So after conquering most of Europe, I started getting a little homesick (and tired of walking). So I made my decision to start heading back to Madrid and fly home.
Only one problem- the ash cloud from hell (slash, Iceland) was still messing up flights everywhere. I slowly made my way back to Dublin in the middle of the night, got offered money by a fellow engineer for the bus, and had to spend the night at the airport with all the other bums.
Once the sky finally cleared later the next day, I was off to Spain again. But the situation down south was even worse. We couldn't fly straight to Madrid, so we had to circle around the mountains waiting for the volcanic ash to clear from the airspace.
Madrid round two was not as fun as the first time. I spent alot of time in and out of airports and lame hostels waiting for the next flight to Atlanta. Also, the airlines wouldn't let me simply switch my plane tickets to that day. Because of the complications from the ash cloud, the only seats they had available were in first class, and they wanted to charge me upwards of $2000 to get home.
So I decided to just wait a couple days and find a cheaper flight home. Long story short, I had to buy another round-trip ticket (and only use one leg to get back). But I finally had a way to get back to American soil. And after waiting a few days, I was in the air...goodbye Europe.
I had layovers in Chicago and Philadelphia, making it even more tiring and annoying. When I finally arrived in Atlanta, it took alot of strength not to kiss the ground as I walked outside.
A friend was supposed to pick me up from the airport after I called her (there were so many delays that I had no idea when I would even land). But she was sleeping with her phone on silent (shame on you Becky!), so I just started walking. I made it to I-85, and just started walking north up the highway.
I stopped at a Waffle House after walking an hour or so. It DEFINITELY wasn't my first choice of food I wanted to eat my first day back, but it was the only thing open at 3am. I was starting to get tired after that, so I walked off an exit, found a quiet Walgreen's parking lot in suburban Atlanta, and I layed there on the asphalt (feeling surprisingly content and safe, lol).
I found the Greyhound station the next morning and was waiting for the next bus to Greenville when I decided to give Becky another call (I didn't have my cell yet, and pay phones are expensive these days!). I finally got ahold of her, and she rushed over to pick me up from the middle of nowhere.
As I was waiting (in front of a prison, lol), I had many convicts coming up to me and asking for cigarettes and celebrating their releases from jail. The easiest (and safest) thing for me to do was pretend to be one of them, so I spent the next hour arguing about the law and congratulating fellow convicts about our recent release from incarceration.
Becky finally got me, and the next day we all drove back up to Greenville. I had my car, my cell, and my friends back. Home sweet home.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Doolin and the Cliffs
The tour bus was a great call. I was expecting a bus full of old people, but instead I was greeted by 6 other travellers...equipped with 2 cases of beer for the ride. So instead of having an informative and quiet trip down the coast, we had an AWESOME time drinking in the backseat and chatting it up...the Irish countryside as our backdrop.
We stopped in Doolin for lunch. Now I was expecting a small town, but definitely not this small. The whole town was comprised of maybe twenty or so buildings...restaurants and bars mostly. And there were maybe about thirty or so houses in the surrounding area. I ordered some amazing Irish pot pie for lunch (along with some potatoes and veggies, of course). After dropping my bags off at the hostel, we all piled back onto the tour bus and drove up to the cliffs.
Breathtaking would be an understatement. I think ball-shrinking would be more spot on. I walked straight up to the edge of these sea cliffs, jutting straight up from the water about several hundred feet high. It was petrifying. Even the great pictures I took cannot really do them justice. There were so many colors on the cliffs and the water below. The constant gusts of wind were like friendly hands pushing you closer. I really wanted to jump.
The bus driver dropped me off a couple miles outside of town, and I walked the rest of the way down the hill. I passed a cool looking castle overlooking the bay. I could see HUGE waves in the distance. I hear these waves are just as big as Pipeline's on windy days when the swells are high. I was sooooooo lucky to have good weather. I had always thought that England/Ireland/Scotland all had shit weather, and all the locals I talked to said I was the luckiest visitor ever to come during those few days of sunshiney bliss.
I finally got to my hostel on the river. Exhausted, I decided to take a nap in the grass. I was awoken by a little girl and her dog. She was tossing rocks into the river while the dog chased them and barked at them. I just love it when little kids speak English with accents. So cute. Even the dog was barking with an Irish accent.
The hostel manager was named Karl, and we had a few good talks that night. He was really helpful and friendly. He recommended I get some real Irish stew at a local pub for dinner. So I took his advice. I wasn't expecting the huge, steamy bowl they brought me. Along with home-made bread, some fries, and a Guiness, I was set. The stew was so good- full of hearty chunks of Irish beef, potatoes and carrots, and the best brown gravy soup ever. I was so full I could barely finish my fries and beer. Now that's when I love shelling out 20euros for a meal.
I slept well that night, obviously. Except for my snoring girl roomie. And a stupid door that insisted on creaking all night. But I awoke to another beautiful Irish day. I had a cup of tea outside with a cute little Czech girl. Then surfed the internet a bit before hopping back on the tour bus to head back to Galway. We stopped again at the cliffs and a few more places.
It was a good way to end my trip (oh yah, did I mention that I'm done?). I'm sitting here in Dublin Airport right now (after a horrible night's sleep on this stupid bench) getting ready to hop on a plane to Madrid, and then back to Atlanta.
I'm a little sad, but I've had my share of adventures. At least I was left with a great last image of Europe...those sea cliffs, towering high above the ocean...conquering all who challenge them.
We stopped in Doolin for lunch. Now I was expecting a small town, but definitely not this small. The whole town was comprised of maybe twenty or so buildings...restaurants and bars mostly. And there were maybe about thirty or so houses in the surrounding area. I ordered some amazing Irish pot pie for lunch (along with some potatoes and veggies, of course). After dropping my bags off at the hostel, we all piled back onto the tour bus and drove up to the cliffs.
Breathtaking would be an understatement. I think ball-shrinking would be more spot on. I walked straight up to the edge of these sea cliffs, jutting straight up from the water about several hundred feet high. It was petrifying. Even the great pictures I took cannot really do them justice. There were so many colors on the cliffs and the water below. The constant gusts of wind were like friendly hands pushing you closer. I really wanted to jump.
