After returning home from our vacation, going to a Blitzen Trapper concert, a Rocket Summer concert, and taking two finals, my family arrived. Travel was not kind to them and they had an endeavor getting across the ocean. But that seems to be the true Krob style. Nothing is ever just easy and simple. There has to be a monkey wrench. And that was true for this trip. Eagerly awaiting their arrival, Steph and I packed up our things and got ready to leave. As we sat in our bare rooms, we heard the doorbell ring.
Standing at the door was my sister, my dad, my mom, and a crutch. I must say, it was a truly odd feeling seeing such familiar faces in such a different setting. For we had gone months without seeing them and now they were in our study abroad home? We weren't in Iowa City, we were in Hull. OUR Hull. Needless to say it was pretty cool as we invited them in to show our humble abode.
After the quick tour of the house and a long series of catching up, we began the night’s activities. We took them around our Hull campus and showed them everything we knew so dearly; from the Union Pub where all our soccer was watched to the buildings where we mindlessly listened to lectures. We even stopped by the store to pick up some fresh apparel. Our energy was soon to fade, however, as jet lag and time differences quickly set in on the 3. Psh. Rookies. Regardless, we took them to our first ever pub: the Old Grey Mare. The food is mediocre and the prices are great and it was close enough for them to eat and go back and sleep. Nevermind the fact that it was about 7 p.m. England time.
The next day we ate breakfast with them before leaving for our final final. Ironic, I know. Once completed, we met up with our family to head to the city center. For the first time in England, we rode there in a car! As Joe drove on the opposite side of the road, we sat quietly trying to pretend it didn't feel completely foreign. We made it there in one piece, however, after stopping at the guitar shop and a post office. Once there, we shopped around a little and showed them the downtown to Hull. Tonight's dinner was at Barracudas; a favorite of Steph and I's. We had already stopped at Copland’s to get some English pastries but we still had enough room in our stomachs for dessert. After dinner was when the true fun began.
Not knowing how English parking garages worked, we were in for a surprise. As we walked towards the entrance to the ramp, we realized it was closed and the sign read that it was only until 6 p.m. Assuming that this was only for entering cars, we walked around to the exit. Low and behold, it was gated as well. Sitting in the office though was a worker. As we approached him, he asked, "Is it your car?" to which Steph asked him to repeat himself. He then said, "The silver car?" Not just if it was one of the cars. He was asking if our car was THE car. In a full-size parking ramp. We walked in and there was one car. Our silver car. And no others. I guess now we know if a parking ramp closes at 6:00, you better not show up at 8:30 or risk looking pretty daft. Once we made it home, Emmanuel had invited over our friends to meet the family. For the rest of the night we all hung out with ROARy, Emmanuel, Mathias, and Sam and discussed everything from WW2 to soccer.
The next day was to be spent outside of Hull. Heading to London, we expected a long day of travel but were unfortunately presented with a longer journey than originally thought. Crazy English roads provided us with countless roundabouts and carsickness for me. Eventually we made it though and were pleased to be staying at an amazing accommodation. The place was a two-story apartment fully furnished and completely awesome. It even had a spiral staircase! The location was a bit strange, but it was right next to a tube stop. The tube would not suffice the first night, however, seeing as how we needed to get to a show and were already running late.
Needing quick transportation, we decided to take a taxi. This was a good choice and it got us to Les Miserables in the knick of time. This was unfortunate though, as missing the show probably would have been a better experience for me. Of the 5 of us, however, I was the only one that felt this way. My feelings were no surprise though considering I don’t like musicals. It was still neat to see that side of England.
Waking up, we left the theater and walked through the gay district in search of Nando’s for some food. It was about 10:30 though and they thus only allowed take out orders. Hungry and desperate, we ordered food and ate it on the street. A car of drunken kids drove by and yelled, “Are you having fun?!” Yes. We were.
The next day was when our true London journey began. We hopped up at the crack of dawn to catch the first double decker tour bus through the city. It was a lot of fun, but the bitter English weather made our decision to sit in the open-topped upper compartment a mistake. The bus didn’t provide unique moments, but rather a nice overview of a massive city. A way to see all the sights in an hour. At the end of the tour, we went to the changing of the guards…which amounted to be nothing more than a mass of tourists as you strained to see some furry hats. We left 10 minutes later.
It was now time to split up, as Joe wanted different things than the family. He hopped back on a bus and we headed towards speakers corner. After listening to morons preach the second coming of Christ and the problems of America, we went to a pub for a true English experience: watching soccer. Today was an international game having England playing Japan and the pub we found was not a hotspot for watching the game. There were few fans but great food. We got a Sunday roast and watched England limp to a 2-1 victory.
After the game, we headed across town to meet up with Joe who had gone to the Imperial War Museum. And no, he did not walk there despite what he thought. Becky and Stephanie sat outside as Joe, Steph, and I went in and explored the Holocaust exhibit. Great exhibit. Then it was off for burgers and then Buckingham Palace before returning to our luxurious apartment.
Last on our itinerary was Brighton: the gay-friendly coastal beach town centered around its tacky pier. Once there we simply enjoyed the youthful energy of such a cheesy place and played arcade games and ate waffles on a stick. Becky, Steph, and Stephanie even put their feet in the channel! Ask Becky what the highlight was? Dinner at the great Italian restaurant. Overall though, Brighton was a relaxing day spent enjoying English life and recuperating before the 6-hour drive back to Hull the following day.
It’s funny how fast 6 hours go when you’re asleep. Waking up at our Hull home, we loaded up our luggage and took care of last minute things. It was difficult to say goodbye to all our friends. We gave them our emails and hoped to hear from them, but saying goodbye to people you’d grown so close to for 4 months is difficult. But we needed to head home. So, potato masher in hand, we hopped in the car that was a tight fit for 5, let alone with 8 pieces of luggage. You should’ve seen Becky, Steph, and I crammed in the backseat. Thankfully Manchester was only 2 hours away.
On the way to our hotel, we stopped at a rest stop. Leaving the rest stop, Steph and I discovered something completely strange. The Krob family trip’s last stop was at the exact same place Steph and I had first stopped. When we got to Manchester the bus stopped at this random stop as well, providing us our first glimpse into English culture. It couldn’t have been more fitting stopping at this exact place before saying goodbye.
Our flight left at 6:00 a.m., which meant no sleep for me. Steph slept an hour; I preferred to save it for the flight home. And much like the 6-hour car ride, the flight went by faster than I could’ve imagined lost in my dreams. Landing in Cedar Rapids was the strangest feeling. Stepping off the plane, we were amazed. Even the vending machines with our American snacks amazed us. We bought Sun Chips. Not because either of us love them, but because they didn’t have them in England. They signaled our return to our home country. And despite our best efforts to disappear into eternity in Cinque Terre and Keswick, we knew this land, a land of corn and bad weather, was our home. Walking through the terminal, we were home. Truly home.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Our Final Sans-Family Adventure
With a fresh bank account, it was time for the last true exploration prior to my parents joining us in England. We had a free week between the end of classes and our first final and we weren't about to let it go to waste.
The morning of the trip, we hopped up and headed to Oxford. No real interesting stories to tell other than we made it safely and on time...which is a feat in and of itself. Oxford was great. We started off buying postcards for 50p and paying with a 20 pound note (all we had). Somehow, we got 25.50 back in change. We noticed as we had left the store and debated returning. Condemn us if you wish, but we carried on, profit in hand. Oxford was a great town. It was beautiful and peaceful with a youthful college vibe. After exploring numerous stores, we stopped in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen...because I couldn't resist. It was well worth it.
No time to rest, though, as we hopped the next train to Windsor. After checking into our gorgeous hotel, we set off to explore the town before the sun set. Surprisingly substantial, the town expanded beyond its central castle. While the castle remained the focal point, the town was easily a favorite of ours. The streets were dead and the shops closed, but the town had that feeling. You know, the feeling that just speaks to you and says, "I'm a cool city." That feeling. And anyways, it had Nando's; what we initially thought was a delicious and unique restaurant and turned out to be a common and delicious restaurant found throughout South England.
The next day was full speed ahead as we took the early train to the edge of the country. 7 hours of train travel from central England to southwestern England, Cornwall, was draining. It probably did not help that I was sick as a dog at this point. My sore throat and fever meant the last thing I wanted to do was travel. But we had to carry on. Arriving in Penzance, we were met with miserably cold weather but beautiful scenery. The town was perched atop a hill overlooking the waterfront below. It lacked the beach-side allure of Blackpool and had a heavy nautical sea-port feel to it. It was definitely a side of England we had never seen. Unfortunately, this day was spent moping around half-heartedly looking at the views as I flew through tissues.
The following day, however, was much better. Rather than staying in the industrial town of Penzance, we took a quick train North to St. Ives. St. Ives was a beautiful place that brought back memories of Cinque Terre. While nowhere near as impressive, the town retained a nice charm as it sat idly along gorgeous blue water. Sea-side England was not lost, however, as arcades and junky tourist shops were abound. The view and scenery were undeniable as we bought some Cornish Ice Cream and watched the pelicans circle the docked boats. We relaxed and did nothing as we took in the sights and reminisced on our time so far in England. After the relaxation, though, we took to the 2-cent arcade game we love so much. We were so good, we had a crowd watching us. Pretty embarrassing. And if you're ever in Southern England, don't eat at a chain called Wimpy's.
The next day, we had a joyous 8-hour train ride to Moreton-in-Marsh in the Cotswolds region. Since computers don't pick up sarcasm, the last sentence was sarcastic. It was terrible. But the ultimate reward justified the means; the Cotswolds were gorgeous. We took a bus to our homebase of Chipping Campden and fell in love. Our late arrival meant there was nothing for us to do other than wander the city and enjoy our nice comfortable room. The city was dead and peaceful at this time of night
which provided a nice refuge from our long trip. Dinner choices were slim, however, in this tiny countryside village and our picky palettes demanded a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and Milky Bars.
The following day started off with Steph's favorite activity: dogs! The owners of our Bed and Breakfast had 3 dogs that lazily roamed their stunning backyard: 1 small pug, 1 big black lab, and 1 skinny greyhound. The pug, Connie, loved Steph. She petted him/her (not sure) as his/her leg thumped emphatically in praise of Steph finding his/her 'spot.' I practically had to tear Steph away from the adorable pooches seeing as how we needed to start our bike ride.
We walked down Main Street to a local pub that rented bicycles. Paying 10 pounds each, we were taken out back and supplied with our gear, helmets and all. After deciding not to wear the bright orange safety vests, we hopped on the bikes and wobbled out of the alley. Having not riden a bike in years, it was rough. We had to stop every 3 minutes from exhaustion as we worked up the countless hills. On a positive, however, there were no crashes.
Our goal was to make it to the Snowshill Lavender Fields in Snowshill, a town about 8 miles away. Going to the town was unfortunately all uphill and we felt the burn. The closer and closer we got, the more we wondered when the lavender fields would jump out of of the yellow and green countryside. We wondered this as we kept getting closer. As we saw the sign for the fields, our confusion grew. As we turned into the lot for the fields, we understood. We were a few months early. Our 2 hours of uphill battles and soar butts rewarded us with 200 acres of unbloomed lavender plants...I sight much like that in Iowa. Turning to Steph, what reaction was it going to be? Anger? Desperate sadness? Crushed hopes? None of the above. We turned to each other and laughed. Only us we figured. Just our luck.
Not being ones to get down, we went into the nice little store and shopped around. Delicious minestrone soup and ice cream lifted our spirits as we rejuvenated for the imprending ride home. Yet what felt like a task coming out was a joy on the way home; for it was all downhill. This allowed us to appreciate the beauty more. For the scenery was stunning. The weather was perfect and for once, you could hear actual silence. Laying in a grassy field surrounded by yellow flowers and chirping birds, we took in the forzen moment of pure serenity. Between Steph's blowing noses, I took in the silence and debated whether you can hear silence or if silence is a lack of hearing altogether. By far one of the highlights of the trip. Riding the bikes through the countryside provided us imagery and an experience we would have otherwise never had. Who cares that there were no purple fields. We had the most fun we've had in a long time. And trust us, we have lots of fun.
Returning to the pub, we dropped off our bikes and enjoyed our favorite English past-time. Grabbing some drinks and watching the soccer game. The match had 2 teams we didn't like, but we enjoyed it nevertheless.
The next day was more of an endeavor than we planned. The plan? Catch the early bus to the train station. The problem? The schedule I had looked at ran from Mon-Sat and there were no buses on Sunday. Walking to the TI, we asked for tips. They said there was no way to get to the train station on Sundays other than taxis. This was a problem considering we had budgeted 20 pounds a day for food and such and the taxi would cost a flat 20 pounds. The old man gave us a list of numbers to try and we set off to the nearest cliche red telephone booth. Calling every number, only one could pick us up and take us. Thank God. The trip was a lot of fun as he filled us in on English history and showed us the beautiful countryside. We made it to the station on time and made it Canterbury.
Canterbury was beautiful. Our Bed and Breakfast was a treat at a steal of a price. The town was very college-friendly mixed with classical history. It had an undeniable charm that is difficult to describe...you know the kind of place that you enjoy not because of 4 star attractions and photo-op scenes, but rather from the little stores you love and snacks that couldn't be beat? This was one of those places. Every store was unique and the town had a great feel to it. While there was very little for us to do there, we didn't want to leave. But after one night, we had to. Riding back to Hull, we knew there was no more true travel until my family came; signlaling the beginning of the end of our semester abroad.
The morning of the trip, we hopped up and headed to Oxford. No real interesting stories to tell other than we made it safely and on time...which is a feat in and of itself. Oxford was great. We started off buying postcards for 50p and paying with a 20 pound note (all we had). Somehow, we got 25.50 back in change. We noticed as we had left the store and debated returning. Condemn us if you wish, but we carried on, profit in hand. Oxford was a great town. It was beautiful and peaceful with a youthful college vibe. After exploring numerous stores, we stopped in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen...because I couldn't resist. It was well worth it.
No time to rest, though, as we hopped the next train to Windsor. After checking into our gorgeous hotel, we set off to explore the town before the sun set. Surprisingly substantial, the town expanded beyond its central castle. While the castle remained the focal point, the town was easily a favorite of ours. The streets were dead and the shops closed, but the town had that feeling. You know, the feeling that just speaks to you and says, "I'm a cool city." That feeling. And anyways, it had Nando's; what we initially thought was a delicious and unique restaurant and turned out to be a common and delicious restaurant found throughout South England.
The next day was full speed ahead as we took the early train to the edge of the country. 7 hours of train travel from central England to southwestern England, Cornwall, was draining. It probably did not help that I was sick as a dog at this point. My sore throat and fever meant the last thing I wanted to do was travel. But we had to carry on. Arriving in Penzance, we were met with miserably cold weather but beautiful scenery. The town was perched atop a hill overlooking the waterfront below. It lacked the beach-side allure of Blackpool and had a heavy nautical sea-port feel to it. It was definitely a side of England we had never seen. Unfortunately, this day was spent moping around half-heartedly looking at the views as I flew through tissues.
The following day, however, was much better. Rather than staying in the industrial town of Penzance, we took a quick train North to St. Ives. St. Ives was a beautiful place that brought back memories of Cinque Terre. While nowhere near as impressive, the town retained a nice charm as it sat idly along gorgeous blue water. Sea-side England was not lost, however, as arcades and junky tourist shops were abound. The view and scenery were undeniable as we bought some Cornish Ice Cream and watched the pelicans circle the docked boats. We relaxed and did nothing as we took in the sights and reminisced on our time so far in England. After the relaxation, though, we took to the 2-cent arcade game we love so much. We were so good, we had a crowd watching us. Pretty embarrassing. And if you're ever in Southern England, don't eat at a chain called Wimpy's.
The next day, we had a joyous 8-hour train ride to Moreton-in-Marsh in the Cotswolds region. Since computers don't pick up sarcasm, the last sentence was sarcastic. It was terrible. But the ultimate reward justified the means; the Cotswolds were gorgeous. We took a bus to our homebase of Chipping Campden and fell in love. Our late arrival meant there was nothing for us to do other than wander the city and enjoy our nice comfortable room. The city was dead and peaceful at this time of night
which provided a nice refuge from our long trip. Dinner choices were slim, however, in this tiny countryside village and our picky palettes demanded a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and Milky Bars.
The following day started off with Steph's favorite activity: dogs! The owners of our Bed and Breakfast had 3 dogs that lazily roamed their stunning backyard: 1 small pug, 1 big black lab, and 1 skinny greyhound. The pug, Connie, loved Steph. She petted him/her (not sure) as his/her leg thumped emphatically in praise of Steph finding his/her 'spot.' I practically had to tear Steph away from the adorable pooches seeing as how we needed to start our bike ride.
We walked down Main Street to a local pub that rented bicycles. Paying 10 pounds each, we were taken out back and supplied with our gear, helmets and all. After deciding not to wear the bright orange safety vests, we hopped on the bikes and wobbled out of the alley. Having not riden a bike in years, it was rough. We had to stop every 3 minutes from exhaustion as we worked up the countless hills. On a positive, however, there were no crashes.
Our goal was to make it to the Snowshill Lavender Fields in Snowshill, a town about 8 miles away. Going to the town was unfortunately all uphill and we felt the burn. The closer and closer we got, the more we wondered when the lavender fields would jump out of of the yellow and green countryside. We wondered this as we kept getting closer. As we saw the sign for the fields, our confusion grew. As we turned into the lot for the fields, we understood. We were a few months early. Our 2 hours of uphill battles and soar butts rewarded us with 200 acres of unbloomed lavender plants...I sight much like that in Iowa. Turning to Steph, what reaction was it going to be? Anger? Desperate sadness? Crushed hopes? None of the above. We turned to each other and laughed. Only us we figured. Just our luck.
Not being ones to get down, we went into the nice little store and shopped around. Delicious minestrone soup and ice cream lifted our spirits as we rejuvenated for the imprending ride home. Yet what felt like a task coming out was a joy on the way home; for it was all downhill. This allowed us to appreciate the beauty more. For the scenery was stunning. The weather was perfect and for once, you could hear actual silence. Laying in a grassy field surrounded by yellow flowers and chirping birds, we took in the forzen moment of pure serenity. Between Steph's blowing noses, I took in the silence and debated whether you can hear silence or if silence is a lack of hearing altogether. By far one of the highlights of the trip. Riding the bikes through the countryside provided us imagery and an experience we would have otherwise never had. Who cares that there were no purple fields. We had the most fun we've had in a long time. And trust us, we have lots of fun.
Returning to the pub, we dropped off our bikes and enjoyed our favorite English past-time. Grabbing some drinks and watching the soccer game. The match had 2 teams we didn't like, but we enjoyed it nevertheless.
