Monday, October 13, 2008
Back to the Grind
Well, another fine vacation has come to an end. I'm back in my cubicle, recovering from jet lag and working for the man once again. But don't cry... there will be more vacations in the future, and more idiotic postings to the blog. So have faith... the Travelin' Fool will continue on... but it may be a while since I used up all my vacation time for this year. Nuts.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Four Day Traveling Frenzy
Hello again, everybody. Many of you may have wondered if we had fallen into one of Amsterdam's canals and drowned or got hit by a bicyclist since there's been a lack of postings these past four days. Rest assured, we are both alive and well... in Chicago, IL at the moment. Yes, the trip is almost over, I'm sad to say. Due to a lack of Internet access and a few odd hassles these past four days, I wasn't able to keep up with the blog. But now I'm back to fill you in on the gaps of our travels, and I better hurry... the jet lag is starting to set in. Here we go with the nitty gritty:
Tuesday evening: Violet, two Australians and I explored the Red Light District of Amsterdam. It was quite comical seeing slutty hookers in bikinis standing behind glass windows and knocking at you to get your attention. Honestly, I felt sorry for these women to have to stoop to this level to earn a living. I felt like giving them some good career advice, but it's kind of hard to do through a pane of glass.
Wednesday: We headed to the Amsterdam airport on a train. Five minutes after arriving, Violet realized she left her coat on the train... containing all her money, credit cards and passport. It's a total freakout. We ran back to the train, only to find it gone. We reported this to the train attendants, who said they'd have someone look for the coat on the train. Thirty minutes later, we rushed back down to the train that returned (which was supposedly our train) and looked for the coat. No luck. More freaking out. We reported this to the police, who shooed us off to catch our original flight to Frankfurt (amazing how Violet was able to board a plane without ID. Try to pull that stunt in America). In Frankfurt, we set up an appointment with the U.S. Consulate to get a new passport, and we spent the night at the downtown hostel (right next to the World of Sex. Very classy).
Thursday: We took the train early that morning to the U.S. Consulate and spent 2 hours getting a new temporary passport. The U.S. Consulate is like an international DMV. You get a number, wait for your number to get called, and after going back and forth a few times with the people at the counters, you come out with a new passport. Unbelievable. We both can't believe that all it took to get a temporary passport was raising your right hand and swearing that everything on the forms was correct. Feeling like we just got the Golden Ticket in a Wonka Bar, we took the next train to Boppard, Germany to have an adventure along the Rhine River. We stayed at a cutesy place called Hotel Bergschlosschen, ate well and drank beer and wine. A perfect way to end the entire passport fiasco.
Friday: We rented bikes and rode north along the Rhine River, hitting the towns of Spay and Rhens. It started out foggy, but cleared up, revealing the changing colors of the leaves. We found a castle just south of Koblenz and took a tour of it (completely in German. Other than "schloss," I didn't understand a friggin' word of it). We then biked back down to Boppard, took the Sessenlift (or chair lift) up the mountain and got a great view of the Rhine valley. Then it was back down in the Sessenlift and into town for more good food and wine.
Saturday: It was back to Frankfurt, then over to the airport to catch our flight to Chicago. We were stuck on the tarmac for over an hour as the flight crew tried to figure out an electrical problem. Then it was a nine hour plane ride into Chicago (oh, the insanity). Word of advice: don't ever, EVER watch the movie "Speed Racer." I wish I could get those two hours of my life back. Now we're here in Chicago at a cheapie hotel, but we just love the jacuzzi tub with the jet streams coming out of it. Makes it even better.
Catch ya back in Phoenix tomorrow!
Tuesday evening: Violet, two Australians and I explored the Red Light District of Amsterdam. It was quite comical seeing slutty hookers in bikinis standing behind glass windows and knocking at you to get your attention. Honestly, I felt sorry for these women to have to stoop to this level to earn a living. I felt like giving them some good career advice, but it's kind of hard to do through a pane of glass.