The bus driver dropped me off a couple miles outside of town, and I walked the rest of the way down the hill. I passed a cool looking castle overlooking the bay. I could see HUGE waves in the distance. I hear these waves are just as big as Pipeline's on windy days when the swells are high. I was sooooooo lucky to have good weather. I had always thought that England/Ireland/Scotland all had shit weather, and all the locals I talked to said I was the luckiest visitor ever to come during those few days of sunshiney bliss.
I finally got to my hostel on the river. Exhausted, I decided to take a nap in the grass. I was awoken by a little girl and her dog. She was tossing rocks into the river while the dog chased them and barked at them. I just love it when little kids speak English with accents. So cute. Even the dog was barking with an Irish accent.
The hostel manager was named Karl, and we had a few good talks that night. He was really helpful and friendly. He recommended I get some real Irish stew at a local pub for dinner. So I took his advice. I wasn't expecting the huge, steamy bowl they brought me. Along with home-made bread, some fries, and a Guiness, I was set. The stew was so good- full of hearty chunks of Irish beef, potatoes and carrots, and the best brown gravy soup ever. I was so full I could barely finish my fries and beer. Now that's when I love shelling out 20euros for a meal.
I slept well that night, obviously. Except for my snoring girl roomie. And a stupid door that insisted on creaking all night. But I awoke to another beautiful Irish day. I had a cup of tea outside with a cute little Czech girl. Then surfed the internet a bit before hopping back on the tour bus to head back to Galway. We stopped again at the cliffs and a few more places.
It was a good way to end my trip (oh yah, did I mention that I'm done?). I'm sitting here in Dublin Airport right now (after a horrible night's sleep on this stupid bench) getting ready to hop on a plane to Madrid, and then back to Atlanta.
I'm a little sad, but I've had my share of adventures. At least I was left with a great last image of Europe...those sea cliffs, towering high above the ocean...conquering all who challenge them.
Galway, on the Western Coast
Mmmmm...much better. I left Dublin on a long bus ride towards the other side of Ireland. A place supposedly more country-ish and welcoming. I got what I wanted.
Galway was a small town right on the coast, just oozing with character. My hostel was literally a hundred yards from the water, and it was surrounded by all kinds of small shops and restaurants. I got some Irish sausages and pasta to cook back at the hostel, and enjoyed my meal with the company of a young French woman.
My first day in Galway was spent walking along the coastline. I spotted a nice park about a mile down the shore, so I started walking. The water here was sooooooo much nicer than our side of the Atlantic. It had a deep grayish blue tint to it. Amazing. While at the park, I spotted a little lighthouse a couple more miles down the coast. I couldn't resist.
The whole day went pretty much the same way- seeing something interesting further down the coast and subsequently chasing after it. After the lighthouse, I saw another small town; after the town, I saw a cool looking peninsula/island; after there, I saw a cool mountain to climb. So I walked around for many hours, just taking it all in. It reminded me alot of Hawai'i.
At the end of my walk, I trudged out to a small island with sandstone cliffs on three sides. I walked across the narrow land bridge to discover my own private spot. The cliffs were awesome-looking, with signs posted everywhere that warned of the unstable state of the edge. I sat up there for a bit and enjoyed the cool ocean breeze. King of the island.
Along the way back, I grabbed a chicken sub covered in that sweet Mae Ploy chili sauce I always keep in my fridge. I thought it was really strange that they actually had that sauce on hand here in western Ireland. It was yummy. I'm gonna put that sauce on everything from now on.
I met a couple of Australian girls and a girl from Seattle that night in the hostel. One of them looked JUST like Megan Fox! From the side though...when she had a pouty face on. The three of us just chilled in the kitchen that night- eating, drinking, playing cards, etc.
I read one of the brochures on the table that told about a day trip down to the Cliffs of Moher. It was only a few hours away, and it was supposed to be really beautiful. So I arranged an overnight stay in Doolin (the closest town to the cliffs) and booked my spot on the tour for the next day.
Galway was a small town right on the coast, just oozing with character. My hostel was literally a hundred yards from the water, and it was surrounded by all kinds of small shops and restaurants. I got some Irish sausages and pasta to cook back at the hostel, and enjoyed my meal with the company of a young French woman.
My first day in Galway was spent walking along the coastline. I spotted a nice park about a mile down the shore, so I started walking. The water here was sooooooo much nicer than our side of the Atlantic. It had a deep grayish blue tint to it. Amazing. While at the park, I spotted a little lighthouse a couple more miles down the coast. I couldn't resist.
The whole day went pretty much the same way- seeing something interesting further down the coast and subsequently chasing after it. After the lighthouse, I saw another small town; after the town, I saw a cool looking peninsula/island; after there, I saw a cool mountain to climb. So I walked around for many hours, just taking it all in. It reminded me alot of Hawai'i.
At the end of my walk, I trudged out to a small island with sandstone cliffs on three sides. I walked across the narrow land bridge to discover my own private spot. The cliffs were awesome-looking, with signs posted everywhere that warned of the unstable state of the edge. I sat up there for a bit and enjoyed the cool ocean breeze. King of the island.
Along the way back, I grabbed a chicken sub covered in that sweet Mae Ploy chili sauce I always keep in my fridge. I thought it was really strange that they actually had that sauce on hand here in western Ireland. It was yummy. I'm gonna put that sauce on everything from now on.
I met a couple of Australian girls and a girl from Seattle that night in the hostel. One of them looked JUST like Megan Fox! From the side though...when she had a pouty face on. The three of us just chilled in the kitchen that night- eating, drinking, playing cards, etc.
I read one of the brochures on the table that told about a day trip down to the Cliffs of Moher. It was only a few hours away, and it was supposed to be really beautiful. So I arranged an overnight stay in Doolin (the closest town to the cliffs) and booked my spot on the tour for the next day.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Dublin
Surprisingly, I don't have many nice things to say about Dublin. The city wasn't very clean, it wasn't unique in the slightest, and it just generally lacked character and charm. It was a fairly normal city as far as big cities go.
Although, I did have some interesting experiences there. As soon as I checked into the hostel, this 6'3" German girl invited me to join her and her Irish friend for drinks later, so I decided to accompany them. The German girl had a tattoo on her wrist which said, "Love yourself, be kind to others, fuck all else." Quite the reminder.
