Awake to London

9-21-2008

With a fresh night of sleep in me, I awoke to a beautiful morning in Central London. Out my window I could see Regent’s park, and it was calling my name.

 

Went for a run in Regent’s Park right off the morning.  I’d been waiting for this run for a good year. It felt great. Friendly British people around every corner and plenty of room to breathe.

 

After the run, Chad, Luke, and I caught breakfast with Rupert, our fabulous bus driver, and said our goodbyes with him. Unfortunately, the rest of today wasn’t anything extremely exciting: got our internet set-up, blogged/journaled for a good majority of the day, oh and purchased a mobile. If you’d like the number, email me!

And Finally London

9-20-2008

Tickled pink is not only a terrible cliché phrase, but no where near describes how excited I was this morning. Yes, Paris was fantastic, but the entire time there all I could think was "London's only a day’s journey away"… and that’s what I’ve been waiting for.

We bussed to passport control. They stamped us into the country and from there, Rupert drove us onto a ferry that took us across the English channel.

From the ferry, just two hours stood between me and London! Longest two hours ever.

We finally arrived at the International Students House.  Luke, on of my roommates, arrived earlier that day with a few other students. We met up with them and as soon as we got our room keys, we were off to get settled in room 179 of Mary Travellian Hall.

As we got moved in, Chad poured Luke, himself, and me a shot of whiskey. We each took a moment to say what we had to say, why we are here, what we are looking forward to, and what we are expecting. That burning sensation on the back of our throats served as a pact that this semester was going to be the best of our lives.

That night consisted of us running to Tesco to pick up a few groceries and of course, some alcohol to celebrate our new arrival.

A Final Paris Goodbye

9-19-2008

Around 10am Jenny and I headed back to the Lourve for round two, and this time it was open. We had to “manipulate” the date on our museum passes, a.k.a writing in dark letters over the old date, because they were only good for two days and we needed a third. And the third day was totally worth it. We caught quite a few wonders that we would have missed entirely:

Following our final Lourve experience, Jenny, Cody and I also partook in our final Flunch experience, which for me was a good thing. I’m not one to be picky about food quality (after all, I do work at summer camps where I douse everything in ranch just to survive), but I guess I was just disappointed we didn’t get meal vouchers to someplace more “French.” But I suppose that would have been more expensive so, whatever.

Following the Flunch, we went to the Opera house. Due to a rehearsal, we couldn’t get into the actually performance hall, but even the lobby area where we chilled for a bit was worth the journey. Supposedly, underneath the Paris Opera house is an actual subterranean lake which Phantom of the Opera is based off.  

We left the Opera House an attempted to make it to the catacombs across town, but arrived ten minutes late and hence missed the skulls, bones, and other dead parts of people.

After completing my packing for the next day, Jenny and I made our way to Sacre-Coeur, a cathedral in the north of Paris which is on a high hillside overlooking the city. Litering the steps leading up to the chapel were a gaggle of college aged younglings drinking, smoking, and all taking turns getting up in front of the crowd that had gathered there and butchering Bob Marley. It was a nifty sight.

The difference in views over the city from last night to tonight is quite notable.  From the Arch in the middle of the city, Paris looked beautifully lit and awe inspiring. From Sacre-Coeur, due to it’s altitude and distance away, Paris looked like a smoggy, grungy metropolitan city, which truthfully, it is. But at the same time, it is so much more than that. That city has an intangible quality that draws you to it. It is easy to see why it is known as the city of love.

On our way back to the hostel, we got a street-side Panini. We sat at an outdoor table right next to a French couple. As we ate, it became apparent that the couple knew no English and we knew no French. Every so often in our conversation, I just stopped and listened to them. Such beauty in their language.

As we sat listening to our neighbors chat, an unruly pub crawl walked long the streets next to us. Low and behold, a number of students from our group were on this pub crawl, so I got their attention by throwing garbage at Emma. We got pulled into the pub crawl and made it to a couple of pubs. Eventually everyone made it home alive, and got at least some sleep before our final leg of the journey to the United Kingdom.

Viva paris.

Just Another Day in Paris

9-18-2008

I awoke at 6 this morning in order to meet Jenny and Cody at 6:30 to make the walk to Notre Dame for 7am mass. Upon arriving, the beautiful cathedral was all locked up and we were made aware that mass didn’t start until 8am.  Thanks Jenny for the hour of sleep that I will never get back. Anywho, It seemed that’s when the rest of the town wakes up as well, because we walked around the church looking for a place to grab a light breakfast and it was slim pickings.