The next day was more of an endeavor than we planned. The plan? Catch the early bus to the train station. The problem? The schedule I had looked at ran from Mon-Sat and there were no buses on Sunday. Walking to the TI, we asked for tips. They said there was no way to get to the train station on Sundays other than taxis. This was a problem considering we had budgeted 20 pounds a day for food and such and the taxi would cost a flat 20 pounds. The old man gave us a list of numbers to try and we set off to the nearest cliche red telephone booth. Calling every number, only one could pick us up and take us. Thank God. The trip was a lot of fun as he filled us in on English history and showed us the beautiful countryside. We made it to the station on time and made it Canterbury.
Canterbury was beautiful. Our Bed and Breakfast was a treat at a steal of a price. The town was very college-friendly mixed with classical history. It had an undeniable charm that is difficult to describe...you know the kind of place that you enjoy not because of 4 star attractions and photo-op scenes, but rather from the little stores you love and snacks that couldn't be beat? This was one of those places. Every store was unique and the town had a great feel to it. While there was very little for us to do there, we didn't want to leave. But after one night, we had to. Riding back to Hull, we knew there was no more true travel until my family came; signlaling the beginning of the end of our semester abroad.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
that stupid panic-when-uncomfortable gene
It's been a while since the last update! This is due to our mini-vacation part 2...but we will talk about that in a later post. First we need to fill you in on the week and a half after Blackpool/Liverpool leading up to our trip. And when we say a week and a half, we mean the one day that we actually did something other than lounge around Hull searching for edible food.
The Sunday before last, May 9th, was the last game of the FA Premier League. Considering our local bottom-of-the-league Hull City Tigers had already officially secured their fate of relegation, our eyes were solely on our true favorite team: Manchester United. Despite the efforts of my mother, my girlfriend, and myself, we were unable to purchase tickets to the final game. This was a major disappointment, but we realized how lucky we were to have seen 3 matches already (thank you Immanuel, Stephanie the sister, and Becky). To soften the blow, however, we decided to catch a train down to Manchester anyways to watch the game at a local pub. We figured if we couldn't get in the stadium, we might as well get close.
After arriving early and shopping around, we headed to legendary Old Trafford to soak in the atmosphere. Having drained ourselves of money, we had a strict budget of 20 pounds that could be spent in Manchester if we wanted to survive until we finished the semester. Needless to say, scalping tickets was financially out of the picture.
We walked around and around wishing we could go into the stadium. Minute after minute passed and the mass of fans slowly began shifting inside the walls of the stadium. We simply aimed to find where the players exited the stadium (to get pictures/autographs after the game) and see if anyone had 2 tickets for 10 pounds each. We could dream right?
Being the last game of the season with a potential for league victory (pending a Chelsea loss), there were few people looking to give up their tickets. Adding to the difficulty of finding unwanted tickets, reselling tickets appeared to be illegal due to the reserved nature of scalpers. After many efforts to find tickets, we located a true, greedy, sketchy group of scalpers. Normally, we wouldn't have bothered, but it was our only shot. We approached one guy simply to get a price range (hoping for under 10 pounds) and were short 105 pounds 2 minutes later.
After asking how much, the man told me 90 pounds each. I quickly asked if he had cheaper as he proceeded to show me two more tickets for 80 each. At this point, I said I couldn't pay that much and began to walk away as Steph joined me. He then followed us asking if we were interested. We both said no and said we would need cheaper prices. He caved and said he could give them to us for 70 each.
Now as many of you know, I don't like being in high pressure situations when I want to make a decision; I like to walk away, talk about it in private, then make a decision. With this scalper, however, that wasn't going to cut it. In a bid to politely say no and walk away from the situation, I said I didn't have any cash on me. He proceeded to ask if it was a deal or not until I showed him my empty pockets (aside from a 5 pound note). I originally thought that this would allow Steph and I to go "get money" and avoid a situation where we shouldn't be spending money. Catching me off guard, however, he said he would walk us to the nearest ATM. Before doing so, he said, "You guys going to do it or not? 70's the best I got." Remember...we had a 20 pound limit. Not 140. 140 would mean our entire food budget for the next month. Maybe it was the irrational, panic-when-confused, rash-decisions-in-uncomfortable-situations gene I inherited from my father, maybe it was the roar of the crowd as the game neared kick-off, or maybe it was the realization that we would never be this close for a long time, but we said yes.
Having secured the deal, we set off on a 6 minute walk to the other side of the stadium for an ATM. Fresh off the heals of a rash decision, we walked behind the man deciding if we should've agreed or not. The longer we walked, the more we regretted the idea of spending so much money that we didn't have. Imagine spending 10 times more money than you had for something and then being given 5 minutes to stew over your decision before having to contractually finalize it. While we were not contractually obligated, the longer we walked with this man, the worse I felt backing out. Steph and I continued to bicker back and forth, weighing out the options. Was it worth starving for a month? How badly did we want to see the game? Was this guy even legitimate?
As we waited in line for the ATM 20 yards from a hovering scalper, we decided we needed to buy tickets. As Steph put it, "When is the next time we will be this close? We won't have an opportunity like this for 10 years at least." That sold it for me. But I also decided we couldn't pay 140 pounds. Call it stingy, call it cheap, but I devised a plan. As the scalper hovered from a distance, I pretended to be aghast at the ATM. I looked at Steph in anger over the confusion displayed on the screen. Approaching the scalper, I told him that the machine only let me take out 100 pounds and that it must have been a miscalculation on my finances. Maybe he was desperate or maybe he was generous, but he took the deal under the condition I throw in the 5 pounds he had seen earlier. I quickly agreed and we exchanged.
I was still anxious until we got into the stadium and discovered the tickets were indeed real. Walking to our seats, we were amazed at the quality. 5th row. Literally, 5th row. Close enough to see the players' sweat. Much like the previous 3 soccer games we went to, we wouldn't stop yapping about how excited we were. I felt like a pathetic teenage groupie as I about went crazy when Ryan Giggs, one of my all time favorites, stood in front of us for a corner kick. Being so close obviously had its disadvantages, and we struggled to see the second half of the game (with all the action on the other half), but the seats were perfect in our eyes. For 52.50 pounds each, we were in heaven. We won 4-0. Unfortunately, however, Chelsea won their game 8-0 and we didn't win the league. Not like we would've seen the celebration anyways, considering we took an uncharacteristic option to leave 2 minutes early to line up for autographs.
No point belaboring this story much more than it needs to be. Probably about 200 fans joined us as we screamed at players, held back by barricades, hoping for them to come sign an autograph. Player after player snubbed fans with a half-hearted wave as they carried their newborn babies to their luxurious cars. A few, however, were true to their fans, with 4 gaining respect in our books.
Wayne Rooney and Micheal Carrick signed autographs but unfortunately got nowhere near us. 4 players did though, including 2 of our all-time favorite players. First, Steph squeezed her hand in to have Ryan Giggs, my soccer hero, sign my tickets. While I was on cloud 9 and ready to leave, Steph pressed on, pushing through fans to get more. Next up? John O'Shea. After that? Superstar Rio Ferdinand. And then we were faced with a dilemma. The last train across town left in 10 minutes and one of our combined favorite players stood about 15 minutes of autographs away. Was it worth the risk? Definitely. And we got it. Patrice Evra.
Unfortunately, however, we missed the train. Not wanting to walk an hour back to the train station, we had to use a cab for the first time in Europe. He obviously knew we had no clue what we were doing and we both agree we got ripped off because of it. We asked how much it would be to the train station and he said about 10 pounds. We hopped in, deciding we had already blown through so much money, 10 was not going to be noticed. We watched the meter as we approached the station, about 5-10 minutes away. When we were about 3/4 of the way there, the meter said 5.60. Doing the math, we would have about a 7.50 ride with a 2.50 tip...10 pounds exactly.
The man spoke with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent that I could not understand. Because of that, I anti-socially avoided any talking, leaving the burden on wonderful Steph. He told her something that neither of us understood very well, but Steph followed enough to know what was going on. He said that in order to save us money, he would shut off the meter and just charge us 12 pounds. Justifiably confused, Steph said ok and he proceeded to suggest a hefty tip for such a kind gesture. Mind you, I did not know what he had just done (essentially double the price of our trip and label it as "a kind gesture").
It just so happened that when the meter was shut off, it displayed the time. As we pulled up to the station, the time read 7 15. Not knowing the meter had been shut off, I gave him a 10 with a look of confidence as I began to exit the cab, thinking I was giving a 2 85 tip on top of a 7 15 tab. He was confused and said I did not give him enough, which quickly confused me. He said, "You gave me a 10," and I said "Keep the change." Steph must have thought I was pretty ballsy as she butted in and told me the bill was 12 pounds. Confused and overwhelmed, my rash-decision gene kicked in and I gave him 12 pounds. I was confused enough to not give him any tip at all. After Steph explained to me what was going on, I was happy to have not tipped him. Steph and I follow in the footsteps of Grandma Donna when it comes to generous tipping, but I don't like getting taking advantage of.
Finally, we were at the station ready to go home when the depression of drained finances overcame the joy of Manchester victory. On the ride home, calculating finances showed us that we would need to cut our forthcoming trip short. The next few days were obviously very sad as we tried contacting hotels to cancel reservations before Randy and Jean Erb saved the day. Unbeknownst to both Steph and myself, her parents injected her account with a very large sum of money after hearing Stephs' sad state. I must say, we were both very grateful. Staying true to character, they saved our trip without us even asking for help. Without them, our week long trip (covered in the next blog) would not have been possible. More importantly, however, is that without them, the Manchester adventure would have been viewed as a mistake. Now, though, it is one of our best memories yet.
The Sunday before last, May 9th, was the last game of the FA Premier League. Considering our local bottom-of-the-league Hull City Tigers had already officially secured their fate of relegation, our eyes were solely on our true favorite team: Manchester United. Despite the efforts of my mother, my girlfriend, and myself, we were unable to purchase tickets to the final game. This was a major disappointment, but we realized how lucky we were to have seen 3 matches already (thank you Immanuel, Stephanie the sister, and Becky). To soften the blow, however, we decided to catch a train down to Manchester anyways to watch the game at a local pub. We figured if we couldn't get in the stadium, we might as well get close.
After arriving early and shopping around, we headed to legendary Old Trafford to soak in the atmosphere. Having drained ourselves of money, we had a strict budget of 20 pounds that could be spent in Manchester if we wanted to survive until we finished the semester. Needless to say, scalping tickets was financially out of the picture.
We walked around and around wishing we could go into the stadium. Minute after minute passed and the mass of fans slowly began shifting inside the walls of the stadium. We simply aimed to find where the players exited the stadium (to get pictures/autographs after the game) and see if anyone had 2 tickets for 10 pounds each. We could dream right?
Being the last game of the season with a potential for league victory (pending a Chelsea loss), there were few people looking to give up their tickets. Adding to the difficulty of finding unwanted tickets, reselling tickets appeared to be illegal due to the reserved nature of scalpers. After many efforts to find tickets, we located a true, greedy, sketchy group of scalpers. Normally, we wouldn't have bothered, but it was our only shot. We approached one guy simply to get a price range (hoping for under 10 pounds) and were short 105 pounds 2 minutes later.
After asking how much, the man told me 90 pounds each. I quickly asked if he had cheaper as he proceeded to show me two more tickets for 80 each. At this point, I said I couldn't pay that much and began to walk away as Steph joined me. He then followed us asking if we were interested. We both said no and said we would need cheaper prices. He caved and said he could give them to us for 70 each.
Now as many of you know, I don't like being in high pressure situations when I want to make a decision; I like to walk away, talk about it in private, then make a decision. With this scalper, however, that wasn't going to cut it. In a bid to politely say no and walk away from the situation, I said I didn't have any cash on me. He proceeded to ask if it was a deal or not until I showed him my empty pockets (aside from a 5 pound note). I originally thought that this would allow Steph and I to go "get money" and avoid a situation where we shouldn't be spending money. Catching me off guard, however, he said he would walk us to the nearest ATM. Before doing so, he said, "You guys going to do it or not? 70's the best I got." Remember...we had a 20 pound limit. Not 140. 140 would mean our entire food budget for the next month. Maybe it was the irrational, panic-when-confused, rash-decisions-in-uncomfortable-situations gene I inherited from my father, maybe it was the roar of the crowd as the game neared kick-off, or maybe it was the realization that we would never be this close for a long time, but we said yes.
Having secured the deal, we set off on a 6 minute walk to the other side of the stadium for an ATM. Fresh off the heals of a rash decision, we walked behind the man deciding if we should've agreed or not. The longer we walked, the more we regretted the idea of spending so much money that we didn't have. Imagine spending 10 times more money than you had for something and then being given 5 minutes to stew over your decision before having to contractually finalize it. While we were not contractually obligated, the longer we walked with this man, the worse I felt backing out. Steph and I continued to bicker back and forth, weighing out the options. Was it worth starving for a month? How badly did we want to see the game? Was this guy even legitimate?
As we waited in line for the ATM 20 yards from a hovering scalper, we decided we needed to buy tickets. As Steph put it, "When is the next time we will be this close? We won't have an opportunity like this for 10 years at least." That sold it for me. But I also decided we couldn't pay 140 pounds. Call it stingy, call it cheap, but I devised a plan. As the scalper hovered from a distance, I pretended to be aghast at the ATM. I looked at Steph in anger over the confusion displayed on the screen. Approaching the scalper, I told him that the machine only let me take out 100 pounds and that it must have been a miscalculation on my finances. Maybe he was desperate or maybe he was generous, but he took the deal under the condition I throw in the 5 pounds he had seen earlier. I quickly agreed and we exchanged.
I was still anxious until we got into the stadium and discovered the tickets were indeed real. Walking to our seats, we were amazed at the quality. 5th row. Literally, 5th row. Close enough to see the players' sweat. Much like the previous 3 soccer games we went to, we wouldn't stop yapping about how excited we were. I felt like a pathetic teenage groupie as I about went crazy when Ryan Giggs, one of my all time favorites, stood in front of us for a corner kick. Being so close obviously had its disadvantages, and we struggled to see the second half of the game (with all the action on the other half), but the seats were perfect in our eyes. For 52.50 pounds each, we were in heaven. We won 4-0. Unfortunately, however, Chelsea won their game 8-0 and we didn't win the league. Not like we would've seen the celebration anyways, considering we took an uncharacteristic option to leave 2 minutes early to line up for autographs.
No point belaboring this story much more than it needs to be. Probably about 200 fans joined us as we screamed at players, held back by barricades, hoping for them to come sign an autograph. Player after player snubbed fans with a half-hearted wave as they carried their newborn babies to their luxurious cars. A few, however, were true to their fans, with 4 gaining respect in our books.
Wayne Rooney and Micheal Carrick signed autographs but unfortunately got nowhere near us. 4 players did though, including 2 of our all-time favorite players. First, Steph squeezed her hand in to have Ryan Giggs, my soccer hero, sign my tickets. While I was on cloud 9 and ready to leave, Steph pressed on, pushing through fans to get more. Next up? John O'Shea. After that? Superstar Rio Ferdinand. And then we were faced with a dilemma. The last train across town left in 10 minutes and one of our combined favorite players stood about 15 minutes of autographs away. Was it worth the risk? Definitely. And we got it. Patrice Evra.
Unfortunately, however, we missed the train. Not wanting to walk an hour back to the train station, we had to use a cab for the first time in Europe. He obviously knew we had no clue what we were doing and we both agree we got ripped off because of it. We asked how much it would be to the train station and he said about 10 pounds. We hopped in, deciding we had already blown through so much money, 10 was not going to be noticed. We watched the meter as we approached the station, about 5-10 minutes away. When we were about 3/4 of the way there, the meter said 5.60. Doing the math, we would have about a 7.50 ride with a 2.50 tip...10 pounds exactly.
The man spoke with a heavy Middle-Eastern accent that I could not understand. Because of that, I anti-socially avoided any talking, leaving the burden on wonderful Steph. He told her something that neither of us understood very well, but Steph followed enough to know what was going on. He said that in order to save us money, he would shut off the meter and just charge us 12 pounds. Justifiably confused, Steph said ok and he proceeded to suggest a hefty tip for such a kind gesture. Mind you, I did not know what he had just done (essentially double the price of our trip and label it as "a kind gesture").
It just so happened that when the meter was shut off, it displayed the time. As we pulled up to the station, the time read 7 15. Not knowing the meter had been shut off, I gave him a 10 with a look of confidence as I began to exit the cab, thinking I was giving a 2 85 tip on top of a 7 15 tab. He was confused and said I did not give him enough, which quickly confused me. He said, "You gave me a 10," and I said "Keep the change." Steph must have thought I was pretty ballsy as she butted in and told me the bill was 12 pounds. Confused and overwhelmed, my rash-decision gene kicked in and I gave him 12 pounds. I was confused enough to not give him any tip at all. After Steph explained to me what was going on, I was happy to have not tipped him. Steph and I follow in the footsteps of Grandma Donna when it comes to generous tipping, but I don't like getting taking advantage of.
Finally, we were at the station ready to go home when the depression of drained finances overcame the joy of Manchester victory. On the ride home, calculating finances showed us that we would need to cut our forthcoming trip short. The next few days were obviously very sad as we tried contacting hotels to cancel reservations before Randy and Jean Erb saved the day. Unbeknownst to both Steph and myself, her parents injected her account with a very large sum of money after hearing Stephs' sad state. I must say, we were both very grateful. Staying true to character, they saved our trip without us even asking for help. Without them, our week long trip (covered in the next blog) would not have been possible. More importantly, however, is that without them, the Manchester adventure would have been viewed as a mistake. Now, though, it is one of our best memories yet.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
youtube videos
Steph and I just wanted to point out to anybody who watches our youtube videos that we imported 2 at the same time. Both part 15 and 16 are new and were uploaded at the same time, so make sure to check them both out.
The Lovebirds
The Lovebirds
Sunday, May 9, 2010
music and arcades
Congratulations! If you guys have read all the blogs thus far, you are up to date on our travels. But returning from Italy, we haven't slowed down. We did need a break though. So for the first week or two back, we did a whole lot of nothing. Watching soccer and going to pubs. But then we were kicked back into gear by a Hull City soccer game. Courtesy of a generous birthday gift from Stephanie (the sister), we enjoyed Hull City play as terrible as they're known for. But Premier League is Premier League and it was a joy to be in the rowdy stadium as drunken men cheered for the incompetent Tigers.
Last weekend was spent in Liverpool and Blackpool. Getting into Liverpool in the late afternoon, we quickly checked into our hostel and set off to tour the town. Shopping at the same-old redundant English department stores, it was all just putting off the true plans. A concert. An incredible concert.