After walking around the city for a bit, I hopped into a group that was taking a city tour. The guide was pretty funny, and he gave a long, drawn out history about everything we saw. Four hours later, I decided to leave the group. I think the funniest thing I learned was the history of the plaque mounted on the main bridge across the river.
The plaque was mounted about fifteen years ago, and it gave tribute to a priest that "died under suspicious circumstances after his carriage plunged into the Liffey River." The funny part is...this priest didn't exist. It was a prank by some local young people. And the plaque stayed up for TWO YEARS. This is the busiest bridge in Dublin, and thousands cross it every day. Eventually, the city council (after recognizing that they didn't put it up) did some research into historical records and Vatican manuscripts, and they found out that this priest didn't exist. So they announced that they were removing it.
But the locals had grown so attached to the plaque and to the memory of the priest, that they all brought flowers and candles to the bridge and blocked the way of the city council. The council members were unable to reach the plaque, and they eventually gave in to the people and left the plaque up on the bridge.
Anyways, I quickly got sick of the city. My ideal experience of Ireland was to be found elsewhere...namely, the countryside. So I did a bit of research and found that the town of Galway was a good stop to make. And off I went...
Although, I did have some interesting experiences there. As soon as I checked into the hostel, this 6'3" German girl invited me to join her and her Irish friend for drinks later, so I decided to accompany them. The German girl had a tattoo on her wrist which said, "Love yourself, be kind to others, fuck all else." Quite the reminder.
After walking around the city for a bit, I hopped into a group that was taking a city tour. The guide was pretty funny, and he gave a long, drawn out history about everything we saw. Four hours later, I decided to leave the group. I think the funniest thing I learned was the history of the plaque mounted on the main bridge across the river.
The plaque was mounted about fifteen years ago, and it gave tribute to a priest that "died under suspicious circumstances after his carriage plunged into the Liffey River." The funny part is...this priest didn't exist. It was a prank by some local young people. And the plaque stayed up for TWO YEARS. This is the busiest bridge in Dublin, and thousands cross it every day. Eventually, the city council (after recognizing that they didn't put it up) did some research into historical records and Vatican manuscripts, and they found out that this priest didn't exist. So they announced that they were removing it.
But the locals had grown so attached to the plaque and to the memory of the priest, that they all brought flowers and candles to the bridge and blocked the way of the city council. The council members were unable to reach the plaque, and they eventually gave in to the people and left the plaque up on the bridge.
Anyways, I quickly got sick of the city. My ideal experience of Ireland was to be found elsewhere...namely, the countryside. So I did a bit of research and found that the town of Galway was a good stop to make. And off I went...
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Troubled Belfast
What do you get when you put drunken Irish Catholics and drunken British Protestants all in the same small city, and then throw in decades of political and social disagreements that span across several generations? Why, Belfast, of course.
The city has been plagued by war for as long as most can remember. With the Irish fighting for independence from Britain, and the British still clinging to a land rich in exports and industry, it's no wonder that the people of Belfast are not surprised when they hear riots and fighting in the streets.
I missed the last car bomb by two weeks. Arriving late at night, I was nothing short of terrified when I first arrived. Belfast's reputation precedes it, and I was a lone American walking around after dark looking for a friendly hostel. People all around me were running home. I wasn't sure whether to scoff or join in. But my pack was too heavy for sprinting.
I was excited when I opened the hostel door to find a bunch of couches and beanbags occupied by travellers watching Avatar on the big screen. I played cards with new friends that night, not wanting to venture out into the warzone beyond the front steps. I made friends with a travelling French Canadian who was also travelling alone, so we decided to explore the town the next day.
I'm half exaggerating of course. Belfast was actually a fairly nice city. But the eastern side of town was where all the trouble was. So guess what we did the next day? Headed straight there.
We hired a "Black Taxi Tour" guide, who was an old man with a taxi, and a life which was intimately affected by "The Troubles". He drove us around the bad part of town, which had a 13 mile long wall splitting the two warring sides. The wall was 40ft tall in some places, and it had gates placed every mile or so which closed after dark.
The houses in this area all had thick metal cages on the sides facing the wall. Apparently, they still get attacked by the other side with the occasional molotov cocktail or two. There were several memorials along the wall dedicated to the martyrs of the troubles. Casualties included children as young as 9 years old. It was really eye-opening to hear this man's stories and how he had been personally affected by the war.
In recent years, there has been a big push for peace, which has resulted in countless grafitti murals depicting everything from political figures to martyrs. They were so interesting to look at. We even signed one of the peace walls.
After the tour, we grabbed a Guiness at a famous pub in town. I still haven't acquired a taste for the stuff. I feel like it's a cross between chocolate malt and molasses. But we did learn something new...the Titanic was built in Belfast! So we headed there next. After walking around for several hours, we found it. The docks where the world's most infamous sea vessel was constructed. I'm sorry to say that it really wasn't anything special. Just a normal shipyard, lol. But it was still amazing to be in such a historical place.
We walked past a Chinese buffet that night, and decided to indulge. I haven't eaten a Chinese buffet in three months, and I was definitely in the mood for food. I ate like 8 plates. The waitress just looked at me in disgust. I looked at myself in the reflection of the lid for the sweet and sour pork...and smiled.
The city has been plagued by war for as long as most can remember. With the Irish fighting for independence from Britain, and the British still clinging to a land rich in exports and industry, it's no wonder that the people of Belfast are not surprised when they hear riots and fighting in the streets.
I missed the last car bomb by two weeks. Arriving late at night, I was nothing short of terrified when I first arrived. Belfast's reputation precedes it, and I was a lone American walking around after dark looking for a friendly hostel. People all around me were running home. I wasn't sure whether to scoff or join in. But my pack was too heavy for sprinting.
I was excited when I opened the hostel door to find a bunch of couches and beanbags occupied by travellers watching Avatar on the big screen. I played cards with new friends that night, not wanting to venture out into the warzone beyond the front steps. I made friends with a travelling French Canadian who was also travelling alone, so we decided to explore the town the next day.
I'm half exaggerating of course. Belfast was actually a fairly nice city. But the eastern side of town was where all the trouble was. So guess what we did the next day? Headed straight there.
We hired a "Black Taxi Tour" guide, who was an old man with a taxi, and a life which was intimately affected by "The Troubles". He drove us around the bad part of town, which had a 13 mile long wall splitting the two warring sides. The wall was 40ft tall in some places, and it had gates placed every mile or so which closed after dark.
