that. The food in London in general is pretty good. I'm looking forward to going back for a proper English breakfast (of fried potatoes, bacon, sausage, toast, baked beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, etc). I only just learned what black pudding is a couple weeks ago and it kind of freaks me out actually so I probably won't really eat that, but I'm told it's part of a proper English breakfast. Of course I'll have to find someplace that serves it in the afternoon as I don't really eat breakfast.
Perhaps I've stumbled on the real reason I loved Prague so much. I didn't have a single bad food experience there. They food was fantastic. Great salad, great goulash, and truly exceptional pancakes, it was all good.
I ate Schweinbraten in Germany and it was okay. I said to someone recently that chocolate, gummi candy, and beer were the only decent consumable products in Germany and that is pretty close to the truth. The goulash was also good, though goulash everywhere is pretty good. There was a restaurant just up the street from where I lived in Munich that had great food. They had one of the best salads I've ever had and they had excellent American style breakfast there which I actually ate one time (at about noon on a Sunday which is kind of an early breakfast for me).
I think the fact that I don't eat breakfast is where my problem in finding good food in Germany (and Europe in general) lies. Breakfast is a big deal in Germany and they do breakfast foods really well. They love bread, and jam, and eggs, and pork products, and dairy products, and muesli so they have the breakfast bases pretty well covered. The few times I did eat breakfast it was excellent. In Switzerland, Germany, France and Spain, breakfast was great.
In France I only ate twice, breakfast and frites and the frites were more of a novelty than an actually food item. They weren't bad frites but they were mostly good because I was eating them in France by the side of the road after watching Stuart O'Grady win the Paris-Rubaix. In Switzerland I had great food but that's because my family cooked every meal I ate there. In Germany I had great international food, good Indian, good Spanish, good Italian food, but the local food I tried to avoid after the first few days. In Spain I had paella in Barcelona which was pretty bad but I had a tuna sandwich there that was excellent and I had gazpacho here in Granada that was amazing. In general the food has mostly been better in Spain.
London has good food too actually. I'd been getting warnings for weeks, no more like months, about how awful the food in London is, but it's really not bad at all. It's not just fish and chips either, in fact the fish and chips are bad in comparison to some of the other food. Of course there's great curry in London, and sandwiches, but there's more than that. The food in London in general is pretty good. I'm looking forward to going back for a proper English breakfast (of fried potatoes, bacon, sausage, toast, baked beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, etc). I only just learned what black pudding is a couple weeks ago and it kind of freaks me out actually so I probably won't really eat that, but I'm told it's part of a proper English breakfast. Of course I'll have to find someplace that serves it in the afternoon as I don't really eat breakfast.
Perhaps I've stumbled on the real reason I loved Prague so much. I didn't have a single bad food experience there. They food was fantastic. Great salad, great goulash, and truly exceptional pancakes, it was all good.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
London will rock you
My travel schedule right now is very bizarre. I don't have time to let things sink in, or to write about them, before I'm in another new city. I was in London for a couple days, then Granada, now Barcelona. London is special for a lot of reasons but I can't think of anything to say about it because my brain only has so much space and it's now full of things I want to say about Granada.
Here's a few things I do remember about London:
The first day I did nothing but lay about and buy shoes and eat (an almost proper English breakfast for lunch and curry for dinner)
The next day we went out to the airport to meet a friend who was coming in from Seattle. We started out on the train, doing great, never having to wait for connecting trains, but then when we got to Paddington Station all the trains out of there were cancelled because of a fatality on tracks. We ended up sharing a cab to the airport with three random people which was fun as it was my first time in one of the famous London black cabs. I'd heard the story about "the knowledge", how London cab drivers have to study for two years and pass a rigorous test to prove they know the city inside and out and know all the best routes, but I didn't know that they have specially made taxis as well. Apparently the black cab is made with an especially tight turning radius so they can pull U-turns anytime, anywhere.
The following day was filled with typical tourist behavior. We saw Downing Street, the Houses of Parliament, and Westminster Abby. We rode up the London Eye. We took tea at Fortnum and Mason. We saw a show. We ate fish and chips. The show was actually the highlight for me. It was We Will Rock You and it was so much fun I almost couldn't believe it. I kind of want to see it again when I'm back there later this week, but will probably see Mousetrap instead and/or something Shakespeare.
