"Why are you coming to the United Kingdom," the woman at passport control in Paris' Gare du Nord train station asked. I'm headed to London for the last stretch of my Europe trip on a Eurostar train.
In typical David fashion, I gave an overly explained answer that shared that I was visiting my friend's parents, I was on holiday, and that I was coming for a concert (amongst other things).
"Oh really? What concert?"
This part I had covered. "Arcade Fire!" I say with a boom and an upwards rising left fist, for no reason in particular.
"Hmm. Well, don't freak out but they came in right before you." she said, clearly expecting that I would in fact freak out.
"Oh my god, what really where?! Through here? Were they Canadian? Did they say they were Arcade Fire?!" I love living up to expectations.
She laughs. "I knew I shouldn't have mentioned this. Yes they were Canadian. Yes they said they were Arcade...whatever." She was clearly less impressed.
"Wow. Sorry, I have a weird idol worship thing with people I respect. And I REALLY like Arcade Fire." I say, hoping to come across as charming, not as a creepy weirdo.
"Clearly." she says with a laugh. "Well enjoy the concert, and hey, you'll see them there!" She stamps my passport and sends me off.
"It's not the same." Cue Charlie Brown sad walk, George Michael style.
Sigh...oh well. No meeting Arcade Fire and taking a picture with them for my world trip scrapbook. No big deal. I don't ca...OH MY GOD IT'S ARCADE FIRE!
There they are. Crafters of one of my all-time favorite albums (Funeral), creators of 2010's Grammy winner for Best Album (The Suburbs), and world renowned budding rock gods. And there they are!
Cue myself frantically digging my camera out and rapidly going through an internal debate as to whether or not I should go talk to them. I think "Wayne Coyne!" and go for it, even though I am crazy nervous (meeting someone mildly famous for me is like a crazy religious person meeting Jesus. And Arcade Fire is more than mildly famous).
"Hey, are you guys Arcade Fire?" I say to the group of 15 or so people who, amongst their number, are clearly Arcade Fire.
"Yeah man. I'm Will!" says the guy closest to me. Will Butler, multi-instrumentalist and lead singer Win Butler's brother.
I chat with Will for a bit. I mention my world trip, that I'm from Alaska and that the only part of my Europe trip I had planned was seeing their show in Hyde Park. I survive this, but I am probably acting like a person who is asking a girl on a first date.
"That's great. We're really excited for the show too."
"Hey, could I get a picture with you guys? I totally understand if you're not down, but I figured I would ask." I look around and see Regine, the other singer and multi-instrumentalist as well as Win Butler's wife. She looks extremely unenthusiastic, potentially attempting to use Superman-esque heat vision to decapitate me.
Their manager, or who I assume is their manager, informs me that they are on their morning routine so no pictures. While I am unsure as to what that is, I just say "Oh. Alright. I totally understand."
Will says "Yeah, we are just kind of relaxing. But hey, enjoy the show!"
Sigh...no picture for my world trip scrapbook. I say thanks and scatter nervously, standing in a line to buy a sandwich at a nearby shop while refocusing my chi. That's a bit of a bummer.
Then I think "hey! I had a conversation with a member of Arcade Fire! That's personal growth!" I smile to myself and hold myself high.
This trip just keeps on getting better.
And that is how I met the band I am seeing with 80,000 other people tomorrow in Hyde Park.
Music of the day: Arcade Fire's "Funeral" (of course)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Le Cinema
It seems to me that the entirety of Europe is raining simultaneously.
Okay, that may be a little far fetched, but at the very least the whole of Holland is. Having spent the past four nights in Holland (split evenly between Amsterdam and Den Haag - aka The Hague), it has been raining for nearly the entirety of it.
That of course does not mean that I have been having a bad time at all. Amsterdam is a beautiful and remarkably interesting place. And I don't just mean that in a "holy crap, marijuana is legalized here AND you can window shop prostitutes?!" sort of way. I mean it is a place that is the home of Van Gogh, of canals that out-distance Venice's acclaimed offerings, of delicious South American fusion food, and of unique and surprising artistic offerings (from street art to architecture to music). It is an amazing place. Plus, it has awesome shops! I got a cool new t-shirt! Yeah!