The houses in this area all had thick metal cages on the sides facing the wall. Apparently, they still get attacked by the other side with the occasional molotov cocktail or two. There were several memorials along the wall dedicated to the martyrs of the troubles. Casualties included children as young as 9 years old. It was really eye-opening to hear this man's stories and how he had been personally affected by the war.
In recent years, there has been a big push for peace, which has resulted in countless grafitti murals depicting everything from political figures to martyrs. They were so interesting to look at. We even signed one of the peace walls.
After the tour, we grabbed a Guiness at a famous pub in town. I still haven't acquired a taste for the stuff. I feel like it's a cross between chocolate malt and molasses. But we did learn something new...the Titanic was built in Belfast! So we headed there next. After walking around for several hours, we found it. The docks where the world's most infamous sea vessel was constructed. I'm sorry to say that it really wasn't anything special. Just a normal shipyard, lol. But it was still amazing to be in such a historical place.
We walked past a Chinese buffet that night, and decided to indulge. I haven't eaten a Chinese buffet in three months, and I was definitely in the mood for food. I ate like 8 plates. The waitress just looked at me in disgust. I looked at myself in the reflection of the lid for the sweet and sour pork...and smiled.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Edinburgh
So I explored Edinburgh today, but only for a few hours. I've spent most of my afternoon catching up on my blogs, and I spent most of the morning looking for this hostel. They're having a big marathon/festival here in town, so most hostels are booked solid this week. This one is cool though.
I actually stopped in Glasgow before I took a bus here, but it didn't seem interesting. It just looked like a normal city. But Edinburgh is much more historical. The old town castle is still in tact, and it sits directly on top of a dormant volcano right in the center of the city. How awesome is that?! The city itself really isn't that big. I actually saw almost everything in the three hours I walked around.
After lunch (a sheep tripe/meat filled pot pie w/ a side of mashed potatoes), I walked around and saw the castle and some churches near it. Then I found the marathon finish line and watch a few people run by. There was a mountain right behind me, and it looked like a good vantage point to view the city. So I climbed it.
The view was spectacular. I guess I didn't realize that Edinburgh was on the coast. But from on top of the mountain, I could see the sea port and some islands in the bay. Pretty nice. I climbed back down, famished, and decided to look for a snack. I found a mosque closeby with an ATTACHED RESTAURANT. It was called The Mosque Kitchen, lol. And they served some AMAZING curry. I got a huge heaping platter of chicken curry for pretty cheap. Then I sat at the lunch tables outside, surrounded by Muslims (or whatever) staring at this "white devil" (or brown devil) eating their food. I was hoping none of them heard my American accent, lol.
And since then, I've kinda just been writing blogs. I'm finally caught up...
I actually stopped in Glasgow before I took a bus here, but it didn't seem interesting. It just looked like a normal city. But Edinburgh is much more historical. The old town castle is still in tact, and it sits directly on top of a dormant volcano right in the center of the city. How awesome is that?! The city itself really isn't that big. I actually saw almost everything in the three hours I walked around.
After lunch (a sheep tripe/meat filled pot pie w/ a side of mashed potatoes), I walked around and saw the castle and some churches near it. Then I found the marathon finish line and watch a few people run by. There was a mountain right behind me, and it looked like a good vantage point to view the city. So I climbed it.
The view was spectacular. I guess I didn't realize that Edinburgh was on the coast. But from on top of the mountain, I could see the sea port and some islands in the bay. Pretty nice. I climbed back down, famished, and decided to look for a snack. I found a mosque closeby with an ATTACHED RESTAURANT. It was called The Mosque Kitchen, lol. And they served some AMAZING curry. I got a huge heaping platter of chicken curry for pretty cheap. Then I sat at the lunch tables outside, surrounded by Muslims (or whatever) staring at this "white devil" (or brown devil) eating their food. I was hoping none of them heard my American accent, lol.
And since then, I've kinda just been writing blogs. I'm finally caught up...
Salisbury and Stonehenge
I took a bus that afternoon and headed for Salisbury, the closest town to the famous pile of rubble. I met another American in the hostel, so we went out for fish and chips. Mmmmmmm. It doesn't seem like the English really invented anything new here, but their fish tasted really good, and the breading was extremely crispy and flavorful. The fries were so-so.
We just chilled in the hostel that night and surfed the internet. There was an old man that obviously didn't understand how loud youth hostels could be. And he locked himself in the lounge area to sleep, because the kids in the room next to his were being super loud. Eventually he came out and tried to talk to me, but he mumbled/complained alot and had a generally bad attitude, so I brushed him off.
The next morning, we caught the tour bus towards Stonehenge. The ride was nice, complete with voiceover and all. About ten miles outside of town, we pulled up to the site. We got our free audioguides for the tour, and walked out to the field. It was funny to listen to the commentary. They would tell this long, drawn-out story about the construction and history of Stonehenge, then add "may have happened" at the end. But it was still semi-informative.
The stones themselves were gigantic and unmovable. The tourist path lead around them, and the closest you could get was only like 20ft away. But I still got some good pictures. At one point, a little girl went running over the rope barrier towards the rocks, her dad sprinting after her. As if she could really knock them over. It would be funny though.
Some of the rocks had a blue tint to them, others had a reddish tint from the iron. When it rains, some of the rocks drip blood-like red. This is why the ancients thought the place was cursed. It was funny to see that Stonehenge was maybe 50yds away from a major highway (like almost all famous places are). We hopped back on the bus and headed to the next set of ruins, an old castle on a hill. Not much to say about that place though, we only walked around for like twenty minutes. There was a nice view though.
When we got back to town, we found a quick bite to eat at the street market (mmmm...sausage and onions in a roll), then hopped on the bus back to London. At the station, we parted ways after getting a meat pasty. I found an overnight bus up to Edinburgh, so I hopped on.
Let me preface the next part of the story with this: my feet have been stinking real bad lately. I dunno if it's all the walking, or maybe it's that my crocs have begun to rot, but after wearing clean socks in my crocs for twenty minutes, they already REEK. So guess who walked like 5 miles that day? And guess whose seat was RIGHT ABOVE THE HEATER VENT for the entire rear of the bus?