Of course, I had a few occasions to ride on the famed London Underground as well. That was less fun. The London Underground is really far underground, so far that your ears pop on the escalator going down to it. I don't like trains in general. I get motion sick on vehicles of any kind and it's particularly bad on trains. I think the fact that the London Underground is so deep makes it worse because it messes with my equilibrium. It's not so bad when the trains aren't very full but when they are it gets really hot and the ventilation is bad and I don't enjoy it. Having said that the London Underground is kind of amazing in scope and it, like most mass transit systems, is the best way to get around the city.
I'll be back in London on Tuesday...well really on Friday night because I'm only back late on Tuesday night and then leaving again on Wednesday for Dublin. In any event I'll be back there and hopefully be able to say more about it. In the mean time, Spain.
Here's a few things I do remember about London:
The first day I did nothing but lay about and buy shoes and eat (an almost proper English breakfast for lunch and curry for dinner)
The next day we went out to the airport to meet a friend who was coming in from Seattle. We started out on the train, doing great, never having to wait for connecting trains, but then when we got to Paddington Station all the trains out of there were cancelled because of a fatality on tracks. We ended up sharing a cab to the airport with three random people which was fun as it was my first time in one of the famous London black cabs. I'd heard the story about "the knowledge", how London cab drivers have to study for two years and pass a rigorous test to prove they know the city inside and out and know all the best routes, but I didn't know that they have specially made taxis as well. Apparently the black cab is made with an especially tight turning radius so they can pull U-turns anytime, anywhere.
The following day was filled with typical tourist behavior. We saw Downing Street, the Houses of Parliament, and Westminster Abby. We rode up the London Eye. We took tea at Fortnum and Mason. We saw a show. We ate fish and chips. The show was actually the highlight for me. It was We Will Rock You and it was so much fun I almost couldn't believe it. I kind of want to see it again when I'm back there later this week, but will probably see Mousetrap instead and/or something Shakespeare.
Of course, I had a few occasions to ride on the famed London Underground as well. That was less fun. The London Underground is really far underground, so far that your ears pop on the escalator going down to it. I don't like trains in general. I get motion sick on vehicles of any kind and it's particularly bad on trains. I think the fact that the London Underground is so deep makes it worse because it messes with my equilibrium. It's not so bad when the trains aren't very full but when they are it gets really hot and the ventilation is bad and I don't enjoy it. Having said that the London Underground is kind of amazing in scope and it, like most mass transit systems, is the best way to get around the city.
I'll be back in London on Tuesday...well really on Friday night because I'm only back late on Tuesday night and then leaving again on Wednesday for Dublin. In any event I'll be back there and hopefully be able to say more about it. In the mean time, Spain.
Monday, April 16, 2007
The Road to Hell
I just spent 24 straight hours on a bus and can't begin to put a string of coherent thoughts together, but Paris-Roubaix deserves better so I will give it a try. I'll attempt to spin a yarn.
The bus departed at 11:30PM from Redbridge station in London. I spent most of the bus ride and ferry crossing (from Dover to Calais) sleeping as it was the middle of the (expletive deleted) night. We arrived in Compiegne at about 8:30AM and hung about watching the riders arrive and sign in. I planted myself in front of the CSC bus, of course, and took a bunch of pictures there and then, of course, took a picture of Boonen riding down to sign in because he looks so good in those tight shorts.
The next stop was a small town in the middle of nowhere. It's kind of amazing to stand by the side of a tiny road in a tiny town in France with hundreds of other people in the heat and the dust waiting. And there is a lot of waiting. I generally think cycling is better enjoyed on television where you can see all the action (no waiting), but there's nothing like seeing 200 guys ride by at 35mph. It's awesome in every sense of the word.