Wednesday: We headed to the Amsterdam airport on a train. Five minutes after arriving, Violet realized she left her coat on the train... containing all her money, credit cards and passport. It's a total freakout. We ran back to the train, only to find it gone. We reported this to the train attendants, who said they'd have someone look for the coat on the train. Thirty minutes later, we rushed back down to the train that returned (which was supposedly our train) and looked for the coat. No luck. More freaking out. We reported this to the police, who shooed us off to catch our original flight to Frankfurt (amazing how Violet was able to board a plane without ID. Try to pull that stunt in America). In Frankfurt, we set up an appointment with the U.S. Consulate to get a new passport, and we spent the night at the downtown hostel (right next to the World of Sex. Very classy).
Thursday: We took the train early that morning to the U.S. Consulate and spent 2 hours getting a new temporary passport. The U.S. Consulate is like an international DMV. You get a number, wait for your number to get called, and after going back and forth a few times with the people at the counters, you come out with a new passport. Unbelievable. We both can't believe that all it took to get a temporary passport was raising your right hand and swearing that everything on the forms was correct. Feeling like we just got the Golden Ticket in a Wonka Bar, we took the next train to Boppard, Germany to have an adventure along the Rhine River. We stayed at a cutesy place called Hotel Bergschlosschen, ate well and drank beer and wine. A perfect way to end the entire passport fiasco.
Friday: We rented bikes and rode north along the Rhine River, hitting the towns of Spay and Rhens. It started out foggy, but cleared up, revealing the changing colors of the leaves. We found a castle just south of Koblenz and took a tour of it (completely in German. Other than "schloss," I didn't understand a friggin' word of it). We then biked back down to Boppard, took the Sessenlift (or chair lift) up the mountain and got a great view of the Rhine valley. Then it was back down in the Sessenlift and into town for more good food and wine.
Saturday: It was back to Frankfurt, then over to the airport to catch our flight to Chicago. We were stuck on the tarmac for over an hour as the flight crew tried to figure out an electrical problem. Then it was a nine hour plane ride into Chicago (oh, the insanity). Word of advice: don't ever, EVER watch the movie "Speed Racer." I wish I could get those two hours of my life back. Now we're here in Chicago at a cheapie hotel, but we just love the jacuzzi tub with the jet streams coming out of it. Makes it even better.
Catch ya back in Phoenix tomorrow!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Up in the Nether Regions of Europe
Well, it's night #3 here in Amsterdam. We're at a new hostel this time: The Flying Pig Uptown. It's a confusing mess of staircases and rooms plastered with pigs wearing aviator goggles and propeller hats. There's a bar downstairs, and people are smoking up in the kitchen. Violet and I are starting to think that our hostel days are about over. You reach a certain point where you realize, "You know, I really don't want to have to deal with drunk-ass party kids anymore. I just want a room to myself where I can get some privacy." Must be a sign that we're getting old.
Anyway, back to the story at hand. After the wedding dinner and Elvis and the band on Saturday, Violet and I headed to our no-frills hotel down the street at about 1:30 am. We crashed hard. I awoke a few hours later feeling sick and realized that the Germans had unleashed WWII in my stomach with all their gastronomical delights. On Sunday morning, I felt a little better, but Violet didn't fare nearly as well that night. We met up with the bride and groom at the hotel for breakfast, then crammed all our stuff into their VW and headed off to the Frankfurt Airport. They took off for their honeymoon to the Dominican Republic, while Violet and I hopped a train to the city to bum around for a few hours before our flight to Amsterdam.
Frankfurt...was Frankfurt. It had some tall buildings and industrial parks, but not too much culturally to speak of. They had a nice "old town" section with buildings that reminded me of my time in Munich last year (minus the beer gardens). Lots of gypsies were out performing music reminiscent of the soundtrack from "Borat". Violet and I ended up taking a cruise along the Main River and checking out "Mainhattan" as the locals there like to call it. The prerecorded narration was so dry and boring that it about put me into a coma. Once our cruise was finished, we hopped the train back to the airport and flew the hour or so over here to Amsterdam.
At first glance when you're at the Amsterdam airport, it appears you'll have an easy time getting around the city since everything is in English. But once you get onto the train, everything changes and switches to Dutch, and you start having "Lost in Translation" moments. Dutch is nothing at all like any language you know. Even German is a cinch compared to Dutch. Violet had to ask for directions to the hostel several times since nothing was recognizably marked at the train station. I honestly don't know how we made it to our hostel. Call it blind, dumb luck.