I have never been so embarassed in my life. I had three Scottish guys screaming, "Whose fuckin' feet are those?! They smell like rotten cheeeeeeese!" (in REALLY thick Scottish accents). THEN, they went around smelling everyone on the bus! What assholes. So I just pretended to be asleep. At first, they thought it was the lady three chairs in front of me, and they were spraying the whole bus with a can of air freshener they had. But then the Scottish woman beside me went back and told them it was ME. That backstabbing bitch!
So I had to endure 9hrs of driving with Scottish people commenting on my bad smelling feet. It was humiliating. I couldn't even look up at them when the bus ride was over, lol. But at last...I was in Scotland- land of kilts and bagpipes.
We just chilled in the hostel that night and surfed the internet. There was an old man that obviously didn't understand how loud youth hostels could be. And he locked himself in the lounge area to sleep, because the kids in the room next to his were being super loud. Eventually he came out and tried to talk to me, but he mumbled/complained alot and had a generally bad attitude, so I brushed him off.
The next morning, we caught the tour bus towards Stonehenge. The ride was nice, complete with voiceover and all. About ten miles outside of town, we pulled up to the site. We got our free audioguides for the tour, and walked out to the field. It was funny to listen to the commentary. They would tell this long, drawn-out story about the construction and history of Stonehenge, then add "may have happened" at the end. But it was still semi-informative.
The stones themselves were gigantic and unmovable. The tourist path lead around them, and the closest you could get was only like 20ft away. But I still got some good pictures. At one point, a little girl went running over the rope barrier towards the rocks, her dad sprinting after her. As if she could really knock them over. It would be funny though.
Some of the rocks had a blue tint to them, others had a reddish tint from the iron. When it rains, some of the rocks drip blood-like red. This is why the ancients thought the place was cursed. It was funny to see that Stonehenge was maybe 50yds away from a major highway (like almost all famous places are). We hopped back on the bus and headed to the next set of ruins, an old castle on a hill. Not much to say about that place though, we only walked around for like twenty minutes. There was a nice view though.
When we got back to town, we found a quick bite to eat at the street market (mmmm...sausage and onions in a roll), then hopped on the bus back to London. At the station, we parted ways after getting a meat pasty. I found an overnight bus up to Edinburgh, so I hopped on.
Let me preface the next part of the story with this: my feet have been stinking real bad lately. I dunno if it's all the walking, or maybe it's that my crocs have begun to rot, but after wearing clean socks in my crocs for twenty minutes, they already REEK. So guess who walked like 5 miles that day? And guess whose seat was RIGHT ABOVE THE HEATER VENT for the entire rear of the bus?
I have never been so embarassed in my life. I had three Scottish guys screaming, "Whose fuckin' feet are those?! They smell like rotten cheeeeeeese!" (in REALLY thick Scottish accents). THEN, they went around smelling everyone on the bus! What assholes. So I just pretended to be asleep. At first, they thought it was the lady three chairs in front of me, and they were spraying the whole bus with a can of air freshener they had. But then the Scottish woman beside me went back and told them it was ME. That backstabbing bitch!
So I had to endure 9hrs of driving with Scottish people commenting on my bad smelling feet. It was humiliating. I couldn't even look up at them when the bus ride was over, lol. But at last...I was in Scotland- land of kilts and bagpipes.
London (Part Two)
The next day was pretty lazy. I walked around Notting Hill, saw a few markets, and bought some nice sausage biscuits (brilliant, absolutely brilliant). I ended up taking a nap in Hyde Park right by the pond, and woke up shivering, lol. England is still fairly cold.
I met up with a couple girls that I met back while I was in Spain, and we hung out at one of their apartments. Did you know housing in London is astronomical?!?!? They had a pretty small, 2-bedroom, 1-bath apartment which was in a not so decent area and far from the city center...and they were paying over $2000 a month for it! They also said a place like that would sell for over half a million dollars! Crazy expensive. Anyways, she cooked dinner for us, and we all just chilled and played cards that night.
The next day, Me and a hostel friend went looking for a buffet. We were ravenous. And the only thing we could find was a small all-you-can-eat pizza place. They definitely weren't expecting an American there...especially me. I cleaned the place out. It was embarassing. Then I fell asleep in the park again whilst my body recovered (hahah, I love myself).
Another night of beer and cards, and I was ready to head out...
I met up with a couple girls that I met back while I was in Spain, and we hung out at one of their apartments. Did you know housing in London is astronomical?!?!? They had a pretty small, 2-bedroom, 1-bath apartment which was in a not so decent area and far from the city center...and they were paying over $2000 a month for it! They also said a place like that would sell for over half a million dollars! Crazy expensive. Anyways, she cooked dinner for us, and we all just chilled and played cards that night.
The next day, Me and a hostel friend went looking for a buffet. We were ravenous. And the only thing we could find was a small all-you-can-eat pizza place. They definitely weren't expecting an American there...especially me. I cleaned the place out. It was embarassing. Then I fell asleep in the park again whilst my body recovered (hahah, I love myself).
Another night of beer and cards, and I was ready to head out...
Monday, May 3, 2010
London (Part One)
So after a long bus ride up to the English Channel, we had to go through customs to get on the ferry. It was a nightmare! The British lady grilled me for like 20 minutes about everything! She asked me to name the exact cities where I've visited in Europe, my timetables for my entire trip, who I had travelled with and where they were from, where I would visit in the UK and who I would stay with, my opinions on the French and Italians, how much money I had in my bank accounts, the type of house I lived in, and so many other random questions. It was annoying, but they eventually stamped me through. I hung out with a couple Australians on the ferry and had a good chit-chat with them.
When I finally reached London, I was lost. Didn't have a hostel yet, and the subways were EXPENSIVE. So I sat in the park for a bit while I ate some leftover sausage and bread and cheese. While I was sitting there, an old Indian man approached me. He looked like a bum, so I immediately told him I had no money (not a lie). Then he explained that he was a medical student, and that he was just doing a survey for his thesis. He pulled out a nice looking pamphlet, so I decided he was legit. After filling out a rather interesting survey on end-of-life care, I moved along to find a hostel.