There's a book about Paris Roubaix called the Road to Hell and a documentary called A Sunday in Hell. I'm sure it lived up to that infamy this year. It was a 60 year record high temperature and astoundingly dry. I felt like I was melting and could barely breath from all the dust kicked off the cobbles and all I was doing was standing by the side of the road. I can't believe anyone makes it through the whole race, but in fact 96 riders finished it (16 less than last year).
The second stop was the Forest of Arenberg which is absolutely crazy. People everywhere, stands set up selling food, totally beyond belief. We stayed near the end of it and saw all the mechanics there. They just stand there with extra wheels (front and back), just in case. There are so many people on the sides of the road in the forest that if riders puncture (which they often do on that section of cobbles) they have to just ride it out and change wheels at the end.
I imagine you've noticed I haven't said much about the actual race action which is because I couldn't really tell you what was happening. They ride by so fast you can barely tell which riders you're seeing. I knew there was a break away fairly early on as one group came though ahead of the others at the first section of cobbles we stopped at. Then, of course, I knew things had spread apart into several groups after Arenberg, but I had no idea who was in each group. We were able to get radio coverage on the bus but it was in French. The tour guide understood it and told us some of the more major happenings on the road but I'm definitely looking forward to actually watching the whole race when I get back home so I can see what all happened.
We stopped and saw one more section of cobbles before going on to Roubaix for the finish. Most of the group on the tour bus with me just stopped in cafes or bars and watched the finish on TV, but I felt I had to go up to the stadium and see the circus. There were so many people there I could barely find room to stand so I went just outside it and watched the race come into the stadium and then went and bought frites. Even though I only spent about 16 hours in France I managed to fit in both bike racing and frites for a quintessential experience. Okay, I know frites are really Belgian and I have to admit I got ketchup on my frites instead of mayonnaise, mayonnaise alone on frites is just disturbing, but I'm still going to call it a quintessential French experience.
In traditional brit style we had a betting pool on the tour bus. Each Euro you put in got you one choice. I put in five and took Boonen, Cancellara, Ballan, Backstedt and Hushovd so clearly I lost five Euro, but it was fun.
I left Munich on Saturday morning to London then straight to France and back to London again. Spent around 40 hours travelling, dripping sweat in the sweltering heat and dust, without showering or changing clothes, but had a (expletive deleted) great time. There's no experience in the world like seeing European pro-cycling live in person. I fully recommend it.
The bus departed at 11:30PM from Redbridge station in London. I spent most of the bus ride and ferry crossing (from Dover to Calais) sleeping as it was the middle of the (expletive deleted) night. We arrived in Compiegne at about 8:30AM and hung about watching the riders arrive and sign in. I planted myself in front of the CSC bus, of course, and took a bunch of pictures there and then, of course, took a picture of Boonen riding down to sign in because he looks so good in those tight shorts.
The next stop was a small town in the middle of nowhere. It's kind of amazing to stand by the side of a tiny road in a tiny town in France with hundreds of other people in the heat and the dust waiting. And there is a lot of waiting. I generally think cycling is better enjoyed on television where you can see all the action (no waiting), but there's nothing like seeing 200 guys ride by at 35mph. It's awesome in every sense of the word.
There's a book about Paris Roubaix called the Road to Hell and a documentary called A Sunday in Hell. I'm sure it lived up to that infamy this year. It was a 60 year record high temperature and astoundingly dry. I felt like I was melting and could barely breath from all the dust kicked off the cobbles and all I was doing was standing by the side of the road. I can't believe anyone makes it through the whole race, but in fact 96 riders finished it (16 less than last year).
The second stop was the Forest of Arenberg which is absolutely crazy. People everywhere, stands set up selling food, totally beyond belief. We stayed near the end of it and saw all the mechanics there. They just stand there with extra wheels (front and back), just in case. There are so many people on the sides of the road in the forest that if riders puncture (which they often do on that section of cobbles) they have to just ride it out and change wheels at the end.
I imagine you've noticed I haven't said much about the actual race action which is because I couldn't really tell you what was happening. They ride by so fast you can barely tell which riders you're seeing. I knew there was a break away fairly early on as one group came though ahead of the others at the first section of cobbles we stopped at. Then, of course, I knew things had spread apart into several groups after Arenberg, but I had no idea who was in each group. We were able to get radio coverage on the bus but it was in French. The tour guide understood it and told us some of the more major happenings on the road but I'm definitely looking forward to actually watching the whole race when I get back home so I can see what all happened.