Den Haag is maybe not as interesting on the surface, but it is a great place to lie low during the rain. Mostly because they have absurdly great movie theaters put on by Pathe! Pathe! is a diverse company, but I knew them as a film production outfit who put out a slew of movies that include Slumdog Millionaire and The Illusionist. They also apparently have made movie theaters in Holland, and they are phenomenal. Comfy seating, top class food, fantastic sound and screen, and a great blend of commercial and critical hits.
With the rain, I decided to do back-to-back nights and movies and to quote Eminem, it feels so good to be back. I missed movies.
Here is a good analogy for you about my return to movies that of course involves food. You know how if you do not eat for a long time and then have anything at all, even if it is Jack in the Box tacos, it tastes like gourmet cuisine? Well, going to the movie theater didn't feel like that, it felt like CINEMA!!! (note: cinema must be said loudly while wildly gesturing with one - and only one - arm)
The first night watching X-Men: First Class (a movie I am going to obviously enjoy given my hardcore X love) felt like I was watching The Goonies again for the first time. If someone came in and told me that Natalie Portman was outside waiting for me with a billion dollars and a ring to propose to me, I would calmly turn and shush them, as if to simply say "I am trying to get my cinema on here!" To say I enjoyed it is understating it entirely.
I watch a lot of movies at home, and I had only seen one first-run movie in theaters in the past 3.5 months of my trip (Thor in London when I was half asleep). At first I didn't want to, and then I pretty much couldn't. Very few places offer OV (original voice) showings, but The Netherlands are (is?) all about it (thank you Dutch folk for speaking a language minor enough that Hollywood doesn't offer dubs for you!!!). And I intended to take advantage of it with the rain.
Mission accomplished.
Note: the other movie I saw was Bad Teacher. Not a great movie by any means. Not even a good movie. But a passable one that still felt nice to sit in, and I will support anything with Jason Segel.
Music of the day: Royskopp's "Junior"
Okay, that may be a little far fetched, but at the very least the whole of Holland is. Having spent the past four nights in Holland (split evenly between Amsterdam and Den Haag - aka The Hague), it has been raining for nearly the entirety of it.
That of course does not mean that I have been having a bad time at all. Amsterdam is a beautiful and remarkably interesting place. And I don't just mean that in a "holy crap, marijuana is legalized here AND you can window shop prostitutes?!" sort of way. I mean it is a place that is the home of Van Gogh, of canals that out-distance Venice's acclaimed offerings, of delicious South American fusion food, and of unique and surprising artistic offerings (from street art to architecture to music). It is an amazing place. Plus, it has awesome shops! I got a cool new t-shirt! Yeah!
Den Haag is maybe not as interesting on the surface, but it is a great place to lie low during the rain. Mostly because they have absurdly great movie theaters put on by Pathe! Pathe! is a diverse company, but I knew them as a film production outfit who put out a slew of movies that include Slumdog Millionaire and The Illusionist. They also apparently have made movie theaters in Holland, and they are phenomenal. Comfy seating, top class food, fantastic sound and screen, and a great blend of commercial and critical hits.
With the rain, I decided to do back-to-back nights and movies and to quote Eminem, it feels so good to be back. I missed movies.
Here is a good analogy for you about my return to movies that of course involves food. You know how if you do not eat for a long time and then have anything at all, even if it is Jack in the Box tacos, it tastes like gourmet cuisine? Well, going to the movie theater didn't feel like that, it felt like CINEMA!!! (note: cinema must be said loudly while wildly gesturing with one - and only one - arm)
The first night watching X-Men: First Class (a movie I am going to obviously enjoy given my hardcore X love) felt like I was watching The Goonies again for the first time. If someone came in and told me that Natalie Portman was outside waiting for me with a billion dollars and a ring to propose to me, I would calmly turn and shush them, as if to simply say "I am trying to get my cinema on here!" To say I enjoyed it is understating it entirely.
I watch a lot of movies at home, and I had only seen one first-run movie in theaters in the past 3.5 months of my trip (Thor in London when I was half asleep). At first I didn't want to, and then I pretty much couldn't. Very few places offer OV (original voice) showings, but The Netherlands are (is?) all about it (thank you Dutch folk for speaking a language minor enough that Hollywood doesn't offer dubs for you!!!). And I intended to take advantage of it with the rain.
Mission accomplished.