As I was buying a metro ticket, I questioned the guy next to me about the high prices of the subways. He said something about an "Oyster Card" (which caused me to giggle), and then he got mad that I was laughing. So I asked him how it worked, and he said (in the best British accent ever), "I don't have time to explain it all to you." So I walked away laughing, which he thought was extremely rude. He started yelling at me and calling me a prick and a twat (which made me laugh even more). I eventually turned around and gave him a thumbs up (which he REALLY didn't like), and I got sworn at even more. What a great first experience. ;)
I found a hostel in a rather nice part of town near Hyde Park. It was soooooo hard just crossing the streets here, because I kept looking the wrong directions, and cars kept honking at me and barely missing me. But I'm still alive, thanks for asking. I slept for a few hours after checking in, trying to make up for the horrible night of sleep on the bus. After a nice siesta, I went out to explore.
I walked to Buckingham Palace first. I think I've seen American prisons that looked nicer than that "palace". And you couldn't get close to the guards! I was so psyched to get a pic with the palace guards, but they were far behind the fences. So gay. So I had to make do with some distance shots. Westminster Abbey was close by, but I didn't feel like going inside. I've seen way too many cathedrals/churches on this trip.
I walked around more and found Big Ben and the Parliament building. Pretty cool. There was a bum camped out right in front of Big Ben, and apparently he has been out there for like TEN YEARS. He had a bunch of signs protesting everything from the war to abortion. I learned that he was actually a fairly rich person, with a family and kids and all. But he left his posh life to make a statement in front of the Parliament building. How strange.
I walked along the Thames River and saw all the bridges and buildings near the city center. London isn't exactly the nicest city. It's really old and dirty, and the river looks like it's filled with sewage. The London Bridge wasn't even cool! It's very plain concrete, no decorations at all. Tower Bridge was much nicer, but even then, it was surrounded by gross looking water and buildings. I felt depressed just walking around London.
I found a cool place to eat. It was like a warehouse turned restaurant. They had live music playing, and a grill outside where I bought a burger and a soda. It was a nice hangout. I went back to the hostel and had a relaxing time watching movies with some new friends. The pubs all close at 11pm, so no one really went out for drinks there.
When I finally reached London, I was lost. Didn't have a hostel yet, and the subways were EXPENSIVE. So I sat in the park for a bit while I ate some leftover sausage and bread and cheese. While I was sitting there, an old Indian man approached me. He looked like a bum, so I immediately told him I had no money (not a lie). Then he explained that he was a medical student, and that he was just doing a survey for his thesis. He pulled out a nice looking pamphlet, so I decided he was legit. After filling out a rather interesting survey on end-of-life care, I moved along to find a hostel.
As I was buying a metro ticket, I questioned the guy next to me about the high prices of the subways. He said something about an "Oyster Card" (which caused me to giggle), and then he got mad that I was laughing. So I asked him how it worked, and he said (in the best British accent ever), "I don't have time to explain it all to you." So I walked away laughing, which he thought was extremely rude. He started yelling at me and calling me a prick and a twat (which made me laugh even more). I eventually turned around and gave him a thumbs up (which he REALLY didn't like), and I got sworn at even more. What a great first experience. ;)
I found a hostel in a rather nice part of town near Hyde Park. It was soooooo hard just crossing the streets here, because I kept looking the wrong directions, and cars kept honking at me and barely missing me. But I'm still alive, thanks for asking. I slept for a few hours after checking in, trying to make up for the horrible night of sleep on the bus. After a nice siesta, I went out to explore.
I walked to Buckingham Palace first. I think I've seen American prisons that looked nicer than that "palace". And you couldn't get close to the guards! I was so psyched to get a pic with the palace guards, but they were far behind the fences. So gay. So I had to make do with some distance shots. Westminster Abbey was close by, but I didn't feel like going inside. I've seen way too many cathedrals/churches on this trip.
I walked around more and found Big Ben and the Parliament building. Pretty cool. There was a bum camped out right in front of Big Ben, and apparently he has been out there for like TEN YEARS. He had a bunch of signs protesting everything from the war to abortion. I learned that he was actually a fairly rich person, with a family and kids and all. But he left his posh life to make a statement in front of the Parliament building. How strange.
I walked along the Thames River and saw all the bridges and buildings near the city center. London isn't exactly the nicest city. It's really old and dirty, and the river looks like it's filled with sewage. The London Bridge wasn't even cool! It's very plain concrete, no decorations at all. Tower Bridge was much nicer, but even then, it was surrounded by gross looking water and buildings. I felt depressed just walking around London.
I found a cool place to eat. It was like a warehouse turned restaurant. They had live music playing, and a grill outside where I bought a burger and a soda. It was a nice hangout. I went back to the hostel and had a relaxing time watching movies with some new friends. The pubs all close at 11pm, so no one really went out for drinks there.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Where to Next?
Ok, I'm sitting here in Scotland, finally caught up with all my blogs. I won't release them all at once though, cause I like being ahead of the game, heheh.
So...a quick update. My original plan was to stay here in UK/Ireland for three more months, and then make my way back to Spain for my August return flight. But I'm slowly feeling like I'm not gonna find a way to keep myself occupied until then.
You see, part of what made this an adventure for me was that I was continually seeing new places. Famous places. And I was also meeting a ton of other travelers and hearing their stories. As summer is approaching, I'm finding less and less solo travelers, and it seems like I'm finding more of the rude/touristy travelers. So I haven't made any real good friends in awhile.
Also, I've seen almost everything that I wanted to see. Honestly, I really didn't think I would last this long. But I've hit almost every major/interesting city across western Europe. All in just under three months. So if I stay here for another three months, I won't be seeing anything new, I'll just be settling down into a normal work schedule. Minus a car and my friends.
So the idea to chill here until August is getting less and less appealing to me. I've had alot of fun, and I've seen hundreds of famous places. I think the adventurer is slowly getting tired (and broke). So I may be coming home sooner than I thought.
I still have Ireland to do, so things might change. I was initially excited about Ireland the most. I dunno why, it just seems like an amazing country. So I still might find a cool hostel to work at there and stay for awhile. But we'll see. Until next time...
So...a quick update. My original plan was to stay here in UK/Ireland for three more months, and then make my way back to Spain for my August return flight. But I'm slowly feeling like I'm not gonna find a way to keep myself occupied until then.
You see, part of what made this an adventure for me was that I was continually seeing new places. Famous places. And I was also meeting a ton of other travelers and hearing their stories. As summer is approaching, I'm finding less and less solo travelers, and it seems like I'm finding more of the rude/touristy travelers. So I haven't made any real good friends in awhile.