The first hostel we stayed at was called the StayOkay, which has to be the dumbest name for a hostel I've ever heard of. The building used to be a dorm housing university or secondary school students. The breakfasts were nothing to brag about: bread, sour yogurt, granola and juice that tasted anything but fresh. And the rooms had rickety metal bunk beds in cramped quarters. After living a week in our own private room at Shane and Andrea's apartment, it felt awkward being thrown into a room with four other twenty-somethings. And the Flying Pig doesn't feel much different. However, the atmosphere here is much more inviting that the sterile institution-like feel at the StayOkay.
Amsterdam, however, is an incredible city. It's like nothing you've ever seen before with the canals, tightly-crammed buildings and bicyclists everywhere. Every day I fear for my life, thinking a tram, car or bike will run me over. We took a boat cruise along the canals on Monday, which was a lot of fun. Then for the rest of Monday and all day today, we've been roaming around, checking out the sights. We did the Anne Frank house yesterday, and tried to do the Heininken Experience today, but it was closed until Oct. 20th due to renovations. Very disappointing to miss one of the Holy Grails of beer tours.
Looks like some Australians in our room want to go out to a pub, so looks like Violet and I will be joining them and maybe seeing what the Red Light District is all about. I'll let you know what I find out.
Anyway, back to the story at hand. After the wedding dinner and Elvis and the band on Saturday, Violet and I headed to our no-frills hotel down the street at about 1:30 am. We crashed hard. I awoke a few hours later feeling sick and realized that the Germans had unleashed WWII in my stomach with all their gastronomical delights. On Sunday morning, I felt a little better, but Violet didn't fare nearly as well that night. We met up with the bride and groom at the hotel for breakfast, then crammed all our stuff into their VW and headed off to the Frankfurt Airport. They took off for their honeymoon to the Dominican Republic, while Violet and I hopped a train to the city to bum around for a few hours before our flight to Amsterdam.
Frankfurt...was Frankfurt. It had some tall buildings and industrial parks, but not too much culturally to speak of. They had a nice "old town" section with buildings that reminded me of my time in Munich last year (minus the beer gardens). Lots of gypsies were out performing music reminiscent of the soundtrack from "Borat". Violet and I ended up taking a cruise along the Main River and checking out "Mainhattan" as the locals there like to call it. The prerecorded narration was so dry and boring that it about put me into a coma. Once our cruise was finished, we hopped the train back to the airport and flew the hour or so over here to Amsterdam.
At first glance when you're at the Amsterdam airport, it appears you'll have an easy time getting around the city since everything is in English. But once you get onto the train, everything changes and switches to Dutch, and you start having "Lost in Translation" moments. Dutch is nothing at all like any language you know. Even German is a cinch compared to Dutch. Violet had to ask for directions to the hostel several times since nothing was recognizably marked at the train station. I honestly don't know how we made it to our hostel. Call it blind, dumb luck.
The first hostel we stayed at was called the StayOkay, which has to be the dumbest name for a hostel I've ever heard of. The building used to be a dorm housing university or secondary school students. The breakfasts were nothing to brag about: bread, sour yogurt, granola and juice that tasted anything but fresh. And the rooms had rickety metal bunk beds in cramped quarters. After living a week in our own private room at Shane and Andrea's apartment, it felt awkward being thrown into a room with four other twenty-somethings. And the Flying Pig doesn't feel much different. However, the atmosphere here is much more inviting that the sterile institution-like feel at the StayOkay.
Amsterdam, however, is an incredible city. It's like nothing you've ever seen before with the canals, tightly-crammed buildings and bicyclists everywhere. Every day I fear for my life, thinking a tram, car or bike will run me over. We took a boat cruise along the canals on Monday, which was a lot of fun. Then for the rest of Monday and all day today, we've been roaming around, checking out the sights. We did the Anne Frank house yesterday, and tried to do the Heininken Experience today, but it was closed until Oct. 20th due to renovations. Very disappointing to miss one of the Holy Grails of beer tours.