Note: the other movie I saw was Bad Teacher. Not a great movie by any means. Not even a good movie. But a passable one that still felt nice to sit in, and I will support anything with Jason Segel.
Music of the day: Royskopp's "Junior"
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Hide Ya Kids, Hide Ya Wife
One month from today I begin my journey back to Anchorage from the similarly chilly land of Reykjavik, Iceland. If you know what is good for you, I highly suggest stockpiling on foods from Middle Way Cafe, Snow City Cafe and Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop. Why?
Because I am going to eat EVERYTHING they have.
Note: comments seem to be working again.
Music of the day: Gregory Alan Isakov
Because I am going to eat EVERYTHING they have.
Note: comments seem to be working again.
Music of the day: Gregory Alan Isakov
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
My Kung Fu is Strong
One thing I have started to notice lately (and you may strongly disagree with) is that my mind has been firing on all cylinders and that it is coming out strongly in my writing.
Granted, I am not doing a ton of writing for my travel blog, but I have been throwing down some quality work for the comic blog I love to write for - Multiversity Comics.
I find that ideas are coming faster, coming together better, and that I am approaching things from a different and more fresh angle typically. There are a lot of different considerations that could factor into this occurring (or at least into causing me to believe it is), but I think the glaringly obvious one is that this trip has been really, really good for my state of mind.
I find that my mind has been sharper, that any stress or hindrances that have impacted me have melted away, and that overall I am in a really good place mentally.
I think another one of the interesting things that this trip has done for me along those lines has been positively impacting my speech patterns.
Before I left, I would have a tendency to want to get everything I wanted to say out in as quick of a fashion as possible, which would lead me to trip up on my words and sound like I have a speech impediment of sorts. One time, I even remember a rep from Bloomberg I happened to be driving around Anchorage for work had told me that I was like him and that I needed to learn how to "choke my motor" when I speak.
These days though, I believe my motor has been choked. Because I have spent so long working with people who do not speak English as their primary language, their ongoing requests for me to "speak slower" and "speak more clearly" have led me to a point where I have good rhythm and better enunciation in my speech.
I look back at Ryi in Tokyo as a very positive influence. She is the woman who guided me around Tokyo for an afternoon after we accidentally shared a lunch of sashimi, and having not spoken English in 20 years, she required training wheels of sort that could be provided by me altering how I speak.
Since then, I've continued that on throughout other countries to the benefit of myself.
This really came to mind when I was in Munich for a night. I was in my 6 bed dorm in my hostel for the night (the excellent Wombats City Hostel there), and I was surfing the web on my iPad and having a conversation with a woman from Manchester by way of Portugal (which is a lovely accent if you ever get the chance to hear it).
She informed me that I spoke in a very "posh" manner. Only knowing Posh Spice and not the definition of this very British colloquialism, I was a little taken aback. Some time later, I asked her what she meant by that.
"You speak in a very good measure and you enunciate every word as if they all matter to you. I say posh because typically only important people and royalty speak like that."
So that is a pretty cool class of people to be associated with. In that regard, I guess I don't mind being called posh.
Music of the day: The Radio Dept. - Clinging to a Scheme (excellent record)
Granted, I am not doing a ton of writing for my travel blog, but I have been throwing down some quality work for the comic blog I love to write for - Multiversity Comics.
I find that ideas are coming faster, coming together better, and that I am approaching things from a different and more fresh angle typically. There are a lot of different considerations that could factor into this occurring (or at least into causing me to believe it is), but I think the glaringly obvious one is that this trip has been really, really good for my state of mind.
I find that my mind has been sharper, that any stress or hindrances that have impacted me have melted away, and that overall I am in a really good place mentally.
I think another one of the interesting things that this trip has done for me along those lines has been positively impacting my speech patterns.
Before I left, I would have a tendency to want to get everything I wanted to say out in as quick of a fashion as possible, which would lead me to trip up on my words and sound like I have a speech impediment of sorts. One time, I even remember a rep from Bloomberg I happened to be driving around Anchorage for work had told me that I was like him and that I needed to learn how to "choke my motor" when I speak.
These days though, I believe my motor has been choked. Because I have spent so long working with people who do not speak English as their primary language, their ongoing requests for me to "speak slower" and "speak more clearly" have led me to a point where I have good rhythm and better enunciation in my speech.