Also, I've seen almost everything that I wanted to see. Honestly, I really didn't think I would last this long. But I've hit almost every major/interesting city across western Europe. All in just under three months. So if I stay here for another three months, I won't be seeing anything new, I'll just be settling down into a normal work schedule. Minus a car and my friends.
So the idea to chill here until August is getting less and less appealing to me. I've had alot of fun, and I've seen hundreds of famous places. I think the adventurer is slowly getting tired (and broke). So I may be coming home sooner than I thought.
I still have Ireland to do, so things might change. I was initially excited about Ireland the most. I dunno why, it just seems like an amazing country. So I still might find a cool hostel to work at there and stay for awhile. But we'll see. Until next time...
Paris (Part Two)
So after leaving the Arc de Triomphe, I decided to go straight for La Defense, the "new" part of town. The interesting thing about La Defense is that all of the streets are underground. So you have all of the skyscrapers and tech-buildings connected only by walkways and plazas. Imagine a nicer Manhattan without the noise of cars. It gave a really eerie feeling though. Kinda similar to the feeling I got while walking around Brussels. The arc in the main plaza though was really interesting. It was more like a hollow cube than an arc though. But it was honeycombed with office windows. They said that the entire Arc de Triomphe would fit underneath the "Grande Arc" here, so it was a giant structure (look at the pics).
After I left there, I decided to walk along the river. After awhile, I glanced over my right shoulder, and I saw something AWESOME. LADY LIBERTY!!!! There she was, just chillin' on a mini Liberty Island in the middle of the river. I got really excited because I wasn't even looking for it. USA - 1, France - 0.
I walked through more parks, and along more rivers, and saw a few more unknown but totally awesome old buildings. And then I met up with my CouchSurfing friend for a picnic. He and a few friends set up camp right on an island behind Notre Dame. There were TONS of other people our age doing the same thing (I guess picnics are popular here). We ate bread and cheese and patee and wine and a bunch of other Frenchie food. I was laughing at the contrast between this and what we do at home to hang out. For some reason, things just feel classier in Paris.
The next day, I decided to explore the Louvre. It was HUUUGE. I went straight for the Mona Lisa. It's definitely smaller than it looks on tv, but it's still cool. I have no idea why it's considered such an awesome painting though. I glanced around the room where it was kept, and I saw tons of other works of art that were way more awe-inspiring. I went back to the lobby and found a Starbucks. It's prolly the most expensive one in the world, omfg. But I determined that I needed a treat, so I got my favorite mocha frapuccino.
The cool part of the Louvre is that the museum itself is a work of art. I remember thinking that if they just had blank walls and statue-less pedestals, the rooms and layouts and exterior of the Louvre would be cool by itself. There is too much to describe, and my camera died after a few pics, so I'll just give you my favorite: the Winged Victory of Samothrace. For some strange reason, I am now obsessed with this statue. Let me start with the positioning. It sits on a mezzanine at the top of a sweeping staircase. The pedestal looks similar to the bow of a ship, and the statue matches perfectly with it. The Winged Victory embodies pure action...almost like a snapshot of an angel charging victoriously into battle. Pictures really don't do it justice. I felt small standing in front of her...small, cowardly, almost reverent. It has a certain power to it. Maybe that's why it is so famous. Anyways, I could go on and on...
Another CouchSurfer showed up that night to stay with Freddy. So we toured around the next day while Freddy was working. We saw the Parthenon, more lovely parks and statues and monuments, and of course, Notre Dame (it's hard to be impressed by another cathedral after seeing so many on this trip, but it was amazing nonetheless). We also found the Moulin Rouge up on the hill. Soooooooooo expensive to see a show there.
We looked around a little more, and then I decided it was time for a nap. And what better place for a nap than beside the Eiffel Tower. I laid on the grass, gazing up at the tower against a bright blue and white backdrop. It was peaceful there...except for the throngs of tourists, the never-ending stream of beggars asking obviously sleeping people for money, and the continual onslaught of black crows flying way to close to the ground. But besides that, it was a nice nap.
That night I took an overnight bus to London. I sat in a broken seat...BUT it was broken in a good way. It reclined all the way down so I could lie flat. I was extremely happy with my good fortune. Until right as we were about to pull away, a large black man hopped on at the last minute. And guess where he decided to sit?!?!? Directly behind me. OMFG. And he wouldn't move to the adjacent seat so I could recline!!! His english wasn't very good, and he insisted on sitting behind me even when I tried to explain that I couldn't put my seat up. So the back of my chair was lying on top of his massive chest. How awkward. AND he snored like a fat bastard! I was infuriated. My perfect seat ruined. He kept subtlely trying to push my chair forward, but it kept falling back down. Eventually, I got tired of being pushed up and down by his monstrous, breathing chest, and I moved into an upright seat. Worst night of sleep EVER.
After I left there, I decided to walk along the river. After awhile, I glanced over my right shoulder, and I saw something AWESOME. LADY LIBERTY!!!! There she was, just chillin' on a mini Liberty Island in the middle of the river. I got really excited because I wasn't even looking for it. USA - 1, France - 0.
I walked through more parks, and along more rivers, and saw a few more unknown but totally awesome old buildings. And then I met up with my CouchSurfing friend for a picnic. He and a few friends set up camp right on an island behind Notre Dame. There were TONS of other people our age doing the same thing (I guess picnics are popular here). We ate bread and cheese and patee and wine and a bunch of other Frenchie food. I was laughing at the contrast between this and what we do at home to hang out. For some reason, things just feel classier in Paris.
The next day, I decided to explore the Louvre. It was HUUUGE. I went straight for the Mona Lisa. It's definitely smaller than it looks on tv, but it's still cool. I have no idea why it's considered such an awesome painting though. I glanced around the room where it was kept, and I saw tons of other works of art that were way more awe-inspiring. I went back to the lobby and found a Starbucks. It's prolly the most expensive one in the world, omfg. But I determined that I needed a treat, so I got my favorite mocha frapuccino.
