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).
Saturday, April 28, 2007
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.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Brothers in beer, kind of like brothers in law but more fun
I was really sick the earlier this week so I hadn't been enjoying Munich as much as I'd like to. In fact on Thursday I went straight back to my room and slept for 12 hours. Friday night though I decided not to let being sick stop me and I went out with the guys from my class for beers. It turns out beer is the miracle cure and I felt better the next day. Who would have thought that the morning after getting a little drunk would be the first morning in a week that I didn't wake up with a headache. So, I went out drinking beer with them again Saturday night and Sunday night and I feel a lot better now
It's an odd experience being the only girl in a group of guys. These guys are great. Gentlemen, every one of them. Always letting (in fact making) me go first (when ordering or getting on elevators, or anything really), and always opening doors for me. I go out drinking beers though and they're still complete gentleman but there's a pervasive guy tone to the whole evening. Picture if you will a 20 year old Scottish rugby player, two Swedish salesman, a Texan product manager, an Italian Swiss professor and me. Actually, don't bother, here's a picture of it. In fact several as I promised a photo montage with a narration something like this: Here we are at the English garden drinking beer, here we are at Augustiner drinking beer, here we are at the Schrannenhalle drinking beer, here we are on Marienplatz drinking beer, here we are in a restaurant who's name I can't remember drinking beer, here we are at Schloss Neuswanstein drinking beer, here we are the Schrannenhalle again drinking beer, here we are at the restaurant in my buidling drinking beer....
On the bus up to Schloss Neuschwanstein we passed a monestary and the guide was telling us what is there now (because it's not really a monestary anymore). He said, there's a meuseum, and a distillery, several restaurants and, as this is Bavaria, naturally, a brewery. That's exactly what he said, except he said it German. I know I joked about beer drinking being the only tourist activity left for me, with both opera and soccer tickets sold out, but there is a bit of truth in it. This is the beer capital of the world, origin of Oktober Fest, with 13 beer halls, where beer is often cheaper in restaurants than water. At the table next to us that afternoon on Marienplatz there was a group of elderly ladies drinking beer. Everyone, everywhere, at every time of day drinks beer.
Having said that though, we have done a bit more than drink beer the last few days. I've gotten to know some really great people this week. The group I mentioned above are actually only a few of them. There's the guys from my class as well (of which one of the Swedes, the Texan and the Italian professor are included). Mostly we've talked. We've tried to talk in German and when it failed us we've talked in English and those of us who only speak English have tried to learn phrases from the others in Swedish, Italian, French, Spanish and Japanese. The Swede from my class has become like a big brother to me. He's constantly taking the piss (you can thank the Scottish lad for the turn my vocabulary has taken and consider yourselves lucky I haven't been peppering this narative with the word fuck two or three times a sentence).
My new Swedish brother has tried to fix me up with every guy we meet and at least half our schoolmates. He, the professor and I had an interesting conversation about falling in love and being in love. They often look to me for the female point of view but I'm a bit of an oddity in some ways (than the average female point of view). According to the professor I'm very open which is true and I'm impressed that the French and Italian speaking Swissman was able to describe (in German no less - geoffnet madchen) after only a few days of knowing me, what I've only recently become able to describe about myself in my native tongue.
We also saw the castles (Neuswanstein and Linderhoff), hiked up a mountian (to get to Schloss Neuswanstein) and saw some of the Munich sights (including the river, twice). Outside the English Garden we saw a swan land in the middle of the road and proceed to cross the street (against the signal). I think a good time was had by all and will continue this week and hopefully beyond this week when we see each other in Sweden or Mexico or Switzerland or Japan or Scottland or Seattle or back here in Munich.
I'll leave you with another photo montage with a little less beer drinking.
Here we are in the English Garden looking for a place to drink beer, and here's the boys at the Chinese Tent in the English Garden, and the swan crossing, and me with my new Swedish brother, and me after a nice hike, and again with my new Swedish brother (you can totally tell in this photo that he was just teasing me, but then that's a constant so it can generally be assumed even when it isn't obvious from the photograpich evidence), and me on the bridge by Neuswanstein, and the Schloss.