I look back at Ryi in Tokyo as a very positive influence. She is the woman who guided me around Tokyo for an afternoon after we accidentally shared a lunch of sashimi, and having not spoken English in 20 years, she required training wheels of sort that could be provided by me altering how I speak.
Since then, I've continued that on throughout other countries to the benefit of myself.
This really came to mind when I was in Munich for a night. I was in my 6 bed dorm in my hostel for the night (the excellent Wombats City Hostel there), and I was surfing the web on my iPad and having a conversation with a woman from Manchester by way of Portugal (which is a lovely accent if you ever get the chance to hear it).
She informed me that I spoke in a very "posh" manner. Only knowing Posh Spice and not the definition of this very British colloquialism, I was a little taken aback. Some time later, I asked her what she meant by that.
"You speak in a very good measure and you enunciate every word as if they all matter to you. I say posh because typically only important people and royalty speak like that."
So that is a pretty cool class of people to be associated with. In that regard, I guess I don't mind being called posh.
Music of the day: The Radio Dept. - Clinging to a Scheme (excellent record)
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Ich Bin Ein Berlin
Even though I spent only three nights there, I think I am safe to say that Berlin is one of my favorite cities in the world.
Really.
It is a vibrant city that never really seems to take plays out, always getting up early, staying up late, and going all in for every minute in between. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of Portland, my favorite American city, except you can replace all examples of irony with sincerity.
What I am speaking of there is both are similarly hip places with the hipsters that go with that, but, unlike Portland, you never get the feeling that this Berlin is doing it for the Pantomime Theater. People ride bikes, they have facial hair, they wear disgustingly hip clothes, they are squatters, they are artists, they use mass transit, they embrace music, but none of those things because they feel like it is a role they need to play. Rather, it is simply because it is what they do and who they are, and effortlessly so.
Note: I love Portland. Don't get me wrong. But a lot of people in Portland try WAY too hard.
I love the way you can look at rooftops and see things like the "1UP" tag, indicating that it is part of the street art enclave "One Unified Power" and that what they are doing is CRAZY dangerous and that a 1UP from Super Mario Bros. would be really nice right about then.
I love that when you walk around, you can see half finished pieces of art on walls, satellite dishes adorned with family photos, and cafes with interiors and exteriors brightened with beautiful art. In Berlin, an artist's canvas is wherever they are and wherever they want.
I love that the people are incredibly friendly, that they perform (juggling, magic, etc.) for people in traffic, that they are seemingly welcoming of every culture, and that they each have their own dreams that they work tirelessly to accomplish.
Some people may walk the streets and see graffiti and illustrations all over the walls and think "man, this place makes Compton look clean" but to me, I see this as a place that people can go and be themselves and feel as if they are part of a society that is accepting of who and what you are.
It is a remarkable place. It is a huge place. It is a inexpensive yet poor place. It is a place of great history.
It is pretty freaking awesome, all in all, and a fantastic addition to my ever growing list of "European cities I would love to call home."
I'm only sad that I had just three days to call it that.
Music of the day: Dubstep, whatever you've got
Really.
It is a vibrant city that never really seems to take plays out, always getting up early, staying up late, and going all in for every minute in between. In a lot of ways, it reminds me of Portland, my favorite American city, except you can replace all examples of irony with sincerity.
What I am speaking of there is both are similarly hip places with the hipsters that go with that, but, unlike Portland, you never get the feeling that this Berlin is doing it for the Pantomime Theater. People ride bikes, they have facial hair, they wear disgustingly hip clothes, they are squatters, they are artists, they use mass transit, they embrace music, but none of those things because they feel like it is a role they need to play. Rather, it is simply because it is what they do and who they are, and effortlessly so.
Note: I love Portland. Don't get me wrong. But a lot of people in Portland try WAY too hard.
I love the way you can look at rooftops and see things like the "1UP" tag, indicating that it is part of the street art enclave "One Unified Power" and that what they are doing is CRAZY dangerous and that a 1UP from Super Mario Bros. would be really nice right about then.
I love that when you walk around, you can see half finished pieces of art on walls, satellite dishes adorned with family photos, and cafes with interiors and exteriors brightened with beautiful art. In Berlin, an artist's canvas is wherever they are and wherever they want.