Looks like some Australians in our room want to go out to a pub, so looks like Violet and I will be joining them and maybe seeing what the Red Light District is all about. I'll let you know what I find out.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Amsterdam Good Time
Holy cow! The last 48 hours have been a whirlwind for Violet and me, going from a wedding, to a day in Frankfurt, to the canals of Amsterdam. There's been so much activity all at once that I almost feel as if I could use a vacation from the vacation. Here's a recap on what has transpired in recent days:
We made it into Saarlouis, Germany on Saturday afternoon without any problems and headed over to the town church for the wedding ceremony. I wore a neon green shirt to match Violet's dress, and we stuck out like weeds in a garden of German black. I don't understand why Europeans don't like to wear color. Maybe they're all color blind. Anyway, the ceremony was nice, but it was quite unique... if you can imagine taking a traditional wedding service all spoken in German and throwing in the type of music you'd find at revival tents in America, then that is what we witnessed. It was a weird hybrid that throws you off guard. Shane and Andrea had to sit in giant chair-like thrones at the front of the church, with their backs facing the audience. With all their talking between each other during the ceremony, I felt like they were plotting a strategy on how to take over all of Europe.
Directly after the ceremony, we spent about 2 hours in the back room of the church drinking champagne, eating cheese sticks and drinking more champagne. I really liked this part of German wedding culture... it gave us something to do until 7 pm rolled around for the dinner. Violet and I needed a ride over to the reception, so we asked one of Shane's friends Mo and her partner/girlfriend to give us a lift. Little did I know Mo had a BMW and drove like a maniac on speed (the 5 champagnes in her system probably didn't help). This was my first time in a BMW. Being inside one of these cars flying down the Autobahn at nearly 250 kph is a religious experience. You finally get to see what a car like a BMW was meant to do. My God... talk about smooth handling. Talk about power. And talk about friggin' dangerous. As Mo weaved in and out of traffic at speeds that would break Mach 3, I was dripping sweat and gripping onto Violet's leg for fear of dying. Even in the small town of Volkingen where the dinner was, Mo kept flying...and getting lost, even after her on-board navigation system kept telling her where to turn (it was like having Kitt from Knight Rider talk to us, except in a female voice). Mo was driving so fast that we lost Grandma and Grandpa from Pennsylvania in the dust who were slowly trailing us in a VW wagon to get to the wedding dinner (they had to stop by a hole-in-the-wall German bar and pay someone 10 Euro to get them to the dinner. Poor Grandma and Grandpa).
After about 20 wrong turns, we finally made it to the dinner (behind Grandma and Grandpa). It took about 10 minutes for me to get my nerves back (but I tell you what, if I ever have disposable income, I'm buying a BMW and moving to Germany). The dinner was fancy-schmancy with breads, wines, soups, steaks and other fine foods brought out to us. The highlights of the evening were having an Elvis impersonator, speaking in German, come out and serenade the guests. There was also an excellent rockabilly band performing afterwards. Violet beat all the other single women at catching the bouquet, and I caught the garter belt. We were there until about 1 am dancing and drinking and mingling with Germans. It was quite an evening.
(To be continued)
We made it into Saarlouis, Germany on Saturday afternoon without any problems and headed over to the town church for the wedding ceremony. I wore a neon green shirt to match Violet's dress, and we stuck out like weeds in a garden of German black. I don't understand why Europeans don't like to wear color. Maybe they're all color blind. Anyway, the ceremony was nice, but it was quite unique... if you can imagine taking a traditional wedding service all spoken in German and throwing in the type of music you'd find at revival tents in America, then that is what we witnessed. It was a weird hybrid that throws you off guard. Shane and Andrea had to sit in giant chair-like thrones at the front of the church, with their backs facing the audience. With all their talking between each other during the ceremony, I felt like they were plotting a strategy on how to take over all of Europe.