It's an odd experience being the only girl in a group of guys. These guys are great. Gentlemen, every one of them. Always letting (in fact making) me go first (when ordering or getting on elevators, or anything really), and always opening doors for me. I go out drinking beers though and they're still complete gentleman but there's a pervasive guy tone to the whole evening. Picture if you will a 20 year old Scottish rugby player, two Swedish salesman, a Texan product manager, an Italian Swiss professor and me. Actually, don't bother, here's a picture of it. In fact several as I promised a photo montage with a narration something like this: Here we are at the English garden drinking beer, here we are at Augustiner drinking beer, here we are at the Schrannenhalle drinking beer, here we are on Marienplatz drinking beer, here we are in a restaurant who's name I can't remember drinking beer, here we are at Schloss Neuswanstein drinking beer, here we are the Schrannenhalle again drinking beer, here we are at the restaurant in my buidling drinking beer....
On the bus up to Schloss Neuschwanstein we passed a monestary and the guide was telling us what is there now (because it's not really a monestary anymore). He said, there's a meuseum, and a distillery, several restaurants and, as this is Bavaria, naturally, a brewery. That's exactly what he said, except he said it German. I know I joked about beer drinking being the only tourist activity left for me, with both opera and soccer tickets sold out, but there is a bit of truth in it. This is the beer capital of the world, origin of Oktober Fest, with 13 beer halls, where beer is often cheaper in restaurants than water. At the table next to us that afternoon on Marienplatz there was a group of elderly ladies drinking beer. Everyone, everywhere, at every time of day drinks beer.
Having said that though, we have done a bit more than drink beer the last few days. I've gotten to know some really great people this week. The group I mentioned above are actually only a few of them. There's the guys from my class as well (of which one of the Swedes, the Texan and the Italian professor are included). Mostly we've talked. We've tried to talk in German and when it failed us we've talked in English and those of us who only speak English have tried to learn phrases from the others in Swedish, Italian, French, Spanish and Japanese. The Swede from my class has become like a big brother to me. He's constantly taking the piss (you can thank the Scottish lad for the turn my vocabulary has taken and consider yourselves lucky I haven't been peppering this narative with the word fuck two or three times a sentence).
My new Swedish brother has tried to fix me up with every guy we meet and at least half our schoolmates. He, the professor and I had an interesting conversation about falling in love and being in love. They often look to me for the female point of view but I'm a bit of an oddity in some ways (than the average female point of view). According to the professor I'm very open which is true and I'm impressed that the French and Italian speaking Swissman was able to describe (in German no less - geoffnet madchen) after only a few days of knowing me, what I've only recently become able to describe about myself in my native tongue.
We also saw the castles (Neuswanstein and Linderhoff), hiked up a mountian (to get to Schloss Neuswanstein) and saw some of the Munich sights (including the river, twice). Outside the English Garden we saw a swan land in the middle of the road and proceed to cross the street (against the signal). I think a good time was had by all and will continue this week and hopefully beyond this week when we see each other in Sweden or Mexico or Switzerland or Japan or Scottland or Seattle or back here in Munich.
I'll leave you with another photo montage with a little less beer drinking.
Here we are in the English Garden looking for a place to drink beer, and here's the boys at the Chinese Tent in the English Garden, and the swan crossing, and me with my new Swedish brother, and me after a nice hike, and again with my new Swedish brother (you can totally tell in this photo that he was just teasing me, but then that's a constant so it can generally be assumed even when it isn't obvious from the photograpich evidence), and me on the bridge by Neuswanstein, and the Schloss.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
My classmates are the yolk of the egg
So, this Monday began a new term at the Goethe Institut and I have a whole new class, a much bigger one this time. It's an interesting, and rather international group, all men (but for me). One from Mexico, one from Sweden, one from Ireland by way of Scotland, one from Japan and one from Texas. Most of them, lucky bastards, are going to be living in Germany for at least 2 years for work, hence the need to learn German.
The ex-pat lifestyle appeals to me. I suppose I wouldn't want to move permanently to another country, but for a couple years maybe. My flat mate from last week asked me if I'd be willing to move to Europe and I had to think about it for a minute, but ultimately came up with the answer I just gave here, that I would but not permanently. Of course, that was before I'd been to Prague. I love Seattle and it will likely always be the one place in the world that I consider home, but Prague owns a piece of me now and I'd gladly live there for a couple years. Or here in Germany. I'd just want to stay long enough to absorb all the little details.