We stopped and saw one more section of cobbles before going on to Roubaix for the finish. Most of the group on the tour bus with me just stopped in cafes or bars and watched the finish on TV, but I felt I had to go up to the stadium and see the circus. There were so many people there I could barely find room to stand so I went just outside it and watched the race come into the stadium and then went and bought frites. Even though I only spent about 16 hours in France I managed to fit in both bike racing and frites for a quintessential experience. Okay, I know frites are really Belgian and I have to admit I got ketchup on my frites instead of mayonnaise, mayonnaise alone on frites is just disturbing, but I'm still going to call it a quintessential French experience.
In traditional brit style we had a betting pool on the tour bus. Each Euro you put in got you one choice. I put in five and took Boonen, Cancellara, Ballan, Backstedt and Hushovd so clearly I lost five Euro, but it was fun.
I left Munich on Saturday morning to London then straight to France and back to London again. Spent around 40 hours travelling, dripping sweat in the sweltering heat and dust, without showering or changing clothes, but had a (expletive deleted) great time. There's no experience in the world like seeing European pro-cycling live in person. I fully recommend it.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Aufwiedersehen Muenchen! Bonjour Paris-(expletive deleted)-Roubaix.
I'll try to censor myself a little, for those of you with delicate sensibilities, but it's hard to talk about leaving Munich without a few expletives. I'll also try not to be to sappy, sentimental or overly emotional, but at this I fully expect to fail.
Leaving is harder than I expected. Everyone said, "You aren't going to want to leave", which seemed so obvious as to elicit the sarcasm inherent in my nature. What I was thinking though is that I wouldn't want to leave Switzerland, Spain, London or Ireland. Not that I thought Munich wouldn't be great, but this part of my trip is obligatory. I mentioned a while back that, for a moment, I even felt like my time here was something to be gotten through rather than savoured. It's been all day, every day in class and I sort of expected to be glad when that part of my trip was over so I could get on to vacation, to London to eat tiny sandwiches and drink tea and see one of the coolest chicks in the world who I have never really gotten to hang out with much when she's visited Seattle, and on to Spain and the Alhambra and Segrada Familia and a friend who at one time I thought I may never see again and whom I've unexpectedly missed quite a bit since he left Seattle, and on to Ireland, a place I've wanted to visit for as long as I can remember, for Guinness and stalking Shane MacGowan with one of my best friends. These things, I thought, were the real trip and Munich was just the obligation I had to fulfill in order to get them.
I couldn't have been more wrong. Munich was amazing. It felt like home to me and leaving the Goethe Institut yesterday was one of the hardest things I've ever done, mostly because of the people. Leaving these people is like cutting off one of my limbs.
I love these boys like family. I've occasionally felt like I was pledging a fraternity, but in a good way. I kind of can't believe that tomorrow I won't be in the English Garden drinking beer and talking (expletive deleted) with them.
Here are some things I had planned to do but in Munich but didn't:
I didn't go to the Frauen Kirche
I didn't go to the new Jewish Museum or Synagogue
I didn't go to the Hofbrauhaus
I didn't go to the Pinakothek (Neue, Alte, oder Moderne)
I didn't go to Dachau
I didn't see the Allianz Arena
I didn't go to the Supersuckers show
I'm pretty happy with what I did do though which is meet some of the best people in the world. I've introduced you to the cast of characters a little already but let me tell you a bit more about these guys. It might make sense to put names with faces and drop the constant referral to people by nationality, but I'm sticking with it because it pleases me to see in writing what an international group we were.
There were two Swedes who I'd swear had known each other their whole lives when in fact they just met when we all did (two weeks ago). The first, who was in class with me, is like a brother to me now. Saying goodbye to him yesterday was the hardest part of my last day in Munich. It broke my heart a little. He was constantly teasing me (like any decent brother would), but he is also one of the most sincere people I've ever met. He's got a big heart. I'm going to cry again if I say any more about my new big brother. I miss him. A lot.