The cool part of the Louvre is that the museum itself is a work of art. I remember thinking that if they just had blank walls and statue-less pedestals, the rooms and layouts and exterior of the Louvre would be cool by itself. There is too much to describe, and my camera died after a few pics, so I'll just give you my favorite: the Winged Victory of Samothrace. For some strange reason, I am now obsessed with this statue. Let me start with the positioning. It sits on a mezzanine at the top of a sweeping staircase. The pedestal looks similar to the bow of a ship, and the statue matches perfectly with it. The Winged Victory embodies pure action...almost like a snapshot of an angel charging victoriously into battle. Pictures really don't do it justice. I felt small standing in front of her...small, cowardly, almost reverent. It has a certain power to it. Maybe that's why it is so famous. Anyways, I could go on and on...
Another CouchSurfer showed up that night to stay with Freddy. So we toured around the next day while Freddy was working. We saw the Parthenon, more lovely parks and statues and monuments, and of course, Notre Dame (it's hard to be impressed by another cathedral after seeing so many on this trip, but it was amazing nonetheless). We also found the Moulin Rouge up on the hill. Soooooooooo expensive to see a show there.
We looked around a little more, and then I decided it was time for a nap. And what better place for a nap than beside the Eiffel Tower. I laid on the grass, gazing up at the tower against a bright blue and white backdrop. It was peaceful there...except for the throngs of tourists, the never-ending stream of beggars asking obviously sleeping people for money, and the continual onslaught of black crows flying way to close to the ground. But besides that, it was a nice nap.
That night I took an overnight bus to London. I sat in a broken seat...BUT it was broken in a good way. It reclined all the way down so I could lie flat. I was extremely happy with my good fortune. Until right as we were about to pull away, a large black man hopped on at the last minute. And guess where he decided to sit?!?!? Directly behind me. OMFG. And he wouldn't move to the adjacent seat so I could recline!!! His english wasn't very good, and he insisted on sitting behind me even when I tried to explain that I couldn't put my seat up. So the back of my chair was lying on top of his massive chest. How awkward. AND he snored like a fat bastard! I was infuriated. My perfect seat ruined. He kept subtlely trying to push my chair forward, but it kept falling back down. Eventually, I got tired of being pushed up and down by his monstrous, breathing chest, and I moved into an upright seat. Worst night of sleep EVER.
Paris (Part One)
I feel all warm inside just writing about this amazing city. I think of all the places I've visited in the past months, Paris is the only place I could live. It really is beautiful. I stayed with a CouchSurfer named Freddy for a few days. Another great CouchSurfing experience.
I got in late from Brussels. At the station, there was an old african woman trying to lug a 200lb bag up the steps. So being the gentleman I am, I helped her carry it up the steps...then dragged it for about a 5min walk to the next set of steps, then illicited the help of some shady bus stop characters who thought they were gonna get a tip...ALL WHILE THE LADY WALKED 50FT IN FRONT OF ME, NOT EVEN HELPING. Bitch. But she did let me use her cell phone afterwards to call Freddy.
The next morning, I decided to start off big- Eiffel Tower. I got an all day metro pass, and I took the next subway to the famous flagpole. And I wasn't let down- the tower was huge. The Eiffel Tower totally dominates everything else around it. And the parks and the river adjacent to the tower are beautiful.
I walked down the hill and stood on the bridge in front of the tower and looked up in awe. It was surrreal. What made it even MORE amazing were the two blazing hot chicks in front of me making out for the entirety of the five minutes I stood there. I tried reeeeeeaaaaaaalllllly hard to get them in one of my pics, but I failed. Damn it. Ahhhhhhh, the city of love.
I was starving, so I started walking towards the Arc de Triomphe and found a market close by. I bought a huge chicken leg, some bread, and a pastry for dessert. I sat there in front of a museum and just people-watched (I have no idea why I've started to enjoy just watching strangers...weird). As I walked towards the Arc, some man pulled his car over and tried to sell me some designer suits. He literally shook my hand and then pulled me in the window. I laughed at him and said, "Dude, look at what I'm wearing right now. I have an old t-shirt, shorts, and crocs on. Do you really think I'm gonna buy your suits." He swore at me and drove off, lol.
The Arc de Triomphe was cool. It stood smack dab in the center of a HUGE roundabout. You had to take an underground walkway to get to the middle. I've seen alot of arcs on this trip, so this one didn't seem as special. Except for the fact that you could see the arc in front of the Louvre (many kilometers away), and the arc in the La Defense area of town (many miles away), and all three were in a straight line. Pretty cool city planning if you ask me...
I got in late from Brussels. At the station, there was an old african woman trying to lug a 200lb bag up the steps. So being the gentleman I am, I helped her carry it up the steps...then dragged it for about a 5min walk to the next set of steps, then illicited the help of some shady bus stop characters who thought they were gonna get a tip...ALL WHILE THE LADY WALKED 50FT IN FRONT OF ME, NOT EVEN HELPING. Bitch. But she did let me use her cell phone afterwards to call Freddy.
The next morning, I decided to start off big- Eiffel Tower. I got an all day metro pass, and I took the next subway to the famous flagpole. And I wasn't let down- the tower was huge. The Eiffel Tower totally dominates everything else around it. And the parks and the river adjacent to the tower are beautiful.
I walked down the hill and stood on the bridge in front of the tower and looked up in awe. It was surrreal. What made it even MORE amazing were the two blazing hot chicks in front of me making out for the entirety of the five minutes I stood there. I tried reeeeeeaaaaaaalllllly hard to get them in one of my pics, but I failed. Damn it. Ahhhhhhh, the city of love.
I was starving, so I started walking towards the Arc de Triomphe and found a market close by. I bought a huge chicken leg, some bread, and a pastry for dessert. I sat there in front of a museum and just people-watched (I have no idea why I've started to enjoy just watching strangers...weird). As I walked towards the Arc, some man pulled his car over and tried to sell me some designer suits. He literally shook my hand and then pulled me in the window. I laughed at him and said, "Dude, look at what I'm wearing right now. I have an old t-shirt, shorts, and crocs on. Do you really think I'm gonna buy your suits." He swore at me and drove off, lol.
The Arc de Triomphe was cool. It stood smack dab in the center of a HUGE roundabout. You had to take an underground walkway to get to the middle. I've seen alot of arcs on this trip, so this one didn't seem as special. Except for the fact that you could see the arc in front of the Louvre (many kilometers away), and the arc in the La Defense area of town (many miles away), and all three were in a straight line. Pretty cool city planning if you ask me...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)