I'm packing my things. My things. I've worked hard for these things. Some of them define my life, some of these things I've used only once, some of these things comfort me. But they are just things. Things that shed light on the person I am and what has made me who I am. And I am packing them up for them to move out of my reach into a house that I will be living in in a few months time. They will be staying with a man, who, in a few months time I shall call my husband. Who's name I shall take as my own. A person who I shall share my things with.
Never have I ever paused as long and thought as hard about what I am doing as I have now. I am leaving almost everything. I am taking me, everything I am, all I use to go through my day to another city, another place, that I shall live. A place that I shall hopefully call home once I settle in. But it will be a strange place and it will be foreign and it shall at times be lonely. A part of me is so sad. A part of me, bereft.
Everything is leaving me and changing. So quickly. Time is going so fast and so slow all at once, and I find myself struggling to keep up and cope with it.
I shall assume the identity of a man's last name and be known as his. I shall not be making a name for myself anymore but for us. I shall take my boxes of my things, unpack them, and share them with him. They will no longer be mine. But ours. The very idea.
I wonder how I got here sometimes. I wonder how I happened upon this man, my fiancé, how we dated, how we're engaged, and now how we're preparing to be married. How did this independent, determined-to-be-moderately-wealthy, moderate-feminist woman decide to get here. When did I decide to choose this path.
It's in those small little choices, they all add up to here, this very moment that I find myself: sitting in the corner of my messy, unkempt room with boxes scattered about acknowledging that I am about to be a married woman. These are the shoes some women dream of being in. I never did. I was not one of them. I wanted to be single till I died. I never wanted to rely on any man. I wanted independence, to see the world, to live life unhindered. But that's not what my Maker had in mind.
So here I find myself looking at those empty brown boxes asking myself if I'm scared. And I am. I can't explain how scared I am. It envelopes me, keeps me comfort in this corner that I sit on the floor of my room. What if it's a bad choice.....what if my marriage fails.....what if he can't stand me.....what if I can't share my things....what if I lose my identity....what if I change to something I never wanted to be? The "what if's" could swallow me whole. The gravity of the potential of this choice is hitting me.
So where do I go from here? Stop packing? Leave the open-mouthed brown boxes empty? Or do I keep packing?
My good friend Sarah told me "If you want a great marriage, you get on your knees everyday and pray. You stay in the Word. Everyday. You pray Gods will to be done, and that Todd seeks Gods face daily. But you dont let fear rule you, Michelle. That gives the enemy victory and basically tells God the victory He gave you isnt good enough. You surrender Todd over to the Lord everyday....and you don't make him your anchor. Only God is your anchor." Most comforting and truthful words that could ever be spoken into the heart of someone who is fearful and unsure of the future.
So I will continue to put my things in those empty brown boxes, maybe turn up the music a little louder, and make God my anchor. There are few guarantees in life, but thankfully, God is one guarantee I can count on. Daily.
Hello home.
Charlotte, North Carolina never had a happier visitor.
I practically skipped through customs and danced around the terminal during my three hour layover. I laughed when I saw the American toilets with their seats intact and their toliet paper rolls standing at attention, I cried when I saw that I had free wifi throughout the airport, and I hugged the Starbucks barista and was about to give him a kiss when I remembered that my fiancé wouldnt like that too much. I even looked over the fact that they gave my drink to another customer. I was in America. Land of the free, home of everything wonderfully familiar to me. It was then that I realized how American I was and how proud of that I was. America is a great place.
I wandered the wonderfully American terminal shops and listened to the delicious sound of American accents. I watched the American moms fuss over their American kids. I watched the American customers complain about their orders at either Starbucks or some American restaurant. I watched the American business men talk on their phones and make their plans. Before I went through security to get on my last flight home to Florida, I stepped out the doors of that airport terminal and I inhaled the smell of America. It was glorious. It smelled like freedom and deodorant. It is an amazing smell.
I went through security and made my way onto the plane. I chatted with an American soldier as we went through.
Once on the plane, me and the two ladies sitting in the same row started a conversation that lasted the majority of the flight. I told them about my life and my tales of having seen the world (ok....so just Europe). They told me about theirs, one a grandmother, the other a motivational speaker. we discussed our lives until we landed and wished each other luck as we parted ways. I couldn't have met finer ladies.
I used the free wifi in the airport terminal to text my mom and tell her what I was wearing and where I was standing. I did this until a familiar green truck rolled up and a devilishly handsome man whistled at me. My fiancé came down on a Thursday when he should be working to pick me up.
Then it hit me. It was as if all the hours I hadn't slept during the past month hit me. I struggled to put my luggage in the bed of his truck and crawled into the passengers seat. I was as good as dead. Poor man probably thought I wasn't excited to see him. All I could do was lay my head down on his travel duffel bag on the compartment between him and I and say hello.
Hello to the love of my life and hello to my home.
I practically skipped through customs and danced around the terminal during my three hour layover. I laughed when I saw the American toilets with their seats intact and their toliet paper rolls standing at attention, I cried when I saw that I had free wifi throughout the airport, and I hugged the Starbucks barista and was about to give him a kiss when I remembered that my fiancé wouldnt like that too much. I even looked over the fact that they gave my drink to another customer. I was in America. Land of the free, home of everything wonderfully familiar to me. It was then that I realized how American I was and how proud of that I was. America is a great place.
I wandered the wonderfully American terminal shops and listened to the delicious sound of American accents. I watched the American moms fuss over their American kids. I watched the American customers complain about their orders at either Starbucks or some American restaurant. I watched the American business men talk on their phones and make their plans. Before I went through security to get on my last flight home to Florida, I stepped out the doors of that airport terminal and I inhaled the smell of America. It was glorious. It smelled like freedom and deodorant. It is an amazing smell.
I went through security and made my way onto the plane. I chatted with an American soldier as we went through.
Once on the plane, me and the two ladies sitting in the same row started a conversation that lasted the majority of the flight. I told them about my life and my tales of having seen the world (ok....so just Europe). They told me about theirs, one a grandmother, the other a motivational speaker. we discussed our lives until we landed and wished each other luck as we parted ways. I couldn't have met finer ladies.
I used the free wifi in the airport terminal to text my mom and tell her what I was wearing and where I was standing. I did this until a familiar green truck rolled up and a devilishly handsome man whistled at me. My fiancé came down on a Thursday when he should be working to pick me up.
Then it hit me. It was as if all the hours I hadn't slept during the past month hit me. I struggled to put my luggage in the bed of his truck and crawled into the passengers seat. I was as good as dead. Poor man probably thought I wasn't excited to see him. All I could do was lay my head down on his travel duffel bag on the compartment between him and I and say hello.
Hello to the love of my life and hello to my home.
Going home..
We made our way back to Madrid to Bella's cousins house. We arrived in the evening and met them at their new apartment. Their new apartment was much bigger and could accommodate us in their living room, they told us as we walked up to their apartment.
We had to leave the apartment at 6 in the morning to get to the airport to fly home. So I figured we would get to bed early and wake up early. Haha. This is Spain and people don't sleep here. I should have known better. Of course I realized this when I walked into the apartment and I saw their friends hanging out in the area we were assigned to sleep in. It was then that I knew we wouldn't be sleeping.
My body had gotten accustomed to the lack of sleep I supposed, primed from graduate school and now traveling Europe and not sleeping was part of it's function almost. So we chatted for a good portion of the night and then went to sleep for 3 hours when everyone went home and/or to bed.
But for some reason I couldn't sleep and neither could Bella. I think we were both nervous and excited about going home. Either way we didn't sleep at all. When our alarms went off we showered and quietly left, already having said our goodbyes the night before.
We traveled down the almost desolate street, with the exception of the occasional bum or drunk, with ghengis and baby Kahn. We made our way to the shuttle and from there got off at terminal 3. My flight was leaving in 2 hours, Bella's in 2 hours and 40-odd minutes. We said our tearful goodbyes. It was strange to think the person I have been spending the most amount of time within the past month I wouldn't see for many months. I got lost with Bella, slept in the same room as Bella, stayed up all night with Bella, ate with Bella, talked with Bella, read with Bella, cried with Bella, cuddled with Bella, argued with Bella.....and just like that....with one plane flight, I would never do that again. It was so weird to think that all those experiences we just had and shared would be over. We would never be able to continue our adventures or have them again.
That sad thought made me take a Tylenol PM while walking through Madrid's security. I also hold that sad thought responsible for making me purchase expensive tax-free Dior perfume before boarding the plane. Once I was on the plane and the engines were droning midair though, I couldn't help but smile through my drowsiness. I was going home. I can't wait.
We had to leave the apartment at 6 in the morning to get to the airport to fly home. So I figured we would get to bed early and wake up early. Haha. This is Spain and people don't sleep here. I should have known better. Of course I realized this when I walked into the apartment and I saw their friends hanging out in the area we were assigned to sleep in. It was then that I knew we wouldn't be sleeping.
My body had gotten accustomed to the lack of sleep I supposed, primed from graduate school and now traveling Europe and not sleeping was part of it's function almost. So we chatted for a good portion of the night and then went to sleep for 3 hours when everyone went home and/or to bed.
But for some reason I couldn't sleep and neither could Bella. I think we were both nervous and excited about going home. Either way we didn't sleep at all. When our alarms went off we showered and quietly left, already having said our goodbyes the night before.
We traveled down the almost desolate street, with the exception of the occasional bum or drunk, with ghengis and baby Kahn. We made our way to the shuttle and from there got off at terminal 3. My flight was leaving in 2 hours, Bella's in 2 hours and 40-odd minutes. We said our tearful goodbyes. It was strange to think the person I have been spending the most amount of time within the past month I wouldn't see for many months. I got lost with Bella, slept in the same room as Bella, stayed up all night with Bella, ate with Bella, talked with Bella, read with Bella, cried with Bella, cuddled with Bella, argued with Bella.....and just like that....with one plane flight, I would never do that again. It was so weird to think that all those experiences we just had and shared would be over. We would never be able to continue our adventures or have them again.
That sad thought made me take a Tylenol PM while walking through Madrid's security. I also hold that sad thought responsible for making me purchase expensive tax-free Dior perfume before boarding the plane. Once I was on the plane and the engines were droning midair though, I couldn't help but smile through my drowsiness. I was going home. I can't wait.
Cadiz, beach time!...or not.
We spent a few days in Spain then decided to go to Cadiz, which is on the southern tip of Spain. We hopped on the train in the evening after spending the day in Madrid and decided to spend the night on Cadiz's beaches. When we arrived we walked around the little beach town and enjoyed it's breeze and salty air. We ate at this, of all places, American restaurant where Bella got a burger and I got quesadillas. We were in the middle of eating when we realized that we couldnt spend the night on the beaches. That's really not something two girls should do. So we set out to find a cheap hostel.
We found that a lot of the hotels and hostels were already full so when we found a hostel that looked like an old spanish house had one room left, we booked it. Little did we know that this place would help us have the third most unpleasant yet memorable night of our (at least my) trip. As we made our way up the old marble staircase to our room we were greeted by a dutch (maybe german) man who was just exiting his room and looked at us in surprise and said "oooohhhh american girls??? Welcome!!!" From then on we knew this night was destined to be memorable.
The room was a bit sketch. The windows were wide open, with no screens, to the street. The comforter and multicolored mismatched sheets were sure to have seen better and cleaner days. We were certain the closet contained a dead body but both of us were to scared to see if the ideas our imaginations incited were true. And the shared bathroom down the hall....well let's just say we tried to have zero physical bodily contact with any part of it. We called it a night despite the dilapidated state of the place and snoozed off into dream land.
That is of course until Bella jolted upright in the bed and grabbed me and said "did you feel that?!?!" I groggily awoke and asked her what she meant. She started to panic, so I woke up pretty quickly and started to ask her what was wrong. She stated in an alarming voice that she had got bitten by a spider on her foot and I needed to look at it. Bella has a bad history with bugs that bite her, she's extremely allergic to them. I looked at it and saw two diminutive bumps on her foot. I told her there was no reason to panic, it was probably mosquitoes. Well that made it only a little better. She groused a bit about it and then we both went back to sleep again.
Until she got bitten again. And again. And again. And this is how the night went. All night. Till I finally decided to just stay awake and read a book on my iPad and guard Bella from the bugs and do something with toothpaste.....something that only Bella and I will ever know. Then at 5 o'clock in the morning Bella said she had had enough. So we picked up and left.
We went to this square by a church which happened to have wifi in it, watched people breed their dogs on the front steps of the church and accessed the wifi to find a more legit hotel. We found this "five star" hotel at a reasonable price about a 45 minute train ride away. So we got on the train and by 7:30 we were saying goodbye to the southern coast of Spain and it's mosquitoes.
When we arrived to the station we grabbed breakfast at a small cafe and each stared into either our coffee or in Bella's case her coca cola.
We got to the hotel early so we wandered around then decided to just see if we could use the pool until we could check into our rooms. We did so. As we were laying out by the pool I reflected on the "five star" hotel we were staying in. Hotel Jerez was nice, but it wasn't five star by American standards. Five star for Americans means the newest latest technologically advanced hotel. Five star for Spain, even most European countries, means an old dignified hotel that offers plush but old style amenities. Yes, there is a bathrobe in the room, but no cd/iPod player; yes, it's immaculate in the rooms, but it is by no means new, the rug on the floor is old but expensive. It's interesting to see and note those variances in standards according to the culture.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and leisurely enjoying our dinner. We watched the news at night and blogged until we passed out. Only to repeat it again the next day. It was a great way to spend the last few days in Spain. And I could find myself ready to go home but aware that I would miss these precious last days in Spain. Oh well. All good things must come to an end sometime mustn't they?
We found that a lot of the hotels and hostels were already full so when we found a hostel that looked like an old spanish house had one room left, we booked it. Little did we know that this place would help us have the third most unpleasant yet memorable night of our (at least my) trip. As we made our way up the old marble staircase to our room we were greeted by a dutch (maybe german) man who was just exiting his room and looked at us in surprise and said "oooohhhh american girls??? Welcome!!!" From then on we knew this night was destined to be memorable.
The room was a bit sketch. The windows were wide open, with no screens, to the street. The comforter and multicolored mismatched sheets were sure to have seen better and cleaner days. We were certain the closet contained a dead body but both of us were to scared to see if the ideas our imaginations incited were true. And the shared bathroom down the hall....well let's just say we tried to have zero physical bodily contact with any part of it. We called it a night despite the dilapidated state of the place and snoozed off into dream land.
That is of course until Bella jolted upright in the bed and grabbed me and said "did you feel that?!?!" I groggily awoke and asked her what she meant. She started to panic, so I woke up pretty quickly and started to ask her what was wrong. She stated in an alarming voice that she had got bitten by a spider on her foot and I needed to look at it. Bella has a bad history with bugs that bite her, she's extremely allergic to them. I looked at it and saw two diminutive bumps on her foot. I told her there was no reason to panic, it was probably mosquitoes. Well that made it only a little better. She groused a bit about it and then we both went back to sleep again.