What can I say about the second Swede? He looks hot. I didn't have class with him but he was the center of the party every night after class. He may have a schmutzig mind but that's part of his charm. Only part though as he has a lot of (expletive deleted) charm.
There was another excellent Mench, from Mexico, in class with me. It was a bit of a novelty for these boys to see how drunk I would get. I'd told them that I was bad at drinking (which is a description I love and can't stop using since a new friend of mine from back home said it about me a couple months ago). My Mexican classmate, and kindred spirit, kept missing it though. Every time I set to really drinking he was somewhere else. So, instead of bonding in beer we bonded over faith, I think. I don't have a religious outlet for my faith like he does but I have a lot of it and we had some really interesting talks which weren't about faith directly but for me, and I think for him to, faith is always in the background of everything we do. I can't say enough good things about him.
The Italian/Swiss professor we're going to call Opa from now on. He wasn't that much older than the rest of us (I don't think), but he was the philosopher of the group, always imparting words of wisdom to us all, and always insistent that we try to speak only in German to each other so we would learn more. He was also very hard to say goodbye to.
In the Scottish lad I found a kindred spirit of a different type. That sounds like (expletive deleted) sentimental (expletive deleted), but it's really true. To say he's like a brother to me would seem close to the mark but slightly off somehow. He reminds me a lot of my best mate from back home and she's like a sister to me but to say he's like a sister to me is ridiculous, odd, and even further off the mark. He's one of the funniest (expletive deleted) guys I've met. He's another one with a schmutzig mind, but I don't know that I've ever met anyone less schmutzig at heart. He made fun of me when the Professor said I look into people's souls, but if he knew what I saw in him, which is a heart of pure gold, he might not have. Nah, who am I (expletive deleted) kidding, he still would have. He's not incapable of being serious but it's a rare occurrence. I tried to find a picture where he isn't making faces, but that is an equally rare occurrence (I think we can all agree he looks (expletive deleted) good when he's not (expletive deleted) making faces for the camera). Saying goodbye to him was hard to, it helped that I barely saw him on my last day so, in fact didn't really say goodbye to him, but even so it's hard.
My Swedish brother and the Scottish lad simply are family to me now. I'd do anything for them. I expect one day I may get a call from the Scott asking for part of my liver, as the boy (expletive deleted) drinks like a (expletive deleted)...well, like a (expletive deleted) Scott really. I wouldn't even hesitate. I love these boys. I can't explain it really. The brother analogy is a good one but it, like any analogy, isn't really precise.
This picture of the three of us may be my favorite picture from my whole trip so far. I'm so (expletive deleted) sad I can't (expletive deleted) believe it.
But now it's on to the Paris-(expletive deleted)-Roubaix, to London, and Spain and Ireland which are, of course, all just as exciting to me as they were before, it's just that my heart is a little broken.
Leaving is harder than I expected. Everyone said, "You aren't going to want to leave", which seemed so obvious as to elicit the sarcasm inherent in my nature. What I was thinking though is that I wouldn't want to leave Switzerland, Spain, London or Ireland. Not that I thought Munich wouldn't be great, but this part of my trip is obligatory. I mentioned a while back that, for a moment, I even felt like my time here was something to be gotten through rather than savoured. It's been all day, every day in class and I sort of expected to be glad when that part of my trip was over so I could get on to vacation, to London to eat tiny sandwiches and drink tea and see one of the coolest chicks in the world who I have never really gotten to hang out with much when she's visited Seattle, and on to Spain and the Alhambra and Segrada Familia and a friend who at one time I thought I may never see again and whom I've unexpectedly missed quite a bit since he left Seattle, and on to Ireland, a place I've wanted to visit for as long as I can remember, for Guinness and stalking Shane MacGowan with one of my best friends. These things, I thought, were the real trip and Munich was just the obligation I had to fulfill in order to get them.
I couldn't have been more wrong. Munich was amazing. It felt like home to me and leaving the Goethe Institut yesterday was one of the hardest things I've ever done, mostly because of the people. Leaving these people is like cutting off one of my limbs.