There are things you expect when you travel abroad, stereotypes of each country that turn out to be true like the fact that Germany is very logical, and very organized, that's to be expected, and Prague is kind of the opposite, very disorganized. For example, in Germany there are stop lights at every intersection, often three, one for bike traffic, one for foot traffic and one for cars, in Prague way fewer intersections have traffic lights and I didn't see a single pedestrian signal there.
Somethings though, some of the details, are surprising. Like the odd fondness for eggs in Germany. At first I thought it was just because Easter is coming up, and certainly the colored eggs for sale are because of Easter, but they really do love eggs here to an odd extent. I saw this postcard the other day that had a picture of and egg and said, "Du bist das gelb vom Ei", which means, you are the yellow (or yolk) of the egg. Clearly intended as a great compliment, because the yolk is the best part of the egg, but really, as a sentiment for a greeting card it's a bit odd.
The affinity for pork in all shapes and forms is something I could probably do without. They really enjoy meat here and especially pork. Schnitzel, Schweinbraten, Wurst, etc. I mean I don't necessarily mind it but it's a bit odd. The fact that you have to go to one store to buy meat, another for dairy products, another for fruits and vegetables and a fourth for bread is also odd. The fact that all the stores are closed after noon on Saturdays and all day on Sunday. The fact that all the buildings have a 0 floor (it's not the first floor, it's the ground floor, the second floor is actually the first). The way people always say you're welcome before you've even thanked them. I would expect a conversation to go something like this:
"Kannst du mir helfen?"
"Natuerlich. Was brauchst du?"
"Ich brauche eine flache wasser."
"Heir ist eine flache wasser."
"Danke schoen"
"Bitte schoen"
That's not how it goes though. When someone is giving you something, your change after you've paid for example, their "Bitte schoen" always comes out before you've had an opportunity to say "Danke schoen". If I were to live the ex-pat life I think I'd have to go home, or move to another city, once I got used to things like that. Once I no longer noticed at least one thing per day that made me think, "Hmmm, that's different" it would be time to go.
Unfortunately for me it will be time for me to go long before I reach that point.
The ex-pat lifestyle appeals to me. I suppose I wouldn't want to move permanently to another country, but for a couple years maybe. My flat mate from last week asked me if I'd be willing to move to Europe and I had to think about it for a minute, but ultimately came up with the answer I just gave here, that I would but not permanently. Of course, that was before I'd been to Prague. I love Seattle and it will likely always be the one place in the world that I consider home, but Prague owns a piece of me now and I'd gladly live there for a couple years. Or here in Germany. I'd just want to stay long enough to absorb all the little details.
There are things you expect when you travel abroad, stereotypes of each country that turn out to be true like the fact that Germany is very logical, and very organized, that's to be expected, and Prague is kind of the opposite, very disorganized. For example, in Germany there are stop lights at every intersection, often three, one for bike traffic, one for foot traffic and one for cars, in Prague way fewer intersections have traffic lights and I didn't see a single pedestrian signal there.
Somethings though, some of the details, are surprising. Like the odd fondness for eggs in Germany. At first I thought it was just because Easter is coming up, and certainly the colored eggs for sale are because of Easter, but they really do love eggs here to an odd extent. I saw this postcard the other day that had a picture of and egg and said, "Du bist das gelb vom Ei", which means, you are the yellow (or yolk) of the egg. Clearly intended as a great compliment, because the yolk is the best part of the egg, but really, as a sentiment for a greeting card it's a bit odd.
The affinity for pork in all shapes and forms is something I could probably do without. They really enjoy meat here and especially pork. Schnitzel, Schweinbraten, Wurst, etc. I mean I don't necessarily mind it but it's a bit odd. The fact that you have to go to one store to buy meat, another for dairy products, another for fruits and vegetables and a fourth for bread is also odd. The fact that all the stores are closed after noon on Saturdays and all day on Sunday. The fact that all the buildings have a 0 floor (it's not the first floor, it's the ground floor, the second floor is actually the first). The way people always say you're welcome before you've even thanked them. I would expect a conversation to go something like this:
"Kannst du mir helfen?"