Liverpool must have missed the memo and decided not to show up, because the venue was scarce. 5 bands for only 6 pounds, this show was worth its weight in gold. First stop? Concert tees! Second stop? Front row. First band? The Wild. The only band of the 5 we didn't know, the band was a surprise. With only about 15 people in the crowd, they struggled to get the crowd involved and ruined their set because of it. Steph and I agree that when we go to a concert, we like to simply enjoy the music and maybe sing along. When we have a singer, therefore, that demands you jump and move and dance every 5 seconds, we quickly get annoyed. Too bad too, because they had some good music.
The second band was Rio, a local English band. They were absolutely incredible. They played a short, high-energy set that was a lot of fun. The third band was the Dangerous Summer. Considering their show in Iowa got cancelled a year ago because of a blizzard, I was very excited to see them. They played a great set including all of our favorites (even the single famously used in the Hull, England Keswick episode!). I loved them, Steph liked them. After meeting them after the show, Steph loved them (THEY WERE SOOOO NICE!!).
Band 4 was a shared interest and Steph's highlight. As long as we've listened to Anarbor, we have still never gotten a chance to see them. Their music was great, and their show was awesome. Steph would probably consider it the best of the 5, but I would argue the Swellers were. Band number 5. I had no clue who the Swellers were when we bought the tickets, but I quickly bought the CD and was blown away. Their music is fast, loud, and often pretty rough. I think they realized that I was the only kid in the crowd belting out the lyrics to every song, and they acknowledged us a few times. Steph got some credit too for sporting a pretty sharp Swellers T-shirt.
The highlight of the night? Before the final song (one of my favorites played due to my request), the bass player pointed at Steph and I and said, and I quote, "This one goes out to you two; the lovebirds." Can you imagine that? He must watch our videos and read our blog.
The next morning, we went to Blackpool. Steph compared it to the Jersey Shore. I compared it to a city made from a mix of Adventureland and Treasure City. We went back and forth from loving it to hating it. In hindsight, however, we loved it but would hesitate to go back. Needing to save some money, we opted out of going to the amusement park and rather explored every pier and arcade in sight. We probably spent 20 pounds on shooting games and 2-cent carnival games, but it was well worth it. The food was awful and the atmosphere was completely overwhelming, but it was a unique experience.
Not much more to say about it really. Just two kids doing kid things in a city made for kids.
Tomorrow? Last game of the season. Going to Manchester to cheer on our team with like-minded locals in some dirty pub.
Last weekend was spent in Liverpool and Blackpool. Getting into Liverpool in the late afternoon, we quickly checked into our hostel and set off to tour the town. Shopping at the same-old redundant English department stores, it was all just putting off the true plans. A concert. An incredible concert.
Liverpool must have missed the memo and decided not to show up, because the venue was scarce. 5 bands for only 6 pounds, this show was worth its weight in gold. First stop? Concert tees! Second stop? Front row. First band? The Wild. The only band of the 5 we didn't know, the band was a surprise. With only about 15 people in the crowd, they struggled to get the crowd involved and ruined their set because of it. Steph and I agree that when we go to a concert, we like to simply enjoy the music and maybe sing along. When we have a singer, therefore, that demands you jump and move and dance every 5 seconds, we quickly get annoyed. Too bad too, because they had some good music.
The second band was Rio, a local English band. They were absolutely incredible. They played a short, high-energy set that was a lot of fun. The third band was the Dangerous Summer. Considering their show in Iowa got cancelled a year ago because of a blizzard, I was very excited to see them. They played a great set including all of our favorites (even the single famously used in the Hull, England Keswick episode!). I loved them, Steph liked them. After meeting them after the show, Steph loved them (THEY WERE SOOOO NICE!!).
Band 4 was a shared interest and Steph's highlight. As long as we've listened to Anarbor, we have still never gotten a chance to see them. Their music was great, and their show was awesome. Steph would probably consider it the best of the 5, but I would argue the Swellers were. Band number 5. I had no clue who the Swellers were when we bought the tickets, but I quickly bought the CD and was blown away. Their music is fast, loud, and often pretty rough. I think they realized that I was the only kid in the crowd belting out the lyrics to every song, and they acknowledged us a few times. Steph got some credit too for sporting a pretty sharp Swellers T-shirt.
The highlight of the night? Before the final song (one of my favorites played due to my request), the bass player pointed at Steph and I and said, and I quote, "This one goes out to you two; the lovebirds." Can you imagine that? He must watch our videos and read our blog.
The next morning, we went to Blackpool. Steph compared it to the Jersey Shore. I compared it to a city made from a mix of Adventureland and Treasure City. We went back and forth from loving it to hating it. In hindsight, however, we loved it but would hesitate to go back. Needing to save some money, we opted out of going to the amusement park and rather explored every pier and arcade in sight. We probably spent 20 pounds on shooting games and 2-cent carnival games, but it was well worth it. The food was awful and the atmosphere was completely overwhelming, but it was a unique experience.
Not much more to say about it really. Just two kids doing kid things in a city made for kids.
Tomorrow? Last game of the season. Going to Manchester to cheer on our team with like-minded locals in some dirty pub.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Spring Break Part 7 (Days 21,22,23,24)
Day 21 and 22
There was little that could comfort our departure from the beautiful Varenna on Lake Como, Italy. Of all places, however, Venice fit the bill. The last stop of our journey, Venice was a highly anticipated stop for both Steph and I after hearing mixed reviews throughout our Italian quest. As we stepped off the train, we saw canals instead of roads and boats instead of cars (and the obnoxious Italian Vespas). Walking from the train station towards the grand canal, we saw tourism like never before. Hoards of people with open-wide eyes and maps in their hands, we fit right in. It seemed as though Venice was the mecca for all the street vendors trying to sell flying saucer toys, squishy desk toys, watches, and purses.
Skipping by the barrage of tourist-aimed activity, however, we discovered a town beyond anything we ever expected. Sure, the town was full of stores either too expensive to even enter or catering to tourist interests, but the town had an inexplicable beauty. Canals sat idly under forgotten bridges in every corner of town. Winding roads ended at canals full of striped-shirt gondoliers. Decadent houses long past their prime lined the moss-covered edges of the beautiful canals. It was easy to see why this city was so popular. Despite its tourist overtaking, the town retained an undeniable beauty that couldn't be matched by anywhere else. It was a different beauty than the Cinque Terre and Como. It was an ugly beauty. And we loved it.
Expecting the worst from Venice, we were very surprised. We were told that it was an over-priced city. Yet we got pizza for dinner for a total of 6 euros, pizza for lunch for a total of 5 euros, and McDonalds for dinner for a total of 10 euros. We even found some of the BEST gelato for only 2 euro 2 flavor double-scoop. Needless to say, if Venice was expensive, we surely didn't notice.
We had nothing planned for Venice other than walk around and explore. We had officially ran out of money and were required to create our own entertainment. This, unfortunately, eliminated the potential for a two-person gondola ride that was priced at nearly 100 euros. Staying true to their nature, however, my parents saved the day with a last second donation of funds that would allow us to go on the gondola if we so chose.
After much debate, however, we decided against it. It wasn't quite as romantic as it looks. The gondoliers are crude, cigarette-smoking, old men that try to swindle you out of money as you walk by their docked gondolas. The gondolas are dated, with worn, grimy velvet, decaying on the seats of where the customers sit. It reminded me a lot of the horses that pull carriages through Central Park. In theory, very romantic. In reality, however, kind of gross and smelly. The money, however, was put to good use, allowing us to survive one more day and then the way back home. Did I mention that on the last day in Como we had to skip lunch and dinner and not eat because we didn't have enough money for it? Needless to say, the money couldn't have come at a better time and was much appreciated.
We still got a feel for Venice gondolas, however, as we took a cheap ferry-esque boat from one side of Venice to the other via the Grand Canal, passing under the Rialto Bridge. Better yet, we payed .50 euros each to have a gondolier take us across the Grand Canal (a task many Venetians require considering only 3 bridges cross the canal). The 1 minute trip was the best money spent the entire trip and was a easily a highlight of our stay in Venice.
Both days spent in Venice were fabulous. We loved everything about it and did not want to leave. Especially for what we had in store.
Day 23
At 2:00 p.m. of our final day in Italy, we took a bus from Venice to the Venice Treviso airport, an hour long trip without air conditioning in the blistering hot Italian sun. Upon arriving, we did nothing but sit and wait. We were there at 3:00 p.m. and our flight left at 10:30. We got pretty bored. Time passed so slowly. Or so we thought.
At about 8:00, it was time for me to jump into action. After buying countless souvenirs, we did not have enough room for all of our stuff. We had come with only 2 backpacks stuffed to the brim with stuff, including clothes in space-bags. But we now had a bag FULL of souvenirs. If you do the math correctly, that left us with 3 bags worth of stuff. Quiz time. Do you think we paid to check our third bag (considering RyanAir strictly allows only one piece of carry-on luggage)? No. Of course not. That would have cost money! So, at 8:00, I went to put on every piece of clothing I had brought for the 3 weeks: Too many socks to count, 10 layers around the waist (including a swimsuit, athletic shorts, khaki shorts and more all stuffed under already-pretty thin fitting jeans), and 8 layers on the top half. I looked, and felt, like the Michelin Man. Steph did the same.
Security must have thought we were idiots as we waddled through security and to our gate, but we were happy. We beat the system and it made us proud. Unfortunately though, there were people who checked your amount of carry-on luggage prior to boarding the plane at your gate, so Steph and I were required to keep our layers on until we landed in Liverpool at midnight. 4 hours in that many clothes got pretty rough pretty quick.
Once in Liverpool, though, we got to take off the layers and relax. Relax all night. From 12:00 to 8:00 a.m. NOW time passed slowly. To our luck, the airport was freezing cold, and had nowhere cozy to stay. Steph and I moved from place to place as she tried to sleep and I remained awake. After finding refuge in the Euro-per-10 minute leather massage chairs, we bunkered in for a long night below a statue of John Lennon.
Day 24
As morning finally broke, and the first buses to Lime Street Train Station arrived, it was all a monotonous journey. Hop on bus, get on train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on bus, hop off at Cranbrook Avenue. A one block walk and we were home. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were ready to sleep, something we hadn't done in about 30 hours at this point. But Manchester United was playing. So there was a quick change into our jerseys and off to the pub to watch our favorite team and get some of the horrible English food we have grown to find comforting. We were home.
There was little that could comfort our departure from the beautiful Varenna on Lake Como, Italy. Of all places, however, Venice fit the bill. The last stop of our journey, Venice was a highly anticipated stop for both Steph and I after hearing mixed reviews throughout our Italian quest. As we stepped off the train, we saw canals instead of roads and boats instead of cars (and the obnoxious Italian Vespas). Walking from the train station towards the grand canal, we saw tourism like never before. Hoards of people with open-wide eyes and maps in their hands, we fit right in. It seemed as though Venice was the mecca for all the street vendors trying to sell flying saucer toys, squishy desk toys, watches, and purses.
Skipping by the barrage of tourist-aimed activity, however, we discovered a town beyond anything we ever expected. Sure, the town was full of stores either too expensive to even enter or catering to tourist interests, but the town had an inexplicable beauty. Canals sat idly under forgotten bridges in every corner of town. Winding roads ended at canals full of striped-shirt gondoliers. Decadent houses long past their prime lined the moss-covered edges of the beautiful canals. It was easy to see why this city was so popular. Despite its tourist overtaking, the town retained an undeniable beauty that couldn't be matched by anywhere else. It was a different beauty than the Cinque Terre and Como. It was an ugly beauty. And we loved it.
Expecting the worst from Venice, we were very surprised. We were told that it was an over-priced city. Yet we got pizza for dinner for a total of 6 euros, pizza for lunch for a total of 5 euros, and McDonalds for dinner for a total of 10 euros. We even found some of the BEST gelato for only 2 euro 2 flavor double-scoop. Needless to say, if Venice was expensive, we surely didn't notice.
We had nothing planned for Venice other than walk around and explore. We had officially ran out of money and were required to create our own entertainment. This, unfortunately, eliminated the potential for a two-person gondola ride that was priced at nearly 100 euros. Staying true to their nature, however, my parents saved the day with a last second donation of funds that would allow us to go on the gondola if we so chose.
After much debate, however, we decided against it. It wasn't quite as romantic as it looks. The gondoliers are crude, cigarette-smoking, old men that try to swindle you out of money as you walk by their docked gondolas. The gondolas are dated, with worn, grimy velvet, decaying on the seats of where the customers sit. It reminded me a lot of the horses that pull carriages through Central Park. In theory, very romantic. In reality, however, kind of gross and smelly. The money, however, was put to good use, allowing us to survive one more day and then the way back home. Did I mention that on the last day in Como we had to skip lunch and dinner and not eat because we didn't have enough money for it? Needless to say, the money couldn't have come at a better time and was much appreciated.
We still got a feel for Venice gondolas, however, as we took a cheap ferry-esque boat from one side of Venice to the other via the Grand Canal, passing under the Rialto Bridge. Better yet, we payed .50 euros each to have a gondolier take us across the Grand Canal (a task many Venetians require considering only 3 bridges cross the canal). The 1 minute trip was the best money spent the entire trip and was a easily a highlight of our stay in Venice.
Both days spent in Venice were fabulous. We loved everything about it and did not want to leave. Especially for what we had in store.
Day 23
At 2:00 p.m. of our final day in Italy, we took a bus from Venice to the Venice Treviso airport, an hour long trip without air conditioning in the blistering hot Italian sun. Upon arriving, we did nothing but sit and wait. We were there at 3:00 p.m. and our flight left at 10:30. We got pretty bored. Time passed so slowly. Or so we thought.
At about 8:00, it was time for me to jump into action. After buying countless souvenirs, we did not have enough room for all of our stuff. We had come with only 2 backpacks stuffed to the brim with stuff, including clothes in space-bags. But we now had a bag FULL of souvenirs. If you do the math correctly, that left us with 3 bags worth of stuff. Quiz time. Do you think we paid to check our third bag (considering RyanAir strictly allows only one piece of carry-on luggage)? No. Of course not. That would have cost money! So, at 8:00, I went to put on every piece of clothing I had brought for the 3 weeks: Too many socks to count, 10 layers around the waist (including a swimsuit, athletic shorts, khaki shorts and more all stuffed under already-pretty thin fitting jeans), and 8 layers on the top half. I looked, and felt, like the Michelin Man. Steph did the same.
Security must have thought we were idiots as we waddled through security and to our gate, but we were happy. We beat the system and it made us proud. Unfortunately though, there were people who checked your amount of carry-on luggage prior to boarding the plane at your gate, so Steph and I were required to keep our layers on until we landed in Liverpool at midnight. 4 hours in that many clothes got pretty rough pretty quick.
Once in Liverpool, though, we got to take off the layers and relax. Relax all night. From 12:00 to 8:00 a.m. NOW time passed slowly. To our luck, the airport was freezing cold, and had nowhere cozy to stay. Steph and I moved from place to place as she tried to sleep and I remained awake. After finding refuge in the Euro-per-10 minute leather massage chairs, we bunkered in for a long night below a statue of John Lennon.
Day 24
As morning finally broke, and the first buses to Lime Street Train Station arrived, it was all a monotonous journey. Hop on bus, get on train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on next train, show conductor pass, get off train, get on bus, hop off at Cranbrook Avenue. A one block walk and we were home. It was the middle of the afternoon and we were ready to sleep, something we hadn't done in about 30 hours at this point. But Manchester United was playing. So there was a quick change into our jerseys and off to the pub to watch our favorite team and get some of the horrible English food we have grown to find comforting. We were home.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Spring Break Part 6 (Days 18,19,20)
Day 18
Leaving paradise may have been harder, had it not been for the next destination of our journey. One of the biggest things on my Bucket List from before I can remember has always been to go to Lake Como in Italy. As we hopped on the train, Eurail passes in hand, we waved goodbye to the tropical beauty of the Cinque Terre and tried to contain our excitement. Much like Red wonders if the ocean would be as blue as he always imagined in the closing moments of Shawshank Redemption, I wondered what the place would look like. Were my expectations too high? Was it even worth spending 3 days at? No and yes, respectively.
Lake Como, a magnificent body of water surrounded by the Alps, has numerous towns littered along its shores. Our home base was Varenna, a quiet town with nothing to do but enjoy the view. Lucking out again, we were treated to a room with a magnificent view of the lake. Nothing spectacular by most peoples' opinions, but to us, it was gorgeous.
Walking from the train station to the hotel to lake, my heart began to race. I was prepared for heartbreak but experienced overwhelming jubilation. It was better than in the movies. It was prettier than the post cards. It was spectacular. I wanted to freeze the image in my head. But I knew I couldn't and that video and photos would have to suffice. Disparagingly trying to duplicate intangible beauty left us frustrated and hopeless. For once, we decided we would hog the true beauty. Our families back home could be content with pictures that didn't capture the beauty and video that paled in comparison to real life. But we were there. At last.
The rest of the night was spent with our jaws on the ground and eyes to the horizon. It may have been too cold to eat outside, but we each got a delicious cheese pizza and ate it outside overlooking the lake. Our teeth chattered as we ate the pizza, but we couldn't pass up the luxurious feeling of eating on a posh terrace overlooking a picturesque scene. Totally worth it, minus the ducks nipping our feet trying to get some food. Unfortunately for them, however, the pizza was too good to share.
Day 19:
First thing in the morning, we hopped a ferry to the other side of the lake in order to go to Bellagio. A much more substantial town, Bellagio offered a full day of picnicking, gazing, and shopping. Surprisingly for two poor college kids, we didn't feel out of place in the posh streets of Bellagio. We soaked in all the sights and enjoyed our careless wandering with gelato in hand. For the first time, I tried the popular Italian gelato flavor of Pistachio. Taken aback at first, I grew to LOVE it. Who knew nut-flavored gelato could be so good? The dull green color didn't help its appeal, but the taste made it completely worth it. For dinner, we went to a pizza place and got a "Family size" pizza intended to feed 4-5. The workers laughed until we brought back the empty box. Some of the best pizza we had all trip, we couldn't help but eat like it was our final meal. Which, in a sense, it almost was. Our days in Italy were numbered and we knew that there was not much time left.
Day 20:
Sticking with our plans from the previous 5 days, we did nothing. Relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful weather. The only thing on the schedule was to try and find a TV that was playing the Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich Champions League game that night. Until then, we fed the ducks. Hoping for a cherry on the top of our wonderful Varenna stay, we went down to the bar below our hotel to watch the game in a room full of local Italians that night. Jubilation set in when we went up 3-0. Disappointment took over when the game ended 3-2 (confusingly knocking our team, Manchester, out of the competition). After the week we'd been having however, we didn't care. Soccer could cease to exist if it meant we could stay near Lake Como.