However, we did stop into a bakery that was just waking up. There I ate the most delicious croissant as it came almost right from the oven to my mouth. The bakery wouldn’t let us eat in the shop since he was still getting thing set up, so we had to bare the cold for a bit longer until they opened the cathedral. The mass was behind the alter in an intimate setting. I believe we were the only tourist there as the rest of the crowd looked like regulars who would be on their way to work right after mass.

Following that early morning experience at Notre Dame, we went back to the hostel, grabbed some breakfast, and then I needed a nap.

At 11:00 the whole group made the two block journey down the road to the Lourve, the place where art magic happens. Here I was able to take in more art than my body had room for:

Battle to the Death

This dude just reminded me of my dog

Yup, hieroglyphics

 

My imitation, ancient Bob Marley

 She's even more beautiful in person than I imagined she would be

No, I did not take a picture of the Mona Lisa. Rather, I took a picture of all the people trying to take a decent picture of the Mona Lisa. Yet because of the protective glass over her, no one ever gets a decent shot. She is much smaller than I  imagined her though.

Four hours in the Lourve later, I was getting some hunger pangs so we got some Chinese to go. I played it safe and got the sweet and sour chicken, but it was quite different than other sweet and sour I’ve had before, mostly because it wasn’t breaded. I almost preferred it. I love those little unexpected differences. They’ve been coming at me a mile a minute since I’ve started these past two weeks of Euro madness. But the little surprises that make you say, “ohh, I wasn’t expecting that” engrain the roll-with-the-punches mentality into your every day. Once you can confidently say “I’ll take each day as it comes and not sweat the details,” you days get much more enjoyable.

After a short nap, Jenny and I attempted to take in the Lourve around two. However, it was closed. The gift shop was open however and I purchased the best children’s book of all time My Little Louvre.

We watched as the night began to consume the Paris sky. We walked along a park by the Louvre watched the fountain and made up stories about the statues with we knew nothing about. For example, this fella is doing the morning-after walk of shame. 

We watched the sunset over the city from a high point in the park. We ate our first Nutella Creepe.  We walked down the Avenue Kleber to the Charles de Gaulle Etoile Arch. From the top of this famous Paris landmark you can see all the city in all of it’s splendor.

Following that we went to an extremely untouristie part of town where we each got a fabulous panini sandwich. By this time, it was midnight thirty, so we decided to make the journey back.

Once we got out of the underground station, Jenny and I spun around like a couple of lost tourists, because at that moment we were. Just then a kind woman came up behind us and said, “excuse me, I help you. Where you need to go?” We were blown away. This kind lady saw some confused American tourists and stopped to help us without our even asking.

She pointed us back in the direction of Notre Dame. We knew once we got there we’d be able to find our way back. What we didn’t know was that at 1:00 in the morning a film crew would be setting up for the shooting of what we assumed was a hip hop music video. At first, we thought they were sending off weather balloons. But it turns out the large balloons were for lighting. We saw a group of hip hop dancers warming up and watched as the crew set up their monitors, cameras, lights, and all the accoutrement needed for a film shoot. We didn’t get a chance to watch the filming, as it was getting cold and time for bed.

Art and Paris

9-17-2008

At 9am this morning we took a bus tour around Paris. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting much from Paris. All I saw was one more city between me and London. However, this city took me by surprise. Partly thanks to Jenny and her ridiculous list of amazing things to do in Paris, and mostly thanks to this bus tour and our I’ve-smoked-since-I–was-twelve tour guide and her overly raspy voice. She pointed out so many amazing sights that I am looking at a trip back to the capital of France in the near future because I doubt I'm getting it all in over the next few days.

The tour ended at the Musee D’Orsay where I saw some of the most wonderfully moving paintings I’ve ever seen by some of the worlds most renown artists, as well as those that I've never heard of but fell in love with:

• Paul Helleu's Femme Assise Accoudee; pastel; a depressed woman staring at a bowl of apricots
• Odilon Redon's Le Bouddha; pastel
• Maximillien Luce's Une Rue de Parisen mai 1871; French Revolution war depiction, very Les Miserables-like
• Georges Lacombe's Iris; painting on a wood carving; blood pouring from a woman's breast giving life to flowers below
• Camille Pissaro's Chataigniers a Louveciennes
• Renoir's Etude ou Torse, effetde soleil; 1875, pools of light on a naked woman
• Henride Toulousey, captured a darker, more real side of life

Then I came across my favorites, mostly because of their popularity and my art ignorance: Seurat and Van Gogh.