I love that the people are incredibly friendly, that they perform (juggling, magic, etc.) for people in traffic, that they are seemingly welcoming of every culture, and that they each have their own dreams that they work tirelessly to accomplish.
Some people may walk the streets and see graffiti and illustrations all over the walls and think "man, this place makes Compton look clean" but to me, I see this as a place that people can go and be themselves and feel as if they are part of a society that is accepting of who and what you are.
It is a remarkable place. It is a huge place. It is a inexpensive yet poor place. It is a place of great history.
It is pretty freaking awesome, all in all, and a fantastic addition to my ever growing list of "European cities I would love to call home."
I'm only sad that I had just three days to call it that.
Music of the day: Dubstep, whatever you've got
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Old Clippership Captain
I have to say, while traveling you meet people of all walks of life in hostels. Sometimes the incredibly interesting (the Iraqi gentleman who helped teach me cricket in a bar in Sydney), the immediately awesome (Ben + Alyssa in Siena, Sergio in Interlaken), the oddly anti-social (I am looking at you French guy in Christchurch), the freakishly smart (18 year old British girl in Paihia, New Zealand), the well traveled (Lance from Toronto), or even the people who just live in the hostel (the always missing Chinese man in Sydney).
There is a huge list of types I've met, but lately I've been running into more and more of one type.
Americans.
And not cool Americans like Ben, Alyssa and Sergio. Especially in Prague, it was filled with the worst of the worst in American stereotypes abroad. Running into Americans is typically a blast because you immediately have a connection and a sense of comfort even if they seem crazy and violent ("whoa...what's with the knife?! Oh, you're American? Cool...what part?"). Not that the sort of thing has happened to me, I'm just saying they are easier for me to connect to immediately.
But every once in a while you run into those cliches and stuffy jerk faces that you run into anywhere in the US, and it makes you just want to die. Mostly because what they say. Thankfully, I have been cataloguing quotes from them in my head, so I can share my misery with you!
- "That was a good story man. You're a good storyteller. Typically I walk into a room and I take over a room with my storytelling - because I'm a writer - but you aren't bad." ~ Ridiculous guy in his 30's from Seattle who constantly dropped F-bombs and clearly thought he was the bees knees - I can only assume that wasn't Facebook he was on but his manuscript for the next great American novel.
- "I'm an alcoholic, and proud to be. I went to AA once, but that place is gay and not for me." ~ 20 year old guy from San Francisco (he will return)
- "Traveling isn't hard for me, mostly because I've been homeless for the last four years." ~ Another WTF gem from San Fran
- "I make $125,000 a year selling medicinal marijuana. I got the license for it when I was 12 because my grandma had cancer. That was good for my growing business." ~ Perhaps the crown jewel of San Fran's list (and there could be many, many more)
- "I don't own a TV. Don't get me wrong, I love Arrested Development and things like that, but why should I own a TV? It's just wrong to own a TV." ~ From my Prague nemesis who was from Colorado (I am assuming by way of Portland). He also had a tattoo of lips on his neck, as if he is a white hipster Kenyon Martin.
- "If I didn't have to book hostels, I would never be on the internet." ~ Prague nemesis who happened to be wearing a Threadless shirt (no TV and no internet? Who are you kidding at this point?)
- "Breathing is bad for the environment because of my own CO2 emissions. I don't do it because it isn't green." ~ From the Prague nemesis (okay, that one was made up, but it made sense)
- "I travel for a living. It's just good for the soul." - Pranemesis, and I wish that one was made up. Note: he also had been traveling for three weeks and he only had a week left. So evidently he likes unemployment.
- "Traveling has been so awesome. So many good pub crawls, so many good nights out. I don't remember a lot of them, but man, I will never forget them." ~ Maybe Pranemesis' top one, but a sentiment echoed by a lot of travelers. I can only assume he was drunk when he said that...at breakfast.
- "I have no idea why so many people go to Paris or Berlin. You know what is great? Krakow. Great pub crawls." ~ Pranemesis, trying to kill me with his indie sentiments of traveling. Accusations of cities being too mainstream are mind benders to me.
Those are some of my favorites. People watching has become people listening, because even if I am not in a conversation I try to listen in because you never know who is going to drop the next ridiculous truth bomb (because the only person more nuts and frustrating than Pranemesis is probably Charlie Sheen).