Until she got bitten again. And again. And again. And this is how the night went. All night. Till I finally decided to just stay awake and read a book on my iPad and guard Bella from the bugs and do something with toothpaste.....something that only Bella and I will ever know. Then at 5 o'clock in the morning Bella said she had had enough. So we picked up and left.
We went to this square by a church which happened to have wifi in it, watched people breed their dogs on the front steps of the church and accessed the wifi to find a more legit hotel. We found this "five star" hotel at a reasonable price about a 45 minute train ride away. So we got on the train and by 7:30 we were saying goodbye to the southern coast of Spain and it's mosquitoes.
When we arrived to the station we grabbed breakfast at a small cafe and each stared into either our coffee or in Bella's case her coca cola.
We got to the hotel early so we wandered around then decided to just see if we could use the pool until we could check into our rooms. We did so. As we were laying out by the pool I reflected on the "five star" hotel we were staying in. Hotel Jerez was nice, but it wasn't five star by American standards. Five star for Americans means the newest latest technologically advanced hotel. Five star for Spain, even most European countries, means an old dignified hotel that offers plush but old style amenities. Yes, there is a bathrobe in the room, but no cd/iPod player; yes, it's immaculate in the rooms, but it is by no means new, the rug on the floor is old but expensive. It's interesting to see and note those variances in standards according to the culture.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and leisurely enjoying our dinner. We watched the news at night and blogged until we passed out. Only to repeat it again the next day. It was a great way to spend the last few days in Spain. And I could find myself ready to go home but aware that I would miss these precious last days in Spain. Oh well. All good things must come to an end sometime mustn't they?
Spain
Checkout time was noon. I love you spain.
We slept in till just before and then headed up the street to check in at a cheaper hotel. It was clean and nice but nowhere near as posh as the one we had stayed in the night before. But you know what? I honestly didn't care. Shower? Check. Bed? Check. I'm good.
We couldn't get in until 2 so we went to this place for lunch and sangrias. We had intellectual discussions about differences of needs under the cover of an umbrella until our determined check in time. It was a good meal for the price we paid but man was it hot out. Spain in the summer is no joke, hot.
We checked in and waited for about 10 minutes for them to get our room ready. It was while we were in the lobby waiting for our room that the second wave of sleepiness hit us. We passed out again.
When we woke up we went to this plaza close to where we ate for lunch and had dinner there. Specifically tapas. Tapas is something I had been wanting to try for awhile since Id read it on Bellas blog. It's basically a bunch of small plates with a sample of food on each plate and you share it amongst people. It was a sweet idea. The only thing I didn't like about it was when you liked something you wanted to get more of it but you had already ordered all these other plates, however it was a really great way to try a lot of different foods.
After dinner we called it an early night and headed back to bed.
Tomorrow's plans consisted of going into Madrid to stay with Bella's cousins for a few days. It was pretty sweet to see how real Spanish people live. I was extremely thankful they opened up their home to us. Their home was the traditional Spanish way of life. Their apartment building was a few stories high; they lived on the third floor. They had the traditional method of hanging clothes on the outside of their building...which was kind of strange because when you did your laundry and hung it up, anybody walking into their apartment could look up and see our unmentionables.....meh....I guess I'm not going to see these people again.
We spent the evening going grocery shopping, having dinner, and staying up late partying in the streets of Spain. It was incredible. Spanish people do not sleep. At all. When 5 am rolled around I was exhausted, but Bella and her cousins where just getting started.
We ended up rolling into bed not too much later. Because Bella's cousins didn't have enough room in their loft apartment to keep us we ended up staying in this garage of sorts. It was in the middle of construction to be turned into a studio. Just when I thought I had slept everywhere....it wasn't bad though. It had a garage door of sorts on the outside and we were right up against the street so we could hear Spain partying for the rest of night and on into the morning. You know you're getting old when your body has a bedtime and Spain made me realized that I was getting old. Still, I was glad to lay my head down and fall asleep to the sounds of the droning garbage men and drunken spanish conversations, as long as it meant I got to sleep.
We slept in till just before and then headed up the street to check in at a cheaper hotel. It was clean and nice but nowhere near as posh as the one we had stayed in the night before. But you know what? I honestly didn't care. Shower? Check. Bed? Check. I'm good.
We couldn't get in until 2 so we went to this place for lunch and sangrias. We had intellectual discussions about differences of needs under the cover of an umbrella until our determined check in time. It was a good meal for the price we paid but man was it hot out. Spain in the summer is no joke, hot.
We checked in and waited for about 10 minutes for them to get our room ready. It was while we were in the lobby waiting for our room that the second wave of sleepiness hit us. We passed out again.
When we woke up we went to this plaza close to where we ate for lunch and had dinner there. Specifically tapas. Tapas is something I had been wanting to try for awhile since Id read it on Bellas blog. It's basically a bunch of small plates with a sample of food on each plate and you share it amongst people. It was a sweet idea. The only thing I didn't like about it was when you liked something you wanted to get more of it but you had already ordered all these other plates, however it was a really great way to try a lot of different foods.
After dinner we called it an early night and headed back to bed.
Tomorrow's plans consisted of going into Madrid to stay with Bella's cousins for a few days. It was pretty sweet to see how real Spanish people live. I was extremely thankful they opened up their home to us. Their home was the traditional Spanish way of life. Their apartment building was a few stories high; they lived on the third floor. They had the traditional method of hanging clothes on the outside of their building...which was kind of strange because when you did your laundry and hung it up, anybody walking into their apartment could look up and see our unmentionables.....meh....I guess I'm not going to see these people again.
We spent the evening going grocery shopping, having dinner, and staying up late partying in the streets of Spain. It was incredible. Spanish people do not sleep. At all. When 5 am rolled around I was exhausted, but Bella and her cousins where just getting started.
We ended up rolling into bed not too much later. Because Bella's cousins didn't have enough room in their loft apartment to keep us we ended up staying in this garage of sorts. It was in the middle of construction to be turned into a studio. Just when I thought I had slept everywhere....it wasn't bad though. It had a garage door of sorts on the outside and we were right up against the street so we could hear Spain partying for the rest of night and on into the morning. You know you're getting old when your body has a bedtime and Spain made me realized that I was getting old. Still, I was glad to lay my head down and fall asleep to the sounds of the droning garbage men and drunken spanish conversations, as long as it meant I got to sleep.
The last stop before hell...I experienced it.
I can't even begin to describe my state of mind. The entire night was peppered with sleep but we both never really fully passed out. We changed trains so many times, I honestly really lost track.
We left Florence at 12:30ish and made our way to Pisa where we saw the leaning tower. It was surprisingly diminutive and looked fake, just like a chess piece. Most books call the leaning tower a tourist trap and it is. It's just a bell tower that's was put up improperly (or properly) and that's it. There is nothing else to see in Pisa. I almost regret having tramped across the city with our luggage to see something slightly disappointing. But hey, I can cross it off my life list....that has to count for something.
We made it back in time for the next train to take us to Maliglia (or something named like that). Our plans had changed when we realized we really needed a place to sleep (no duh right?. Originally we were just going to sleep on the beaches of Nice because hostels and hotels are so expensive in Nice, but thats just unrealistic. So we decided to push on towards Figueres in Spain. So pretty much the moment we arrived in Nice we got the next train out to Figueres because Bella said she knew of a really great place to crash there and it was nice and cheap. My kinda of language.
We are currently on the train for Figueres and we have 4 more hours left. My bones ache, my muscles don't know what their function is anymore, my eye color has gone from bloodshot to a yellow jaundice sort of look. My clothes.....well lets just say I'm not the most pleasant creature to be around right now. I feel bad for the poor souls who have to sit next to me.
Bella has passed out pretty consistently on each train despite it's been only for 2 minutes, it's humorous to see her nod off to sleep. Our moods, like the London/Brussels fiasco has been all over the map. We went from giggly to silent, to disbelief at our current situation. For the most part I have been pretty quiet, conserving my energy while Bella expends it and then passes out. I think we've only gotten on each others nerves a few times, otherwise it hasn't been too bad (ie. as in we haven't wanted to kill each other yet). Actually I take that back, I have wanted to pop Bella a few times when she randomly hits my backpack or smacks me. Otherwise, it's been amicable, mostly because I believe were both too tired to do much else......I think I'm about to nod off...be back in a sec.
So I actually never got the chance to continue that post during the train ride...mostly because I don't think my mind would have functioned to be able to do that. However I'll pick up where I left off. We had changed trains a few more times until we were finally on a train for Montepelier. That train was supposed to make a stop where we would take another train to Figueres. Or something like that. By now, you've either taken a cue from what I've just said or read Bella's blog (www.bellaseurope.blogspot.com) and know that never actually happened.
Unfortunately someone decided to end their life by jumping out in front of a train. This occurs rather often in France. This was the second time Bella was experiencing this in her travels abroad and my first. The entire process delayed us by 2 hours causing us to miss our train that would take us to Figueres. While this was incredibly unfortunate, we did our best to make light of the situation (ie. a few jokes on the behalf of the person who made this unwise decision) and make some friends.
Two French guys became our new best buds, well Isabella's really. I didn't really feel like talking to anyone because I hadn't slept for about 30ish hours and smelled like dirty socks that had been left in some guy's gym bag for 42 weeks. But once I got past that I managed to play a few card games with them and join in on the conversation. We talked about almost everything. It was interesting to see their perspective and hear their opinions on situations and ideas. Though I doubt we got a realistic accurate view of the French population's beliefs as one of them was an ex-gymnast and the other a recently-graduate fashion student, who was gay. Regardless it was interesting.
Two and a half hours later we got off at a stop that the train company had directed us to get off at so we could get on our next train that would take us to another stop so we could get on the bus that would take us to Figueres. This was the only way they could get us to our destination really, and while I appreciated that they didn't just let us fend for ourselves despite paying our way I couldn't help but resent them a little bit for not just getting another freaking train to take us to Figueres. But as I didn't know how trains operate, I overlooked it. They fed us on the train and I made the huge mistake of having nuts on an empty stomach before I got on the bus. my stomach was cramping hard core before I got off the train and I was afraid I was going to lose everything I had just ingested.
While waiting for the bus to come and take 100 of the 200 people to their destination. "Wait, you say, what happened to the other 100 people?" Well sad to say I have no idea. Bella was determined to get on that bus. The scene was just like what Bella had told me it was like when we sat down on the bus "the last bus out of Saigon." I can barely recall anything but Bella shoving me into the middle of stinky smelly people to be one of the first people on that bus. Now if you know me, you know I'm not a terribly affectionate person, and that I enjoy my personal space. Well that night, personal space was no longer an issue as much as getting on that last bus. I feel like a different person after that experience.
Once on the bus, my body started honing in on the stomach pain which may or may not have drawn a few tears from my eyes (I will neither confirm nor deny this, merely leave it up to the people to make this decision as to whether I'm a pansy or not). Bella thought I was going to die while I coped with the pain and started to feel really bad about the whole situation. The only thing I could think about was how this was so out of a movie. The girl dies after going out on this adventure with her friend, while the friend thinks it's her fault for dragging her out there. Only she didn't drag me....I went willingly. I laughed it off and promised I wouldn't die. I think she still was a little worried until in the midst of my body's desire to put me in pain for eating those nuts, I heard people talking and laughing in a different language. Bella has the amazing ability to understand a bunch of languages and I have the amazing ability to still be curious and nosy about what people are saying even if I am dying. So I asked her what the people were saying. Bella cautiously asked me what who was saying....I think she thought I was hearing the voice of God. I told her the people behind us. She asked me in bewilderment why I wanted to know what the heck the people behind us where saying when I was feeling crappy. I think she then realized I wasn't going to die. Or maybe I was and had decided I'm gonna die being nosy. Either way.
We traveled through the night and arrived at Figueres around 12. We hailed the next cab and Bella told him where to take us. The hotel that was nice and cheap was closed for the night so he brought us to this other hotel that was open.
Grimy, sweaty, stinky, and looking like we ourselves had gotten run over by a train walked into the nicest hotel I have ever seen since ive been in eruope. I really couldn't help but notice the irony of the situation. For €80 a night we could stay. That was a lot. Bella looked at me....I looked at her. And we caved. The man checking us in could have asked for anything...I would have probably given it to him for only a shower and a clean bed. I am so human.
I wanted people to know I was alive so I took advantage of the wifi and texted and skyped a few people then I passed out for the best sleep of my life.
We left Florence at 12:30ish and made our way to Pisa where we saw the leaning tower. It was surprisingly diminutive and looked fake, just like a chess piece. Most books call the leaning tower a tourist trap and it is. It's just a bell tower that's was put up improperly (or properly) and that's it. There is nothing else to see in Pisa. I almost regret having tramped across the city with our luggage to see something slightly disappointing. But hey, I can cross it off my life list....that has to count for something.
We made it back in time for the next train to take us to Maliglia (or something named like that). Our plans had changed when we realized we really needed a place to sleep (no duh right?. Originally we were just going to sleep on the beaches of Nice because hostels and hotels are so expensive in Nice, but thats just unrealistic. So we decided to push on towards Figueres in Spain. So pretty much the moment we arrived in Nice we got the next train out to Figueres because Bella said she knew of a really great place to crash there and it was nice and cheap. My kinda of language.
We are currently on the train for Figueres and we have 4 more hours left. My bones ache, my muscles don't know what their function is anymore, my eye color has gone from bloodshot to a yellow jaundice sort of look. My clothes.....well lets just say I'm not the most pleasant creature to be around right now. I feel bad for the poor souls who have to sit next to me.
Bella has passed out pretty consistently on each train despite it's been only for 2 minutes, it's humorous to see her nod off to sleep. Our moods, like the London/Brussels fiasco has been all over the map. We went from giggly to silent, to disbelief at our current situation. For the most part I have been pretty quiet, conserving my energy while Bella expends it and then passes out. I think we've only gotten on each others nerves a few times, otherwise it hasn't been too bad (ie. as in we haven't wanted to kill each other yet). Actually I take that back, I have wanted to pop Bella a few times when she randomly hits my backpack or smacks me. Otherwise, it's been amicable, mostly because I believe were both too tired to do much else......I think I'm about to nod off...be back in a sec.
So I actually never got the chance to continue that post during the train ride...mostly because I don't think my mind would have functioned to be able to do that. However I'll pick up where I left off. We had changed trains a few more times until we were finally on a train for Montepelier. That train was supposed to make a stop where we would take another train to Figueres. Or something like that. By now, you've either taken a cue from what I've just said or read Bella's blog (www.bellaseurope.blogspot.com) and know that never actually happened.