Let's start with Seurat. One of my personal favorites has always been Sunday Afternoon on the Isle of Le Grande. After traveling halfway around the world, I've come to discover that this masterpiece is just a 3 hour drive from Green Bay. I should have gathered that from watching Ferris Bueller. Anywho, Seurat, wow, brilliance. For those of you who may not be firmilar,  Georges-Pierre Seurat is the master of pointillism, the use of tiny dots blended together to create an image. And while "Sunday Afternoon" is in Chicago, his studies on it are in the Musee D'Orsay. In his studies, one can get up close and personal, and see that his points in this particular painting are more like hash marks, but still stagnant points. 

Walk down the hall from the "Sunday Afternoon" studies and one will find another Seurat that trumps any piece down that corridor: Le Cirque. I was not expecting to see this puppy, but sweet sassy malassy am I glad I did. Here, Seurat is still very much using pointillism yet here his hash mark-like strokes give movement to this lively big top scene. 

Following Seurat were the Van Goghs: his self portrait and his chamber. The eyes of Van Gogh's self portrait are world renown and to be staring right back at him stirs a belittling feeling really. He's just so damn good. However, you turn around and look at his chamber picture and realize that the poor guy was just a lonely artist with only his paint and imagination to keep him happy. All I could think when I looked at his works were "Bring on the Paint!" Up close, it looks like the globs of paint are just barely holding on to the canvas, almost as if they are going to fall off under their own weight. 

After the Musee D'Orsay and during it really, I was on my own. I got an awesome sammich, walked to Paris' oldest cathedral, the Natural history museum (which my museum pass didn't get me into but it had a cool park), and then to the Pantheon where I saw the crypt of Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables. 

I walked and shopped with Chad, Mike, Jenny, & Cody. Then the guys ditched the ladies and did a little shopping of the metro manly type. We walked past  Roman ruins in the middle of the city, just like in Verona, and saw a bum with a bag full of cats who hates tourists. 

At midnight that night it was Chad’s birthday. We tried clubbing but failed and settled for two bottles of wine at a little cafe, plus a little birthday treat for Chad. Good day. 

First Night in Paris

9-16-2008

Ten minutes in Paris and the French police were already on our tail. Our hostel was down a tiny one-way street and when our bus plugged up that intersection, the po was on us like a pack of dogs on a two legged cat. We all threw our bags out from under the bus and Rupert got the bus out of there with time to spare.

We found our rooms, which were a bit tighter than previous accommodations. However, our room looked out onto an open air courtyard, so I really couldn’t complain.

Lucky us. Two of our three meals a day in Paris were covered, our breakfast at the hostel (where they couldn’t have been more anal about trays) and dinner at Flunch, a fast food-like cheaper quality Perkins of France. After moving in, we made our way to this Flunch place and ate our fill.

Later that night, a small group of us purchased the cheapest bottles of wine we could find and made the journey along the Seine River to the Eiffel Tower. I can’t think of a better way to start my stay in Paris. As we walked we took in the sights along the river. As if the city wasn’t lit up beautifully enough, the tour boats cruising up and down the Seine had huge spotlights that blinded us as they drove by. However, they did light up much of the shadowed beauty around us. We passed by some late night djembe players, which is a typical sight in a metropolitan city, but in Paris it was all the better.

We walked passed the National Assembly Building. During the day, it just looks like another government building with it’s tall columns, relief carvings on the top, and statues outside the gates. At night, though, there is a fantastic film that projects onto the outside of the building. It’s a well thought out historical, political, tribute-like video that cycles every 20 minutes or so. We stared at that for a while and moved on.

There was a park close to the tower where we passed a group of students who needed to borrow our bottle opener. In the 10 minutes we stopped to chat with them I broke my bottle opener and cracked the bottle of my cheap ass chardonnay. Luckily Chad had another bottle that we could consumer underneath the tower. Because let’s face it, what is an evening underneath the Eiffel Tower without at least one bottle of wine.

You’d think that the Eiffel Tower would be a shining beacon that you can get to, and from far away it is. But there’s a point when you are walking to it that the buildings cover it up. You have to keep walking until you reach an alley that looks up to it. But it really isn’t hard to find and when you do, it’s all worth it.