It was a surreal experience spending 3 nights in a place I have dreamed about my whole life. My mind ran on overdrive wondering if it was living up to my expectations. I was worried that something would happen; I would wake up; realize it was a dream. But it wasn't. It was really there and Steph and I weren't ready to leave. The bakery in our hotel, however, had her favorite donut the morning of our departure. Suddenly, Steph was being pulled to the train quicker than ever. Man, that girl and her baked goods. My vice? Gelato. Hers? Delicious pastries. Together? Awful diets.
Leaving paradise may have been harder, had it not been for the next destination of our journey. One of the biggest things on my Bucket List from before I can remember has always been to go to Lake Como in Italy. As we hopped on the train, Eurail passes in hand, we waved goodbye to the tropical beauty of the Cinque Terre and tried to contain our excitement. Much like Red wonders if the ocean would be as blue as he always imagined in the closing moments of Shawshank Redemption, I wondered what the place would look like. Were my expectations too high? Was it even worth spending 3 days at? No and yes, respectively.
Lake Como, a magnificent body of water surrounded by the Alps, has numerous towns littered along its shores. Our home base was Varenna, a quiet town with nothing to do but enjoy the view. Lucking out again, we were treated to a room with a magnificent view of the lake. Nothing spectacular by most peoples' opinions, but to us, it was gorgeous.
Walking from the train station to the hotel to lake, my heart began to race. I was prepared for heartbreak but experienced overwhelming jubilation. It was better than in the movies. It was prettier than the post cards. It was spectacular. I wanted to freeze the image in my head. But I knew I couldn't and that video and photos would have to suffice. Disparagingly trying to duplicate intangible beauty left us frustrated and hopeless. For once, we decided we would hog the true beauty. Our families back home could be content with pictures that didn't capture the beauty and video that paled in comparison to real life. But we were there. At last.
The rest of the night was spent with our jaws on the ground and eyes to the horizon. It may have been too cold to eat outside, but we each got a delicious cheese pizza and ate it outside overlooking the lake. Our teeth chattered as we ate the pizza, but we couldn't pass up the luxurious feeling of eating on a posh terrace overlooking a picturesque scene. Totally worth it, minus the ducks nipping our feet trying to get some food. Unfortunately for them, however, the pizza was too good to share.
Day 19:
First thing in the morning, we hopped a ferry to the other side of the lake in order to go to Bellagio. A much more substantial town, Bellagio offered a full day of picnicking, gazing, and shopping. Surprisingly for two poor college kids, we didn't feel out of place in the posh streets of Bellagio. We soaked in all the sights and enjoyed our careless wandering with gelato in hand. For the first time, I tried the popular Italian gelato flavor of Pistachio. Taken aback at first, I grew to LOVE it. Who knew nut-flavored gelato could be so good? The dull green color didn't help its appeal, but the taste made it completely worth it. For dinner, we went to a pizza place and got a "Family size" pizza intended to feed 4-5. The workers laughed until we brought back the empty box. Some of the best pizza we had all trip, we couldn't help but eat like it was our final meal. Which, in a sense, it almost was. Our days in Italy were numbered and we knew that there was not much time left.
Day 20:
Sticking with our plans from the previous 5 days, we did nothing. Relaxed and enjoyed the beautiful weather. The only thing on the schedule was to try and find a TV that was playing the Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich Champions League game that night. Until then, we fed the ducks. Hoping for a cherry on the top of our wonderful Varenna stay, we went down to the bar below our hotel to watch the game in a room full of local Italians that night. Jubilation set in when we went up 3-0. Disappointment took over when the game ended 3-2 (confusingly knocking our team, Manchester, out of the competition). After the week we'd been having however, we didn't care. Soccer could cease to exist if it meant we could stay near Lake Como.
It was a surreal experience spending 3 nights in a place I have dreamed about my whole life. My mind ran on overdrive wondering if it was living up to my expectations. I was worried that something would happen; I would wake up; realize it was a dream. But it wasn't. It was really there and Steph and I weren't ready to leave. The bakery in our hotel, however, had her favorite donut the morning of our departure. Suddenly, Steph was being pulled to the train quicker than ever. Man, that girl and her baked goods. My vice? Gelato. Hers? Delicious pastries. Together? Awful diets.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Spring Break Part 5 (Days 15,16,17)
Still recovering from the whirlwind trip of Italy, we are here to update you with the next leg of our journey.
Day 15:
With the gelato sitting heavily within our stomachs, we took off for paradise. Before making it there, however, we had a much anticipated, and purely touristy, stop in Pisa. Our plans? Walk to the Leaning Tower, climb up, take funny pictures, and leave. We did exactly that.
We had booked our non-refundable tickets in advance in order to ensure our access to the top of the Tower. Knowing there could be lines and no room, we bit the bullet and payed way too much money for advance tickets. A little part of me worried, however, due to the non-refundable nature of these tickets. I worried because I was told the tower often closed in bad weather. No worries though right? I mean, we hadn't had rain more than once or twice in Italy.
Sitting on the train trying to stay awake, we stopped at a town about 20 minutes outside of Pisa. Nothing unusual besides for the influx of about 10 Nigerian men carrying umbrellas. Had we not been traveling in Italy for 2 weeks, we would have thought nothing of it. But, as you may know, we had become somewhat experienced by then and we knew that these Nigerian men were only to be seen near the large tourist attractions. Normally they sold handbags, but today they had umbrellas. Something clicked in my head that maybe these guys checked the weather...
Stepping off the train and CRACK. Lighting was overhead as rain began to fall. Not a big deal, had it not been for 2 25 buck tickets that were quickly becoming useless in my pocket. I tried my hardest not to mention any of this to Steph as I knew she was ecstatic for our endeavor up the Tower. Thankfully, I never had to break the bad news to her. Luck was on our side as the rain stopped as we hit the Field of Miracles.
We paid a lot of money to climb up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it was worth every penny. It was a surreal feeling that completely altered your senses. I felt as though I was entering an MC Escher painting. Our trip had to be quick though in order to catch the train to paradise!
Entering paradise, our train went through a long, 2-minute tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, my eyes struggled to focus as I looked at what I thought was an extraordinarily bright sky. As they focused, however, I saw the bluest ocean I have ever seen. This is when I knew we had entered paradise: a land known as the Cinque Terre.
Steph and I didn't even wait for the doors to open as we jumped out of the train onto a concrete platform baking in sunlight overlooking the ocean. Was it really the ocean? We have no idea. We figured it is connected to the ocean, so it is the ocean. Check Google Maps and let us know. We didn't care. We were like kids in a candy shop. We had our eyes open wide as we walked to our hotel for our three-night stay.
Whoever said you can't get luxury for cheap? 60 euros a night, and we felt like royalty. Sitting atop the hill in Manarola (town 2 of the 5 Cinque Terre towns), our hotel had only three rooms. Ours had a balcony. If that wasn't cool enough, check out the video whens it's up. What's cooler than waking up to use the bathroom in the morning and before crawling back into bed, stepping out and breathing the fresh air as you look out over the bright blue water framed by pastel houses perched on the side of a cliff?
We then took a walk from town 2 (Manarola) to town 1 (Riomaggiore) via the 'Trail of Love.' A simple 25-minute hike that wrapped around the edge of land overlooking the water, this trail is known for its connection to love. It is covered in amorous graffiti and gushy couples walking hand in hand (like two people I'm sure you all know). Needless to say, we fit right in. There is a local tradition that if you and your significant other lock a padlock in a special, romantic place, that you will have eternal love. Needless to say, we did it.
On our way back, we stopped to have a snack at an outdoor cafe overlooking the water as the sun set. We got cake and hot chocolate as we celebrated the beauty of life. And the hot chocolate was literally hot, melted, chocolate. How yummy. After that, it was aimless gazing and wandering as we begrudgingly left the outdoor beauty of paradise for internal confines of a room. But remember, we did have a balcony!
Day 16:
No time for rest for these 2 kids! Waking up as early as possible, we were determined to hike the entire length of the Cinque Terre, from Manarola (town 2) to Monterosso (town 5), about a 4 hour hike. It was long and difficult, but very much worth it. Spectacular views and countless friendly kitties help motivate our tired bodies to climb the countless hills and stairs. I was very impressed for two non-hikers. This day was to be spent in town 4, Vernazza. Arguably the most dramatic of the 5, Vernazza provided us a day full of nothing but beauty. The itinerary? Relax, cannoli, sit on the rocks and rate the crashing waves, cannoli, pizza, cannoli and slushes. And gelato of course.
We met our favorite Italians of the trip at a local pastry shop. Two true-blooded Sicilians who loved Steph and I had some of the best treats we have ever had. Helping clueless foreigners get the best treats, they taught us how delicious Sicilian pastries are. Stephs favorite? The oversized ricotta cheese cannoli. My favorite? Their homemade fruit slushes with homemade cream. I think Steph loved the place because they called her pretty.
Day 17:
This day? A whole lot of nothing. Nothing at all. We got more pastries of course, but nothing else. It was Easter and we figured that doing nothing was the best way to celebrate the holiday. We sat together and debated why we would soon have to leave. We thought of ways to stay. Would anyone notice if we never came back to civilization? We didn't have internet, no phone, no ties to humanity. Surely no one would notice? Unfortunately, we knew better and realized that our time was limited in this gorgeous chunk of earth. We thought that in order to truly appreciate such a place, we needed to do absolutely nothing and soak in the beauty one last time.
There is something completely calming about the consistent sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. The waves try so hard to be fierce and intimidating, yet they cannot escape the label of soothing. This we noticed as we finished our sugar cone and headed for our temporary home, one last time.
Day 15:
With the gelato sitting heavily within our stomachs, we took off for paradise. Before making it there, however, we had a much anticipated, and purely touristy, stop in Pisa. Our plans? Walk to the Leaning Tower, climb up, take funny pictures, and leave. We did exactly that.
We had booked our non-refundable tickets in advance in order to ensure our access to the top of the Tower. Knowing there could be lines and no room, we bit the bullet and payed way too much money for advance tickets. A little part of me worried, however, due to the non-refundable nature of these tickets. I worried because I was told the tower often closed in bad weather. No worries though right? I mean, we hadn't had rain more than once or twice in Italy.
Sitting on the train trying to stay awake, we stopped at a town about 20 minutes outside of Pisa. Nothing unusual besides for the influx of about 10 Nigerian men carrying umbrellas. Had we not been traveling in Italy for 2 weeks, we would have thought nothing of it. But, as you may know, we had become somewhat experienced by then and we knew that these Nigerian men were only to be seen near the large tourist attractions. Normally they sold handbags, but today they had umbrellas. Something clicked in my head that maybe these guys checked the weather...
Stepping off the train and CRACK. Lighting was overhead as rain began to fall. Not a big deal, had it not been for 2 25 buck tickets that were quickly becoming useless in my pocket. I tried my hardest not to mention any of this to Steph as I knew she was ecstatic for our endeavor up the Tower. Thankfully, I never had to break the bad news to her. Luck was on our side as the rain stopped as we hit the Field of Miracles.
We paid a lot of money to climb up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it was worth every penny. It was a surreal feeling that completely altered your senses. I felt as though I was entering an MC Escher painting. Our trip had to be quick though in order to catch the train to paradise!
Entering paradise, our train went through a long, 2-minute tunnel. Upon exiting the tunnel, my eyes struggled to focus as I looked at what I thought was an extraordinarily bright sky. As they focused, however, I saw the bluest ocean I have ever seen. This is when I knew we had entered paradise: a land known as the Cinque Terre.
Steph and I didn't even wait for the doors to open as we jumped out of the train onto a concrete platform baking in sunlight overlooking the ocean. Was it really the ocean? We have no idea. We figured it is connected to the ocean, so it is the ocean. Check Google Maps and let us know. We didn't care. We were like kids in a candy shop. We had our eyes open wide as we walked to our hotel for our three-night stay.
Whoever said you can't get luxury for cheap? 60 euros a night, and we felt like royalty. Sitting atop the hill in Manarola (town 2 of the 5 Cinque Terre towns), our hotel had only three rooms. Ours had a balcony. If that wasn't cool enough, check out the video whens it's up. What's cooler than waking up to use the bathroom in the morning and before crawling back into bed, stepping out and breathing the fresh air as you look out over the bright blue water framed by pastel houses perched on the side of a cliff?
We then took a walk from town 2 (Manarola) to town 1 (Riomaggiore) via the 'Trail of Love.' A simple 25-minute hike that wrapped around the edge of land overlooking the water, this trail is known for its connection to love. It is covered in amorous graffiti and gushy couples walking hand in hand (like two people I'm sure you all know). Needless to say, we fit right in. There is a local tradition that if you and your significant other lock a padlock in a special, romantic place, that you will have eternal love. Needless to say, we did it.
On our way back, we stopped to have a snack at an outdoor cafe overlooking the water as the sun set. We got cake and hot chocolate as we celebrated the beauty of life. And the hot chocolate was literally hot, melted, chocolate. How yummy. After that, it was aimless gazing and wandering as we begrudgingly left the outdoor beauty of paradise for internal confines of a room. But remember, we did have a balcony!
Day 16:
No time for rest for these 2 kids! Waking up as early as possible, we were determined to hike the entire length of the Cinque Terre, from Manarola (town 2) to Monterosso (town 5), about a 4 hour hike. It was long and difficult, but very much worth it. Spectacular views and countless friendly kitties help motivate our tired bodies to climb the countless hills and stairs. I was very impressed for two non-hikers. This day was to be spent in town 4, Vernazza. Arguably the most dramatic of the 5, Vernazza provided us a day full of nothing but beauty. The itinerary? Relax, cannoli, sit on the rocks and rate the crashing waves, cannoli, pizza, cannoli and slushes. And gelato of course.
We met our favorite Italians of the trip at a local pastry shop. Two true-blooded Sicilians who loved Steph and I had some of the best treats we have ever had. Helping clueless foreigners get the best treats, they taught us how delicious Sicilian pastries are. Stephs favorite? The oversized ricotta cheese cannoli. My favorite? Their homemade fruit slushes with homemade cream. I think Steph loved the place because they called her pretty.
Day 17:
This day? A whole lot of nothing. Nothing at all. We got more pastries of course, but nothing else. It was Easter and we figured that doing nothing was the best way to celebrate the holiday. We sat together and debated why we would soon have to leave. We thought of ways to stay. Would anyone notice if we never came back to civilization? We didn't have internet, no phone, no ties to humanity. Surely no one would notice? Unfortunately, we knew better and realized that our time was limited in this gorgeous chunk of earth. We thought that in order to truly appreciate such a place, we needed to do absolutely nothing and soak in the beauty one last time.
There is something completely calming about the consistent sound of the waves crashing against the rocks. The waves try so hard to be fierce and intimidating, yet they cannot escape the label of soothing. This we noticed as we finished our sugar cone and headed for our temporary home, one last time.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Spring Break Part 4 (Days 11,12,13,14)
Day 11
After waking up one last time in beautiful Siena and enjoying our ritual morning gelato, it was to the bus station, Volterra in sight. Still new to the use of buses as transportation instead of trains, we mistakingly took a bus on a half-hour circular trip around the city of Siena. Once we pulled up to the stop in which we started, Steph looked at me and said "Uh...I don't think this is Colle Val D'elsa (our intended layover connection)." Angry about the mistake, we reused our bus tickets and hopped on the right bus. This time, we made it to our layover stop in Colla Val D'elsa before connecting to the beautiful hill town of Volterra.
Unfortunately for us, our lodging was located on the outer corner of Volterra, a 10 minute walk from the town center. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but our quickly growing backpacks made it so. We saved money by booking a room in an active convent for only 26 euros. Everything was nice and pleasing, but it was still a bit odd. I mean, it was a true convent. Imagine...staying in a church. The halls were vast and tall enough to hear an echo. Being the only ones staying there only made things creepier.
The stars were not aligned for us to fall in love with Volterra. The town was beautiful, with arguably one of the best Tuscan views we had seen, but weather and health trumped that joy. It was the coldest day of the trip, with sweatshirts and jackets barely keeping us warm enough to explore. An unnecessarily long morning of bus travel had made both of us fatigued and left me somewhat sick. Sick enough to only get gelato twice that day. Needless to say, with bad weather, tired kids, a boring city, and a long walk, we spent a good amount of time in the creepy convent.
Days 12/13/14
It was another morning of bus travel, but by then we were champs. 2 smooth bus rides and we were in the city that may have very well been the biggest surprise of our trip. While not our favorite city, Florence blew our expectations. Unlike Rome, we were not able to both splurge on food and visit all of the historical monuments. For these 3 days, it was one or the other. Did I mention Florence is the capital of gelato? Food won, and historical monuments were neglected. In fact, our stay in Florence may very well be best described by our numerous gelato conquests. All 10 of them.
The town of Florence was beautiful and clean. There was plenty of window shopping as we walked by shops selling things we will never be able to afford. Every gelato stop was a success and we each eventually picked a favorite. Mine was called Grom (and turns out to be an Italian chain) and its specialty is all natural ingredients and a menu that changes in accordance with local fruits and produce. Stephs was the fabulous Festival Del Gelato which provided a parade of amazing flavors (Strawberry Cheesecake being the best).
We treated ourselves to laundry for the first, and only, time this trip. Considering we were surviving out of our backpacks for the entire trip, clothes were constantly re-worn and packed into stench-filled plastic bags. Putting on clean clothes is a beautiful feeling that is taken for granted.
The only thing spoiling our pleasant stay in such a nice town was our lodging. While the price was nice and the location was excellent, the habitat was awful. 1. They made us switch rooms after night one. 2. Our light did not work. 3. The double bed was two twins pushed together. 4. They did not turn on the heat and would not allow us to have a blanket. We saw one in the hall and put it in our room, and they came in and took it out saying that the sheet and the comforter were enough. Above all these issues, however, was the unbearable volume of our hosts. A true Italian couple, these two individuals did not understand the concept of keeping it down. They celebrated and watched TV outside of the rooms until midnight and were up yelling at 7 a.m. Considering how thin the walls in Europe are, this was unbearable. I can sleep through a lot, but not this. And it was nonstop. About nothing to boot. Just simple chit chat that they thought would be better communicated through shouting across the hall. We would've caught up on sleep during the day, but our luck provided construction on the street below from 10 to 5.
Crummy hosts didn't ruin our stay in Florence though. Clearly surpassing Volterra, Florence left us with an unmistakable impression of beautiful Italy at its nicest. A heaven where gelato is on every corner, Florence was a quiet and peaceful Rome.