Lately, some of these people have made me openly wonder about myself...is it possible that I am the weird one? Should I be, in the immortal words of Max Fischer, trying harder to get drunk and score chicks?
I like to think not. As his dad - Bert - says in response, he's just married to the sea.
I guess I've been out to sea for a long time now, and I don't understand how people on land work anymore.
Music of the day: The Faces - "Oo La La"
There is a huge list of types I've met, but lately I've been running into more and more of one type.
Americans.
And not cool Americans like Ben, Alyssa and Sergio. Especially in Prague, it was filled with the worst of the worst in American stereotypes abroad. Running into Americans is typically a blast because you immediately have a connection and a sense of comfort even if they seem crazy and violent ("whoa...what's with the knife?! Oh, you're American? Cool...what part?"). Not that the sort of thing has happened to me, I'm just saying they are easier for me to connect to immediately.
But every once in a while you run into those cliches and stuffy jerk faces that you run into anywhere in the US, and it makes you just want to die. Mostly because what they say. Thankfully, I have been cataloguing quotes from them in my head, so I can share my misery with you!
- "That was a good story man. You're a good storyteller. Typically I walk into a room and I take over a room with my storytelling - because I'm a writer - but you aren't bad." ~ Ridiculous guy in his 30's from Seattle who constantly dropped F-bombs and clearly thought he was the bees knees - I can only assume that wasn't Facebook he was on but his manuscript for the next great American novel.
- "I'm an alcoholic, and proud to be. I went to AA once, but that place is gay and not for me." ~ 20 year old guy from San Francisco (he will return)
- "Traveling isn't hard for me, mostly because I've been homeless for the last four years." ~ Another WTF gem from San Fran
- "I make $125,000 a year selling medicinal marijuana. I got the license for it when I was 12 because my grandma had cancer. That was good for my growing business." ~ Perhaps the crown jewel of San Fran's list (and there could be many, many more)
- "I don't own a TV. Don't get me wrong, I love Arrested Development and things like that, but why should I own a TV? It's just wrong to own a TV." ~ From my Prague nemesis who was from Colorado (I am assuming by way of Portland). He also had a tattoo of lips on his neck, as if he is a white hipster Kenyon Martin.
- "If I didn't have to book hostels, I would never be on the internet." ~ Prague nemesis who happened to be wearing a Threadless shirt (no TV and no internet? Who are you kidding at this point?)
- "Breathing is bad for the environment because of my own CO2 emissions. I don't do it because it isn't green." ~ From the Prague nemesis (okay, that one was made up, but it made sense)
- "I travel for a living. It's just good for the soul." - Pranemesis, and I wish that one was made up. Note: he also had been traveling for three weeks and he only had a week left. So evidently he likes unemployment.
- "Traveling has been so awesome. So many good pub crawls, so many good nights out. I don't remember a lot of them, but man, I will never forget them." ~ Maybe Pranemesis' top one, but a sentiment echoed by a lot of travelers. I can only assume he was drunk when he said that...at breakfast.
- "I have no idea why so many people go to Paris or Berlin. You know what is great? Krakow. Great pub crawls." ~ Pranemesis, trying to kill me with his indie sentiments of traveling. Accusations of cities being too mainstream are mind benders to me.
Those are some of my favorites. People watching has become people listening, because even if I am not in a conversation I try to listen in because you never know who is going to drop the next ridiculous truth bomb (because the only person more nuts and frustrating than Pranemesis is probably Charlie Sheen).
Lately, some of these people have made me openly wonder about myself...is it possible that I am the weird one? Should I be, in the immortal words of Max Fischer, trying harder to get drunk and score chicks?
I like to think not. As his dad - Bert - says in response, he's just married to the sea.
I guess I've been out to sea for a long time now, and I don't understand how people on land work anymore.
Music of the day: The Faces - "Oo La La"
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Chumbawumba
I think during my last five days in Prague I hit a bit of a tipping point: I think I am finally really starting to feel the burn of travel. I realized that the five days I spent in Sir Toby's Hostel (a superb one if you are ever in Prague) was the most time I had spent in one place since London more than a month before, with a lot of train travel, packed days, late nights and early mornings mixed in. More so than anywhere else, Europe is burning me out.