Directly after the ceremony, we spent about 2 hours in the back room of the church drinking champagne, eating cheese sticks and drinking more champagne. I really liked this part of German wedding culture... it gave us something to do until 7 pm rolled around for the dinner. Violet and I needed a ride over to the reception, so we asked one of Shane's friends Mo and her partner/girlfriend to give us a lift. Little did I know Mo had a BMW and drove like a maniac on speed (the 5 champagnes in her system probably didn't help). This was my first time in a BMW. Being inside one of these cars flying down the Autobahn at nearly 250 kph is a religious experience. You finally get to see what a car like a BMW was meant to do. My God... talk about smooth handling. Talk about power. And talk about friggin' dangerous. As Mo weaved in and out of traffic at speeds that would break Mach 3, I was dripping sweat and gripping onto Violet's leg for fear of dying. Even in the small town of Volkingen where the dinner was, Mo kept flying...and getting lost, even after her on-board navigation system kept telling her where to turn (it was like having Kitt from Knight Rider talk to us, except in a female voice). Mo was driving so fast that we lost Grandma and Grandpa from Pennsylvania in the dust who were slowly trailing us in a VW wagon to get to the wedding dinner (they had to stop by a hole-in-the-wall German bar and pay someone 10 Euro to get them to the dinner. Poor Grandma and Grandpa).
After about 20 wrong turns, we finally made it to the dinner (behind Grandma and Grandpa). It took about 10 minutes for me to get my nerves back (but I tell you what, if I ever have disposable income, I'm buying a BMW and moving to Germany). The dinner was fancy-schmancy with breads, wines, soups, steaks and other fine foods brought out to us. The highlights of the evening were having an Elvis impersonator, speaking in German, come out and serenade the guests. There was also an excellent rockabilly band performing afterwards. Violet beat all the other single women at catching the bouquet, and I caught the garter belt. We were there until about 1 am dancing and drinking and mingling with Germans. It was quite an evening.
(To be continued)
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Saarlouie Time
Guten tag, damen und herren! It's a lovely morning here in Kaiserslautern as we are about to head out to Saarlouie for Wedding, Part 2 (the ceremonial portion of the wedding). We spent all day Friday in Saarlouie having a tour of the town. Saarlouie was named after King Louis the XIV and has gone back and forth between France and Germany over the centuries. It used to be a strategic fortress town that was unpenetrable for 3 centuries...that is, until the Americans came in during WWII and wiped it out with an air attack. Now it's just a sleepy little town.
After our tour, we had a huge lunch at the bride's parents' home in Saarlouie. Lots of bread, spread, ham, green beans and ham, scalloped potatoes, tiramisu, wine, and coffee. I impressed the mother with my fractured German, saying "Morgen!" when I first met her and then commenting "Das ist gut!" while eating. I'm still waiting to slip in "Ich bin ein Berliner" somewhere...maybe if we all happen to go to a pastry shop together. I also asked the father about wines in the region since he is a big connoisseur. Flattery can get you pretty far in Germany, so I use it whenever I can.
We left Andrea with her parents and rode with Shane back to Kaiserslautern to help with final preparations for the wedding, such as writing names on leaves of ivy to use as place cards at the wedding dinner, and selecting a song for the Elvis impersonator to sing during the couple's slow dance (I think we finally settled on "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You," despite my daring them to go with "Suspicious Minds"). This morning, we packed up our stuff and tried to eat as many leftovers in the tiny refrigerator as possible. Let me tell you, I'm stuffed right now.
Uh oh...looks like it's time to go back to Saarlouie. I'm getting that look to stop typing. I'll catch up with you again in a day or two.
After our tour, we had a huge lunch at the bride's parents' home in Saarlouie. Lots of bread, spread, ham, green beans and ham, scalloped potatoes, tiramisu, wine, and coffee. I impressed the mother with my fractured German, saying "Morgen!" when I first met her and then commenting "Das ist gut!" while eating. I'm still waiting to slip in "Ich bin ein Berliner" somewhere...maybe if we all happen to go to a pastry shop together. I also asked the father about wines in the region since he is a big connoisseur. Flattery can get you pretty far in Germany, so I use it whenever I can.
We left Andrea with her parents and rode with Shane back to Kaiserslautern to help with final preparations for the wedding, such as writing names on leaves of ivy to use as place cards at the wedding dinner, and selecting a song for the Elvis impersonator to sing during the couple's slow dance (I think we finally settled on "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You," despite my daring them to go with "Suspicious Minds"). This morning, we packed up our stuff and tried to eat as many leftovers in the tiny refrigerator as possible. Let me tell you, I'm stuffed right now.