Currently, France is in charge of the European Union (from my understanding, the Union leader switches every 6 months). Because they are in charge of the Union, they’ve decided to celebrate. One way is by lighting the Eiffel Tower up with a vibrant blue as opposed to the traditional white. On one side, the European Union stars circle the tower’s center. The best part of this iron tower, every hour it sparkles like Tinkerbell for a good 10 minutes. It’s a breathtaking sight. While pictures will never do it justice, I’ll post one so ya’ll can get the gist. 

And for something you may not know about the Eiffel Tower. Sure, it can be romantic to sit underneath this beautifully lit beacon of love, but just watch out for the rats scurrying about from bush to bush along the lawn below....

More Busing

9-16-2008

Ah, group pictures. We took one this morning in front of lake Geneva and hit the road for a ten hour trip to Paris. Bah. This bus is boring me, but good company makes it better. Until Paris. 

Around Montreux and Vevey

9-15-2008

The usual Euro hostel continental breakfast awaited us as we rolled out of our bunk beds. Just like Salzburg, six guys to a room...how exciting.

At 9:30 a group of us took the 10 minute walk down the shoreline to the Castle Chillon.  I absolutely love when the I can climb the tower of a medieval castle and look over a relatively modern city, even though it is a bit uppity.  

We learned of a unique story of Lord Byron, a six-year-prisoner of this castle who was chained in the lower level of castle and could only entertain himself by listening to the gentle thrumming of the waves against the castle wall. Students of the 60’s came to romanticize this prisoner and glorified his name.

From the castle we journeyed onward around Montreux, seeing what was to be seen: street art, the beautiful surroundings, and of course a tribute statue to Queen's lead singer Freddie Mercury.  Eventually, a smaller group of us hoped a bus to the next town over, Vevey. We were attracted to this small town because of a city-wide art exhibit called Images, a photography exhibit that placed life-size pictures all over the city.

Cody, Jenny, Shannon, and I began a mission to find a Swish chocolate shop. During our search, we stopped into a small pastry shop to sample some local flavor. I had a light pie crust of a pastry with a chocolate glaze-like frosting on top. Jenny sampled a delectable cupcake, and Cody won the prize with a tiny strawberry treat in a keesh-like crust.

We walked along the shoreline a bit in Vevey and it was here that I feel in love with swans. 

Once we had seen enough of Images, we decided a boat ride back to Montreux would be the perfect way to take in Lake Geneva. I’ll let a picture do the talking on this one.

I inhaled dinner at the hostel and then took a walk outside. At that moment, I was taken back 8 years by one simple sound, a shitty guitar player. Right next to our hostel was a row of storage garages. In one, two Swish high school students were fumbling their way through Metallica, AC/DC, and many other American favorites. Mike had already made friends with these guys. So him and I joined in on their jam. It took me back. Madris laid down a fat bass line, and I played what came to me. No technical music theory was necessary, just playing what comes. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do that. No complicated thought, just music. They were the coolest guys and didn’t mind taking some time to entertain some foreigners, even when Jim sat in on the kit and broke their drum sticks. Music truly bridges boarders.

After the jams, we journeyed to what we heard was going to be a place for live jazz/salsa music, but when we walked in and heard recorded country, I turned and walked out.  Jenny, Cody, and I, determined to find live music, walked for a bit, but alas, we didn’t find any. However, the night got much more interesting once we entered the Montreux Casino. I pulled 100 Fancs out of the cash machine and hit the roulette tables. Thanks to Jenny’s beginners luck , I made 50 Francs on the night. I like Switzerland. Until Paris!

En Route to Montreux

9-14-2008

Today consisted of a nine hour bus ride to Montreux, Switzerland. Long would be one way to describe it. However, Mya kept me busy with her stencils and puppy sticker book. Plus, the scenery during the ride made the time go by a touch faster. That and our childish game of telephone which Mya talked us into. Here were some of the choice phrases:

Mia’s puppies poop pretty flower pedals.

A horse smells like mud, muds smells like trees, and tress smell like poop?

Verona scalops taste like pumpernickel flavored rabbit meat.

Upon arriving, we had a hearty meal at the hostel. My legs needed some serious stretching out, so I went for a serious run around Montreux: down the lake shore path and eventually turned to run straight up whatever stairs I could find. I ran up & up until I was ready to puke, found a park, and stopped to take in all that was around me.