Unfortunately someone decided to end their life by jumping out in front of a train. This occurs rather often in France. This was the second time Bella was experiencing this in her travels abroad and my first. The entire process delayed us by 2 hours causing us to miss our train that would take us to Figueres. While this was incredibly unfortunate, we did our best to make light of the situation (ie. a few jokes on the behalf of the person who made this unwise decision) and make some friends.
Two French guys became our new best buds, well Isabella's really. I didn't really feel like talking to anyone because I hadn't slept for about 30ish hours and smelled like dirty socks that had been left in some guy's gym bag for 42 weeks. But once I got past that I managed to play a few card games with them and join in on the conversation. We talked about almost everything. It was interesting to see their perspective and hear their opinions on situations and ideas. Though I doubt we got a realistic accurate view of the French population's beliefs as one of them was an ex-gymnast and the other a recently-graduate fashion student, who was gay. Regardless it was interesting.
Two and a half hours later we got off at a stop that the train company had directed us to get off at so we could get on our next train that would take us to another stop so we could get on the bus that would take us to Figueres. This was the only way they could get us to our destination really, and while I appreciated that they didn't just let us fend for ourselves despite paying our way I couldn't help but resent them a little bit for not just getting another freaking train to take us to Figueres. But as I didn't know how trains operate, I overlooked it. They fed us on the train and I made the huge mistake of having nuts on an empty stomach before I got on the bus. my stomach was cramping hard core before I got off the train and I was afraid I was going to lose everything I had just ingested.
While waiting for the bus to come and take 100 of the 200 people to their destination. "Wait, you say, what happened to the other 100 people?" Well sad to say I have no idea. Bella was determined to get on that bus. The scene was just like what Bella had told me it was like when we sat down on the bus "the last bus out of Saigon." I can barely recall anything but Bella shoving me into the middle of stinky smelly people to be one of the first people on that bus. Now if you know me, you know I'm not a terribly affectionate person, and that I enjoy my personal space. Well that night, personal space was no longer an issue as much as getting on that last bus. I feel like a different person after that experience.
Once on the bus, my body started honing in on the stomach pain which may or may not have drawn a few tears from my eyes (I will neither confirm nor deny this, merely leave it up to the people to make this decision as to whether I'm a pansy or not). Bella thought I was going to die while I coped with the pain and started to feel really bad about the whole situation. The only thing I could think about was how this was so out of a movie. The girl dies after going out on this adventure with her friend, while the friend thinks it's her fault for dragging her out there. Only she didn't drag me....I went willingly. I laughed it off and promised I wouldn't die. I think she still was a little worried until in the midst of my body's desire to put me in pain for eating those nuts, I heard people talking and laughing in a different language. Bella has the amazing ability to understand a bunch of languages and I have the amazing ability to still be curious and nosy about what people are saying even if I am dying. So I asked her what the people were saying. Bella cautiously asked me what who was saying....I think she thought I was hearing the voice of God. I told her the people behind us. She asked me in bewilderment why I wanted to know what the heck the people behind us where saying when I was feeling crappy. I think she then realized I wasn't going to die. Or maybe I was and had decided I'm gonna die being nosy. Either way.
We traveled through the night and arrived at Figueres around 12. We hailed the next cab and Bella told him where to take us. The hotel that was nice and cheap was closed for the night so he brought us to this other hotel that was open.
Grimy, sweaty, stinky, and looking like we ourselves had gotten run over by a train walked into the nicest hotel I have ever seen since ive been in eruope. I really couldn't help but notice the irony of the situation. For €80 a night we could stay. That was a lot. Bella looked at me....I looked at her. And we caved. The man checking us in could have asked for anything...I would have probably given it to him for only a shower and a clean bed. I am so human.
I wanted people to know I was alive so I took advantage of the wifi and texted and skyped a few people then I passed out for the best sleep of my life.
Beautiful Florence....
Today we rolled out of our hotel around 11ish and set out to see Florence. I could tell that I was beginning to like Florence just from having walked around the previous night. But after we got tickets for a hop on/hop off bus and were an hour into our tour, I knew I loved it. It's a peaceful historic town with enough bustle to keep it interesting. We toured the whole city including an outside city called Fiesole. I could talk to you at some length with all the sights I've seen but per the usuaul I'm just going to sum up the highlights.
There was a small plaza that overlooked the entire city, I took some of the pictures and posted them on Facebook, but they really don't do a quarter of the justice they should towards demonstrating the beauty of the city. But they do give you some idea. In that plaza there was a bronze copy of Michelangelo's David sculpture, it was quite astounding. I was anxious to see the real one. I also saw the duomo, a beautiful church that is made of some incredible materials, not all of them I can recall, but the majesty and craftsmanship of that church just took your breath away. I also saw the hills where Galileo put his telescope and discovered some of the celestial beings we know today. I also saw the streets where only the rich shop; hermes, ferragamo, fendi, gucci, and other shops flanked streets where only the rich and famous were known to come.
As the evening fell, Bella and I happened to come across a crowd of renaissance style dressed people. We decided to follow them through the streets and see what they were up to. It was a good decision. It was apparently a festival that they did every year. The mayor of Florence was there, as well as his security, still it was fun to pretend to be apart of it all and see it unfold. They wandered through the streets and when they came to a plaza where famous sculptures where, I lost interest in the festival.
Bella suggested we split up for an hour so we each could things we were interested in doing. I went straight for the statues and sculptures.
I don't really think of myself as a person who appreciates sculpture but you couldn't not help appreciating these incredible forms and their life like qualities. I wandered around for awhile, allowing myself to get lost, and stumbled across this artist who was playing his songs underneath the sculpted buildings. The guitar strings and his voice reverberated off the buildings and the people crowding around to sit and listen added a charming atmosphere to the moment. I sat for a good 40 minutes enjoying his music and watching the deep blue Venetian sky turn black. It made me sad that I was enjoying the moment alone. It's so much more fulfilling to share those moments. But I was were I was and I determined to enjoy it as best as I would allow myself.
I soon had to meet up with Bella so I left my corner spot next to a sculpture of a male who was holding up what I think was medusa's head in victory. I met her at the hotel and we reviewed how we would get to Nice, France.
It was going to be one of the longest nights I've had in Europe. The train left the station at 12:38 and we changed trains 4 times throughout the night and arrived in Nice at 10:30 the next morning. Hotels and hostels are both really pricey in Nice so I don't think we're going to spend the day/night in Nice, but if we pansy out maybe we will. But for now our plan is to go 36 hours without sleep....roughly speaking. This is going to be a challenge. I'm pretty sure this will be rock bottom for both of us.
Cheers.
There was a small plaza that overlooked the entire city, I took some of the pictures and posted them on Facebook, but they really don't do a quarter of the justice they should towards demonstrating the beauty of the city. But they do give you some idea. In that plaza there was a bronze copy of Michelangelo's David sculpture, it was quite astounding. I was anxious to see the real one. I also saw the duomo, a beautiful church that is made of some incredible materials, not all of them I can recall, but the majesty and craftsmanship of that church just took your breath away. I also saw the hills where Galileo put his telescope and discovered some of the celestial beings we know today. I also saw the streets where only the rich shop; hermes, ferragamo, fendi, gucci, and other shops flanked streets where only the rich and famous were known to come.
As the evening fell, Bella and I happened to come across a crowd of renaissance style dressed people. We decided to follow them through the streets and see what they were up to. It was a good decision. It was apparently a festival that they did every year. The mayor of Florence was there, as well as his security, still it was fun to pretend to be apart of it all and see it unfold. They wandered through the streets and when they came to a plaza where famous sculptures where, I lost interest in the festival.
Bella suggested we split up for an hour so we each could things we were interested in doing. I went straight for the statues and sculptures.
I don't really think of myself as a person who appreciates sculpture but you couldn't not help appreciating these incredible forms and their life like qualities. I wandered around for awhile, allowing myself to get lost, and stumbled across this artist who was playing his songs underneath the sculpted buildings. The guitar strings and his voice reverberated off the buildings and the people crowding around to sit and listen added a charming atmosphere to the moment. I sat for a good 40 minutes enjoying his music and watching the deep blue Venetian sky turn black. It made me sad that I was enjoying the moment alone. It's so much more fulfilling to share those moments. But I was were I was and I determined to enjoy it as best as I would allow myself.
I soon had to meet up with Bella so I left my corner spot next to a sculpture of a male who was holding up what I think was medusa's head in victory. I met her at the hotel and we reviewed how we would get to Nice, France.
It was going to be one of the longest nights I've had in Europe. The train left the station at 12:38 and we changed trains 4 times throughout the night and arrived in Nice at 10:30 the next morning. Hotels and hostels are both really pricey in Nice so I don't think we're going to spend the day/night in Nice, but if we pansy out maybe we will. But for now our plan is to go 36 hours without sleep....roughly speaking. This is going to be a challenge. I'm pretty sure this will be rock bottom for both of us.
Cheers.
Later Rome...
We had made plans to see the Vatican and the Sistine chapel today, however we were so anxious to get out of Rome we decided to ditch the pope and Michelangelo's new paint job on the ceiling. We high-tailed it to the main terminal and proceeded to get on the next train out of Rome, pronto. However a fire broke out on the tracks and backed up every train in and out of Rome. So the place we were desperate to get out of, was keeping us there.
With our specific tickets we couldn't book a train until the next day, all the trains leaving today were for regular ticket holders.....and we didn't want to be there for another day. So we did what two ordinary girls would do in a situation like that...we just got on the next train out and decided to take our chances of getting kicked off.
The train we got on was packed and delayed by an hour. There were hardly any seats left when we got on so we snagged some first class seats. My conscience started kicking in though and I knew we, as global pass holders, shouldn't be sitting in first class seats when we didn't pay for them. I also had a premonition that if we continued to sit there they would charge us the €104 they charge first class ticket holders and frankly I wasn't going to cough that up.
So I convinced Bella to sit on the floor because surely the conductors would take pity on us and wouldn't charge us if we played dumb and were sitting on the floor. At least that's what I hoped. Sure enough, the conductor checked our tickets, told us we shouldn't be on the train because we didn't have legit tickets but said he wouldn't charge us. Score. So we rode the rest of the way on the cafeteria floor to Florence.
The first thing I noticed when I got off the train in Florence was their strange patches of garden grass. It was kinda random, but nonetheless pretty to see. Bella and I went to go stand in line to grab our tickets for Madrid, Spain. And after waiting 45 minutes in line we got cut off by an Asian woman desperately trying to cut into the line. A couple of people fielded off the woman by telling her to go to the back of the line but once she got her waterworks going someone let her cut in front. Me and Bella were really aggravated but the Italian man behind us told us that they do this all the time.
We managed to get our tickets....and it wasn't pretty. We would have to take the night train from 12:38 to 10:00 the next morning. We didn't have much of a choice so we took them.
Next thing to do was to get a hotel or a hostel of some sort. We walked around for a bit before deciding, instead of finding wifi and booking it online, to just walk in and ask how much. The first three places were booked but we actually got a good price for our 3rd hotel. So we booked and set up our home for the next 12 hours there.
After we settled in we walked around the outdoor market places and allowed the Italian guys to flirt with us and give us a bracelet. We settled on eating at a place outdoors right next to the road. The wine was a little disappointing but the food was overall good. We called it an early night and decided to recoup for our 30 hour trip tomorrow. Should be interesting hopefully we don't kill each other.
Cheers.
With our specific tickets we couldn't book a train until the next day, all the trains leaving today were for regular ticket holders.....and we didn't want to be there for another day. So we did what two ordinary girls would do in a situation like that...we just got on the next train out and decided to take our chances of getting kicked off.
The train we got on was packed and delayed by an hour. There were hardly any seats left when we got on so we snagged some first class seats. My conscience started kicking in though and I knew we, as global pass holders, shouldn't be sitting in first class seats when we didn't pay for them. I also had a premonition that if we continued to sit there they would charge us the €104 they charge first class ticket holders and frankly I wasn't going to cough that up.
So I convinced Bella to sit on the floor because surely the conductors would take pity on us and wouldn't charge us if we played dumb and were sitting on the floor. At least that's what I hoped. Sure enough, the conductor checked our tickets, told us we shouldn't be on the train because we didn't have legit tickets but said he wouldn't charge us. Score. So we rode the rest of the way on the cafeteria floor to Florence.
The first thing I noticed when I got off the train in Florence was their strange patches of garden grass. It was kinda random, but nonetheless pretty to see. Bella and I went to go stand in line to grab our tickets for Madrid, Spain. And after waiting 45 minutes in line we got cut off by an Asian woman desperately trying to cut into the line. A couple of people fielded off the woman by telling her to go to the back of the line but once she got her waterworks going someone let her cut in front. Me and Bella were really aggravated but the Italian man behind us told us that they do this all the time.
We managed to get our tickets....and it wasn't pretty. We would have to take the night train from 12:38 to 10:00 the next morning. We didn't have much of a choice so we took them.
Next thing to do was to get a hotel or a hostel of some sort. We walked around for a bit before deciding, instead of finding wifi and booking it online, to just walk in and ask how much. The first three places were booked but we actually got a good price for our 3rd hotel. So we booked and set up our home for the next 12 hours there.
After we settled in we walked around the outdoor market places and allowed the Italian guys to flirt with us and give us a bracelet. We settled on eating at a place outdoors right next to the road. The wine was a little disappointing but the food was overall good. We called it an early night and decided to recoup for our 30 hour trip tomorrow. Should be interesting hopefully we don't kill each other.
Cheers.
Sightseeing Rome
Today we purposed to wake up early and conquer Rome in a day.
Despite having late night hostel peeps come in, we managed to wake up at 7:30 and hop on the bus that would drop us off at the Prima Porta station, so we could get on another bus that would drop us off on the Saxa Rubra train that would bring us to Rome. We arrived there a little after 9 and noted that we had been dropped off right in front of the Piazza Del Popolo. The Popolo, known as the "Peoples Plaza" had been the site for public executions back in the day and was a architectural beauty. It had a fountain in the middle flanked by lions and gods on the north and south side of it. It was incredible.
Bella and I didn't realize how lucky we were to arrive so early. It was very quiet and extremely peaceful. We walked down Via Del Corso and saw some of the shops before deciding to get breakfast. It cost €24 to get breakfast, which is a pretty penny when all we got was 3 croissants and a gelato. We continued on south before deciding to get on one of those hop on/hop off buses. That was a very good decision.
We saw everything in about 2 hours. The colosseum, the piazza navona, the Vatican, everything. We then decided what we wanted to see and then went from there.
We saw the Vatican, the Piazza Venezia, the Fontana di Trevi, the Pantheon, we saw a lot. I also learned one of the most pick pocketed places in Europe is at the Fontana di Trevi, so I rocked the pregnant backpack look for pretty much the entire day.
We did a lot of walking that day. By the time 7 o'clock hit my feet were hurting so badly I seriously thought about walking on my knees. The crowds were getting heavier and traffic was a nightmare.