Uh oh...looks like it's time to go back to Saarlouie. I'm getting that look to stop typing. I'll catch up with you again in a day or two.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Paris in a Nutshell
Ugh...it's almost 1 am our time in Germany. Just got back from Paris about 9:30 pm, and I'm exhausted. Violet and I crammed in a lot for only being in the City of Lights for less than two days. After having a late night dinner of meats, cheeses, hefeweizen and Schnopps, I'm ready to hit the sack. But here's some quickie highlights/musings that happened on our Parisian adventure:
--Went up to the tippie top of the Eiffel Tower at night time. Nearly freezed our butts off.
--Explored Montmartre late at night and felt like taking a shower afterwards.
--Violet tried to catch a pigeon in the park and help it untangle from some wine. No luck.
--Went into sticker shock a few times after seeing the prices of our food orders. Still can't fathom how a can of Coke can cost 4 Euro (about 6 U.S. dollars).
--Saw the Salvador Dali Museum. That man is whacked out.
--Walked. And walked. And walked.
--Stumbled upon Paris' makeout point outside of the Sacre Couer. I guess Jesus IS all about love.
--Doesn't anybody in Paris wear anything besides black?
--Spent 30 minutes just trying to find a trash can in the city to throw away some banana peels.
--Word of advice: Don't try the Turkish toilets in Paris.
--Went up to the tippie top of the Eiffel Tower at night time. Nearly freezed our butts off.
--Explored Montmartre late at night and felt like taking a shower afterwards.
--Violet tried to catch a pigeon in the park and help it untangle from some wine. No luck.
--Went into sticker shock a few times after seeing the prices of our food orders. Still can't fathom how a can of Coke can cost 4 Euro (about 6 U.S. dollars).
--Saw the Salvador Dali Museum. That man is whacked out.
--Walked. And walked. And walked.
--Stumbled upon Paris' makeout point outside of the Sacre Couer. I guess Jesus IS all about love.
--Doesn't anybody in Paris wear anything besides black?
--Spent 30 minutes just trying to find a trash can in the city to throw away some banana peels.
--Word of advice: Don't try the Turkish toilets in Paris.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
I See Paris, I See France...
While Violet is catching some ZZZs here at our hostel in Paris, let me bring you up to snuff on our trip here in Europe. Before I begin, let me just say how surreal it is at times to suddenly realize that, hey, I'm not in America right now. Maybe I've been in too many places over the past year. Maybe I've become too desensitized to everything going on around me. Or maybe the world around me is becoming more globalized and all cultures are starting to intermingle into one. Whatever the case, Europe doesn't seem like the scary, foreign place it used to when I first set foot here years ago.
I think the key to traveling (as well as living life) is to not listen to what a lot of people tell you. For the most part, you'll find that the people who are giving you advice really don't know and are just repeating what they've heard from incorrect sources. Take it upon yourself to experience new things in life and find out on your own how the world really works. Then you'll see that this world really isn't a scary, horrible place after all.
Enough philosophy for today, and back to the drama at hand. After Shane's family left for the evening last night, we must have had a few German beers in all of our systems. The hefeweizens are wonderful here... they're like liquid candy to me. Even the darker (dunkel) weizens are something to fall in love with. We probably didn't go to bed until midnight, which was probably a mistake since everybody had such a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I thought we were doing good on time this morning to catch our train, until someone told me it was 7:10, and the train left at 7:22. Oh, it was time to start practicing those German cuss words from my book (which, by the way, has become a big hit around the apartment in recent days. Even Andrea's German mom (who knows little English) had caught word of it and requested that I bring it to her to read. These Germans love their foul humor).
After another ride in a car with a German maniac behind the wheel, we made it to the train station with 2 minutes to spare and caught our 2 1/2 hour bullet train to Paris. It was insane to watch the world outside pass by in a blur. Someone told me that the train was traveling at speeds around 320 kph, which is well over 200 mph. Kinda puts Phoenix's new "light rail" to shame, doesn't it?