As I stretched in the park, I could help but to notice a young (mid-20s) woman across the park on a little kid’s bouncy horsey. Her and I were the only ones there. All I could think as I sat, starring at the lake Geneva shoreline was, “I wish I could speak French.” Not to hit on her or anything like that, but to simply talk, get to know someone. I’m envious of my friend Mike on this trip as he is bi-lingual in Spanish and English, and his Espanola is carrying over well into Italia.

Anywho, I got back to the hostel, showered. Then Jim and I walked about Montreux with a few beers and gawked at the “Door-County-WI-like” ritziness of this mountainside town. The only cars: Porches, Merecedes, BMWs, and a Toyota Prius thrown in for the cheapies. Until tomorrow.

Montova, the poor man's Florence

9-13-2008 

Today I, along with seven others, woke up at 5:30 and left at 6:00 for an hour and a half walk to the Verona bus station. Our intent was a catch a train to Florence to take in the sights there. However, the astronomical cost of about  €120 round trip was going to break our banks. So after a quick look in a travel guide book, we decided a €6 round trip ticket to Montova would be a better decision, and it certainly was.

Since day one, we’ve been seeing some amazing sights. However, many of them tourist destinations. Montova was just a town. The most touristie thing we did was visit the cathedral, La Catterdrale – Duomo, and the archeological museum. We stopped at an courtyard/park in which the only sign told you the many things you could not do. From the sign we gathered all you could do is sit and watch the grass grow and throw your liter in a trash can.

 Other than that we sat down at a café, had lunch with a few bottles of wine, and watched an intense storm roll in. The plaza where this café was located just so happen to be the location of Montova’s volunteer fair. The entertainment was a 12 piece orchestra. They accompanied the storm’s decent into Montova.

We shopped at some sweet little stores, until they all closed for lunch.

We chilled for a few hours waiting out the storm and by 13:00, we decided it was time to grab a train back to Verona. Our morning journey was just the chill time we all needed, and we got to take on a new city in Italy.

The rest of my day consisted of a nap, dinner, and hanging out with a huge group of Italian students and volunteers who were having their annual convention at our hotel. Many of us ended up hanging out with them for the majority of the night. I even got dragged into a crazy ice-breaker game some of them were playing.

It was called Maifesto: some people are the manifestation others are the police. The manifest peeps all jump into a pile on the floor and grab on to each others’ limbs, torsos, hair, pants, whatever you can get your hands on. The police then come in and try to break up the manifestation via pulling, twisting, tickling, just about anything, excluding a crowbar.

 After that ridiculously awkward game, many of us spent the rest of the night on the lawn in front of the hotel with these students from around the world, just drinking, playing guitar, hanging out, and finding out just how similar we all are….

A City Called Venice

9-12-2008

We boared the bus at 8:00 this morning and left at 8:15 for the tourist conquered city of Venice. Bad morning. We arrived in Venice a hour later than we wanted due to a city official that wouldn’t give clearance to our bus driver unless we had a beautiful woman to go to the counter with him...which sadly enough is a common theme throughout our day in Venice.

Because we were late, we got a quick half hour tour with our guide and all any of us could think throughout the tour was, “it’s way too hot here,” and it truly was, somewhere near 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

After the short tour we journey to La Rialto, a popular shopping plaza. While there, my buddy Mike was walking behind me and suddenly I hear him shout ridiculous amount of Spanish at a very rapid rate.  I turn around to see him hugging a Mexican friend of his that just so happen to be in town for an architecture exhibit in which he was presenting. His name was Jorje. He came with our group to a quaint little Jazz pizzeria where according to the sign they would have live jazz.  If by live they meant recorded jazz that was live in the 1930’s, then the sign was not false advertizing. With a Fanta to wash it down, we all sampled some of the best pizza we’ve ever eaten. I had a pizza with hamon, which was the most flavorful ham I’ve ever eaten. The fat was woven in with the meat making it all the more flavorful. I could just picture a happy little piggy running around the Italian country side. Making my meal all the more delicious.

We saw what was to see all around Venice, ate some Gelato, and eventually took a gondola ride. While it was a touch pricy, €150, it was worth it to see Venice from their water streets. Our driver was great as he pointed out great things to see and was very talkative. He even went to Vegas and showed those fake gondoliers at the Venecian how it’s done for real.

A storm rolled just as we finished our ride through the narrow waterways for Venice. As the thunder rolled and lightening lit up the sky, we stopped into the many blown glass art and masquerade shops. One of my favorite glass art pieces was a full mini orchestra complete with little spectators.