Before leaving, however, we jetted off to Fiesole simply for the view. On a hill overlooking Florence, Fiesole provided a breathtaking visual and little more. A few pastry shops and gelato rounded off the trip that was unfortunately hindered by the hazy, cold weather. The trip may have been a complete waste had it not been for the curiously humorous event involving an angry Italian and an oblivious tourist. As buses and cars were stopping at the cross walk in front of the bus station, a man on a scooter was doing the all-too-typical Italian driving style and cutting back and forth between cars as he honked his horn. The cross walk signaled to stop walking, which everyone did, as the scooter proceeded to accelerate while honking his horn. This is when I looked up. And this is when I saw a middle aged asian man obliviously walking in the street get hit by a scooter.
It was one of the moments when you don't know what to think. As his coffee and bags flew across the street and the Italian angrily threw down his scooter and walked to the injured man, the severity of the event was unknown. I wanted to laugh but I didn't know if it was because I am a bad person or if it is the psychological argument that says people laugh when they are uncomfortable. Upon learning that the accident was not serious, I felt better about my reaction. Because I laughed. Sheepishly, sure, but a laugh is still a laugh. Thankfully no one was hurt and Steph and I were provided with an innocent mental image of a dramatic Italian moped accident.
Im trying to catch up with these posts, but there is so much to say with so little time and internet access! You guys will be hit with a barrage of updates in the next few days as we get back into our rhythm at Hull. Right now, however, it is 4:36 AM at the Liverpool airport and the computer is about dead. Stay tuned for part 5: Pisa and Cinque Terre!
After waking up one last time in beautiful Siena and enjoying our ritual morning gelato, it was to the bus station, Volterra in sight. Still new to the use of buses as transportation instead of trains, we mistakingly took a bus on a half-hour circular trip around the city of Siena. Once we pulled up to the stop in which we started, Steph looked at me and said "Uh...I don't think this is Colle Val D'elsa (our intended layover connection)." Angry about the mistake, we reused our bus tickets and hopped on the right bus. This time, we made it to our layover stop in Colla Val D'elsa before connecting to the beautiful hill town of Volterra.
Unfortunately for us, our lodging was located on the outer corner of Volterra, a 10 minute walk from the town center. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue, but our quickly growing backpacks made it so. We saved money by booking a room in an active convent for only 26 euros. Everything was nice and pleasing, but it was still a bit odd. I mean, it was a true convent. Imagine...staying in a church. The halls were vast and tall enough to hear an echo. Being the only ones staying there only made things creepier.
The stars were not aligned for us to fall in love with Volterra. The town was beautiful, with arguably one of the best Tuscan views we had seen, but weather and health trumped that joy. It was the coldest day of the trip, with sweatshirts and jackets barely keeping us warm enough to explore. An unnecessarily long morning of bus travel had made both of us fatigued and left me somewhat sick. Sick enough to only get gelato twice that day. Needless to say, with bad weather, tired kids, a boring city, and a long walk, we spent a good amount of time in the creepy convent.
Days 12/13/14
It was another morning of bus travel, but by then we were champs. 2 smooth bus rides and we were in the city that may have very well been the biggest surprise of our trip. While not our favorite city, Florence blew our expectations. Unlike Rome, we were not able to both splurge on food and visit all of the historical monuments. For these 3 days, it was one or the other. Did I mention Florence is the capital of gelato? Food won, and historical monuments were neglected. In fact, our stay in Florence may very well be best described by our numerous gelato conquests. All 10 of them.
The town of Florence was beautiful and clean. There was plenty of window shopping as we walked by shops selling things we will never be able to afford. Every gelato stop was a success and we each eventually picked a favorite. Mine was called Grom (and turns out to be an Italian chain) and its specialty is all natural ingredients and a menu that changes in accordance with local fruits and produce. Stephs was the fabulous Festival Del Gelato which provided a parade of amazing flavors (Strawberry Cheesecake being the best).
We treated ourselves to laundry for the first, and only, time this trip. Considering we were surviving out of our backpacks for the entire trip, clothes were constantly re-worn and packed into stench-filled plastic bags. Putting on clean clothes is a beautiful feeling that is taken for granted.
The only thing spoiling our pleasant stay in such a nice town was our lodging. While the price was nice and the location was excellent, the habitat was awful. 1. They made us switch rooms after night one. 2. Our light did not work. 3. The double bed was two twins pushed together. 4. They did not turn on the heat and would not allow us to have a blanket. We saw one in the hall and put it in our room, and they came in and took it out saying that the sheet and the comforter were enough. Above all these issues, however, was the unbearable volume of our hosts. A true Italian couple, these two individuals did not understand the concept of keeping it down. They celebrated and watched TV outside of the rooms until midnight and were up yelling at 7 a.m. Considering how thin the walls in Europe are, this was unbearable. I can sleep through a lot, but not this. And it was nonstop. About nothing to boot. Just simple chit chat that they thought would be better communicated through shouting across the hall. We would've caught up on sleep during the day, but our luck provided construction on the street below from 10 to 5.
Crummy hosts didn't ruin our stay in Florence though. Clearly surpassing Volterra, Florence left us with an unmistakable impression of beautiful Italy at its nicest. A heaven where gelato is on every corner, Florence was a quiet and peaceful Rome.
Before leaving, however, we jetted off to Fiesole simply for the view. On a hill overlooking Florence, Fiesole provided a breathtaking visual and little more. A few pastry shops and gelato rounded off the trip that was unfortunately hindered by the hazy, cold weather. The trip may have been a complete waste had it not been for the curiously humorous event involving an angry Italian and an oblivious tourist. As buses and cars were stopping at the cross walk in front of the bus station, a man on a scooter was doing the all-too-typical Italian driving style and cutting back and forth between cars as he honked his horn. The cross walk signaled to stop walking, which everyone did, as the scooter proceeded to accelerate while honking his horn. This is when I looked up. And this is when I saw a middle aged asian man obliviously walking in the street get hit by a scooter.
It was one of the moments when you don't know what to think. As his coffee and bags flew across the street and the Italian angrily threw down his scooter and walked to the injured man, the severity of the event was unknown. I wanted to laugh but I didn't know if it was because I am a bad person or if it is the psychological argument that says people laugh when they are uncomfortable. Upon learning that the accident was not serious, I felt better about my reaction. Because I laughed. Sheepishly, sure, but a laugh is still a laugh. Thankfully no one was hurt and Steph and I were provided with an innocent mental image of a dramatic Italian moped accident.
Im trying to catch up with these posts, but there is so much to say with so little time and internet access! You guys will be hit with a barrage of updates in the next few days as we get back into our rhythm at Hull. Right now, however, it is 4:36 AM at the Liverpool airport and the computer is about dead. Stay tuned for part 5: Pisa and Cinque Terre!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Spring Break Part 3 (Days 7,8,9,10)
Day 7: We left the wonderful city of Rome with the Umbrian hilltown of Orvieto in sight. After a scare thinking we lost my credit card, we arrived in Orvieto cash in hand. The lodging was surely the highlight of the trip, putting all other rooms to shame. Placed atop a lush countryside hill, our room was equipped with a private bathroom and private terrace. It was a luxurious bed and breakfast with all the amenities we had forgotten about staying in hostels. If only the owners spoke a word of English.
Thankfully for us, it was market day in Orvieto. We quickly bought pastries and postcards and set off to explore the town. After catching our breath from the stunning views, we hopped a bus to nearby Chivita. We had debated whether or not to spend the money for bus fare, but were quickly thankful of our decision as we approached the town on a cliff. Requiring a 10 minute hike up a bridge simply to reach the town, Chivita was its own separate world. Cut off from all of civilization, the town had no more than 4 restaurants and what appeared to be fewer residents. There seemed to be more cats than residents, a fact we greatly enjoyed.
After basking in the sun and eating pastries, we were approached by some curious kitties. Numerous came and went, but only one, a Buddy clone that we named Chivvy, stayed with us the entire time. Content to sleep in our arms, the cat enjoyed our company and would not leave our side. After convincing Steph we couldnt take him with us, it was time to head back to reality.
Day 8: It was unfortunate that we only booked one night in Orvieto, for the stay was beyond pleasant. The breakfast of cake, toast, and juice fueled our travels towards hill town number 3: Cortona. The basis of the book/movie Under the Tuscan Sun, Cortona was a beautiful place perfectly content to just sit atop a dramatic mountain. We would not complain. For this day had nothing planned other than roam the city. Which we did. All day. With gelato in hand of course.
Dinner was a treat of tortellini and ravioli, but disaster soon struck as the desired gelateria was closed. After bountiful pouting, I discovered that nothing beats gelato for breakfast. And so I knew as we headed back to the convent/hotel for a quick nights sleep.
Day 9/10: The gelato did not dissapoint as I awoke from a cold nights sleep. Bundled up under sweatshirts, we ate our morning gelato in the face of cold weather and strong winds. Unfortunately for us, it turns out, towns perched atop hills do little little to block the already cold weather. The bus driver must have seen our forlorn faces as he allowed us the ride the bus down to the train station for free.
Hopping a train to Siena, we were more than excited. Some slow days in lazy hill towns had rejuvenated us and made us ready for the excellence of Siena. Siena kept with the theme of the past few cities, and allowed us 2 days full of nothing. Shopping, eating, and gelato filled the agenda as we made Il Campo our second home.
Travelers luck was on our side as we were somehow upgraded from a shared bathroom double into a luxury suite, complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and terrace. There was enough room to run laps in the room! What a great surprise. This simply added to the joy that we experienced in Siena.
It is pointless to separate each day and explain our itineraries, for each was equally empty and enjoyable. Imagine wandering a quaint town, eating gelato that magically seemed to reappear every 2 hours, and enjoying the peacfull bliss of doing nothing. It was vacationing at its finest as we forgot about life and slowed things down to a level never reached by us before. 2 days originally seemed much too long is this uneventful town, but in hindsight, it was nowehere near long enough.
These days were quickly explained and did not recieve the justice they deserved. This can be contributed to both the inexplicable nature of this leg of our trip and the lack of time available for my explanations (as the clock in the right hand corner of my screen ticks below 4 minutes, indicating the amount of internet time left in this dingy internet cafe). Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors and typos, but the Italian keybards are much differen (I cant find an apostrophe), I cant figure how to turn on spell check on this computer, and I have no time to proof read. Oh well. Italy rocks. I got gelato 4 times yesterday. We will catch you all up to speed soon. So much to see!
Thankfully for us, it was market day in Orvieto. We quickly bought pastries and postcards and set off to explore the town. After catching our breath from the stunning views, we hopped a bus to nearby Chivita. We had debated whether or not to spend the money for bus fare, but were quickly thankful of our decision as we approached the town on a cliff. Requiring a 10 minute hike up a bridge simply to reach the town, Chivita was its own separate world. Cut off from all of civilization, the town had no more than 4 restaurants and what appeared to be fewer residents. There seemed to be more cats than residents, a fact we greatly enjoyed.
After basking in the sun and eating pastries, we were approached by some curious kitties. Numerous came and went, but only one, a Buddy clone that we named Chivvy, stayed with us the entire time. Content to sleep in our arms, the cat enjoyed our company and would not leave our side. After convincing Steph we couldnt take him with us, it was time to head back to reality.
Day 8: It was unfortunate that we only booked one night in Orvieto, for the stay was beyond pleasant. The breakfast of cake, toast, and juice fueled our travels towards hill town number 3: Cortona. The basis of the book/movie Under the Tuscan Sun, Cortona was a beautiful place perfectly content to just sit atop a dramatic mountain. We would not complain. For this day had nothing planned other than roam the city. Which we did. All day. With gelato in hand of course.
Dinner was a treat of tortellini and ravioli, but disaster soon struck as the desired gelateria was closed. After bountiful pouting, I discovered that nothing beats gelato for breakfast. And so I knew as we headed back to the convent/hotel for a quick nights sleep.
Day 9/10: The gelato did not dissapoint as I awoke from a cold nights sleep. Bundled up under sweatshirts, we ate our morning gelato in the face of cold weather and strong winds. Unfortunately for us, it turns out, towns perched atop hills do little little to block the already cold weather. The bus driver must have seen our forlorn faces as he allowed us the ride the bus down to the train station for free.
Hopping a train to Siena, we were more than excited. Some slow days in lazy hill towns had rejuvenated us and made us ready for the excellence of Siena. Siena kept with the theme of the past few cities, and allowed us 2 days full of nothing. Shopping, eating, and gelato filled the agenda as we made Il Campo our second home.
Travelers luck was on our side as we were somehow upgraded from a shared bathroom double into a luxury suite, complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and terrace. There was enough room to run laps in the room! What a great surprise. This simply added to the joy that we experienced in Siena.
It is pointless to separate each day and explain our itineraries, for each was equally empty and enjoyable. Imagine wandering a quaint town, eating gelato that magically seemed to reappear every 2 hours, and enjoying the peacfull bliss of doing nothing. It was vacationing at its finest as we forgot about life and slowed things down to a level never reached by us before. 2 days originally seemed much too long is this uneventful town, but in hindsight, it was nowehere near long enough.
These days were quickly explained and did not recieve the justice they deserved. This can be contributed to both the inexplicable nature of this leg of our trip and the lack of time available for my explanations (as the clock in the right hand corner of my screen ticks below 4 minutes, indicating the amount of internet time left in this dingy internet cafe). Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors and typos, but the Italian keybards are much differen (I cant find an apostrophe), I cant figure how to turn on spell check on this computer, and I have no time to proof read. Oh well. Italy rocks. I got gelato 4 times yesterday. We will catch you all up to speed soon. So much to see!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Spring Break Part 2 (Days 4,5,6)
Ciao Rome! 3 nights were all that was on the agenda for this lovely city and we hate to say goodbye. Fond memories were abundant as we look back on our 3-day Rome visit (Days 4, 5, and 6)
Day 4: Waking up early enough to actually catch our train, we made it to Rome on schedule. Overwhelmed and under-funded, we refueled on euro-menu McDonalds prior to adventuring into the city in hopes of locating our hotel. Wandering into the Santa Marria Magiore Piazza, we spotted our B&B on the corner in an incredible spot of real estate. After walking up 3 flights of stairs and checking in to the office, the manager told us to follow him. Which we did. Down the stairs. Outside. Across the street. Down 4 blocks. Nowhere near the hotel we booked. I was ready to plan some passive-aggressive retaliation fueled by the hearty deceit, but my anger was quickly suppressed upon exploring our new residence. Looking around the room I am now sitting in, it is superb. Clean, spacious room with a huge bed, nice furnishings, wireless internet, and great security. While misled by my internet booking, the deception was a positive one, leaving us with an outstanding hotel across the street from the train station and metro hub.
Then the site-seeing began. Stop one: The Colosseum. Incredible. It gave us goosebumps walking through the chilly halls that contain so much history. We overlooked the arena trying to imagine the unimaginable things that happened in such a place. Blank stares and hundreds of photos later, however, it was time to move on. Next stop: Arch of Constantine.
After seeing the magnificent structure, we set off to explore the Roman Forum. Not knowing much about Roman history, we struggled to locate the exacts sites. After some trial and error, however, we found the entrance and explored the ruins. Mixed with feelings of awe and amazement, we headed up Palantine Hill for a new adventure. Needless to say, we were jealous of the emperors who once resided on that very hill.
Time had gone so quickly that we failed to acknowledge the security guard as he told us it was closing time. After being chased down, however, we left in search of dinner. We had luck this night. We found an authentic Italian restaurant with delicious food for only 15 euros. What could top that? GELATO! The gelato was excellent, especially being enjoyed while strolling past the moonlit Colosseum. And think...we could have been in Cedar Falls, Iowa? I think we made the right choice.
Day 5:
This was the morning in which we got to sleep in. After feeling guilty for missing crucial sightseeing hours in Rome, however, we hopped up and got to work. On todays agenda was Vatican City. Entering through the museum, we explored the different ages of Catholic artwork, working our way towards Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel. By far one of the greatest masterpieces of the world, this chapel could have been admired for days. Unfortunately pictures were not allowed, but Steph and I tried anyway. Our success is yet to be discovered, seeing as how we have yet to analyze our pictures. Keeping our fingers crossed.
From the strenuous museum, we went to St. Peters Square to take a break. Sitting on the steps surrounding the Cathedral, we enjoyed Ringo Cookies and Ritz Crackers and watched the pigeons frolic about, occasionally throwing a cracker or two their way. After a nice rest in the beautiful square, we entered St. Peter's Basilica. The magnificence of such a place is surely not needed. Any building in which Michaelangelo's Pieta can blend in is too lavish.
Always ones to make our families proud, we decided to attend mass in the Basilica. I figure if we're going to ever go to mass, why not go in the greatest cathedral in the world? Singing in Italian in the headquarters of Catholicism was a very humbling and peaceful experience. Receiving communion in such a holy place was beyond words. Donating 19 cents was embarrassing yet well-intentioned.
Our prayers must have fallen on deaf ears, however, seeing as how dinner went. After a long, romantic night stroll across the city, we were starving and looking for good food. We found a place, that appeared to be local, with reasonable prices and edible food. We were quickly ushered in and seated with special English-only menus. I began to worry as I saw them take a roll from a 8-pack plastic bag and put it into a bowl for our gourmet bread. Things only got worse.
I remembered Rick Steves speak of places that don't even have true kitchens, so I intently wandered the vicinities with my eyes, only to find no obvious kitchen and no discernible kitchen staff. Then I saw the worst sight I could have seen: 3 microwaves. Not hidden very well from the public, the microwaves were being used to cook our food. Before telling Steph, she asked me if I heard a microwave ding. I said yes, but before she could respond, our food was on the table. Needless to say, our food was cold in the center, and we had just spent 15 euros on microwave frozen pasta. It was our National Lampoon's European Vacation moment.
Day 6:
We needed to be at a church about 20 minutes away between 7 and 8:30 this morning in order to pick up tickets I had purchased to see the pope. I looked at my alarm clock in the morning, and it was 8:10. Without missing a beat I hopped out of bed, got dressed and ran out the door. Sprinting through Rome, I was lucky to have already gotten a feel for the city and grown accustom to crossing the congested streets. Making it to the church at about 8:20, I found the doors locked and no one in sight. Panicking, I pulled out my Rick Steves book and discovered that the chapel opened at 9. Waiting around, I entered the chapel and got my hands on the tickets in enough time to go get Steph and make it across town to the Vatican City by the Pope's 10:30 appearance and blessing.
Seeing the pope and being a member of the audience was absolutely incredible. While not intimate, the masses surrounding the pope gave him their utmost attention and listened to every word being given. It was beyond words as he came around in his corny popemobile with his outstretched arms. While Pope Benedict and I may not see eye-to-eye on many issues, well most every issue actually, he is still the pope, and it was honor to be in his presence.