We decided to go home around that time as we had put in a full day. We took our usual route to the hostel via metro, train, bus, boat, mammal, plane, and canoe. We got there and went to the bar and enjoyed a pitcher of sangria, a treat to us for surviving such a long day. We then headed off to our room and got ready for the night.
I had purchased Tylenol PM while in England and suggested we take one should we have more late night hostelers come in and wake us up. Bella took two and I took two as well. 20 minutes into having taken it we both were having a difficult time staying awake.
Hopefully we'll still be able to wake up tomorrow at 7:30. I guess I'll find out.
Cheers.
Despite having late night hostel peeps come in, we managed to wake up at 7:30 and hop on the bus that would drop us off at the Prima Porta station, so we could get on another bus that would drop us off on the Saxa Rubra train that would bring us to Rome. We arrived there a little after 9 and noted that we had been dropped off right in front of the Piazza Del Popolo. The Popolo, known as the "Peoples Plaza" had been the site for public executions back in the day and was a architectural beauty. It had a fountain in the middle flanked by lions and gods on the north and south side of it. It was incredible.
Bella and I didn't realize how lucky we were to arrive so early. It was very quiet and extremely peaceful. We walked down Via Del Corso and saw some of the shops before deciding to get breakfast. It cost €24 to get breakfast, which is a pretty penny when all we got was 3 croissants and a gelato. We continued on south before deciding to get on one of those hop on/hop off buses. That was a very good decision.
We saw everything in about 2 hours. The colosseum, the piazza navona, the Vatican, everything. We then decided what we wanted to see and then went from there.
We saw the Vatican, the Piazza Venezia, the Fontana di Trevi, the Pantheon, we saw a lot. I also learned one of the most pick pocketed places in Europe is at the Fontana di Trevi, so I rocked the pregnant backpack look for pretty much the entire day.
We did a lot of walking that day. By the time 7 o'clock hit my feet were hurting so badly I seriously thought about walking on my knees. The crowds were getting heavier and traffic was a nightmare.
We decided to go home around that time as we had put in a full day. We took our usual route to the hostel via metro, train, bus, boat, mammal, plane, and canoe. We got there and went to the bar and enjoyed a pitcher of sangria, a treat to us for surviving such a long day. We then headed off to our room and got ready for the night.
I had purchased Tylenol PM while in England and suggested we take one should we have more late night hostelers come in and wake us up. Bella took two and I took two as well. 20 minutes into having taken it we both were having a difficult time staying awake.
Hopefully we'll still be able to wake up tomorrow at 7:30. I guess I'll find out.
Cheers.
First impressions - Rome
Today we checked out of our luscious hotel in Campagion Lupia. I started missing it immediately when we pulled away from the worlds smallest train station platform. Our plans today consisted of partaking in the actual city of Venice. We were in the outskirts of the city and because there had been both a train and bus strike yesterday we were unable to get into the actual city. However, today we determined that we would get into the actual city. We managed to do that, however as the entire area had been on strike there were quite a few people that had the same intentions as us. So when we got off the train, we were greeted by a flood of people and their luggage. The throngs of people made us change our mind. Plus the fact that we had to lug around Genghis Khan (our pet name for Isabella's 40lb luggage) for the day. So we hopped on the next free train to Rome.
It was a 6 hour train ride that was so boring I actually nodded off (I've never done that before). Half way through however it started filling up and we had to give up our seats as people came in with reservations. So we sat in the hallway of the train and joked about how we would go into the couchette (little rooms inside the trains that had seats that could slide down into beds) that we were outside of and wake the sleeping people.
Well the conductor came in and ordered the sleeping people to make room for the people waiting outside (like me and Bella) and then he ordered us in. So there we were sitting across three guys we had just made fun of earlier and said we were going to wake up. But surely they didn't speak English. Ha. They were Irish and understood English perfectly. Fantastic.
Bella has no inhibitions so she started cheerily chatting them up. They grudgingly answered her questions before they started to really warm up to her. Meanwhile all I could do was try to repress my gag reflex from the horrible man odor that was contained in that couchette and smile. After a while though when my nose became desensitized, I joined in the conversation and enjoyed their stories for the next hour. They were backpacking and had been to quite a few places and had insulted a few people along the way. They entertained me and Bella till they got off at Florence.
Me and Bella continued to ride the train and got off when we arrived at our destination, Rome. Arriving in Rome has helped me realize how important first impressions really are. Rome, at first glance, is not impressive. Regardless, I tried to keep an open mind as we wandered around the station trying to figure out what we were doing. I realized I was getting hungry, so we decided to feed our empty stomachs with whatever looked like it was reasonably priced and tasty. We passed a few restaurants within the station and I nearly cried when I saw a restaurant with the sign Roadhouse Grill.
In one moment I was in Rome, then a second later I was at home; mentally I was home. Seeing that sign made me miss my culture, my American-ness, it made me miss my English language, it made me miss Gainesville, it made me miss Archer road, it made me miss my family, it made me miss everything that contributed to who I was. I now understand when people come to America from another country and have a hard time letting go of their own culture. It's hard.
We walked outside the station to a little restaurant and had some pizza which wasn't too bad. I tried to get some water, you know regular tap water but the lady kept trying to sell me bottled water until I finally made my point. She gives me this cup, a cup about the size that the dentist gives you your fluoride in, with a bit of water in it.......don't be so generous with your water.
I have found that staying hydrated in Europe is a bit of a challenge. In the states, you can get tap water pretty much anywhere. In Europe, they sell you bottled water and give you tiny cups of tap water, should you not want to pay for it.....kinda like me. Coke, sodas, pop, whatever you prefer to call it comes in a can the size of a RedBull, or if it doesn't come in a can, you get it in a cup and they'll charge you for refills. Europe wants you to die by heat stroke if you're poor. So I guess I'm going to die by heatstroke. Anyway, I just needed to complain about that.
After our late lunch, we go down to the metro. Now when I say down, I mean the pit of hell. 5 long flights of stairs down, oh, and Europe doesn't believe in elevators. So we haul my luggage (aka baby Kahn) and Bella's luggage (Genghis Kahn) down those 5 flights and manage to make it to the bottom after we passed purgatory. We board the metro to Floriana (or some name like that) while trying to not make it obvious to surrounding passengers that we were breathing heavily and seriously out of shape due to our luggage. We were on it for about 3 stops when we realized we were going in the wrong direction. Half-tired and delirious we giggled about it and laughed about something regarding a troll and pink hair (something that now I only half understand....it was a long day).
We got back on the right metro and headed in the correct direction, only to get off and get on another metro going in a different direction. After that we had to get on a train that took us to Saxa Rubra, then take a bus to Porta Prima, then take another bus to our hostel. It took as long as you can imagine that it took. About 2 hours from Rome to our hostel.
We arrived at our hostel, Camping Tiber, tired and anxious to get some sleep. We checked in and walked to our room. It was....interesting. I always have to remind myself to lower my expectations when I know I'm going to be sleeping at a hostel. Simply put, I was glad to have a bed to sleep in, a shower to clean myself in, and a roof over my head. Never mind the mattress was questionable and the springs squeaked, the shower only had cold water, and there was no air conditioning; we had a place to sleep, that's more than some people have. Still I'll never forget the sound of Bella's voice echoing in the bathroom when she quietly told me she missed home and wanted to go home........I knew exactly how she felt.
Cheers.
It was a 6 hour train ride that was so boring I actually nodded off (I've never done that before). Half way through however it started filling up and we had to give up our seats as people came in with reservations. So we sat in the hallway of the train and joked about how we would go into the couchette (little rooms inside the trains that had seats that could slide down into beds) that we were outside of and wake the sleeping people.
Well the conductor came in and ordered the sleeping people to make room for the people waiting outside (like me and Bella) and then he ordered us in. So there we were sitting across three guys we had just made fun of earlier and said we were going to wake up. But surely they didn't speak English. Ha. They were Irish and understood English perfectly. Fantastic.
Bella has no inhibitions so she started cheerily chatting them up. They grudgingly answered her questions before they started to really warm up to her. Meanwhile all I could do was try to repress my gag reflex from the horrible man odor that was contained in that couchette and smile. After a while though when my nose became desensitized, I joined in the conversation and enjoyed their stories for the next hour. They were backpacking and had been to quite a few places and had insulted a few people along the way. They entertained me and Bella till they got off at Florence.
Me and Bella continued to ride the train and got off when we arrived at our destination, Rome. Arriving in Rome has helped me realize how important first impressions really are. Rome, at first glance, is not impressive. Regardless, I tried to keep an open mind as we wandered around the station trying to figure out what we were doing. I realized I was getting hungry, so we decided to feed our empty stomachs with whatever looked like it was reasonably priced and tasty. We passed a few restaurants within the station and I nearly cried when I saw a restaurant with the sign Roadhouse Grill.
In one moment I was in Rome, then a second later I was at home; mentally I was home. Seeing that sign made me miss my culture, my American-ness, it made me miss my English language, it made me miss Gainesville, it made me miss Archer road, it made me miss my family, it made me miss everything that contributed to who I was. I now understand when people come to America from another country and have a hard time letting go of their own culture. It's hard.
We walked outside the station to a little restaurant and had some pizza which wasn't too bad. I tried to get some water, you know regular tap water but the lady kept trying to sell me bottled water until I finally made my point. She gives me this cup, a cup about the size that the dentist gives you your fluoride in, with a bit of water in it.......don't be so generous with your water.
I have found that staying hydrated in Europe is a bit of a challenge. In the states, you can get tap water pretty much anywhere. In Europe, they sell you bottled water and give you tiny cups of tap water, should you not want to pay for it.....kinda like me. Coke, sodas, pop, whatever you prefer to call it comes in a can the size of a RedBull, or if it doesn't come in a can, you get it in a cup and they'll charge you for refills. Europe wants you to die by heat stroke if you're poor. So I guess I'm going to die by heatstroke. Anyway, I just needed to complain about that.
After our late lunch, we go down to the metro. Now when I say down, I mean the pit of hell. 5 long flights of stairs down, oh, and Europe doesn't believe in elevators. So we haul my luggage (aka baby Kahn) and Bella's luggage (Genghis Kahn) down those 5 flights and manage to make it to the bottom after we passed purgatory. We board the metro to Floriana (or some name like that) while trying to not make it obvious to surrounding passengers that we were breathing heavily and seriously out of shape due to our luggage. We were on it for about 3 stops when we realized we were going in the wrong direction. Half-tired and delirious we giggled about it and laughed about something regarding a troll and pink hair (something that now I only half understand....it was a long day).
We got back on the right metro and headed in the correct direction, only to get off and get on another metro going in a different direction. After that we had to get on a train that took us to Saxa Rubra, then take a bus to Porta Prima, then take another bus to our hostel. It took as long as you can imagine that it took. About 2 hours from Rome to our hostel.
We arrived at our hostel, Camping Tiber, tired and anxious to get some sleep. We checked in and walked to our room. It was....interesting. I always have to remind myself to lower my expectations when I know I'm going to be sleeping at a hostel. Simply put, I was glad to have a bed to sleep in, a shower to clean myself in, and a roof over my head. Never mind the mattress was questionable and the springs squeaked, the shower only had cold water, and there was no air conditioning; we had a place to sleep, that's more than some people have. Still I'll never forget the sound of Bella's voice echoing in the bathroom when she quietly told me she missed home and wanted to go home........I knew exactly how she felt.
Cheers.
Venice...beautiful Venice.
We made it out of the hotel room at 7:20 am in Milan only to sit down in the dining room to enjoy some more of that delicious buffet. That buffet was too good to miss out on. After ingesting some more croissants and cheese we made it to the bus stop on time which took us to the train station. From the train station, we hoped that nobody would strike so that we could get on the train and go to Venice. Nobody stroked/striked (not sure which is the proper way to say that), so we hopped on the train bound for Venice. It was a four hour train ride coupled with more beautiful scenery. But what made this trip so especially interesting was the gentleman both Bella and I met on the train.
Bella and I have the habit of talking and assuming that no one understands what were saying, because they usually don't. We never say anything incriminating, we just.....speak freely. Anyway so we were chatting, like we usually do, oblivious to the train filling up with people and had a discussion on the people in our lives. The conversation carried on for some time until I had to pull something out of my backpack. Well the first thing I pulled out of my backpack was my bible as it had been resting on top and what I needed was underneath. We carried on with our chatter until the gentleman sitting next to Bella, who was sitting across from me, piped into our conversation.
Gilbert, that was his name, was an American soldier who had been stationed in Italy for three years. He asked about us and what we were doing there. Told him we were seeing the world and he expressed surprise at that, especially when he found out Bella had already been backpacking for two months by herself. We talked about this whole "seeing the world while you're young bit" before we got down to the nits and grits of the conversation. At least that's why's I'm sure God put us there.
He mentioned he saw me busting out my bible and asked us what our religious backgrounds were. We told him and he proceeded to tell us a bit about his background. He was the son of a baptist preacher when he lost his mom to brain cancer. Shortly after his dad also passed away a few years after, also with brain cancer. He told us he hadn't really talked to God since then, because he first didn't understand, then because he simply didn't know how to.
This introductory story birthed a great conversation. We explained the attributes of God (ie. loving, kind, merciful, etc.) and encouraged him to just talk to Him. We talked about aspects of the bible and challenged him (hopefully) to get started in the right direction. Prior to getting off the train he thanked us and we told him we'd be praying that he gets busy praying.
We made it to Venice and drank in it's beauty before getting on the next train to take us to our hotel. Little did we know our hotel was an hour away and in the middle of nowhere.
The station we got off at was so small we nearly missed the platform. Seriously, that is the first smallest train station I have ever seen. The next step was to find our hotel.....this, we thought, would prove to be difficult. The area we were in was heavily flanked by fields and rural communities. We walked out into the road and tried to get our bearings....to no avail. So we asked a young Italian woman in the parking lot to help point us in the direction of our hotel. We showed her the directions and she sent us off in the right direction.
Only problem was the direction included no sidewalk....the area was so rural the streets didn't have sidewalks....which meant we would have to walk into oncoming traffic. Well I saw no other way of getting there, so I started walking down the two way lane; Bella started questioning my sanity. So I asked her how she would prefer to get there, fly?
Thankfully we didn't have to construct wings to fly or walk into oncoming traffic. The young Italian woman who gave us directions pulled off the side of the road and compassionately encouraged us to get into her car. All I kept saying was "graize, graize." She drove us no more than 5 minutes away and dropped us right off at our hotel. We tried to give her money but she refused, despite our extreme insistence. We thanked her, got her name (Melena), and thanked her again. God bless her Italian soul.
Our hotel....was ostentatious. Seriously. And I can't believe how little we paid for it. Ill upload pictures but it had stone floors, high ceilings, brocaded draperies, and amazing croissants. It also has breakfast for the guests every morning....I'll stay here thank you very much.
We took a tour of the town after we settled in. It's a quaint town. People know other people passing in the street, that's how small it is. We stopped off at a pastry shop and got pastries for €.90 each then sauntered off to a street restaurant/bar and had small sandwiches and white wine for €2.50. Seriously, I could get used to a place like this.