I love these boys like family. I've occasionally felt like I was pledging a fraternity, but in a good way. I kind of can't believe that tomorrow I won't be in the English Garden drinking beer and talking (expletive deleted) with them.
Here are some things I had planned to do but in Munich but didn't:
I didn't go to the Frauen Kirche
I didn't go to the new Jewish Museum or Synagogue
I didn't go to the Hofbrauhaus
I didn't go to the Pinakothek (Neue, Alte, oder Moderne)
I didn't go to Dachau
I didn't see the Allianz Arena
I didn't go to the Supersuckers show
I'm pretty happy with what I did do though which is meet some of the best people in the world. I've introduced you to the cast of characters a little already but let me tell you a bit more about these guys. It might make sense to put names with faces and drop the constant referral to people by nationality, but I'm sticking with it because it pleases me to see in writing what an international group we were.
There were two Swedes who I'd swear had known each other their whole lives when in fact they just met when we all did (two weeks ago). The first, who was in class with me, is like a brother to me now. Saying goodbye to him yesterday was the hardest part of my last day in Munich. It broke my heart a little. He was constantly teasing me (like any decent brother would), but he is also one of the most sincere people I've ever met. He's got a big heart. I'm going to cry again if I say any more about my new big brother. I miss him. A lot.
What can I say about the second Swede? He looks hot. I didn't have class with him but he was the center of the party every night after class. He may have a schmutzig mind but that's part of his charm. Only part though as he has a lot of (expletive deleted) charm.
There was another excellent Mench, from Mexico, in class with me. It was a bit of a novelty for these boys to see how drunk I would get. I'd told them that I was bad at drinking (which is a description I love and can't stop using since a new friend of mine from back home said it about me a couple months ago). My Mexican classmate, and kindred spirit, kept missing it though. Every time I set to really drinking he was somewhere else. So, instead of bonding in beer we bonded over faith, I think. I don't have a religious outlet for my faith like he does but I have a lot of it and we had some really interesting talks which weren't about faith directly but for me, and I think for him to, faith is always in the background of everything we do. I can't say enough good things about him.
The Italian/Swiss professor we're going to call Opa from now on. He wasn't that much older than the rest of us (I don't think), but he was the philosopher of the group, always imparting words of wisdom to us all, and always insistent that we try to speak only in German to each other so we would learn more. He was also very hard to say goodbye to.
In the Scottish lad I found a kindred spirit of a different type. That sounds like (expletive deleted) sentimental (expletive deleted), but it's really true. To say he's like a brother to me would seem close to the mark but slightly off somehow. He reminds me a lot of my best mate from back home and she's like a sister to me but to say he's like a sister to me is ridiculous, odd, and even further off the mark. He's one of the funniest (expletive deleted) guys I've met. He's another one with a schmutzig mind, but I don't know that I've ever met anyone less schmutzig at heart. He made fun of me when the Professor said I look into people's souls, but if he knew what I saw in him, which is a heart of pure gold, he might not have. Nah, who am I (expletive deleted) kidding, he still would have. He's not incapable of being serious but it's a rare occurrence. I tried to find a picture where he isn't making faces, but that is an equally rare occurrence (I think we can all agree he looks (expletive deleted) good when he's not (expletive deleted) making faces for the camera). Saying goodbye to him was hard to, it helped that I barely saw him on my last day so, in fact didn't really say goodbye to him, but even so it's hard.
My Swedish brother and the Scottish lad simply are family to me now. I'd do anything for them. I expect one day I may get a call from the Scott asking for part of my liver, as the boy (expletive deleted) drinks like a (expletive deleted)...well, like a (expletive deleted) Scott really. I wouldn't even hesitate. I love these boys. I can't explain it really. The brother analogy is a good one but it, like any analogy, isn't really precise.
This picture of the three of us may be my favorite picture from my whole trip so far. I'm so (expletive deleted) sad I can't (expletive deleted) believe it.
But now it's on to the Paris-(expletive deleted)-Roubaix, to London, and Spain and Ireland which are, of course, all just as exciting to me as they were before, it's just that my heart is a little broken.
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