The rest of the day and night was spent criss-crossing town seeing everything we had yet to see: from the Trevi fountain to St. Peter in Chains, we finished off our Rome trip by tying any lose knots. We got gelato again, making it at least one gelato for every day, a record I am very proud of. After finishing all the sights and wrapping up our trip, Steph bought a donut bigger than her head and we went up the Spanish Steps to enjoy it overlooking the beautiful city. Whether or not sugar covered dough is the best way to enjoy Rome is undecided, but one thing is for sure. This city was one that we will forever remember. Whether for the microwaved lasagna or the peaceful walks through lamp-flooded streets, Rome truly was a beautiful city that deserved more time.
Day 4: Waking up early enough to actually catch our train, we made it to Rome on schedule. Overwhelmed and under-funded, we refueled on euro-menu McDonalds prior to adventuring into the city in hopes of locating our hotel. Wandering into the Santa Marria Magiore Piazza, we spotted our B&B on the corner in an incredible spot of real estate. After walking up 3 flights of stairs and checking in to the office, the manager told us to follow him. Which we did. Down the stairs. Outside. Across the street. Down 4 blocks. Nowhere near the hotel we booked. I was ready to plan some passive-aggressive retaliation fueled by the hearty deceit, but my anger was quickly suppressed upon exploring our new residence. Looking around the room I am now sitting in, it is superb. Clean, spacious room with a huge bed, nice furnishings, wireless internet, and great security. While misled by my internet booking, the deception was a positive one, leaving us with an outstanding hotel across the street from the train station and metro hub.
Then the site-seeing began. Stop one: The Colosseum. Incredible. It gave us goosebumps walking through the chilly halls that contain so much history. We overlooked the arena trying to imagine the unimaginable things that happened in such a place. Blank stares and hundreds of photos later, however, it was time to move on. Next stop: Arch of Constantine.
After seeing the magnificent structure, we set off to explore the Roman Forum. Not knowing much about Roman history, we struggled to locate the exacts sites. After some trial and error, however, we found the entrance and explored the ruins. Mixed with feelings of awe and amazement, we headed up Palantine Hill for a new adventure. Needless to say, we were jealous of the emperors who once resided on that very hill.
Time had gone so quickly that we failed to acknowledge the security guard as he told us it was closing time. After being chased down, however, we left in search of dinner. We had luck this night. We found an authentic Italian restaurant with delicious food for only 15 euros. What could top that? GELATO! The gelato was excellent, especially being enjoyed while strolling past the moonlit Colosseum. And think...we could have been in Cedar Falls, Iowa? I think we made the right choice.
Day 5:
This was the morning in which we got to sleep in. After feeling guilty for missing crucial sightseeing hours in Rome, however, we hopped up and got to work. On todays agenda was Vatican City. Entering through the museum, we explored the different ages of Catholic artwork, working our way towards Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel. By far one of the greatest masterpieces of the world, this chapel could have been admired for days. Unfortunately pictures were not allowed, but Steph and I tried anyway. Our success is yet to be discovered, seeing as how we have yet to analyze our pictures. Keeping our fingers crossed.
From the strenuous museum, we went to St. Peters Square to take a break. Sitting on the steps surrounding the Cathedral, we enjoyed Ringo Cookies and Ritz Crackers and watched the pigeons frolic about, occasionally throwing a cracker or two their way. After a nice rest in the beautiful square, we entered St. Peter's Basilica. The magnificence of such a place is surely not needed. Any building in which Michaelangelo's Pieta can blend in is too lavish.
Always ones to make our families proud, we decided to attend mass in the Basilica. I figure if we're going to ever go to mass, why not go in the greatest cathedral in the world? Singing in Italian in the headquarters of Catholicism was a very humbling and peaceful experience. Receiving communion in such a holy place was beyond words. Donating 19 cents was embarrassing yet well-intentioned.
Our prayers must have fallen on deaf ears, however, seeing as how dinner went. After a long, romantic night stroll across the city, we were starving and looking for good food. We found a place, that appeared to be local, with reasonable prices and edible food. We were quickly ushered in and seated with special English-only menus. I began to worry as I saw them take a roll from a 8-pack plastic bag and put it into a bowl for our gourmet bread. Things only got worse.
I remembered Rick Steves speak of places that don't even have true kitchens, so I intently wandered the vicinities with my eyes, only to find no obvious kitchen and no discernible kitchen staff. Then I saw the worst sight I could have seen: 3 microwaves. Not hidden very well from the public, the microwaves were being used to cook our food. Before telling Steph, she asked me if I heard a microwave ding. I said yes, but before she could respond, our food was on the table. Needless to say, our food was cold in the center, and we had just spent 15 euros on microwave frozen pasta. It was our National Lampoon's European Vacation moment.
Day 6:
We needed to be at a church about 20 minutes away between 7 and 8:30 this morning in order to pick up tickets I had purchased to see the pope. I looked at my alarm clock in the morning, and it was 8:10. Without missing a beat I hopped out of bed, got dressed and ran out the door. Sprinting through Rome, I was lucky to have already gotten a feel for the city and grown accustom to crossing the congested streets. Making it to the church at about 8:20, I found the doors locked and no one in sight. Panicking, I pulled out my Rick Steves book and discovered that the chapel opened at 9. Waiting around, I entered the chapel and got my hands on the tickets in enough time to go get Steph and make it across town to the Vatican City by the Pope's 10:30 appearance and blessing.
Seeing the pope and being a member of the audience was absolutely incredible. While not intimate, the masses surrounding the pope gave him their utmost attention and listened to every word being given. It was beyond words as he came around in his corny popemobile with his outstretched arms. While Pope Benedict and I may not see eye-to-eye on many issues, well most every issue actually, he is still the pope, and it was honor to be in his presence.
The rest of the day and night was spent criss-crossing town seeing everything we had yet to see: from the Trevi fountain to St. Peter in Chains, we finished off our Rome trip by tying any lose knots. We got gelato again, making it at least one gelato for every day, a record I am very proud of. After finishing all the sights and wrapping up our trip, Steph bought a donut bigger than her head and we went up the Spanish Steps to enjoy it overlooking the beautiful city. Whether or not sugar covered dough is the best way to enjoy Rome is undecided, but one thing is for sure. This city was one that we will forever remember. Whether for the microwaved lasagna or the peaceful walks through lamp-flooded streets, Rome truly was a beautiful city that deserved more time.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Spring Break Part 1 (Days 1,2,3)
I am currently pressing every key as gently as possible, crammed in a room not much bigger than the 4 bunk-beds it encompasses, trying not to wake my sleeping dorm-mates as Steph studiously surveys Rick Steves for tomorrow's adventures. Tropical hard candy and lemon cookies are adding the fuel to our late-night update, but let's back up a few days.
Day 1:
Guess what Tim? We made it to the train on time! We were actually so early after eating our morning pastries (courtesy of our trusty Tesco) that we chased down an even earlier train...just because we could! Barring some minor difficulties we made it to London Stansted Airport with little trouble. The journey over to Italy, however, was an annoyingly in-your-face barrage of Ryanair employees as they constantly awoke you from your already bad sleep to sell you perfume. Crammed seats and little organization only made matters worse, but for 50 bucks each, we weren't complaining.
Our first night in Italy was questionable at best. We arranged for the hostel to pick us up from the airport, only to be presented with a shuttle 40 minutes late. Upon joining the local Italian driver in his 4-seat Lancia, he started cussing realizing he lost his validation ticket. Quick on my feet, I found it for him and saved him a 300 euro fine. Needless to say, the ride was very quick and friendly (besides a pit stop to pick up his girlfriend).
Our first hostel experience was...interesting. A cool place that was truly Italian, the hostel lacked the privileged charm of spic-and-span double rooms. The stay would have been rather enjoyable had it not been for our German truck-driver room mate. His snoring put Dad (5 years ago mind you) to shame. It nearly shook the entire floor. Gotta thank Steph for being prepared with earplugs though.
Day 2:
We woke up to the smell of fresh breakfast. When I say breakfast, though, I mean packaged croissants and when I say woke up to the smell, I mean to our alarms. But anyways, we then needed to get across the country to Naples, Italy. I would tell you all about the countless adventures encountered during this overly-long leg of the trip, but it would all seem too redundant. Late trains, bus connections, language barriers, and 2 rookie travelers. Same old, same old.
Naples, however, was nicer than Bari. That is not necessarily a compliment though, seeing as how Bari was absolute rubbish. Naples seems to be the New York of Italy, having over 2 million residents and the title of most highly concentrated city in Italy. We were a little uneasy walking through this urban metropolis, and things did not impprove as we reached our hostel. In an alley down an unlabeled street, we had to enter an apartment complex and walk to the 6th floor (over uneven and slanted stairs to boot). I think we both nearly lost it when we entered the house. It was literally a mans home, with a few guest rooms. I wanted to run. In hindsight, however, I couldn't have been more wrong. Back to that later.
Naples underwhelmed (Stephanie the sisters' word, not mine) and failed to resonate with either of us. Maybe it was the lack of big-name attractions or our lack of enthusiasm, but the city seemed too big and too dirty. Although, it did have character. The birthplace of pizza was obviously abound in local pizzeria's, and we went to a local favorite with lines around the block. It was better pizza than the night before, but it was no Zeno's, Peppino's, or Pagliais. Is that blasphemy to say about the city where pizza was created? Possibly I suppose. But the pizza here is different. It is wafer thin, cooked in wood-burning ovens, and has minimal cheese. Interesting and tasty, but largely unsatisfying in my opinion. Great experience though eating at the same table as 6 local Italians. Our first gelato trip helped make up for the unsatisfying pizza.
Day 3:
Our troubles with connections had eliminated a few hours out of our sight-seeing time and had unfortunately demanded we cut out a place from our itinerary. Pompeii, unfortunately, was the place that had to go. We couldn't be bummed for long, however, walking onto the shore of the tropical paradise island Capri. No plans and superb weather made the day perfect. It was one of the days that need not be recorded through words, for it would fail to express the beauty and joy experienced. The moments of eating way too much gelato on the top of a mountain overlooking a gorgeous city, mountains, and the vast openness of water are ones that burn into your heart and mind but mean nothing to those not there. Needless to say, it was amazing. Randy and Jean would love it...it was a city waiting for a cruise ship.
We cut the day early and headed to Sorrento. A questionable choice that was only partially successful, the city was a mixture of gross tourism and unique Italy. Souvenir and treat hunting, however, made the city of Lemons a real treat. Hence why we are devouring Orange and Lemon candies and Lemon cookies. Who cares about eating healthy anyways. The healthiest thing I've ate this trip has been...peanut laced chocolate? Oh the joys of being a kid. No wait! I had eggplant! That takes us to a few hours ago.
We just finished eating a dinner made by our fabulous hostel host, Giovanni. The hostel is called Giovanni's Home, and that is truly what it is. We are guests in his quaint apartment and it felt pretty odd at first. But now it feels like we are all one big happy family...which I think is what he wants in a way. He just cooked us a delicious Italian pasta feast made of noodles, cheese, sauce, and unfortunately, eggplant. Guess where I sat? Right next to him. Do you think Italians like when you pick around their food? They don't. I suffered through eggplant before Steph, being the amazing girlfriend she is, pulled a sly move and switched our plates while he wasn't looking. Oddly, her plate was full of hot gooey pasta and had no eggplant.
After dinner we had a group sing-along where we learned some classic Italian songs. They will be on YouTube. The night was absolutely incredible. We couldn't have picked a better hostel. The most gracious host we have ever had, Giovanni provided us with an unforgettable experience in a highly forgettable city (in my opinion anyways).
I apologize if this post is long and all over the place. We just have wireless right now and wanted to update prior to continuing to Rome. It's been a long day and my writing seems to be the current victim of sleep depression. We'll update as soon as possible, but internet can often be hard to come by on a budget.
Oh yeah, did I mention we haven't changed our clothes since leaving England? Not even for sleep? That makes it something like almost 72 hours. And we don't plan to until bed time tomorrow in Rome. I'm not sure if I'm embarrassed or proud...both maybe?
Day 1:
Guess what Tim? We made it to the train on time! We were actually so early after eating our morning pastries (courtesy of our trusty Tesco) that we chased down an even earlier train...just because we could! Barring some minor difficulties we made it to London Stansted Airport with little trouble. The journey over to Italy, however, was an annoyingly in-your-face barrage of Ryanair employees as they constantly awoke you from your already bad sleep to sell you perfume. Crammed seats and little organization only made matters worse, but for 50 bucks each, we weren't complaining.
Our first night in Italy was questionable at best. We arranged for the hostel to pick us up from the airport, only to be presented with a shuttle 40 minutes late. Upon joining the local Italian driver in his 4-seat Lancia, he started cussing realizing he lost his validation ticket. Quick on my feet, I found it for him and saved him a 300 euro fine. Needless to say, the ride was very quick and friendly (besides a pit stop to pick up his girlfriend).
Our first hostel experience was...interesting. A cool place that was truly Italian, the hostel lacked the privileged charm of spic-and-span double rooms. The stay would have been rather enjoyable had it not been for our German truck-driver room mate. His snoring put Dad (5 years ago mind you) to shame. It nearly shook the entire floor. Gotta thank Steph for being prepared with earplugs though.
Day 2:
We woke up to the smell of fresh breakfast. When I say breakfast, though, I mean packaged croissants and when I say woke up to the smell, I mean to our alarms. But anyways, we then needed to get across the country to Naples, Italy. I would tell you all about the countless adventures encountered during this overly-long leg of the trip, but it would all seem too redundant. Late trains, bus connections, language barriers, and 2 rookie travelers. Same old, same old.
Naples, however, was nicer than Bari. That is not necessarily a compliment though, seeing as how Bari was absolute rubbish. Naples seems to be the New York of Italy, having over 2 million residents and the title of most highly concentrated city in Italy. We were a little uneasy walking through this urban metropolis, and things did not impprove as we reached our hostel. In an alley down an unlabeled street, we had to enter an apartment complex and walk to the 6th floor (over uneven and slanted stairs to boot). I think we both nearly lost it when we entered the house. It was literally a mans home, with a few guest rooms. I wanted to run. In hindsight, however, I couldn't have been more wrong. Back to that later.
Naples underwhelmed (Stephanie the sisters' word, not mine) and failed to resonate with either of us. Maybe it was the lack of big-name attractions or our lack of enthusiasm, but the city seemed too big and too dirty. Although, it did have character. The birthplace of pizza was obviously abound in local pizzeria's, and we went to a local favorite with lines around the block. It was better pizza than the night before, but it was no Zeno's, Peppino's, or Pagliais. Is that blasphemy to say about the city where pizza was created? Possibly I suppose. But the pizza here is different. It is wafer thin, cooked in wood-burning ovens, and has minimal cheese. Interesting and tasty, but largely unsatisfying in my opinion. Great experience though eating at the same table as 6 local Italians. Our first gelato trip helped make up for the unsatisfying pizza.
Day 3:
Our troubles with connections had eliminated a few hours out of our sight-seeing time and had unfortunately demanded we cut out a place from our itinerary. Pompeii, unfortunately, was the place that had to go. We couldn't be bummed for long, however, walking onto the shore of the tropical paradise island Capri. No plans and superb weather made the day perfect. It was one of the days that need not be recorded through words, for it would fail to express the beauty and joy experienced. The moments of eating way too much gelato on the top of a mountain overlooking a gorgeous city, mountains, and the vast openness of water are ones that burn into your heart and mind but mean nothing to those not there. Needless to say, it was amazing. Randy and Jean would love it...it was a city waiting for a cruise ship.
We cut the day early and headed to Sorrento. A questionable choice that was only partially successful, the city was a mixture of gross tourism and unique Italy. Souvenir and treat hunting, however, made the city of Lemons a real treat. Hence why we are devouring Orange and Lemon candies and Lemon cookies. Who cares about eating healthy anyways. The healthiest thing I've ate this trip has been...peanut laced chocolate? Oh the joys of being a kid. No wait! I had eggplant! That takes us to a few hours ago.
We just finished eating a dinner made by our fabulous hostel host, Giovanni. The hostel is called Giovanni's Home, and that is truly what it is. We are guests in his quaint apartment and it felt pretty odd at first. But now it feels like we are all one big happy family...which I think is what he wants in a way. He just cooked us a delicious Italian pasta feast made of noodles, cheese, sauce, and unfortunately, eggplant. Guess where I sat? Right next to him. Do you think Italians like when you pick around their food? They don't. I suffered through eggplant before Steph, being the amazing girlfriend she is, pulled a sly move and switched our plates while he wasn't looking. Oddly, her plate was full of hot gooey pasta and had no eggplant.
After dinner we had a group sing-along where we learned some classic Italian songs. They will be on YouTube. The night was absolutely incredible. We couldn't have picked a better hostel. The most gracious host we have ever had, Giovanni provided us with an unforgettable experience in a highly forgettable city (in my opinion anyways).
I apologize if this post is long and all over the place. We just have wireless right now and wanted to update prior to continuing to Rome. It's been a long day and my writing seems to be the current victim of sleep depression. We'll update as soon as possible, but internet can often be hard to come by on a budget.
Oh yeah, did I mention we haven't changed our clothes since leaving England? Not even for sleep? That makes it something like almost 72 hours. And we don't plan to until bed time tomorrow in Rome. I'm not sure if I'm embarrassed or proud...both maybe?
Thursday, March 18, 2010
SPRING BREAK!
Well folks, spring break starts tomorrow for us here in England. That means that posts may be limited, photos sparse, and videos non-existent. But depending on our travels, maybe we will be able to stay connected. Who knows. For those of you that are curious, here is our basic outline:
Day 1: Fly form London to Bari, Italy
Day 2: Naples/Pompeii
Day 3: Capri/Sorrento
Day 4: Rome
Day 5: Rome
Day 6: Rome
Day 7: Orvieto/Civita
Day 8: Assisi/Cortona
Day 9: Siena
Day 10: Siena
Day 11: Volterra
Day 12: San Gimignano
Day 13: Florence
Day 14: Florence/Fiesole
Day 15: Cinque Terre (swing by Pisa on the way)
Day 16: Cinque Terre
Day 17: Cinque Terre
Day 18: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 19: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 20: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 21: Venice
Day 22: Venice
Day 23: Venice before flying home.
So as you can tell, we went against the words of advice given by both families to just take it easy and relax. We're going to see everything we can. Hopefully relaxation fits into the schedule, but we want to see as much as we can see. We can rest when we're old.
Anyways, wish us luck! Hopefully we won't miss too many trains or pull a Becky and break our leg.