That's not to say that I didn't have a great time in Prague. I did. While it isn't as spectacular as I had hoped it would be (it is so touristy), it did have a lot of greatness (and fun hidden spots as well). Some of my highlights included one day getting up at 6 am so I could see and experience the main sights without roughly 462,000 people around me (definitely the way to see Prague), the Letna and Vitkov Hill areas that were more local and gave a lot of great views, winning a pub quiz on my last night (trivia champion of two continents!), and the "no umbrella" walking tour I took on the last day there, which primarily featured lots of Prague history and lesser known sections of the city that were pretty much amazing (it helped that the Czech man named Richard who ran the tour told me I was the funniest person he has ever had on the tour in 12 years - ego boost!).
In a lot of ways, it was like existing in a fairy tale land. Untouched by World War II and still capturing the gothic and baroque based architectural majesty it always has had, this is a pristine and exciting city.
But I think part of my drag comes from the fact that at this point I want my evenings to be me, my iPad and some good natured web surfing, and all of the people on the traveling trails are the party folk doing the Europe track looking for the best place to drink until 5 am until they can do the same the next day - and Prague is the hot place to do that due to cheap beer and ample amounts of smoke filled clubs (SO MUCH SMOKING IN PRAGUE!).
As a person who has a genuine interest in experiencing local culture and what a city is all about, it is very disconcerting to have conversations with people about the places I go and them respond to me with crooked faces and inquisitive looks until they ask "where is that at?"
In Prague. The place we have been for the past few days.
People act like I am some sort of wunderkind because I know how to find the train station or eat where the locals eat or I know the spot in the city that lets you see all of the bridges in succession. I can tell you that I am not anything of the sort. All I do is ask questions and retain knowledge. I'm not just pissing the night away like I am some sort of tub thumper.
That just happened.
So maybe I am not tired of traveling so much as I am tired of the people I am forced to travel with. Every once in a while you find like minded individuals and you get a lot of joy out of that, but at this point - with Berlin, Munich, Amsterdam and Brugge ahead of me - I am most excited to go to Heidelberg, Germany again (to see my friend Kerstin) and to go back to London (to spend time with the Sobolik's and feel like I am at a home again).
I have been trying fairly hard to always book hostels that emphasize words like "not a party hostel" or "chill" or "place for travelers," but you never really know what you are actually going to get. Here's hoping I find places that are actually like that, because I need a break from party people who think that drinking with strangers and acting completely different from the way you do at home (because you can!) constitutes traveling.
Music of the day: Sufjan Stevens - "Too Much" (Fun fact: I have picked up the habit of walking around and mouthing the words to this song while listening to it and dancing - Czech Republic likely thinks I am weird)
That's not to say that I didn't have a great time in Prague. I did. While it isn't as spectacular as I had hoped it would be (it is so touristy), it did have a lot of greatness (and fun hidden spots as well). Some of my highlights included one day getting up at 6 am so I could see and experience the main sights without roughly 462,000 people around me (definitely the way to see Prague), the Letna and Vitkov Hill areas that were more local and gave a lot of great views, winning a pub quiz on my last night (trivia champion of two continents!), and the "no umbrella" walking tour I took on the last day there, which primarily featured lots of Prague history and lesser known sections of the city that were pretty much amazing (it helped that the Czech man named Richard who ran the tour told me I was the funniest person he has ever had on the tour in 12 years - ego boost!).
In a lot of ways, it was like existing in a fairy tale land. Untouched by World War II and still capturing the gothic and baroque based architectural majesty it always has had, this is a pristine and exciting city.
But I think part of my drag comes from the fact that at this point I want my evenings to be me, my iPad and some good natured web surfing, and all of the people on the traveling trails are the party folk doing the Europe track looking for the best place to drink until 5 am until they can do the same the next day - and Prague is the hot place to do that due to cheap beer and ample amounts of smoke filled clubs (SO MUCH SMOKING IN PRAGUE!).
As a person who has a genuine interest in experiencing local culture and what a city is all about, it is very disconcerting to have conversations with people about the places I go and them respond to me with crooked faces and inquisitive looks until they ask "where is that at?"
In Prague. The place we have been for the past few days.
People act like I am some sort of wunderkind because I know how to find the train station or eat where the locals eat or I know the spot in the city that lets you see all of the bridges in succession. I can tell you that I am not anything of the sort. All I do is ask questions and retain knowledge. I'm not just pissing the night away like I am some sort of tub thumper.