"Natuerlich. Was brauchst du?"
"Ich brauche eine flache wasser."
"Heir ist eine flache wasser."
"Danke schoen"
"Bitte schoen"
That's not how it goes though. When someone is giving you something, your change after you've paid for example, their "Bitte schoen" always comes out before you've had an opportunity to say "Danke schoen". If I were to live the ex-pat life I think I'd have to go home, or move to another city, once I got used to things like that. Once I no longer noticed at least one thing per day that made me think, "Hmmm, that's different" it would be time to go.
Unfortunately for me it will be time for me to go long before I reach that point.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Sunrise or Sunset: Prague
If I begin talking about Prague I may not stop so know before you wade knee deep in this blog entry that you might be here a while.
Prague is really a city. When I first saw it I thought maybe it was the first real city ever and indeed many of the tourist books call it "the mother of cities". I mean it's really a city.
The train trip to Prague from Munich is over 6 hours. That's half again as long as the trip to Hannover even though Prague is about half the distance from Munich. The train to Prague is a) much slower than the (ICE) train to Hannover and b) stops at every town on the way. However, I didn't experience my usual travel annoyance and fatigue, at least not for the first 4 or so hours. It was a mostly daytime trip so that helped, and I was excited about going to Prague. On that train ride I saw the most amazing sunset I've ever seen. It was kind of cloudy, more of a haze really than clouds, and the sun looked pink from behind the haze but not just any pink, the brightest pink I think I've ever seen, like the juice from a blood orange, only brighter. It was amazing.
When I was about 4 hours into the journey though, the sun had gone down and I was uncomfortable, and tired, and annoyed as usual. Then I got to Prague and found that my hotel was kind of far outside the city center and the cab ride there cost more than two nights at the hotel cost. Also, it was kind of uncomfortable, and depressing, and had a shower so small I could barely fit in it. To be fair, it was a really cheap hotel, but if I'd known it was going to be that depressing I'd have either a) stayed at a hostel which would have been just as cheap (or more) and just as uncomfortable but way more fun or b) paid more for a hotel closer...which is what I ultimately did for the second night.
In the morning I took a cab back to the train station, determined to find a hotel within walking distance of it, and found that the first cab driver had charged me more than double, but even the cheaper cab ride was still really expensive considering the distance and how cheap everything else in Prague was. I walked to Wenceslaus square (about a block from the train station) and first had breakfast. I had dessert for breakfast because I found Czech style breakfast to be way to meat focused for me, especially after Switzerland and Germany where, when I ate breakfast at all it was usually some kind of sweet bread and tea. This restaurant served an, apparently traditional Czech, dessert that is a type of pancake but it's more like a doughnut and it's served on a citrusy cream sauce with plum jam. It was awesome. Especially the plum jam. In fact I kind of wish I'd bought some plum jam in Prague, it was so thick it was more like a paste than jam and totally delicious. A jar of it would have been heavy though and I have to consider the luggage weight limit for my flight home.
After breakfast I found a great (four star) hotel right on Wenceslaus Square with rooms available and a last minute booking deal. Prior to breakfast I'd been starting to think that coming to Prague by myself was a mistake. So far, I've been enjoying my solitary experience in Europe. Things I love, like wandering aimlessly, can't easily be done when you travel with someone because you have to agree on what to do and see which usually means a plan of some kind, at very least a time and place to meet back up with them. I embrace the opportunity to not have any plan. I love it. So, by extension I love traveling by myself. However, Prague is a place that should be shared and when I first got there I wasn't sure I'd be able to enjoy it on my own. Four star hotels, staffed by cute Czech boys have a way of brightening things up though. My room was on the top floor with a balcony looking out on Wencelaus square. It was amazing and totally worth it, even if only for the opportunity to drink complimentary Bohemian champagne while taking a bubble bath.
I only had one day in Prague really and I wanted it to be both relaxing and full which is a fine line. I took a guided tour of the city (and the castle) which was great fun but made me wish I had at least a week there so I could have explored things for myself and gone to some of the (many) museums there. You do learn fun facts on a guided tour like the fact that the Prague castle is the largest in the world (It covers about 5 K and includes several chapels and palaces built by various different Czech kings), or the fact that Prague is home to the oldest synagogue in middle Europe, or the fact that the city of Prague proudly consumes more beer per person per year than anywhere else in the world (some of you may be getting souvenirs with "Prague Drinking Team" printed on them). There was a young German couple on the tour that I took so the guide said everything in both English and German which was nice and because his English was far more accented than his German. I was actually sometimes better able to understand him in German.