Day 1: Fly form London to Bari, Italy
Day 2: Naples/Pompeii
Day 3: Capri/Sorrento
Day 4: Rome
Day 5: Rome
Day 6: Rome
Day 7: Orvieto/Civita
Day 8: Assisi/Cortona
Day 9: Siena
Day 10: Siena
Day 11: Volterra
Day 12: San Gimignano
Day 13: Florence
Day 14: Florence/Fiesole
Day 15: Cinque Terre (swing by Pisa on the way)
Day 16: Cinque Terre
Day 17: Cinque Terre
Day 18: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 19: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 20: Verona (Lake Como)
Day 21: Venice
Day 22: Venice
Day 23: Venice before flying home.
So as you can tell, we went against the words of advice given by both families to just take it easy and relax. We're going to see everything we can. Hopefully relaxation fits into the schedule, but we want to see as much as we can see. We can rest when we're old.
Anyways, wish us luck! Hopefully we won't miss too many trains or pull a Becky and break our leg.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
LONDON
Guess where we went this weekend? In case you missed the title, we went to the sprawling city of London. 2 days of pure craziness left us with an overwhelming impression of a city that is best described as a combination of New York City and Washington DC.
Sunday morning blessed us with travelers luck. After misreading the bus schedule and missing our bus, we caught one that was to arrive at the train station 15 minutes after our scheduled train, meaning we would have to wait an hour for the next train. Our luck kicked in, however, and our bus was 14 minutes early. Considering trains here leave on time, we sprinted to the train only to see the doors shut in preparation for departure. Thankfully for us, an equally late girl was a few steps in front of us and twice as crazy. She pounded on the glass demanding to be let in as she screamed at the train attendants. As they opened the door for her, we sheepishly slipped in and found 2 unreserved seats (a practice that has saved us a lot of money but caused us to sit on the floor many times).
Arriving in London, the first stop was the British Library. We only explored two rooms full of literary treasures and saw the Magna Carta, Hamlet, Hayden's Messiah, Various Beethoven compositions, and most importantly, original Beatles lyrics to Help, Hard Days Night, Ticket to Ride, and I Want To Hold Your Hand among others. Next stop was our lovely hotel. For 60 pounds a night, it was a steal. Great location, quiet room, comfy bed, and hot breakfast makes for a good stay.
Sticking par to course, we went into the British Museum, admired the magnificent entrance hall, saw the Rosetta Stone, and left. Next stop was an hour-long trek across town to Hyde Park, the Central Park of London. Considering it was Sunday, we were going to see the Speakers corner. Imagine it now; a space dedicated once a week to crazy people professing their thoughts, however ludicrous. We jumped from group to group listening to the importance of judgement day, the lie that is the Muslim faith, the lack of help from the British in wars, and how both black and white people should kill each other off. Crowds enjoyed jumping in with interjections and screaming arguments constantly ensued.
Overwhelmed with joy after experiencing political and religious angst at it's finest, we took the tube across town to the beautiful St. Pauls. Deciding not to enter due to admission price, we set off across the Millennium Bridge (the one that collapses in one of the Harry Potter movies) to the Tate Modern art museum. Enjoying works by all of my favorite artists, time flew and the museum closed before we were done. During our exploration, however, we managed to run into a local Hull friend and his girlfriend.
All this work made us hungry. We took the tube back to our hotel to find cheap food around the neighborhood. Unfortunately, however, London doesn't believe in cheap food. Our stomachs demanded food, however, and we settled with an overpriced cafe that charged 2 pounds per water and 8 pounds for a burger sans fries. Man. Oh well. It was a pretty underwhelming 24 pound meal but it got the job done. 5 pounds for Baskin Robbins, however, was well worth it. Is there better ice cream than Baskin Robbins Rainbow Sherbet? No. Of course not.
The only thing left on our itinerary was sleep. Which we did. Very well.
The morning provided beans, eggs, cereal, bacon, and OJ for some nice energy for our action-packed day 2. Stop 1: Newspaper stand for a bottle of water and candy bars #3 and #4 for the weekend. The tube took us to Buckingham Palace despite our ignorance in missing the changing of the guards. Steph demanded for me to get her to live in the palace, and I politely refused.
We bought an all-day tube pass and I decided I wanted to get some use out of it. So I decided to drag Steph up to Abbey Road. Walking across the legendary cross-walk, dodging cars and the occasional cyclist, we got the cliche photo-op. Is it sad if of all the amazing things we saw in this historic city, standing in the same place as John Lennon was the most awe-inspiring?
After swinging by legendary Abbey Road studios, we headed back to tube to take over to Trafalgar square. After exploring the amazing square, we headed to the National Gallery. Despite countless rooms being closed by union action, we saw centuries worth of remarkable artists from Michaelangelo to Rembrant to Van Gogh. A full day wouldn't have been enough to see everything, and the setting sun demanded our premature departure. We then walked down Whitehall road, past the Ministry of Defense and the street upon which prime minister Gordon Brown lives.
This street eventually led us to the Westminster Abbey and the House of Parliament (including Big Ben). After many photos, we passed through countless security check points to enter the House of Commons. Sitting in a balcony, separated by 2 inches of bullet-proof glass, as members of the House of Commons debated the length in which cleared suspects' DNA should be held on state records was amazing. The dialogue was monotonously political, but the experience was excitingly fresh and one-of -a-kind.
We then took the tube back across town to grab an early dinner where Steph tried fish n chips. She gave a thumbs up review before we grabbed Baskin Robbins for the second night in a row. This decision would prove costly, however, as we missed the early train back to Hull by 2 minutes. Treating ourselves to 4 more candy bars, we waited an hour for the next train home. This ride contained a 24 minute layover in Doncaster, and our luck meant that the train took 24 minutes too long to get in. The train was gone and we began to decide whether we should A. Spend the night at a local hotel (if we could find any) B. Spend the night in the train station waiting room, or C. Spend the night riding the train (using our unlimited rail passes) all over the country. We decided on option C before discovering that there was one last connection to Hull 30 minutes later. Hopping the train, we made it home in time to catch the final bus home. For an hour at least, luck was back on our side.
I feel like there is so much I forgot or left out, but oh well. I will spare you all. But Manchester United hammered AC Milan last night 4-0 and are into the final 8 for Champions League. They're gonna win it all. I guarantee it.
Sunday morning blessed us with travelers luck. After misreading the bus schedule and missing our bus, we caught one that was to arrive at the train station 15 minutes after our scheduled train, meaning we would have to wait an hour for the next train. Our luck kicked in, however, and our bus was 14 minutes early. Considering trains here leave on time, we sprinted to the train only to see the doors shut in preparation for departure. Thankfully for us, an equally late girl was a few steps in front of us and twice as crazy. She pounded on the glass demanding to be let in as she screamed at the train attendants. As they opened the door for her, we sheepishly slipped in and found 2 unreserved seats (a practice that has saved us a lot of money but caused us to sit on the floor many times).
Arriving in London, the first stop was the British Library. We only explored two rooms full of literary treasures and saw the Magna Carta, Hamlet, Hayden's Messiah, Various Beethoven compositions, and most importantly, original Beatles lyrics to Help, Hard Days Night, Ticket to Ride, and I Want To Hold Your Hand among others. Next stop was our lovely hotel. For 60 pounds a night, it was a steal. Great location, quiet room, comfy bed, and hot breakfast makes for a good stay.
Sticking par to course, we went into the British Museum, admired the magnificent entrance hall, saw the Rosetta Stone, and left. Next stop was an hour-long trek across town to Hyde Park, the Central Park of London. Considering it was Sunday, we were going to see the Speakers corner. Imagine it now; a space dedicated once a week to crazy people professing their thoughts, however ludicrous. We jumped from group to group listening to the importance of judgement day, the lie that is the Muslim faith, the lack of help from the British in wars, and how both black and white people should kill each other off. Crowds enjoyed jumping in with interjections and screaming arguments constantly ensued.
Overwhelmed with joy after experiencing political and religious angst at it's finest, we took the tube across town to the beautiful St. Pauls. Deciding not to enter due to admission price, we set off across the Millennium Bridge (the one that collapses in one of the Harry Potter movies) to the Tate Modern art museum. Enjoying works by all of my favorite artists, time flew and the museum closed before we were done. During our exploration, however, we managed to run into a local Hull friend and his girlfriend.
All this work made us hungry. We took the tube back to our hotel to find cheap food around the neighborhood. Unfortunately, however, London doesn't believe in cheap food. Our stomachs demanded food, however, and we settled with an overpriced cafe that charged 2 pounds per water and 8 pounds for a burger sans fries. Man. Oh well. It was a pretty underwhelming 24 pound meal but it got the job done. 5 pounds for Baskin Robbins, however, was well worth it. Is there better ice cream than Baskin Robbins Rainbow Sherbet? No. Of course not.
The only thing left on our itinerary was sleep. Which we did. Very well.
The morning provided beans, eggs, cereal, bacon, and OJ for some nice energy for our action-packed day 2. Stop 1: Newspaper stand for a bottle of water and candy bars #3 and #4 for the weekend. The tube took us to Buckingham Palace despite our ignorance in missing the changing of the guards. Steph demanded for me to get her to live in the palace, and I politely refused.
We bought an all-day tube pass and I decided I wanted to get some use out of it. So I decided to drag Steph up to Abbey Road. Walking across the legendary cross-walk, dodging cars and the occasional cyclist, we got the cliche photo-op. Is it sad if of all the amazing things we saw in this historic city, standing in the same place as John Lennon was the most awe-inspiring?
After swinging by legendary Abbey Road studios, we headed back to tube to take over to Trafalgar square. After exploring the amazing square, we headed to the National Gallery. Despite countless rooms being closed by union action, we saw centuries worth of remarkable artists from Michaelangelo to Rembrant to Van Gogh. A full day wouldn't have been enough to see everything, and the setting sun demanded our premature departure. We then walked down Whitehall road, past the Ministry of Defense and the street upon which prime minister Gordon Brown lives.
This street eventually led us to the Westminster Abbey and the House of Parliament (including Big Ben). After many photos, we passed through countless security check points to enter the House of Commons. Sitting in a balcony, separated by 2 inches of bullet-proof glass, as members of the House of Commons debated the length in which cleared suspects' DNA should be held on state records was amazing. The dialogue was monotonously political, but the experience was excitingly fresh and one-of -a-kind.
We then took the tube back across town to grab an early dinner where Steph tried fish n chips. She gave a thumbs up review before we grabbed Baskin Robbins for the second night in a row. This decision would prove costly, however, as we missed the early train back to Hull by 2 minutes. Treating ourselves to 4 more candy bars, we waited an hour for the next train home. This ride contained a 24 minute layover in Doncaster, and our luck meant that the train took 24 minutes too long to get in. The train was gone and we began to decide whether we should A. Spend the night at a local hotel (if we could find any) B. Spend the night in the train station waiting room, or C. Spend the night riding the train (using our unlimited rail passes) all over the country. We decided on option C before discovering that there was one last connection to Hull 30 minutes later. Hopping the train, we made it home in time to catch the final bus home. For an hour at least, luck was back on our side.
I feel like there is so much I forgot or left out, but oh well. I will spare you all. But Manchester United hammered AC Milan last night 4-0 and are into the final 8 for Champions League. They're gonna win it all. I guarantee it.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
ugh
Steph just asked politely...to no avail. 2 stupid room mates (not Immanuel...cause he's too considerate) and 3 drunk random guys. This is obnoxious. I want a house. Not a dorm. Not a shared flat. A house. With quiet. I can handle street noise. I can't handle drunken idiots.
are you kidding me?
It is 2:52 am here right now. Neither Steph nor I can even come close to sleeping thanks to our drunken room mates (+ friends) going crazy downstairs. Last night the party went until 2 but tonight there is no end in sight considering they just got back from the bars. I have no clue who's down there but this is so obnoxious. I just want to sleep. But I won't say anything...you know me. Im passive-aggressive. Last night, I just waited until the loudest one (who conveniently has a room downstairs next to the kitchen) was asleep and went down and looked for a late-night snack...being extra loud. It must've worked considering they woke up and came out to go to the bathroom. Is that being mean? Anti-productive? Being one of them? Oh well I suppose. It's 2:57. And they're yelling. Anything sounds justified right about now for those drunken idiots.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Roon-Dog
It was an amazing birthday weekend that was neither a weekend nor my birthday. But the Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday trip to Manchester was quite a pleasant surprise. After grudgingly waking up early Monday morning, I was treated to the sight of my new guitar! A very nice purchase (by my beautiful girlfriend), it left me yearning to keep playing as we walked to the bus that we inevitably missed. Not missing a beat, we caught a later bus and made it to our train. Once in Manchester, we entered our temporary residence: A questionable yet cool 1940's-esque building (and when I say 1940, I don't mean it was decorated as such, but rather that it was most likely from those years) that was located across the street from the train station. The room was cramp and smelt of stale-smoke but was a bargain at only 50 USD a night.
Having no plan, we simply explored the city for two days. We found some excellent shopping and treated ourselves to two Manchester United jerseys in preparation for the following night's game. We saved money eating, finding a delicious pub with great deals, and spent money frivolously (did I mention we had dessert? And rode a 20 story ferris wheel?). All of our mindless wandering, however fun it was, did not compare to the grand finale of the trip though: the Manchester United game.
Being on the other side of Manchester, we needed to take a train to the stadium. Leaving in plenty of time to catch the first train, we showed our trusty rail-passes to the guards as we walked to the Piccadilly to Trafford train. To our surprise, the passes didn't cover this journey. We then went to the ticket sales to purchase them, only to find out our American, 'chip'-less credit card didn't work. Plowing through the crowds we sprinted to the ATM to get cash out, only to find out that it was broken. With the assistance of moving sidewalks, we made record time to the other side of the station and back, money in hand. We purchased our tickets and began to walk through again, only to realize we were only handed one. After running back to grab mine, we sprinted through the maze of platforms to find ours. As we looked in confusion at the bare platform, below the sign labeled "18:58 to Manchester Utd," we were pointed in the proper direction by a chuckling local. Do you think we made the train? If watching it close the doors and take off as you run after it counts, then yes.
As we waited for the next train we were entertained by a happy elderly man that couldn't wait to talk Manchester soccer. After 10 minutes of enduring a conversation with an undistinguishable English accent, we caught a train that worked 50 minutes prior to kickoff. Hoping it would be smooth sailing, we went to the ticket office to pick up our tickets. Par for the course it seems, but they were selling tickets for important games that night and the line was wrapped around the outside of the building. We got our tickets 10 minutes prior to kickoff. We sat in our seats 1 minute prior. Smooth sailing from there.
The game was incredible. Getting to watch a game in real life, in that situation, was beyond words. Everything was real; it wasn't skewed by the pixelated fuzz of pub TVs. You could watch the goalie try to stay warm as the team attacked. You could watch every run off the ball. You could see the true talent of the best team in English soccer. And you noticed that Paul Scholes' still got it.
The seats were incredible. They couldn't have been better. We were even protected from the snow by the overhanging roof! To top it all off, we won 3-0, 2 of the goals being scored by Roon-dog (Steph's favorite). And we each got scarves, with Steph getting the fashionable green and yellow protest scarf.
I know I rave about how amazing everything is with each new adventure, but this night and this game were the best I've had in England and I'm sure Steph would say the same. While the town of Manchester is nothing compared to Keswick, the experience of attending a premier league soccer match in England at Old Trafford was indescribable. Beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
And then we got the treat of waking up at 5 am to catch the 6 am train to Hull in order to catch the bus to our flat in order to make it to our 9:15 class. A welcome surprise by Immauel, however, made up for the dreadful morning. He and Rory, a common friend, had tried to get tickets to the Hull City vs. Arsenal game and succeeded...and bought Steph and I each a ticket! See? We're making friends!
But for now...naptime.
Oh yeah...if anyone cares to see the goals from the game, here is a link:
http://www.tvgolo.com/futebol.php?subaction=showfull&id=1266961483&archive=&start_from=&ucat=40&
Having no plan, we simply explored the city for two days. We found some excellent shopping and treated ourselves to two Manchester United jerseys in preparation for the following night's game. We saved money eating, finding a delicious pub with great deals, and spent money frivolously (did I mention we had dessert? And rode a 20 story ferris wheel?). All of our mindless wandering, however fun it was, did not compare to the grand finale of the trip though: the Manchester United game.
Being on the other side of Manchester, we needed to take a train to the stadium. Leaving in plenty of time to catch the first train, we showed our trusty rail-passes to the guards as we walked to the Piccadilly to Trafford train. To our surprise, the passes didn't cover this journey. We then went to the ticket sales to purchase them, only to find out our American, 'chip'-less credit card didn't work. Plowing through the crowds we sprinted to the ATM to get cash out, only to find out that it was broken. With the assistance of moving sidewalks, we made record time to the other side of the station and back, money in hand. We purchased our tickets and began to walk through again, only to realize we were only handed one. After running back to grab mine, we sprinted through the maze of platforms to find ours. As we looked in confusion at the bare platform, below the sign labeled "18:58 to Manchester Utd," we were pointed in the proper direction by a chuckling local. Do you think we made the train? If watching it close the doors and take off as you run after it counts, then yes.
As we waited for the next train we were entertained by a happy elderly man that couldn't wait to talk Manchester soccer. After 10 minutes of enduring a conversation with an undistinguishable English accent, we caught a train that worked 50 minutes prior to kickoff. Hoping it would be smooth sailing, we went to the ticket office to pick up our tickets. Par for the course it seems, but they were selling tickets for important games that night and the line was wrapped around the outside of the building. We got our tickets 10 minutes prior to kickoff. We sat in our seats 1 minute prior. Smooth sailing from there.
The game was incredible. Getting to watch a game in real life, in that situation, was beyond words. Everything was real; it wasn't skewed by the pixelated fuzz of pub TVs. You could watch the goalie try to stay warm as the team attacked. You could watch every run off the ball. You could see the true talent of the best team in English soccer. And you noticed that Paul Scholes' still got it.
The seats were incredible. They couldn't have been better. We were even protected from the snow by the overhanging roof! To top it all off, we won 3-0, 2 of the goals being scored by Roon-dog (Steph's favorite). And we each got scarves, with Steph getting the fashionable green and yellow protest scarf.
I know I rave about how amazing everything is with each new adventure, but this night and this game were the best I've had in England and I'm sure Steph would say the same. While the town of Manchester is nothing compared to Keswick, the experience of attending a premier league soccer match in England at Old Trafford was indescribable. Beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
And then we got the treat of waking up at 5 am to catch the 6 am train to Hull in order to catch the bus to our flat in order to make it to our 9:15 class. A welcome surprise by Immauel, however, made up for the dreadful morning. He and Rory, a common friend, had tried to get tickets to the Hull City vs. Arsenal game and succeeded...and bought Steph and I each a ticket! See? We're making friends!