Before too long, the storm let up and we took another look around the city. Jenny and I made it up to the second floor of St. Marco’s Cathedral and got a great view of the port. As we waited for our boat bus, a few of the girls bought some knock-off purses from guys on the street.

On the bus ride back, I stenciled a bomb garden scene with the group leader’s daughter Mya. I should be an art major.

A Day in Verona

9-11-2008

The hotel we are at in Italy has a fantastic continental breakfast, probably because it’s an actual hotel opposed to a hostel, the Centro Carraro: Turismo e Convegni. We bored a bus after our apricot-filled croissants, fresh cappuccinos, and cereal, then headed into the heart of Verona. 

We met with a fantastic tour guide, Christiana, right next to the ancient Anfiteatro Arena, which at the time we were visiting was being set up for a performance of Notre Dame de Paris. Even with the modern seating and staging which was in place for the opera/musical season, I could walk up to the top of this massive arena, look down, and put myself in the shoes of an Roman spectator, watching as beast, men, and blood entertain the crowd around me. As explained by Christiana, a spectator of today’s football Americana, football, or any other sporting event is not much different than a spectator of Roman games: there were conversations about who was injured/performing well/etc., bets were placed on who would win, and each contender had his streak of winning or loosing. The only difference is that loosing often meant death.

 Perhaps the most impressive part of this arena, to me anyway, is that it is still used today, unlike the Coliseum in Rome.

Christiana wove us through the tiny alleyways of Verona with a thorough explanation of most everything we saw along the way.  Some of the most interesting parts of this Italian city were below our feet. First, the recycled stone that is everywhere in this city. Much of what was used to make the more “modern” structures, which are still 500-years-old, were made from older Roman ruins.  The arena also had an outer wall which was used as the city’s personal quarry when restructuring parts of the city over the centuries. Even parts the streets were made of ancient stone. In certain sections, you could look down at a stone slab and see fossils in the rock, many of which we would have missed without Christiana. The most interesting part of Verona, to me anyway, was the ancient Verona 20 meters below our feet.

Verona truly is the recycled city. Streets we built up on top of other streets and buildings upon other buildings. Every time they would build new, they would build on top of the old. If new Verona were torn up, the Verona of old would reveal itself, and often it does. We walked past an excavation that was only dug up because it was intended to be a parking garage, but is now an archeological dig. 

With the help of Christiana we learned much of this fantastic city, even learned how to tell the illegal tour guides from the official ones like her. Ohh and she showed us Juilet’s house and even more recognized, her balcony. 

 LARGE GROUPS, SMALL GROUPS, and INDIVIDUAL Touring                       (an academic required writing)

Throughout the tour thus far, I’ve had the opportunity to travel with different group sizes. I’ll be pessimistic now and get that out of the way. I hate traveling with the entire group.  Too many people trying to get through small places. Too many people to keep track of. Too many breaches in social graces. I wouldn’t say I’m embarrassed to be with a large group, but we certainly do stick out more.  However, there is really nothing wrong with that. After all, we are tourists, just like everyone else in these sight-filled cities. On the flip side of that though, even other tourists often carry with them a touch more tack than a large group of students. That’s why I prefer the smaller group.

Six to eight people tops, and even that can be a bit much. Four can be the best. Much quieter. Also, one can cater a small group to people with similar interests. We can stop in the same shops and not be bored out of our mind when one person wants to spend an hour looking at something the rest of the group isn’t interested.

Today I spent a good hour romping around Verona on my own, I did the same for an afternoon in Salzburg (see Segway pics). Solo travel can be extremely liberating. However, it’s always nice to be able to share your experiences with others. Plus, I really don’t have a problem with anyone I’m touring with. I feel as if I can latch on to any group of people and head out with them! Granted, there are those I enjoy spending more time with than others, but I can’t really complain about anyone one person or group.

CONTINUING WITH MY DAY IN VERONA: Once the tour was over and I cruised around by my lonesome for a while, I met up with a group for lunch at a lovely little pizzeria off of the main plaza of Verona. Here I had a few glasses of wine with a unique tortellini dish. No sauce smothered the taste of the beef inside the pasta shell like in America, rather the tortellini was lightly dabbed with an oil. At the pizzeria I also experienced an awesome lesson of group size dynamics.