We made it back to the hotel and decided to dedicate the evening to updating our blogs and responding to emails. That is where I find myself now....except now....I'm going to go to bed so that tomorrow I can officially see Venice. Despite the strikes.
Cheers.
Bella and I have the habit of talking and assuming that no one understands what were saying, because they usually don't. We never say anything incriminating, we just.....speak freely. Anyway so we were chatting, like we usually do, oblivious to the train filling up with people and had a discussion on the people in our lives. The conversation carried on for some time until I had to pull something out of my backpack. Well the first thing I pulled out of my backpack was my bible as it had been resting on top and what I needed was underneath. We carried on with our chatter until the gentleman sitting next to Bella, who was sitting across from me, piped into our conversation.
Gilbert, that was his name, was an American soldier who had been stationed in Italy for three years. He asked about us and what we were doing there. Told him we were seeing the world and he expressed surprise at that, especially when he found out Bella had already been backpacking for two months by herself. We talked about this whole "seeing the world while you're young bit" before we got down to the nits and grits of the conversation. At least that's why's I'm sure God put us there.
He mentioned he saw me busting out my bible and asked us what our religious backgrounds were. We told him and he proceeded to tell us a bit about his background. He was the son of a baptist preacher when he lost his mom to brain cancer. Shortly after his dad also passed away a few years after, also with brain cancer. He told us he hadn't really talked to God since then, because he first didn't understand, then because he simply didn't know how to.
This introductory story birthed a great conversation. We explained the attributes of God (ie. loving, kind, merciful, etc.) and encouraged him to just talk to Him. We talked about aspects of the bible and challenged him (hopefully) to get started in the right direction. Prior to getting off the train he thanked us and we told him we'd be praying that he gets busy praying.
We made it to Venice and drank in it's beauty before getting on the next train to take us to our hotel. Little did we know our hotel was an hour away and in the middle of nowhere.
The station we got off at was so small we nearly missed the platform. Seriously, that is the first smallest train station I have ever seen. The next step was to find our hotel.....this, we thought, would prove to be difficult. The area we were in was heavily flanked by fields and rural communities. We walked out into the road and tried to get our bearings....to no avail. So we asked a young Italian woman in the parking lot to help point us in the direction of our hotel. We showed her the directions and she sent us off in the right direction.
Only problem was the direction included no sidewalk....the area was so rural the streets didn't have sidewalks....which meant we would have to walk into oncoming traffic. Well I saw no other way of getting there, so I started walking down the two way lane; Bella started questioning my sanity. So I asked her how she would prefer to get there, fly?
Thankfully we didn't have to construct wings to fly or walk into oncoming traffic. The young Italian woman who gave us directions pulled off the side of the road and compassionately encouraged us to get into her car. All I kept saying was "graize, graize." She drove us no more than 5 minutes away and dropped us right off at our hotel. We tried to give her money but she refused, despite our extreme insistence. We thanked her, got her name (Melena), and thanked her again. God bless her Italian soul.
Our hotel....was ostentatious. Seriously. And I can't believe how little we paid for it. Ill upload pictures but it had stone floors, high ceilings, brocaded draperies, and amazing croissants. It also has breakfast for the guests every morning....I'll stay here thank you very much.
We took a tour of the town after we settled in. It's a quaint town. People know other people passing in the street, that's how small it is. We stopped off at a pastry shop and got pastries for €.90 each then sauntered off to a street restaurant/bar and had small sandwiches and white wine for €2.50. Seriously, I could get used to a place like this.
We made it back to the hotel and decided to dedicate the evening to updating our blogs and responding to emails. That is where I find myself now....except now....I'm going to go to bed so that tomorrow I can officially see Venice. Despite the strikes.
Cheers.
Milan - Brand acknowledgement
I first would like to take a second to acknowledge the brands that support me and this blog and keep us going. Today has been brought to you by croissants and borocillina. Now back to our regularly scheduled blog.
Today we woke up to a buffet of breakfast at the hotel for only €4,50. We stuffed our faces. I discovered yogurt that exists in heaven and in Italy, I tried croissants that they keep from us Americans because they acknowledge that if we knew if their secret we'd be ten times fatter than we already are, I had a sampling of the cheese and Rachel.....you would die. If I could can it up and bring some to you, you would stop living in Georgia and move to Italy, specifically Milan. Breakfast is not taken lightly here in Italy.
We finally decided after we looked like we were 9 months due that we should waddle to the bus stop to hit up good ole Milan. So we waddled.
We got on the bus and were about to put in our money when we realized their system only takes tickets. We (specifically Bella, because I don't speak Italian) told the bus driver we didn't have tickets but we had money for our bus fare and the bus driver graciously let us on despite not having tickets....and despite his grousing. He took us to the train station and we went from Monza to Milan in 15 minutes.
Around this time I started to feel a tickle in my throat......no. No, no, no body, it's vacation time and I am not getting sick. By the time we got to the station, I was not looking so hot (Bella sweetly told me this) and was feeling rundown not to mention the throat was feeling worse. So we stopped off at pharmacy conveniently located in the train station and tried to explain to the pharmacists what I had. It was quite humorous to watch Bella explain to them what I was feeling and then have the pharmacist turn to me and rattle off a bunch of questions in Italian. I could not understand at all and just looked at them helplessly. He shook his head and shoved something into my hands, nodding his head assuringly. I trusted him, despite my reservations, and bought it. I took it almost immediately after buying it, looking to see if it would provide relief. Did it ever. I looked at the box I purchased, Borocillina. I couldn't read/interpret any of the Italian ingredients in it but I determined I would bring it back to the states for my grandmother, Meme, to examine. Till her verdict comes out on it, Italian medicine is something I shall always respect.
We walked out of the station and appreciated the view. Milan in daylight looked much less intimidating than at night. The women dress stylishly and always wear heels with no less than 4 inches. The men....well there are some improvements that could be made in that department, though Bella swears they're all hot, even the bus drivers (I would say the bus drivers are average, hardly hot). Nonetheless, I let Bella drool over the Italian men. We walked around for a bit and realized there wasn't much to see. So we wandered by this underground restaurant and decided to venture into it. In this little cove, we found hunky Italian suited men eating their lunch; I felt like we had walked in on the mafia. We got a table nonetheless and enjoyed tiramisu, another dessert that I don't know the name of, and red wine. It was very lovely until we realized the place was deserted. After inquiring we discovered they were closing....at 2...in the afternoon.
We shuffled our way on out and decided to go back to the little town we were at, Monza, and enjoy that instead of the city bustle of Milan. When we arrived back we walked down a shopping area of sorts. I'm certain there is a name for it but I don't know what it would be. It was so typical Italy. It had shop lined streets and the houses on the second floors with their balconies and flowers hanging out. We wandered around for a few hours, talking, sightseeing and enjoying some gelato. It was extremely nice.
When it had become late enough we decided to go back. Little did we know that 7:30 is rush hour traffic in Milan and the surrounding areas. Little did we also know that the bus drivers are allowed to talk on their cell phones. Now we know (also all the buses are mercedes buses, Italians sit in the lap of luxury).
We made it back to the hotel and called it a night after I repacked my suitcase for the third time that night. Tomorrow we're going to set out for Venice. There is also supposed to be a strike for trains and buses tomorrow, so we'll see if we make it. Till then....
Cheers.
Today we woke up to a buffet of breakfast at the hotel for only €4,50. We stuffed our faces. I discovered yogurt that exists in heaven and in Italy, I tried croissants that they keep from us Americans because they acknowledge that if we knew if their secret we'd be ten times fatter than we already are, I had a sampling of the cheese and Rachel.....you would die. If I could can it up and bring some to you, you would stop living in Georgia and move to Italy, specifically Milan. Breakfast is not taken lightly here in Italy.
We finally decided after we looked like we were 9 months due that we should waddle to the bus stop to hit up good ole Milan. So we waddled.
We got on the bus and were about to put in our money when we realized their system only takes tickets. We (specifically Bella, because I don't speak Italian) told the bus driver we didn't have tickets but we had money for our bus fare and the bus driver graciously let us on despite not having tickets....and despite his grousing. He took us to the train station and we went from Monza to Milan in 15 minutes.
Around this time I started to feel a tickle in my throat......no. No, no, no body, it's vacation time and I am not getting sick. By the time we got to the station, I was not looking so hot (Bella sweetly told me this) and was feeling rundown not to mention the throat was feeling worse. So we stopped off at pharmacy conveniently located in the train station and tried to explain to the pharmacists what I had. It was quite humorous to watch Bella explain to them what I was feeling and then have the pharmacist turn to me and rattle off a bunch of questions in Italian. I could not understand at all and just looked at them helplessly. He shook his head and shoved something into my hands, nodding his head assuringly. I trusted him, despite my reservations, and bought it. I took it almost immediately after buying it, looking to see if it would provide relief. Did it ever. I looked at the box I purchased, Borocillina. I couldn't read/interpret any of the Italian ingredients in it but I determined I would bring it back to the states for my grandmother, Meme, to examine. Till her verdict comes out on it, Italian medicine is something I shall always respect.
We walked out of the station and appreciated the view. Milan in daylight looked much less intimidating than at night. The women dress stylishly and always wear heels with no less than 4 inches. The men....well there are some improvements that could be made in that department, though Bella swears they're all hot, even the bus drivers (I would say the bus drivers are average, hardly hot). Nonetheless, I let Bella drool over the Italian men. We walked around for a bit and realized there wasn't much to see. So we wandered by this underground restaurant and decided to venture into it. In this little cove, we found hunky Italian suited men eating their lunch; I felt like we had walked in on the mafia. We got a table nonetheless and enjoyed tiramisu, another dessert that I don't know the name of, and red wine. It was very lovely until we realized the place was deserted. After inquiring we discovered they were closing....at 2...in the afternoon.
We shuffled our way on out and decided to go back to the little town we were at, Monza, and enjoy that instead of the city bustle of Milan. When we arrived back we walked down a shopping area of sorts. I'm certain there is a name for it but I don't know what it would be. It was so typical Italy. It had shop lined streets and the houses on the second floors with their balconies and flowers hanging out. We wandered around for a few hours, talking, sightseeing and enjoying some gelato. It was extremely nice.
When it had become late enough we decided to go back. Little did we know that 7:30 is rush hour traffic in Milan and the surrounding areas. Little did we also know that the bus drivers are allowed to talk on their cell phones. Now we know (also all the buses are mercedes buses, Italians sit in the lap of luxury).
We made it back to the hotel and called it a night after I repacked my suitcase for the third time that night. Tomorrow we're going to set out for Venice. There is also supposed to be a strike for trains and buses tomorrow, so we'll see if we make it. Till then....
Cheers.
Milan, fashion capital
At 5:40am Belgium time, my butt was out of bed. Which means it was 11:40pm Florida time. It was weird to think that while I was getting up the peeps I know in my home town were going to bed getting ready for the next day, which for me had already started. We bustled our way to the station and then headed off on to begin our 14 hour trip to Milan. The first leg of it was 8 hours long and the destination was Zurich. This part of our trip took us through the better parts of Belgium, Germany, Luxembourg, and France. We jumped off at Luxembourg so that we could say we've been to Luxembourg; literally stepped off the train and stood there for 1 minute on the platform and then got back on the train. We can be lame sometimes.
While being in a train all day is pretty lame in of itself, the scenery passing by outside our windows kept me from falling asleep, unlike Bella....who passed out the first second she got. She passes out when she's bored, and being on a train all day is pretty boring....though really she's just half cat.
The scenery was gorgeous though. I saw abandoned buildings in such beautiful settings that made me crave my "real" camera. I saw meadows that made me swear Bambi was filmed there. I saw meandering meadows that reflected the mountains they sat beneath. I saw pine trees I thought only existed in the imagination. I saw deprived impoverished communities. I saw a picturesque lake with an abandoned canoe nestled in the cove of a mountain. Truly Belgium and Luxembourg is made up of beautiful scenery.
Switzerland was even more beautiful. We had to go through the Swiss Alps to get to Milan and wow......words cannot describe the majesty I saw. The mountains looked like what you would see on screensavers. They were snow capped with cascades of water coming down the sides and they stretched for miles. It was amazing.
We had to switch trains due to a landslide which made our arrival into Milan an hour and some change later than we anticipated. Regardless we arrived. And it was raining. It rains at almost every city we first arrive at. Anyway we scurried off the train and headed down the platform that reminded me of London's platform, however stepping out into the lobby it was apparent we weren't in London. The train station alone exhibited incredible architecture. The ceiling was high and flanked by etched faces while the floor was covered by mosaics. It was very beautiful and I would have appreciated it more had I not had a nagging feeling. I felt like I was being watched.
Milan was pretty alive at 10:30 at night. So we attempted to get ourselves a place to stay for the night at the local internet cafe. We did so successfully and wandered outside to find ourselves a taxi. Walking down the streets was a strange feeling; I still felt like I was being watched.
Bella and I were talking as we walked towards the taxi area and she mentioned she felt like she was being watched; I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt like this. For awhile I thought my imagination was overreacting.
We managed to make it to the hotel safe and sound. We were excited about our digs; the hotel was new and had unlimited wifi. This, to us, was heaven.
We scrambled into our beds and surfed the internet till we fell asleep.
I like Milan already.
Cheers.
While being in a train all day is pretty lame in of itself, the scenery passing by outside our windows kept me from falling asleep, unlike Bella....who passed out the first second she got. She passes out when she's bored, and being on a train all day is pretty boring....though really she's just half cat.
The scenery was gorgeous though. I saw abandoned buildings in such beautiful settings that made me crave my "real" camera. I saw meadows that made me swear Bambi was filmed there. I saw meandering meadows that reflected the mountains they sat beneath. I saw pine trees I thought only existed in the imagination. I saw deprived impoverished communities. I saw a picturesque lake with an abandoned canoe nestled in the cove of a mountain. Truly Belgium and Luxembourg is made up of beautiful scenery.
Switzerland was even more beautiful. We had to go through the Swiss Alps to get to Milan and wow......words cannot describe the majesty I saw. The mountains looked like what you would see on screensavers. They were snow capped with cascades of water coming down the sides and they stretched for miles. It was amazing.
We had to switch trains due to a landslide which made our arrival into Milan an hour and some change later than we anticipated. Regardless we arrived. And it was raining. It rains at almost every city we first arrive at. Anyway we scurried off the train and headed down the platform that reminded me of London's platform, however stepping out into the lobby it was apparent we weren't in London. The train station alone exhibited incredible architecture. The ceiling was high and flanked by etched faces while the floor was covered by mosaics. It was very beautiful and I would have appreciated it more had I not had a nagging feeling. I felt like I was being watched.