Architecture is a big deal in Prague. The guide on our tour was constantly talking about the architects that designed things. I wish I could remember any of it. I, in fact, am a bit crazy about architecture. I don't know the first thing about it, but I'm none the less fascinated. I like to take pictures of buildings from odd angles. I'll stand in doorways and take pictures of them. Perhaps I like taking pictures of buildings because they don't pose. I also love taking candid photos of people but when people see you're about to take their picture they always want to pose. Buildings don't do that. The Prague city tour was ideal for indulging my love of the inanimate. It seemed like at least half the buildings in Prague had some sort of interesting architectural history.
After the tour I just wandered around the city for a while. The Easter market was fun to see. Two shopkeepers asked me if I was Russian. That makes four times I've been asked that in the last year or so (twice in Seattle where I'm actually from) by people who've heard me speaking in American accented English. One of the guys in Prague that asked me pressed on after I shook my head and asked where I was from. I said I was from the US but he felt sure that I spoke something other than English (based apparently on my accent) and I told him that I spoke a little bit of German but was just learning it now. He was surprised that English was my first (and really only) language. I get it that maybe I look Russian because, in point of fact, I am a bit Russian (about an eighth if you can really deliminate race that way), but these people that keep asking me if I'm Russian seem to be basing it on my speech rather than my looks and that I find very odd.
Back to Prague though. It is a city of tourists. If I had to guess I'd say about 90% of the people on the streets in Prague are foreigners (either tourists or foreign students). However, whenever I did run into actual Czechs they were, with very few exceptions, beautiful. The Czech boys were super cute but I didn't find myself trying to catch their eyes because the Czech girls were so beautiful there'd be no competing with them.
I mentioned that everything in Locarno was granite so I feel compelled to mention that in Prague the streets were paved with marble...well, not the streets so much as the sidewalks and not paved, of course, but cobbled. The best were the sidewalks cobbled in alternating pink and black marble. I think cobbling sidewalks is the best use of marble, it looks so much better there than on counter tops or floors.
Prague, without a doubt, is a very beautiful city. However, it's also very dirty. Everything is covered in at lest ten layers of dirt and there is graffiti everywhere and pigeons. Okay, every city has pigeons, but not like the ones in Prague. I think they're way smarter than pigeons ought to be. There were many of them inside the Prague train station. Which reminds me, since I've talked about every other train station I should give some time to the one in Prague. Munich, Hannover, Braunschweig and Zurich all had big modern train stations. The ones in Munich and Hannover especially are bustling modern centers of commerce and transportation. Prague's train station, like every thing in Prague, is dirty. Also, it seemed to be more full of pigeons than people. I'm not quite sure why or how the pigeons get inside the train station. Okay, obviously, I'm sure how. All train stations are partially open to the outside, they have to be for trains to come and go, but I didn't see any pigeons in any of the other train stations I've been to, or even on the platforms at any of the others. Seriously, whole flocks of pigeons, just flying around inside the train station.
I'm coming full circle here and I am reminded of a question I see a lot online that supposedly tells people something about you. The question is, do you prefer sunrise or sunset. My usual answer would be sunset and having described in glowing detail how amazing the sunset was that I saw from the train on my way to Prague, you might expect that view to have remained unchanged. However, having seen at least one of each in Prague, I have to say that in Prague I preferred sunrise. The streets are still full of people at sunset, it's loud and it's the height of tourist activity. At sunrise, presumably especially on Sunday though I have no comparison, no one is around, it's quite and you're able to feel isolated even in this gigantic city that is so full of life and noise normally.
In an odd coincidence I've now been in the home cities of two of the authors I had to read for European Lit last quarter (in fact the only two I read all the way through). The Prague city tour took us by the former home of Franz Kafka and right here in Munich is the former home of Thomas Mann. So, raise your glass (of Bohemian beer) and drink a toast to truth and beauty and isolation, and to Prague.
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