Once in Paris, Violet and I took off on our own to do some exploring. We found some odd joint near the train station that served omelettes and salad and gorged ourselves on that since we had missed breakfast. Then we jumped the Metro and went to Notre Dame to check out the gargoyles, then over to Centre Pompidou to check out the bizarre building housing modern art (all the air ducts, elevators and escalators are on the outside, almost as if the building threw up). Continuing my mission to never pay to use the bathroom EVER, I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how the automated self-cleaning toilettes work in Paris. Then it was over to the Louvre for my photo session and some cheeseball "The Da Vinci Code" shots of us pointing out the location of the Holy Grail (psst: it's under the upside down glass pyramid!)
And now we're in Montmartre at St. Christopher's Inn, which has to be the nicest, most kick-ass hostel I've ever laid my eyes on. They just opened this place a month or so ago, and it is a backpacker's dream come true. The building has an odd look, like it's wrapped up in twine. But inside, all the dorms are colorfully painted with "theme" rooms (mine is the "Notre Dame" suite), and there's an American-themed bar called "Belushi's" downstairs filled with Animal-House and other movie references. Like I said, globalism thrives big around these parts, like it or not).
Violet just woke up, so it's off we go exploring Montmartre, or "Amelie World" as I like to call it. Montmartre is the site of the original Moulin Rouge and was a breeding ground for many important art movements, including Impressionism, Cubism, and Strip Tease-ism. Should be fun to check out.
I think the key to traveling (as well as living life) is to not listen to what a lot of people tell you. For the most part, you'll find that the people who are giving you advice really don't know and are just repeating what they've heard from incorrect sources. Take it upon yourself to experience new things in life and find out on your own how the world really works. Then you'll see that this world really isn't a scary, horrible place after all.
Enough philosophy for today, and back to the drama at hand. After Shane's family left for the evening last night, we must have had a few German beers in all of our systems. The hefeweizens are wonderful here... they're like liquid candy to me. Even the darker (dunkel) weizens are something to fall in love with. We probably didn't go to bed until midnight, which was probably a mistake since everybody had such a hard time getting out of bed this morning. I thought we were doing good on time this morning to catch our train, until someone told me it was 7:10, and the train left at 7:22. Oh, it was time to start practicing those German cuss words from my book (which, by the way, has become a big hit around the apartment in recent days. Even Andrea's German mom (who knows little English) had caught word of it and requested that I bring it to her to read. These Germans love their foul humor).
After another ride in a car with a German maniac behind the wheel, we made it to the train station with 2 minutes to spare and caught our 2 1/2 hour bullet train to Paris. It was insane to watch the world outside pass by in a blur. Someone told me that the train was traveling at speeds around 320 kph, which is well over 200 mph. Kinda puts Phoenix's new "light rail" to shame, doesn't it?
Once in Paris, Violet and I took off on our own to do some exploring. We found some odd joint near the train station that served omelettes and salad and gorged ourselves on that since we had missed breakfast. Then we jumped the Metro and went to Notre Dame to check out the gargoyles, then over to Centre Pompidou to check out the bizarre building housing modern art (all the air ducts, elevators and escalators are on the outside, almost as if the building threw up). Continuing my mission to never pay to use the bathroom EVER, I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how the automated self-cleaning toilettes work in Paris. Then it was over to the Louvre for my photo session and some cheeseball "The Da Vinci Code" shots of us pointing out the location of the Holy Grail (psst: it's under the upside down glass pyramid!)
And now we're in Montmartre at St. Christopher's Inn, which has to be the nicest, most kick-ass hostel I've ever laid my eyes on. They just opened this place a month or so ago, and it is a backpacker's dream come true. The building has an odd look, like it's wrapped up in twine. But inside, all the dorms are colorfully painted with "theme" rooms (mine is the "Notre Dame" suite), and there's an American-themed bar called "Belushi's" downstairs filled with Animal-House and other movie references. Like I said, globalism thrives big around these parts, like it or not).
Violet just woke up, so it's off we go exploring Montmartre, or "Amelie World" as I like to call it. Montmartre is the site of the original Moulin Rouge and was a breeding ground for many important art movements, including Impressionism, Cubism, and Strip Tease-ism. Should be fun to check out.
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