Milan was pretty alive at 10:30 at night. So we attempted to get ourselves a place to stay for the night at the local internet cafe. We did so successfully and wandered outside to find ourselves a taxi. Walking down the streets was a strange feeling; I still felt like I was being watched.
Bella and I were talking as we walked towards the taxi area and she mentioned she felt like she was being watched; I was glad I wasn't the only one who felt like this. For awhile I thought my imagination was overreacting.
We managed to make it to the hotel safe and sound. We were excited about our digs; the hotel was new and had unlimited wifi. This, to us, was heaven.
We scrambled into our beds and surfed the internet till we fell asleep.
I like Milan already.
Cheers.
Belgium, land that I shall never visit again.
The first thing I noticed about Brussels train station is that it is very clean....and everything is written in French. French isn't so bad if you can speak and read it. Unfortunately, I can do neither.
We made it to the ticket counter and purchased the next day's tickets to Milan, a 13 hour train ride through the Alps for about $20 each. We then attempted our way to our hotel. I had incorrectly booked for the wrong date and we were both hoping I could just finagle a few things and get the date changed to today as they seemed to still have a few rooms left.
It was on our way to the hotel that Brussels made it's first grand appearance to me. It was a 60 degree, dreary, semi-rainy day when it first made it's introduction to my sleep deprived eyes. Concisely speaking, I wasn't impressed with it. The few skyscraper buildings and lack of bustle told me everything I needed to know; Brussels didn't have much to offer to it's visitors other than chocolate.
We ended up getting a cab for about $10 bucks each because we had no idea where the hotel was. The cabbie was from Morocco, his name was Abel. After dropping us off I marched into the Residence Aryaan and finagled. We got the room for €50 (about $70) which was a better price than for some of the hostels in the area. Check in time was 2, but the clerk told us we could be back by 1-1:30 and it would be ready. We got some food at a small local restaurant, it looked kind of sketch, but ended up being really good. After eating we were even more tired and made our way back to the hotel. Our room didn't end up being ready until 2:15. I could have choked the clerk, but a room was a room, however long it took (still could have choked him though). Once inside we took showers and went straight to bed. Never mind the bed was made of cement and the pillows were cobblestone rocks they put a pillowcase over; it was a bed. We slept for about 3-4 hours till we roused. Bella went to feed her Internet addiction for about 2 hours while I decided to catch up on writing my blog.
I wrote until she came back; turns out she didn't use the internet. A Congo woman was using it...she was catching up on her Congo news. We debated as to what we would do with the rest of our evening.
I should tell you something. You know when you think of the capital of a country you think bustling city? Well Brussels is not that. We were in the heart of it and a car would drive by our street every 10 minutes. And we were pretty much on a main road. So judging by the lack of traffic, not to mention activity, we judged that we wouldn't be doing anything tonight; not because we didn't want to, but because there was nothing to do.
I think I have come to the conclusion that Brussels is my least favorite city. I feel that I have seen a healthy sample of the men in Brussels and my conclusion is that they are all......well I probably shouldn't say anything. It probably wouldn't be politically correct.
Nevertheless there is not much to do or see in Brussels. My advice regarding Belgium? Skip it altogether if you can. It has good chocolate (though I haven't tasted any yet, but I've been told) and waffles (haven't tasted that either). But so far as I can tell the two inventions came about due to boredom.
We slept the night away and listened to the sounds of motorcars racing by our window at 80 mph. I'm excited to get on our train tomorrow at 7:33 to take me to Italy.
Belgium hasn't been the most pleasant experience, but never the less it was an experience. One that hopefully I shall never repeat.
Cheers.
We made it to the ticket counter and purchased the next day's tickets to Milan, a 13 hour train ride through the Alps for about $20 each. We then attempted our way to our hotel. I had incorrectly booked for the wrong date and we were both hoping I could just finagle a few things and get the date changed to today as they seemed to still have a few rooms left.
It was on our way to the hotel that Brussels made it's first grand appearance to me. It was a 60 degree, dreary, semi-rainy day when it first made it's introduction to my sleep deprived eyes. Concisely speaking, I wasn't impressed with it. The few skyscraper buildings and lack of bustle told me everything I needed to know; Brussels didn't have much to offer to it's visitors other than chocolate.
We ended up getting a cab for about $10 bucks each because we had no idea where the hotel was. The cabbie was from Morocco, his name was Abel. After dropping us off I marched into the Residence Aryaan and finagled. We got the room for €50 (about $70) which was a better price than for some of the hostels in the area. Check in time was 2, but the clerk told us we could be back by 1-1:30 and it would be ready. We got some food at a small local restaurant, it looked kind of sketch, but ended up being really good. After eating we were even more tired and made our way back to the hotel. Our room didn't end up being ready until 2:15. I could have choked the clerk, but a room was a room, however long it took (still could have choked him though). Once inside we took showers and went straight to bed. Never mind the bed was made of cement and the pillows were cobblestone rocks they put a pillowcase over; it was a bed. We slept for about 3-4 hours till we roused. Bella went to feed her Internet addiction for about 2 hours while I decided to catch up on writing my blog.
I wrote until she came back; turns out she didn't use the internet. A Congo woman was using it...she was catching up on her Congo news. We debated as to what we would do with the rest of our evening.
I should tell you something. You know when you think of the capital of a country you think bustling city? Well Brussels is not that. We were in the heart of it and a car would drive by our street every 10 minutes. And we were pretty much on a main road. So judging by the lack of traffic, not to mention activity, we judged that we wouldn't be doing anything tonight; not because we didn't want to, but because there was nothing to do.
I think I have come to the conclusion that Brussels is my least favorite city. I feel that I have seen a healthy sample of the men in Brussels and my conclusion is that they are all......well I probably shouldn't say anything. It probably wouldn't be politically correct.
Nevertheless there is not much to do or see in Brussels. My advice regarding Belgium? Skip it altogether if you can. It has good chocolate (though I haven't tasted any yet, but I've been told) and waffles (haven't tasted that either). But so far as I can tell the two inventions came about due to boredom.
We slept the night away and listened to the sounds of motorcars racing by our window at 80 mph. I'm excited to get on our train tomorrow at 7:33 to take me to Italy.
Belgium hasn't been the most pleasant experience, but never the less it was an experience. One that hopefully I shall never repeat.
Cheers.
Stuck in London.
I don't like you London. In fact I've decided I don't miss you either.
Today began as any ordinary day (but then again my days haven't been too ordinary lately so maybe I shouldn't use that phrase). Bella and I both did our laundry, watched a movie, and sat around waiting for our flight at 6:10. We were taking a certain flight company out of London, RyanAir, maybe you've heard of them. Based in only Europe, they are notorious for their lack of customer service and "you're on your own attitude." Rumors can be heard that their pilots are pilots in training but I tried not to entertain that idea. Suffice to say we've heard horror stories of RyanAir overbooking their flights and people having to buy another ticket, despite already having bought one. RyanAir isn't big on customer service......Europe in general isn't big on customer service, but that's another story for another rainy day.
In an attempt to ensure that we didn't have any problems I told Bella that we should be there 3 hours early to ensure we make our flight. We did. But 3 hours wasn't really enough. Even 10 hours wouldn't have been enough. But I digress. We stood in line to check-in our luggage and heard the horror stories of all the people around us about RyanAir. Ha. We weren't going to be in that same boat. No sir. We is smart.
Well I went to the kiosk and scanned my ticket; it didn't scan (clue 1). I rejoined Bella, she told me our flight times had changed (clue 2). I went to look at my ticket it said 6:10 (clue 3). And then asked a friendly British fellow why I couldn't scan my ticket in. He said "here lemme have a look." I let him look. It was as if it happened in slow motion....he turned and looked at me and said "what time is it?" I replied "I'm here early, it's only 5:10." He looked closely at me and I knew what he was going to say before he said it "oh love, that was 6:10 this morning....we operate on a 24 hour clock here."
Oh...........................goodbye $80 and goodbye Milan, Italy.
Bella looked at my face and I told her the news. We quickly thanked him and got out of the queue (line). We had to create a plan fast. Plane tickets out of Stansted, England were $600. Not an option. We could ask Bella's sister to come back and pick us up. Also, not an option. We could take a train to Paris and then to Milan. That's an option.
So we got on the next train into London. Blasted London. Earlier, we had exchanged all our British currency for the Euro, so we were really going to wing it. I had a few extra dollars on my tube card so that hopefully would get us to where we need to be. Through a few slight of hands, we would pass that one card back between one person to another....the attendants never caught on.
We then arrived at the station, St. Pancras International Station, that had trains that could take us to Paris. The only problem was that they were booked for the next 3 days. Not an option. But he did have two tickets left for Brussels at 6:19am next day.
Now our options were to get a hostel in London which would be a bit pricey and hang out there for the next 10 hours....or save our money (as we just lost $80) and hang out at the train station. I rationalized that 10 hours isn't a long time in the grand scheme of things so we might as well just get those two tickets and wait it out. We bought the tickets and looked at our new surroundings for the next 10 hours. I realized I wouldn't sleep at all that night.
We decided to head to a local McDonalds, get cheap dinner, and use their wifi to get tomorrow nights hostel in Brussels. Booking a hostel shouldn't be that difficult but we ran into a few problems here and there (ie. Booking on the wrong day, losing our deposit, etc). Suffice to say we were delirious enough to laugh it all off.
The McDonalds closed at 1 o'clock so we made our way back to the train station. It hit me like a load of bricks. We were homeless. At least for that one night. It was humbling to say the least. You forget how much you appreciate clean teeth, a nice hot shower, your own space, and mostly your own bed. And do I miss my bed. It was here, during this what I might be inclined to call low point, that I began to think about catching the next flight out of here. It wouldn't take all that much effort. American Airlines would probably be happy to work with me.
But then....where's the adventure? Where's the good stories? Where's the real life nitty-gritty experiences? They wouldn't exist if I didn't do this. So I mentally told myself I was going to do this and I was just going to leave the rest to my Maker. If that moment didn't show me anything else about life, it most certainly showed me that God's in control, even when they are out of control....and that night....I was feeling like it was out of control.
There ended up being a Starbucks that was open all night so we sat there and abused their wifi and played games. Me and Bella also saw each other go through every mood ever known to woman. We giggled, got grumpy with each other, got tired, got moody, I mean every aspect of a woman's human emotion was seen that night. It was a night I shall never forget.
The last few hours dragged by. Bella really had a hard time staying awake. I've never seen a girl fall asleep in 10 seconds. We made it though, and made it onto the train. 3 hour train ride to Brussels under the English Channel and we both slept through it. I only ever recall waking up to the stops along the way, otherwise, I slept like a baby. I hope the previous day's experience doesn't carry on over into our unintended stop in Brussels. But I guess we shall see what the day brings.
Cheers.
Today began as any ordinary day (but then again my days haven't been too ordinary lately so maybe I shouldn't use that phrase). Bella and I both did our laundry, watched a movie, and sat around waiting for our flight at 6:10. We were taking a certain flight company out of London, RyanAir, maybe you've heard of them. Based in only Europe, they are notorious for their lack of customer service and "you're on your own attitude." Rumors can be heard that their pilots are pilots in training but I tried not to entertain that idea. Suffice to say we've heard horror stories of RyanAir overbooking their flights and people having to buy another ticket, despite already having bought one. RyanAir isn't big on customer service......Europe in general isn't big on customer service, but that's another story for another rainy day.
In an attempt to ensure that we didn't have any problems I told Bella that we should be there 3 hours early to ensure we make our flight. We did. But 3 hours wasn't really enough. Even 10 hours wouldn't have been enough. But I digress. We stood in line to check-in our luggage and heard the horror stories of all the people around us about RyanAir. Ha. We weren't going to be in that same boat. No sir. We is smart.
Well I went to the kiosk and scanned my ticket; it didn't scan (clue 1). I rejoined Bella, she told me our flight times had changed (clue 2). I went to look at my ticket it said 6:10 (clue 3). And then asked a friendly British fellow why I couldn't scan my ticket in. He said "here lemme have a look." I let him look. It was as if it happened in slow motion....he turned and looked at me and said "what time is it?" I replied "I'm here early, it's only 5:10." He looked closely at me and I knew what he was going to say before he said it "oh love, that was 6:10 this morning....we operate on a 24 hour clock here."
Oh...........................goodbye $80 and goodbye Milan, Italy.
Bella looked at my face and I told her the news. We quickly thanked him and got out of the queue (line). We had to create a plan fast. Plane tickets out of Stansted, England were $600. Not an option. We could ask Bella's sister to come back and pick us up. Also, not an option. We could take a train to Paris and then to Milan. That's an option.
So we got on the next train into London. Blasted London. Earlier, we had exchanged all our British currency for the Euro, so we were really going to wing it. I had a few extra dollars on my tube card so that hopefully would get us to where we need to be. Through a few slight of hands, we would pass that one card back between one person to another....the attendants never caught on.
We then arrived at the station, St. Pancras International Station, that had trains that could take us to Paris. The only problem was that they were booked for the next 3 days. Not an option. But he did have two tickets left for Brussels at 6:19am next day.
Now our options were to get a hostel in London which would be a bit pricey and hang out there for the next 10 hours....or save our money (as we just lost $80) and hang out at the train station. I rationalized that 10 hours isn't a long time in the grand scheme of things so we might as well just get those two tickets and wait it out. We bought the tickets and looked at our new surroundings for the next 10 hours. I realized I wouldn't sleep at all that night.
We decided to head to a local McDonalds, get cheap dinner, and use their wifi to get tomorrow nights hostel in Brussels. Booking a hostel shouldn't be that difficult but we ran into a few problems here and there (ie. Booking on the wrong day, losing our deposit, etc). Suffice to say we were delirious enough to laugh it all off.
The McDonalds closed at 1 o'clock so we made our way back to the train station. It hit me like a load of bricks. We were homeless. At least for that one night. It was humbling to say the least. You forget how much you appreciate clean teeth, a nice hot shower, your own space, and mostly your own bed. And do I miss my bed. It was here, during this what I might be inclined to call low point, that I began to think about catching the next flight out of here. It wouldn't take all that much effort. American Airlines would probably be happy to work with me.
But then....where's the adventure? Where's the good stories? Where's the real life nitty-gritty experiences? They wouldn't exist if I didn't do this. So I mentally told myself I was going to do this and I was just going to leave the rest to my Maker. If that moment didn't show me anything else about life, it most certainly showed me that God's in control, even when they are out of control....and that night....I was feeling like it was out of control.
There ended up being a Starbucks that was open all night so we sat there and abused their wifi and played games. Me and Bella also saw each other go through every mood ever known to woman. We giggled, got grumpy with each other, got tired, got moody, I mean every aspect of a woman's human emotion was seen that night. It was a night I shall never forget.
The last few hours dragged by. Bella really had a hard time staying awake. I've never seen a girl fall asleep in 10 seconds. We made it though, and made it onto the train. 3 hour train ride to Brussels under the English Channel and we both slept through it. I only ever recall waking up to the stops along the way, otherwise, I slept like a baby. I hope the previous day's experience doesn't carry on over into our unintended stop in Brussels. But I guess we shall see what the day brings.