 I walked in by myself and met up with a group of about 10. During lunch it was a bit overwhelming, as a broken glass covered the table at one point and the decibel level was higher than I would enjoy. Thank heavens, our waiter was super cool and understanding. As we finished our meals, of which I sampled everyone’s pizzas, pastas, and raviolis, this group was ready to move on, I however was not. I needed some chill time. During our meal Meredith and Becky came to the same restaurant and sat at a table for two out in the alleyway. I, along with Billy from the first group, decided to join them for a glass or two of wine.

Again, this group size is ideal. We simply sat and basked in the area around us. I love Meredith, because she has the sense to stop wherever we are, take a moment, and remind us all, “Hey guys, look at us. We’re eating at a sweet pizzeria in Verona.” I love those reminders. Lately, I’ve been getting better at reminding myself to take in everything myself, as opposed to taking it all in through my camera lens.

 We finished dinner and my group got even smaller as Billy and I parted ways with Megadeath (Meredith) and Becky. Billy and I were ready to cover Verona with our tracks, and we did.

We pointed at the highest point in the city and said lets go there, and we did. Along the way we stopped into some beautiful churches, one with a few priests sitting in the pews ever so quietly saying their prayers. I joined them for a second and asked God protect the souls of those lost 8 years ago on this day. That day is so vivid in my mind. As vivid as I hope this trip will be…

Billy and I made our way up a hill and got a great overlooking view of the city. On our way back down the hill we got in a bit of trouble. We hopped one gate to get down and inadvertently found ourselves in an outdoor Roman ruins museum. We continued down the path and ran into a group of museum curators who apparently had seen us jump that gate on security camera. He pointed to a security monitor and said, “saw you on camera.” He ushered us to the elevator and told us to leave. Which honestly was the easiest way down the hill! Sometimes playing the ignorant American helps quite a bit. Thanks Italian curator!

    

We met our bus at 18:00 and Rupert drove us back to the Centro Carraro. I couldn’t have been happier that we had a bus that day because Billy and I probably walked close to 10 miles or 16 kilometers.

That night we had a three course dinner at the hotel restorante. Starting with bread dipped in oil and vinegar. The appetizer was the best slice of lasagna I’ve ever had (sorry mom): rich and creamy, like pasta noodles held together in a square by deliciousness.  Following was the main course of pork cutlets with a lemon slice. Once the lemon juice covered each bit, the true flavor of the pork was exposed and my tastebuds couldn’t have been happier. Ohh and I did I mention I probably had the equvilient of one full jug of bianco vino  (white wine) to myself?

The night ended with a drunken online search of how a few of us were going to get to Florence for a day trip on the 13^th.  That ended in failure. However, our waiter, Bugs Bunny, joined us again for a few glasses.  

After those few glasses, the after party started on the front lawn with a huge group of Italian students.

Too Much Walking

9-10-2008

Our hotel is too far from Verona’s city life. We walked a good 4 kilometers. However, upon reaching our destination (which we decided upon while we were walking) all the walking was worth it. We enjoyed a mouthwatering dinner at an intimate pizzeria called Pizza a Metro Mamelia. Since I’ve wanted an authentic Italian pizza for years, I was fully prepared to throw down mass amounts of money for what seemed like a pricey place. 

We started with the purest water at €4 a bottle, moved on to two jugs of wine (a white and red), and had delicious dishes consisting of rabbit meat pasta, potatoes dumplings, my amazing mozzarella, feta, and ham filled calzone, and a few other pizzas that rocked any pie I've ever eaten in the states. 

Following dinner we got confused. I won’t say we got lost because we really weren’t. We were always on the right track, yet ridiculously confused as to where this river was which flowed along the road we were supposed to follow back to the classy hotel. As I write, I am sitting on the outside steps and ending my night with new friends (and our waiter who we affectionately call Bugs Bunny) and a few glasses. Viva Italia.

 

And now a little something from Kallie: I am the coolest person you will ever meet! Don’t even question it! Every day of my life is so amazing and  I hope I will never will never forget any moment of it, but I hardly even remember it…I don’t know what else to say, I’m that cool. I thought I was cool in America but Jesus Christ, I’m super cool in Europa.

En Route to Verona

9-10-20008

After a long night of little sleep we boarded a bus for Verona. More to come after our 7 hour bus journey.