But for now...naptime.
Oh yeah...if anyone cares to see the goals from the game, here is a link:
http://www.tvgolo.com/futebol.php?subaction=showfull&id=1266961483&archive=&start_from=&ucat=40&
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
KEZ-ick
This past weekend was the stage for our first TRUE trip outside of Hull. Being Valentines Day weekend, I decided that it would be best to surprise Steph with a trip to Keswick, a small town of about 5,000 in the heart of the Lake Region of England. What a good boyfriend right? But anyways, the trip was loads of fun and I think Steph really had a good time.
Leaving on Saturday, trains were over-crowded and we were often left standing with our luggage due to our lack of seat reservations. Numerous transfers and surprisingly smooth connections allowed us to arrive in Keswick on time. We checked into our beautiful bed and breakfast and explored the town. After grabbing a quick scone and muffin we set off on a 7 mile walk to the Castlerigg stone circle (see Flickr and YouTube). The second most famous stone circle in England, behind Stonehedge, Castlerigg provided a beautiful site as the sun set over the surrounding mountains. Steph's fears quickly set in and required us to head back home before night fell.
Dinner was at a delicious and over-priced Italian restaurant. Has anyone ever had sticky toffee pudding? I tried it there for dessert and instantly became addicted (I got it again the following night). Not sure if it is a universal dessert though. Anyways, we then went to see Up in the Air at the local theater before crashing into bed.
The next morning we woke up early for breakfast and to start a hike. Despite our lack of hiking gear (Vans and jeans), which would seem odd in a town full of hiking shops, we set off on a lofty trek up the Cat Bells mountain ridge. The trail was steep and long, but easily doable without the bells and whistles of the true nature-lovers. This didn't eliminate the confused looks received by fellow hikers though. The weather was constantly battling our views, with the fog receding for 15 minutes before quickly returning. The hike was long and tiring, but well worth the sights. An absolute must for any hikers. It also helped having numerous dogs joyfully sprinting up the trail every 5 minutes.
We skipped lunch in lieu of a nap before heading to a nice valentines day meal. After enjoying a second serving of toffee pudding, we went to the Theater by the Lake to watch a play titled the Hot Dots. Impressive, but not spectacular. Definitely worth the free admission though.
Unfortunately the next morning meant it was time to head home from our 2-day paradise. The trains home were reminiscent of American flights; mislabeled, over-crowded, and delayed. After a weekend in the mountainous resort of Keswick, however, it didn't seem to matter. And in hindsight, these simple complications pale in comparison to Becky's Olympic trip thus far. We both feel bad that we took all of the traveling luck.
Its hard not to be lucky, though, when visiting a town like Keswick. If you can remember anything I said about York, amplify it twofold for Keswick. This town is quite possibly the favorite place I have ever been. It has a cute city, endless nature, and a beautiful lake with countless ducks! Something tells me this wasn't the last time we would visit Keswick. Next time we'll have to take Mia, Kia, Linus, and Allie (ie or y?) seeing as how this is an English mecca for dog-toting families.
Leaving on Saturday, trains were over-crowded and we were often left standing with our luggage due to our lack of seat reservations. Numerous transfers and surprisingly smooth connections allowed us to arrive in Keswick on time. We checked into our beautiful bed and breakfast and explored the town. After grabbing a quick scone and muffin we set off on a 7 mile walk to the Castlerigg stone circle (see Flickr and YouTube). The second most famous stone circle in England, behind Stonehedge, Castlerigg provided a beautiful site as the sun set over the surrounding mountains. Steph's fears quickly set in and required us to head back home before night fell.
Dinner was at a delicious and over-priced Italian restaurant. Has anyone ever had sticky toffee pudding? I tried it there for dessert and instantly became addicted (I got it again the following night). Not sure if it is a universal dessert though. Anyways, we then went to see Up in the Air at the local theater before crashing into bed.
The next morning we woke up early for breakfast and to start a hike. Despite our lack of hiking gear (Vans and jeans), which would seem odd in a town full of hiking shops, we set off on a lofty trek up the Cat Bells mountain ridge. The trail was steep and long, but easily doable without the bells and whistles of the true nature-lovers. This didn't eliminate the confused looks received by fellow hikers though. The weather was constantly battling our views, with the fog receding for 15 minutes before quickly returning. The hike was long and tiring, but well worth the sights. An absolute must for any hikers. It also helped having numerous dogs joyfully sprinting up the trail every 5 minutes.
We skipped lunch in lieu of a nap before heading to a nice valentines day meal. After enjoying a second serving of toffee pudding, we went to the Theater by the Lake to watch a play titled the Hot Dots. Impressive, but not spectacular. Definitely worth the free admission though.
Unfortunately the next morning meant it was time to head home from our 2-day paradise. The trains home were reminiscent of American flights; mislabeled, over-crowded, and delayed. After a weekend in the mountainous resort of Keswick, however, it didn't seem to matter. And in hindsight, these simple complications pale in comparison to Becky's Olympic trip thus far. We both feel bad that we took all of the traveling luck.
Its hard not to be lucky, though, when visiting a town like Keswick. If you can remember anything I said about York, amplify it twofold for Keswick. This town is quite possibly the favorite place I have ever been. It has a cute city, endless nature, and a beautiful lake with countless ducks! Something tells me this wasn't the last time we would visit Keswick. Next time we'll have to take Mia, Kia, Linus, and Allie (ie or y?) seeing as how this is an English mecca for dog-toting families.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Their Passion
As Steven Gerrard lined up for a free kick 28 yards from the goal in the 92nd minute of the match, the Hull Students Union Asylum Bar sat on the edge of their seat. The Liverpool captain eyed the goal as he felt the pressure of the potential 1-0 loss on his shoulders. Students screamed like bloody hell as they saw Gerrard's kick dishearteningly hit the wall set up just inside the penalty box. It seems the English pride for the national team's central midfielder had diminished as fans, for both opponent Arsenal and the aforementioned Liverpool, called Gerrard a barrage of names questioning his manhood. Chairs were tossed and beer glasses finished as everyone put on their coats in preparation for the snowy English night. The calm was short lived, however, as the instant replay was shown.
It looked as though Gerrard's kick wasn't as bad as previously thought. It looked as though the kick was actually a near perfect strike bound for last second glory. The perpetrating factor preventing Liverpool heroics was the hand Arsenal's Fabregas. Calling upon Maradona's hand of God, Fabregas' hand raised above his head after Gerrards strike and was quickly hit by the fast traveling ball. It was not a question of accident or interpretation, but rather a sign of referee mistake. Fabregas may as well have had on a goalie jersey and some gloves, for his hand stopped the ball in the most pivotal of moments. Gerrard and fellow Liverpool players screamed at the refs in disgust, but to no avail. The game was over and the whistle had been blown. The refs surely recognize their mistake now, but were unable to recoil their decision in the wake of such a dramatic finish.
Would the ball have ended up in the back of the goal? Who knows. What I did know this night, was that the pub was seating a majority of Arsenal fans. For the shocking instant replay did not produce the expected cacophony of groans and profanity, but rather a muffled laughter as Arsenal fans sheepishly zipped up their coats and pretended not to see the replay. So it goes in European football I suppose.
The excitement in tonight's game was unrivaled by anything experienced in America. And this was not the Superbowl. We watched that at 11:30 pm on Sunday in a pub down the road from here. While it may have been for the British announcers or lack of English commercials, but the excitement was unparalleled to English Premier League Soccer. Even in a pub full of American friends, the NFL only presented a showcase of overpaid athletes competing in what a local coined as 'a pussy version of rugby.' The soccer over here is not a reason for people to get together and converse. It is to watch their team, placing their love and livelihood on every kick of the ball. Players get knocked in the head and are constantly spitting out blood, stopping only under the referee's demands.
This game is life over here. Every game, no matter who is playing, is accompanied with masses of amazed fans. For two nights a week over here, it is Iowa City when Iowa is in the National Championship. The British love their game. They live for their game. 4 games and 2 weeks into our adventure over here, us Americans are trying to do the same.
It looked as though Gerrard's kick wasn't as bad as previously thought. It looked as though the kick was actually a near perfect strike bound for last second glory. The perpetrating factor preventing Liverpool heroics was the hand Arsenal's Fabregas. Calling upon Maradona's hand of God, Fabregas' hand raised above his head after Gerrards strike and was quickly hit by the fast traveling ball. It was not a question of accident or interpretation, but rather a sign of referee mistake. Fabregas may as well have had on a goalie jersey and some gloves, for his hand stopped the ball in the most pivotal of moments. Gerrard and fellow Liverpool players screamed at the refs in disgust, but to no avail. The game was over and the whistle had been blown. The refs surely recognize their mistake now, but were unable to recoil their decision in the wake of such a dramatic finish.
Would the ball have ended up in the back of the goal? Who knows. What I did know this night, was that the pub was seating a majority of Arsenal fans. For the shocking instant replay did not produce the expected cacophony of groans and profanity, but rather a muffled laughter as Arsenal fans sheepishly zipped up their coats and pretended not to see the replay. So it goes in European football I suppose.
The excitement in tonight's game was unrivaled by anything experienced in America. And this was not the Superbowl. We watched that at 11:30 pm on Sunday in a pub down the road from here. While it may have been for the British announcers or lack of English commercials, but the excitement was unparalleled to English Premier League Soccer. Even in a pub full of American friends, the NFL only presented a showcase of overpaid athletes competing in what a local coined as 'a pussy version of rugby.' The soccer over here is not a reason for people to get together and converse. It is to watch their team, placing their love and livelihood on every kick of the ball. Players get knocked in the head and are constantly spitting out blood, stopping only under the referee's demands.
This game is life over here. Every game, no matter who is playing, is accompanied with masses of amazed fans. For two nights a week over here, it is Iowa City when Iowa is in the National Championship. The British love their game. They live for their game. 4 games and 2 weeks into our adventure over here, us Americans are trying to do the same.
Monday, February 8, 2010
York
The other day, Steph and I set off on our first travel expedition outside of the wonderful city of Hull. Our journey took us to the beautiful town of York. The day was sure to be full of excitement, and waking up 5 minutes before we were supposed to be at the bus stop started our day off true to this thought. We made it to the bus stop, never-minding our disregard to typical morning hygiene, with not more than 2 seconds to spare. Fumbling for 2.40 pounds from my trusty money belt, we entered the bus and picked our seats. Is it sad if the 2 minute run from our apartment to the bus stop took all of our energy? Needless to say, the bus trip allowed us to catch our breath before waiting 2 hours at the train station.
Seeing as how this was our first train trip, we didn't know what to expect (hence the early arrival). Who knew it was so easy? Homeless men and terrible-2's stage toddlers made the chilly wait near unbearable. Trucking on, however, we boarded the train easily before Steph promptly fell asleep. Staying true to our typical nature, the train had to make a 10 minute stop somewhere in between Selby and York for whatever reason. This would not have been a problem besides the fact that the train was supposed to arrive at 10:00 sharp...allowing a perfect amount of time to make the 10 minute walk from the station to our free 10:15 guided walking tour. Our early morning luck didn't carry over and we missed the tour by 10 minutes, despite trying to catch up to the group with a like-minded Jersey couple. Although, erroneously joining 2 separate tours before being told they were private, paid tours made up for our disappointment with a little humor.
After exploring the city, we walked through the museum gardens and headed along the historic city walls. We walked along these ancient wonders as they wrapped around the York Minister. Not ones to stay on course, we were quickly drawn to the awe-inspiring monument and paid for our entrance. I need not describe it here, for any explanation would fail to give the church its deserved credit. All I can say is if you are ever in the area, it would be a crime not to pay the 8 pounds to enter the gorgeous gothic church. Us big spenders also paid the extra money to climb the roughly 300 step tower for a spectacular view of York. Needless to say, Grandma Donna would most likely have struggled.
After about 3 hours in the beautiful church, we went for lunch at a delicious cafe near-by. Macaroni and Cheese and a Ham and Cheese Panini with Mustard Mayonnaise warranted the splurge. This hot food was welcome energy that helped propel us to the next destination of the Castle Museum. Surely worth it for museum enthusiasts, the Castle Museum did not entertain Steph and I as we thought it might. Although interesting, we decided that we are not history museum people. Joe would've loved it though. We then wandered around the town watching street performers and stopping by various shops and cafes. Steph didn't stray from her usual style and wound up being treated with 2 treats (twice the daily allotment)--gourmet hot chocolate and a chocolate and caramel candy bar (do you guys think its pronounced KAR-MAL or CARE-A-MEL)? I only got a lousy ice cream cone that was awful to say the least (when you throw away the ice cream so you can enjoy the cone...you know its bad).
We were much too tired to carry out our other plans, including a haunted tour, and decided to head home early. An hour train ride (or nap for Steph) and a 10 minute bus ride got us home and into warmth. Looking back, is it cool for college kids to fall asleep at 8:30 on a Saturday? Whatever the answer, York demanded an early retirement and we cannot wait until the day we get to return to the beautiful city.
Seeing as how this was our first train trip, we didn't know what to expect (hence the early arrival). Who knew it was so easy? Homeless men and terrible-2's stage toddlers made the chilly wait near unbearable. Trucking on, however, we boarded the train easily before Steph promptly fell asleep. Staying true to our typical nature, the train had to make a 10 minute stop somewhere in between Selby and York for whatever reason. This would not have been a problem besides the fact that the train was supposed to arrive at 10:00 sharp...allowing a perfect amount of time to make the 10 minute walk from the station to our free 10:15 guided walking tour. Our early morning luck didn't carry over and we missed the tour by 10 minutes, despite trying to catch up to the group with a like-minded Jersey couple. Although, erroneously joining 2 separate tours before being told they were private, paid tours made up for our disappointment with a little humor.
After exploring the city, we walked through the museum gardens and headed along the historic city walls. We walked along these ancient wonders as they wrapped around the York Minister. Not ones to stay on course, we were quickly drawn to the awe-inspiring monument and paid for our entrance. I need not describe it here, for any explanation would fail to give the church its deserved credit. All I can say is if you are ever in the area, it would be a crime not to pay the 8 pounds to enter the gorgeous gothic church. Us big spenders also paid the extra money to climb the roughly 300 step tower for a spectacular view of York. Needless to say, Grandma Donna would most likely have struggled.
After about 3 hours in the beautiful church, we went for lunch at a delicious cafe near-by. Macaroni and Cheese and a Ham and Cheese Panini with Mustard Mayonnaise warranted the splurge. This hot food was welcome energy that helped propel us to the next destination of the Castle Museum. Surely worth it for museum enthusiasts, the Castle Museum did not entertain Steph and I as we thought it might. Although interesting, we decided that we are not history museum people. Joe would've loved it though. We then wandered around the town watching street performers and stopping by various shops and cafes. Steph didn't stray from her usual style and wound up being treated with 2 treats (twice the daily allotment)--gourmet hot chocolate and a chocolate and caramel candy bar (do you guys think its pronounced KAR-MAL or CARE-A-MEL)? I only got a lousy ice cream cone that was awful to say the least (when you throw away the ice cream so you can enjoy the cone...you know its bad).
We were much too tired to carry out our other plans, including a haunted tour, and decided to head home early. An hour train ride (or nap for Steph) and a 10 minute bus ride got us home and into warmth. Looking back, is it cool for college kids to fall asleep at 8:30 on a Saturday? Whatever the answer, York demanded an early retirement and we cannot wait until the day we get to return to the beautiful city.
Friday, February 5, 2010
End of the First School Week
We have officially finished our first week of classes! All are pretty good except our Indian Culture and Society class which is miserable. The topic could be interesting, but the teacher is, in the words of local brits, absolute rubbish. He showed up 30 minutes late to a 50 minute tutorial! So we left. Because that's ridiculous and we're cool like that.
Its been an up and down week with a mixture of boredom (hence three videos in one week) and hectic craziness (hence the unusually small amounts of sleep). Steph had a good day considering we went down to the city center to do some shopping. Due to her early birthday present to me however, (a guitar! still waiting for it to ship though...), her shopping was done sans money. And if any of you know Steph very well, thats tough. I'm sure it took everything in her not to just put it on credit. I'm sure she's making Jean proud!
There is a lot to say and surely everyone knows my habit of writing too much could accommodate this dilemma, but I will spare you all. We are planning a day trip to York tomorrow so we have to get a bunch of stuff done. Now I must convince Steph we cannot afford Peppinos (see video 3) for the rest of the night. Keep checking back for picture, blog updates, and videos. Everyone is doing really well at keeping us pleased and staying connected with us and we appreciate it. At the start of this though, we thought we knew our audience (Becky, Joe, Stephanie, Jean, Randy, Timdoor) but it looks like that has grown quite a bit! We'll try to make things more broad to encompass everyone now! So if you're reading this Jon, Steph and I are getting a soccer team together with Immanuel from Portugal and Rory from Maine. And if any of my moms friends are reading this...umm...we're staying safe, being healthy, and taking our vitamins.
Let us know who's checking in! Leave a comment! Like Adam, Skrocki, Jean, Randy, Stephanie, and Timdoor.
And stay tuned for the next update. It might just be by Steph!!!!!
Nick (the birds)
Its been an up and down week with a mixture of boredom (hence three videos in one week) and hectic craziness (hence the unusually small amounts of sleep). Steph had a good day considering we went down to the city center to do some shopping. Due to her early birthday present to me however, (a guitar! still waiting for it to ship though...), her shopping was done sans money. And if any of you know Steph very well, thats tough. I'm sure it took everything in her not to just put it on credit. I'm sure she's making Jean proud!
There is a lot to say and surely everyone knows my habit of writing too much could accommodate this dilemma, but I will spare you all. We are planning a day trip to York tomorrow so we have to get a bunch of stuff done. Now I must convince Steph we cannot afford Peppinos (see video 3) for the rest of the night. Keep checking back for picture, blog updates, and videos. Everyone is doing really well at keeping us pleased and staying connected with us and we appreciate it. At the start of this though, we thought we knew our audience (Becky, Joe, Stephanie, Jean, Randy, Timdoor) but it looks like that has grown quite a bit! We'll try to make things more broad to encompass everyone now! So if you're reading this Jon, Steph and I are getting a soccer team together with Immanuel from Portugal and Rory from Maine. And if any of my moms friends are reading this...umm...we're staying safe, being healthy, and taking our vitamins.
Let us know who's checking in! Leave a comment! Like Adam, Skrocki, Jean, Randy, Stephanie, and Timdoor.
And stay tuned for the next update. It might just be by Steph!!!!!
Nick (the birds)
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