Cheers.
Movie day
Goodbye London; goodbye graffittied walls, Mary Poppins rooftops, gothic cathedral spires that point to the sky, people who give me directions with their friendly British eyes, to their flavor-lacking cuisine, to their fickle weather, to the country that holds within it my favorite prince and princess. I shall miss you. Surprisingly. I didn't think I would miss you all that much, but you were my first. My first country outside of the States to visit and because of you I understand the addiction to travel. I understand why people who do it want to see the world. Because I do too. Even if it is tiring.
Today we spent the day lounging around in bed and then finally rousing at 10am. We watched the movie Marley and Me (which is great movie, do watch, fantastic movie) and finally got out the door at 1-ish. We went to Daniela's and Kyle's old house and helped them clean it so that they can get their deposit back. Cleaning the house was good for my soul. It reminded me of when I cleaned the house with my mom on Saturday's, we'd have good chats, good long soulful chats. I miss those days.
We cleaned for a few hours till deciding that the job was sufficient enough and headed off to the grocery store. We got some stuff and got ice cream, then drove home with the windows down. As weird as it was to be in a small car, driving on the wrong side of the road, that will probably be one of my favorite memories.
We got home and lounged around even more. We watched Invincible and a few other movies. Its been a while since I've watched that many movies. But it was nice and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I prepared for our flight tomorrow which is scheduled to fly out in the evening. I'll probably do some laundry and repack again. But until then I'll just sleep.
Cheers.
Today we spent the day lounging around in bed and then finally rousing at 10am. We watched the movie Marley and Me (which is great movie, do watch, fantastic movie) and finally got out the door at 1-ish. We went to Daniela's and Kyle's old house and helped them clean it so that they can get their deposit back. Cleaning the house was good for my soul. It reminded me of when I cleaned the house with my mom on Saturday's, we'd have good chats, good long soulful chats. I miss those days.
We cleaned for a few hours till deciding that the job was sufficient enough and headed off to the grocery store. We got some stuff and got ice cream, then drove home with the windows down. As weird as it was to be in a small car, driving on the wrong side of the road, that will probably be one of my favorite memories.
We got home and lounged around even more. We watched Invincible and a few other movies. Its been a while since I've watched that many movies. But it was nice and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I prepared for our flight tomorrow which is scheduled to fly out in the evening. I'll probably do some laundry and repack again. But until then I'll just sleep.
Cheers.
Tea with the queen...
Agenda today? Tea with the queen.
I rolled out of bed later than I intended but I count it an accomplishment when I wake up at all. So I mosy-ed to the kitchen to have breakfast and to get my day started. Today I had planned to go see Windsor Castle; the residence of the queen. It wasn't far from where I was staying at Brunel University. A bus, two trains, and bam. You were literally dropped off at the front door of Windsor Castle. Seriously. Not even kidding. You walk out of the train station, you see the castle, 5 minutes walk later you're at the front door. Very convenient.
I had picked up a straggler, Dr. D, when I met him in the kitchen that morning and I knew he had no exciting plans. So I invited him along on my little excursion. He gladly joined me. So off we went to see the glorious castle. Sovereigns have been living there for the past 900-950 years, it's also one of the oldest castles in England (at least thats what the sign said when I went in). So I knew this would be pretty sweet.
So anyway we arrived there, walked to the castle entrance, which had a pretty massive waiting line, and paid our £15 to get in. They sent us through security, gave us these audio tour devices and sent us on our way. We walked through the outside courtyard which was pretty nice just like a nice stately outside courtyard should be. Told us the surrounding exterior walls that protect the interior was 4 meters thick and that the castle was on a very advantageous spot as it was well protected. We wandered past the exterior part of the walls and wandered into the more central courtyard of the castle. It was here you could look down over the wall and see the most beautiful amazing garden filled with flowers ever. It was so beautiful. I could just imagine Queen Elisabeth walking through the paths of roses in her simple frocks like she does.
I should clarify, like I always like to do, that the entrance to the castle didn't allow us to see everything, just the state apartments, Mary's doll house, and the church within the castle. "Well that's not a lot" you say. Not really. The entire thing took us about 3 hours. And we didn't even see the doll house.
That was itself enough. We didn't see the round tower and the queens private residence because, of course, that's her living space. Though I don't know how one person could use all that space. Anyway.
So we decided to tackle the state apartments. At first I thought we were going to see the "hotel rooms" of the Windsor, but it contained the king and queens drawing room, their appearance room, banquet halls, coronation rooms, etc. I could tell you so much but I realize you have a short attention span so I'll try to hit the highlights. Also you're going to have to use some imagination here as they strictly, and I mean, strictly did not allow photography....even though I did snap one fuzzy photo....but other than that I have nothing to show you when I get home.
So highlights. I saw Rembrandt's self portraits (several actually), Rubens paintings, almost all of the English paintings that were in my European history books in high school, I saw gold covered plates....like the real thing and....the ballroom which I could have died happily in. It was amazing, it was as if Disney's Cinderella ballroom came to life and I saw it today. It had crystal chandeliers, smooth wood floors, tapestry covered walls, high ceilings, mirrors on every other wall, silver tables and paintings tastefully dispersed. I saw the banquet room which was amazing as well. The room was made of dark wood and fruit was carved out in the walls, but in 3D, so the fruit came out of the wall. Greek gods were painted on the ceilings celebrating food (Katherine would have loved this room). It had more paintings over the fireplace with other Greek gods dining. I saw the coronation room. Theres YouTube videos of it. Watch it and know that I was standing in that room.
What else........it's hard for me to remember what I saw because I saw a lot of it. It wasn't opulence that I saw.....it was just a lot of intricate details, but rich intricate details. Something did stick out in my mind....so we're in this castle that belongs to sovereignty and I would walk by a chair where the fabric was worn down or a tapestry was faded and I would think: "Aren't they rich? Can't they fix that?" As I walked along I got my answer. Yes, the queen is quite wealthy and she could fix that, but they measure wealth differently. You're probably aware of old rich vs new rich.... Well same sort of mentality.
She could fix it so that the chair looks newer, but the English value old things, because their history is in that. It doesn't necessarily have to look new for them to demonstrate their wealthy. They would rather leave it as it is and value it for its history rather than for it's newness.
We then walked over to the church and wandered through it. It was very stately and had the helmets and crests of the current knights near the interior, by the altar of the church. What caught my attention in this church however, was an emotive marble statue. It had the body of a young woman lying on a bed covered by a sheet with only her hand peeking out from underneath it. Around her bedside were women weeping in anguish. Above the sheeted marble corpse was a woman looking up to the heavens in joy. She was flanked by two angels, one of whom was holding a small baby. I had a hard time looking away from this marble scene. I was torn between weeping with the women by the bedside and rejoicing with the woman who was looking upward. The audio guide device told us this was made in honor of one the queens who died when giving birth to her child, who also died during the birthing process. This was a common scene in early English history. It was rare women survived birthing children.
Dr. D and I continued walking through the church and then began discussing religion. He is not a religious man but a moral man, so suffice to say it was an interesting talk, one where I may have mentioned Romans."..."........................
We grabbed a late lunch before I headed off to the station to leave Brunel and head to Epping where Bella and her sister lived. We got back in a timely manner and I headed off to the station.
I was supposed to arrive in Cambridge at 7:23 but due to tube delays, train delays, fire on the train tracks delays, and every kind of delay you can think of I arrived there almost an hour and a half late. Kyle, his wife Daniela, and Bella picked me up from the station and we traveled to their brand new home on base. Kyle works for the Air Force and thank goodness he does. It's kinda nice to see familiar American things. Me and Bella got ready for bed and passed the heck out. I was tired. Till tomorrow.
Cheers.
I rolled out of bed later than I intended but I count it an accomplishment when I wake up at all. So I mosy-ed to the kitchen to have breakfast and to get my day started. Today I had planned to go see Windsor Castle; the residence of the queen. It wasn't far from where I was staying at Brunel University. A bus, two trains, and bam. You were literally dropped off at the front door of Windsor Castle. Seriously. Not even kidding. You walk out of the train station, you see the castle, 5 minutes walk later you're at the front door. Very convenient.
I had picked up a straggler, Dr. D, when I met him in the kitchen that morning and I knew he had no exciting plans. So I invited him along on my little excursion. He gladly joined me. So off we went to see the glorious castle. Sovereigns have been living there for the past 900-950 years, it's also one of the oldest castles in England (at least thats what the sign said when I went in). So I knew this would be pretty sweet.
So anyway we arrived there, walked to the castle entrance, which had a pretty massive waiting line, and paid our £15 to get in. They sent us through security, gave us these audio tour devices and sent us on our way. We walked through the outside courtyard which was pretty nice just like a nice stately outside courtyard should be. Told us the surrounding exterior walls that protect the interior was 4 meters thick and that the castle was on a very advantageous spot as it was well protected. We wandered past the exterior part of the walls and wandered into the more central courtyard of the castle. It was here you could look down over the wall and see the most beautiful amazing garden filled with flowers ever. It was so beautiful. I could just imagine Queen Elisabeth walking through the paths of roses in her simple frocks like she does.
I should clarify, like I always like to do, that the entrance to the castle didn't allow us to see everything, just the state apartments, Mary's doll house, and the church within the castle. "Well that's not a lot" you say. Not really. The entire thing took us about 3 hours. And we didn't even see the doll house.
That was itself enough. We didn't see the round tower and the queens private residence because, of course, that's her living space. Though I don't know how one person could use all that space. Anyway.
So we decided to tackle the state apartments. At first I thought we were going to see the "hotel rooms" of the Windsor, but it contained the king and queens drawing room, their appearance room, banquet halls, coronation rooms, etc. I could tell you so much but I realize you have a short attention span so I'll try to hit the highlights. Also you're going to have to use some imagination here as they strictly, and I mean, strictly did not allow photography....even though I did snap one fuzzy photo....but other than that I have nothing to show you when I get home.
So highlights. I saw Rembrandt's self portraits (several actually), Rubens paintings, almost all of the English paintings that were in my European history books in high school, I saw gold covered plates....like the real thing and....the ballroom which I could have died happily in. It was amazing, it was as if Disney's Cinderella ballroom came to life and I saw it today. It had crystal chandeliers, smooth wood floors, tapestry covered walls, high ceilings, mirrors on every other wall, silver tables and paintings tastefully dispersed. I saw the banquet room which was amazing as well. The room was made of dark wood and fruit was carved out in the walls, but in 3D, so the fruit came out of the wall. Greek gods were painted on the ceilings celebrating food (Katherine would have loved this room). It had more paintings over the fireplace with other Greek gods dining. I saw the coronation room. Theres YouTube videos of it. Watch it and know that I was standing in that room.
What else........it's hard for me to remember what I saw because I saw a lot of it. It wasn't opulence that I saw.....it was just a lot of intricate details, but rich intricate details. Something did stick out in my mind....so we're in this castle that belongs to sovereignty and I would walk by a chair where the fabric was worn down or a tapestry was faded and I would think: "Aren't they rich? Can't they fix that?" As I walked along I got my answer. Yes, the queen is quite wealthy and she could fix that, but they measure wealth differently. You're probably aware of old rich vs new rich.... Well same sort of mentality.
She could fix it so that the chair looks newer, but the English value old things, because their history is in that. It doesn't necessarily have to look new for them to demonstrate their wealthy. They would rather leave it as it is and value it for its history rather than for it's newness.
We then walked over to the church and wandered through it. It was very stately and had the helmets and crests of the current knights near the interior, by the altar of the church. What caught my attention in this church however, was an emotive marble statue. It had the body of a young woman lying on a bed covered by a sheet with only her hand peeking out from underneath it. Around her bedside were women weeping in anguish. Above the sheeted marble corpse was a woman looking up to the heavens in joy. She was flanked by two angels, one of whom was holding a small baby. I had a hard time looking away from this marble scene. I was torn between weeping with the women by the bedside and rejoicing with the woman who was looking upward. The audio guide device told us this was made in honor of one the queens who died when giving birth to her child, who also died during the birthing process. This was a common scene in early English history. It was rare women survived birthing children.
Dr. D and I continued walking through the church and then began discussing religion. He is not a religious man but a moral man, so suffice to say it was an interesting talk, one where I may have mentioned Romans."..."........................
We grabbed a late lunch before I headed off to the station to leave Brunel and head to Epping where Bella and her sister lived. We got back in a timely manner and I headed off to the station.
I was supposed to arrive in Cambridge at 7:23 but due to tube delays, train delays, fire on the train tracks delays, and every kind of delay you can think of I arrived there almost an hour and a half late. Kyle, his wife Daniela, and Bella picked me up from the station and we traveled to their brand new home on base. Kyle works for the Air Force and thank goodness he does. It's kinda nice to see familiar American things. Me and Bella got ready for bed and passed the heck out. I was tired. Till tomorrow.
Cheers.
Bath...(pronounced Baath)
Today was the day I was meant to stick my feet in the English Channel. I could just feel it in my bones when I woke up this morning.
Dr. W had set up an appointment with Dr. E in Bournemouth today and whoever wanted to come could join along. Myself and 6 other people in the program decided to tag along for this appointment with talks of perhaps stopping off at Bath in the way back. We ventured out at 8 in the morning and took the bus which took us to the tube, which took us to the train, which finally....after 4 hours....landed us in Bournemouth (don't feel too much pity for us we amused ourselves immensely, I'll post pictures of the goodness later). Stepping off the train in Bournemouth you could just tell you were in a different place. The air was warmer and there were children screeching. Turns out the sounds of children screeching was actually the sounds of the seagulls.
We met Dr. E there and wandered down the town with our guide. He told us interesting things to do around town, however the only question I really wanted an answer to was the price of gas here. He told me it was about £6 a gallon. That amounts to $10 a gallon (roughly speaking).
......um what? Now I know why smart cars are such a hit over here.
We continued down the slope and soon beheld the English Channel. I could smell the salty air. After 2.5 weeks of no ocean, the smell was delicious. Shoes, backpacks, socks, went flying as we raced into the water. We were clearly Floridians....or tourists...take your pick. We took pictures of it, took pictures of us in it, did everything but submerge our cameras into the water. It was beautiful. After we became one with the water, we became disinterested because our stomaches became interested in food. We went to this little fish and chips place right by the ocean and had our lunch there. We talked to Dr. E and savored our food as well as his answers to our questions.
Concluding the lunch we walked back to the station with glances at an ocean we may never see again. I tried to take it in. It was an amazing view. It's an ocean flanked by cliffs, lands and islands, with red-nosed people ambling by a carnival and ice cream stands peppering the coastline.....I felt that if we all should don Victorian style bathing suits we should fit in perfectly. Hopefully, I shall never forget what it looks like.