Chill'n in Salzburg

9-9-2008

Today was the most relaxed day I’ve had on this tour thus far. Back home, sleeping till 9am is not sleeping-in. On a trip where I want to have every waking hour I possibly can, 9am is the new noon. Once Chad, Mike, Kris and myself grabbed a quick breakfast from the hostel kitchen Nazis before they took it all away, we gallivanted around Salzburg seeing what we could see.

We saw a panoramic painting a Salzburg by Johann Michael Sattler. The entire painting is in a little round room with 12ft high walls all around, freezing a frame in time of this great city. We checked out an art exhibit that traced the history of sin throughout western art. We bought some fresh fruit, found a stairwell that led to a courtyard overlook, and picnicked there. We stopped by a café to play rummy and have a drink. Then I did the coolest thing I’ve done in Europe to date: segwayed.

For a mere €15 I cruised up and down the Salzach River just people watching. Only, most people were watching me. Those things are suprisingly easy to get used to. 

My legs were sore afterward, but I think that’s because I was a little too tense. After a few more hours on that puppy, I would have been cruising around like Job Bluth (Arrested Development anyone?)

Later that night, we went to Hohensalzburg Fortress, the dominating castle overlooking all of Salzburg right from the center. There we saw a chamber music recital consisting of pieces by Haydn and the two Mozarts. It was truly a step back in time. Sitting, listening to two violins, a viola, a cello, and a fabulous horn soloist play in a room where people would have done the same in medieval times. Truly brilliant. While we were taking the cable car down from the castle after the concert, I chatted with the horn player and the first violinist. Both had studied at the prestigious music conservatory in Salzburg.

Following the concert, a few of us celebrated our last night in Salzburg by hitting up a few clubs: Blue Heaven (which we still think may have been a gay bar), Sega Club (where an Austrian who thought we were Mexican kept buying us shots), and eventually to a karaoke bar where the bartenders hand a micropohone over the bar and the singer sings from wherever he or she chooses. Salzburg = good time.

I am Alive and in London

What I've been waiting for.

Yes, I'm alive....and IN LONDON!!!

While in Verona and Monteux internet was more expensive and harder to find than I would have liked, and Paris was just too amazing to take the time out of the day to sit in front of a computer.

However, I took the time on our bus rides to journal and I haven't stopped taking pictures, so the following many posts will pick up right from where I left off in Salzburg. Enjoy catching up!

Ice in the Alps

9-8-08

"So Shawn, what did you do today?"

"Ohhh, nothing too exciting. Just hiked into a cave in the Alps outside of Salzburg and saw the largest ice cavern in the world. "

Typical European awesomeness.

For a tour we jumped on at the last minute, this excursion was one of the most awe inspiring sights I have ever seen in my life. From first stepping foot into Salzburg and gazing at the incredible landscape around me, I've wanted to see these

magnificent ranges around me up close and personal. I got to do that today. Not only see did I see them up close but I penetrated their exterior and hiked a kilometer into an ice cave. 

Every year when spring hits, the snow from the Alps melts into this cave. Cold winds enter into the cave and immediately freeze the layer of water seeping into the mountain to create layer upon layer of ice each year, until thousands of years worth of ice cover this mammoth cave. 

A short bus ride, a hike, a cable car ride up, and another short hike later, we were at the mouth of the cave. An extremely knowledgeable tour guide took us through the cave which gave the tour an added educational value which I always appreciate. But honestly, I was hiking into the Alps, which was enough for me. I didn't need to learn a thing and I would have been fine. But an education is always a bonus! 

Unfortunately, low light conditions led to poor pictures, but I'll post what I can as to share what I have experienced today. However, what made today (and most every day on this tour so far) great are the people I'm spending my days with. I knew one guy going into this tour, Chad, and the rest are basically complete strangers with the exception of getting to know them electronically via email. Now, I feel like I've known most of them for a lifetime. We are all in the same boat of willing to try new things, have new and exciting experiences, and go where, deep down, we may be afraid to go. But we're all doing it together, and while some may want

to go to Ice Caves, others an art gallery, and still others go on The Sound of Music Tour, at the end of the day we meet up and grab a pint together and share our days adventures. Which is exactly what we did tonight.

After a much needed nap (those caves were just overstimulating), weall headed to Shamrock, an Irish pub in Salzburg. We celebrated our day and anticipated the day ahead.

 Tomorrow sounds like it will entail a castle tour, some sinful art, and headlining the day is a symphony orchestra concert. I'm getting my sleep so tomorrow I can kick Salzburg's ass.