We returned to the station and started to plan our trip to Bath. Once we settle what train to take and what direction we should go in, we set out on our journey. Once in the train though I suddenly didn't feel like seeing Bath, so I decided to join Dr. W back to Uxbridge. I felt like I made a good choice. I caught up on my paper a bit more and had lovely conversations with her. We arrived in Uxbridge 2 hours later and I decided to commit the rest of the night to writing some more of my paper. I got bored after awhile and went to the kitchen to eat. Then went back to write some more. Alas, this is where I'm at...still writing my paper...until of course I decided to take another break to blog this. So I suppose I should get back to my paper, eh?
Cheers.
Dr. W had set up an appointment with Dr. E in Bournemouth today and whoever wanted to come could join along. Myself and 6 other people in the program decided to tag along for this appointment with talks of perhaps stopping off at Bath in the way back. We ventured out at 8 in the morning and took the bus which took us to the tube, which took us to the train, which finally....after 4 hours....landed us in Bournemouth (don't feel too much pity for us we amused ourselves immensely, I'll post pictures of the goodness later). Stepping off the train in Bournemouth you could just tell you were in a different place. The air was warmer and there were children screeching. Turns out the sounds of children screeching was actually the sounds of the seagulls.
We met Dr. E there and wandered down the town with our guide. He told us interesting things to do around town, however the only question I really wanted an answer to was the price of gas here. He told me it was about £6 a gallon. That amounts to $10 a gallon (roughly speaking).
......um what? Now I know why smart cars are such a hit over here.
We continued down the slope and soon beheld the English Channel. I could smell the salty air. After 2.5 weeks of no ocean, the smell was delicious. Shoes, backpacks, socks, went flying as we raced into the water. We were clearly Floridians....or tourists...take your pick. We took pictures of it, took pictures of us in it, did everything but submerge our cameras into the water. It was beautiful. After we became one with the water, we became disinterested because our stomaches became interested in food. We went to this little fish and chips place right by the ocean and had our lunch there. We talked to Dr. E and savored our food as well as his answers to our questions.
Concluding the lunch we walked back to the station with glances at an ocean we may never see again. I tried to take it in. It was an amazing view. It's an ocean flanked by cliffs, lands and islands, with red-nosed people ambling by a carnival and ice cream stands peppering the coastline.....I felt that if we all should don Victorian style bathing suits we should fit in perfectly. Hopefully, I shall never forget what it looks like.
We returned to the station and started to plan our trip to Bath. Once we settle what train to take and what direction we should go in, we set out on our journey. Once in the train though I suddenly didn't feel like seeing Bath, so I decided to join Dr. W back to Uxbridge. I felt like I made a good choice. I caught up on my paper a bit more and had lovely conversations with her. We arrived in Uxbridge 2 hours later and I decided to commit the rest of the night to writing some more of my paper. I got bored after awhile and went to the kitchen to eat. Then went back to write some more. Alas, this is where I'm at...still writing my paper...until of course I decided to take another break to blog this. So I suppose I should get back to my paper, eh?
Cheers.
Paper writing un-inspires me...
I feel uninspired to write.....but I'm going to do it anyway. Today was a hum-drum sort of day. I spent the morning stocking up on groceries, going to the Internet cafe to unload my camera of pictures, and doing some window shopping in the area. I've discovered that their candy selection stinks, they have a dollar store that they call Poundland here, their quality of shoes are way better than ours, and that I miss Wal-mart (never thought I would say that). I was heading back to Brunel when I ran into Dr. W. We talked for a bit before I headed off back to my room to devote myself to my paper some more (I've spent so much time on it I should build a shrine to it). I worked on it until a head peeked into my dorm asking me for salt. As I love the taste of salt (I know this sounds weird, try to withold judgement) I had a couple of packets in my room which I gave her (her being a girl who's also doing the study abroad with Dr. W). I then started to smell these delicious smells. So naturally I investigated the source. Turns out the girls in the program decided to cook a dinner. Sa-weet. I asked if they needed anything, they said more salt. I, being the purveyor of salts in the land of Uxbridge, knew exactly where to get some. I went out and got some and also brought back a bottle of wine. It was time to party. We set the table and we enjoyed. It was really nice.
We chatted about things we've seen, the political state of things, how we met each others spouse/fiancé and funny things that have happened. I had a really nice time. It kind of made me miss home.
We cleaned up and while some went to bed, some others (myself included) decided to stay up until we completed a puzzle (I'm such an overachiever, such high goals I set for myself). We successfully completed the puzzle before calling it a night. It was a rather blasé day, but it was nice because it reminded me that sometimes no matter what you're doing, how many people you meet, how much you accomplish, how much you travel or how much you know, all the people that really matter are the people youre meeting at the dinner table. And hopefully the people you meet at the dinner table are people you love, because that makes for a very enjoyable moment. So enjoyable that I forgot to take pictures of it and if you know me, I like to document everything, so not documenting something because I was enjoying myself says a lot.
Cheers.
We chatted about things we've seen, the political state of things, how we met each others spouse/fiancé and funny things that have happened. I had a really nice time. It kind of made me miss home.
We cleaned up and while some went to bed, some others (myself included) decided to stay up until we completed a puzzle (I'm such an overachiever, such high goals I set for myself). We successfully completed the puzzle before calling it a night. It was a rather blasé day, but it was nice because it reminded me that sometimes no matter what you're doing, how many people you meet, how much you accomplish, how much you travel or how much you know, all the people that really matter are the people youre meeting at the dinner table. And hopefully the people you meet at the dinner table are people you love, because that makes for a very enjoyable moment. So enjoyable that I forgot to take pictures of it and if you know me, I like to document everything, so not documenting something because I was enjoying myself says a lot.
Cheers.
Cambridge
So you know that whole writing the paper for the rest of the week?.....yeah. This morning I went to Cambridge (hey a girl can't work too hard). I had been hoping to see Cambridge before I left and when I heard members of the group were going I decided to hop on that bus. We started out pretty early in the morning (any trek anywhere seems to start off early in the morning) around 8ish. It was me, Carlos, Dan, Hannah, and Dana. We took the tube to Kings Cross which is in the heart of London and took the train straight to Cambridge. The train ride provided me some time to write my paper which I was happy to do (two birds, one stone).
We got off at our destination and started walking. We were sure we were walking in the right direction, but because we weren't positive I asked a construction worker. God bless those construction workers, they sent us in the right direction. We wandered into the city square and saw the pretty shops and stores, stopped in at a few cathedrals (they never cease to impress me, especially when they have gargoyles on them), and got a feel for the city. We then started walking into Cambridge University. Now I should clarify something here, Cambridge isn't like American state or private schools, same with Oxford for that matter. The school is in the entire city. Not even kidding. It's not like you arrive on the property and bam, you're on school property....not even close. It's spread out over the entire city. There is Cambridge itself with Kings college and Queens college but they're now dorms for the students. Their studies are generally elsewhere around the city.
So now that I've placed that in context I'll continue with my story...
We wandered down streets that were lined with collegiate shops selling Cambridge branded articles and I resisted the urge to buy something (was very hard). It was all very lovely until a little Asian guy came upon on us and persuaded us to go punting. He actually pounced on Dana first. Dana was very patient and listened to all he had to say, but when she made eye contact with me, I shook my head. £12 was far too much to pay for each person. My aim was £8. We told him we would think about it and made our way further into the heart of Cambridge. We ran into more punters; £10, nope. A little further and a man name Joe sealed the deal. £8 per person for 45 minutes. Wheeling and dealing paid off.
Wait....you say?.....you want me to go no further until you describe what exactly is punting? Done.
You know those long narrow boats in Venice that lovers sit in while a man pushes them down the river with a long narrow stick and a wide brimmed hat? Well that is punting.....minus it being in Venice.
And the lovers being in the boats? Replace that with tourists....like me.
Punting is a tradition that, supposedly, students at Cambridge, who were generally male, would do to make money on the side. The river they take you on is on the backside of the majority of the buildings. And while they push the boat along they tell you all the tales of each the scholastic buildings. It was a lot of fun. We had a cute cheery-eyed boy, who's name I don't recall, but who's twinkly eyes I shall never forget (I know that sounds dorky but this my story and I'll tell however corny I want to).
Of all the stories he told us, one story stands out in my mind in particular. Prince Charles went to school at Cambridge and as he was the crowned prince he had a body guard with him at all times even in his classes. Well when school was wrapping up for him and final examinations came, Prince Charles' body guard requested to also take the same final exams as the crowned prince. He'd attended all the classes and the directors thought "why not?"
Turns out the bodyguard got higher marks than Prince Charles; now that's a royal slap in the face.
He told us other stories but none of them humored me as much as the one I just told you. I asked our punter if any royalty had attended Cambridge. He hesitated and said that no royalty recently; none of them had high enough marks to get in. So much for noble blood.
The whole thing was great, really great, I could see my Uncle Chuck, a brainiac of sorts and a man who enjoys a good story, really enjoying himself on that. My mom too, for that matter. When we ended our tour, we shuffled off to wander the city some more.
We ended up at this little ice cream shop (never mind that it was a little under 60 degrees), got some ice cream and chatted with the clerk. She told us about Cambridge students and how rude they are. I was a little surprised. She corrected all notions I may have had about what I thought were intelligent, quiet, moderate kids. They were rug rats. She said the whole town cringes when a Cambridge student walks into their store, some refuse to even give them service. She said they are extremely snobby, look down on everyone and don't seem to care much about "commoners" (I thought that term only existed in 1800's London). How atrocious, I thought, good education wasted on souless beings. Such a waste.
We wandered around a bit more till we decided it was time to head home. Once on the train, we were lulled into sleep. I'm telling you those trains have a sleeping substance sprinkled in the air that makes you want to sleep. We got off at Kings Cross and split ways, the girls and Carlos going into London, and me and professor Dan going back to Uxbridge.
Once we got to Uxbridge, which took longer than normal due to signaling delays, we had a beer and swapped stories of our undergraduate years. Dan is a old soul, as I would like to describe him, he's ultra-conservative, has a love for travel (but not any kind of travel, the kind of travel where you fear for your life kind; think South Africa) and is a professor through and through. He could walk down a street and I could have never met him but I could tell you he's a professor; he's just got the look and attitude down. He's got the best stories for any kind of situation and has the best solutions for political problems (though I probably think that because I'm conservative too). One beer then developed into fish and chips until we then decided I should head back to finish my paper. Ever the professor, he gave me direction on my paper and condoned my good leader skills before we headed off to our flats. I would say it sounds like I made an A on today. Score for being teachers pet.
Cheers.
We got off at our destination and started walking. We were sure we were walking in the right direction, but because we weren't positive I asked a construction worker. God bless those construction workers, they sent us in the right direction. We wandered into the city square and saw the pretty shops and stores, stopped in at a few cathedrals (they never cease to impress me, especially when they have gargoyles on them), and got a feel for the city. We then started walking into Cambridge University. Now I should clarify something here, Cambridge isn't like American state or private schools, same with Oxford for that matter. The school is in the entire city. Not even kidding. It's not like you arrive on the property and bam, you're on school property....not even close. It's spread out over the entire city. There is Cambridge itself with Kings college and Queens college but they're now dorms for the students. Their studies are generally elsewhere around the city.
So now that I've placed that in context I'll continue with my story...
We wandered down streets that were lined with collegiate shops selling Cambridge branded articles and I resisted the urge to buy something (was very hard). It was all very lovely until a little Asian guy came upon on us and persuaded us to go punting. He actually pounced on Dana first. Dana was very patient and listened to all he had to say, but when she made eye contact with me, I shook my head. £12 was far too much to pay for each person. My aim was £8. We told him we would think about it and made our way further into the heart of Cambridge. We ran into more punters; £10, nope. A little further and a man name Joe sealed the deal. £8 per person for 45 minutes. Wheeling and dealing paid off.
Wait....you say?.....you want me to go no further until you describe what exactly is punting? Done.
You know those long narrow boats in Venice that lovers sit in while a man pushes them down the river with a long narrow stick and a wide brimmed hat? Well that is punting.....minus it being in Venice.
And the lovers being in the boats? Replace that with tourists....like me.
Punting is a tradition that, supposedly, students at Cambridge, who were generally male, would do to make money on the side. The river they take you on is on the backside of the majority of the buildings. And while they push the boat along they tell you all the tales of each the scholastic buildings. It was a lot of fun. We had a cute cheery-eyed boy, who's name I don't recall, but who's twinkly eyes I shall never forget (I know that sounds dorky but this my story and I'll tell however corny I want to).
Of all the stories he told us, one story stands out in my mind in particular. Prince Charles went to school at Cambridge and as he was the crowned prince he had a body guard with him at all times even in his classes. Well when school was wrapping up for him and final examinations came, Prince Charles' body guard requested to also take the same final exams as the crowned prince. He'd attended all the classes and the directors thought "why not?"
Turns out the bodyguard got higher marks than Prince Charles; now that's a royal slap in the face.
He told us other stories but none of them humored me as much as the one I just told you. I asked our punter if any royalty had attended Cambridge. He hesitated and said that no royalty recently; none of them had high enough marks to get in. So much for noble blood.
The whole thing was great, really great, I could see my Uncle Chuck, a brainiac of sorts and a man who enjoys a good story, really enjoying himself on that. My mom too, for that matter. When we ended our tour, we shuffled off to wander the city some more.
We ended up at this little ice cream shop (never mind that it was a little under 60 degrees), got some ice cream and chatted with the clerk. She told us about Cambridge students and how rude they are. I was a little surprised. She corrected all notions I may have had about what I thought were intelligent, quiet, moderate kids. They were rug rats. She said the whole town cringes when a Cambridge student walks into their store, some refuse to even give them service. She said they are extremely snobby, look down on everyone and don't seem to care much about "commoners" (I thought that term only existed in 1800's London). How atrocious, I thought, good education wasted on souless beings. Such a waste.
We wandered around a bit more till we decided it was time to head home. Once on the train, we were lulled into sleep. I'm telling you those trains have a sleeping substance sprinkled in the air that makes you want to sleep. We got off at Kings Cross and split ways, the girls and Carlos going into London, and me and professor Dan going back to Uxbridge.
Once we got to Uxbridge, which took longer than normal due to signaling delays, we had a beer and swapped stories of our undergraduate years. Dan is a old soul, as I would like to describe him, he's ultra-conservative, has a love for travel (but not any kind of travel, the kind of travel where you fear for your life kind; think South Africa) and is a professor through and through. He could walk down a street and I could have never met him but I could tell you he's a professor; he's just got the look and attitude down. He's got the best stories for any kind of situation and has the best solutions for political problems (though I probably think that because I'm conservative too). One beer then developed into fish and chips until we then decided I should head back to finish my paper. Ever the professor, he gave me direction on my paper and condoned my good leader skills before we headed off to our flats. I would say it sounds like I made an A on today. Score for being teachers pet.
Cheers.
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