That just happened.
So maybe I am not tired of traveling so much as I am tired of the people I am forced to travel with. Every once in a while you find like minded individuals and you get a lot of joy out of that, but at this point - with Berlin, Munich, Amsterdam and Brugge ahead of me - I am most excited to go to Heidelberg, Germany again (to see my friend Kerstin) and to go back to London (to spend time with the Sobolik's and feel like I am at a home again).
I have been trying fairly hard to always book hostels that emphasize words like "not a party hostel" or "chill" or "place for travelers," but you never really know what you are actually going to get. Here's hoping I find places that are actually like that, because I need a break from party people who think that drinking with strangers and acting completely different from the way you do at home (because you can!) constitutes traveling.
Music of the day: Sufjan Stevens - "Too Much" (Fun fact: I have picked up the habit of walking around and mouthing the words to this song while listening to it and dancing - Czech Republic likely thinks I am weird)
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Hardcore Days & Softcore Nights
This trip has been filled with highlight after highlight. Even some of the things that have been small and seemingly innocuous have been instantly memorable - quick segue, recently in Florence's main train station, I saw a guy who had a Lupin shirt on. Lupin is a Japanese anime TV show, and it reminded me of a night spent in Kyoto, Japan with a guy from England, one from Sweden, and one from Poland, where we watched insane cartoons while the guy from Sweden translated and we all had beers. It was hysterical.
Anyways, back to the main story...there have been a lot of things that I will look back forever on with joy and happiness. Some of the best and most memorable times of my life.
Not that long ago I enjoyed what will quite likely be the best 24 hour period of my entire trip.
I was in Siena, Italy, a smaller city in Tuscany with a population of around 60,000 people that was touristy but not without a whole lot of charm thanks to the fact that most tourists only take day trips to it from Florence. That leaves the evenings and mornings as times with far quieter streets and more enjoyable times for those staying the night.
On my first evening there, I went to a Rick Steves recommended restaurant called Osteria Nonna Gina. Named after the former proprietor of the business, this little restaurant was rustic, authentic and very, very good. With that said, I was enjoying a romantic dining destination by myself. Highly problematic for some...no big deal for me at all.
I enjoyed my meal greatly, which started with bruschetta, followed with a gnocchi primi that was to die for, and closed with a secondi that was, well, I believe was, a roasted big leg. All delicious, especially the last item, a massive pork extravaganza that was packed with flavor and then some.
After I wrapped up, the waitress asked if I wanted an espresso or dessert, and I said no...but thanks. You know, being polite and all.
A little bit later, she showed back up and said she had a present for me...a bottle of homemade Amaretto and Grappa with a shot glass. The Grappa was not exactly welcome, as I am not entirely unconvinced that Grappa is paint thinner. However, the Amaretto was heavenly and reason enough for people to go to this restaurant on its own.
While Amaretto is not one of my favorite liquors in any way, shape or form, this was a marvelous drink that transcended its origins into some sort of super food. I was so enamored with it I had to interrupt the couple next to me who were enjoying their dinner without me interrupting them.
Next thing you know they were enjoying it, I was enjoying it, I was saddened to find out it was not mine to keep, but before I had left I had consumed half of a bottle and befriended the couple (who were from Texas) over booze, travel and music.
And so it begins.
Eventually, after departing the restaurant simultaneously (we closed the place down, both the Texans and I got there around opening at 7:30 and ended up leaving around 11:30), we agreed that we should keep the night going into infinity. So we headed to the grand piazza in the center of this wondrous city - Il Campo.
Once there, we consumed wine, the world's greatest mojitos (no kidding), and quickly befriended a slew of Italian university students who were near us in the piazza. They were fire twirlers, musicians and generally entertaining people (our IBFF - Italian Best Friend Forever - was a charming guy who wanted to be a comedian and thinks Bill Hicks is a god), and they welcomed us in with open arms. The three of us, Alyssa, Ben (the artists previously known as the Texans) and myself, got to enjoy something many travelers do not get - complete and utter assimilation into a local group.
It was wonderful, and by the time the night was closing with all three of our faces adorned with Italian flags at 4 in the morning, we were giddy and satisfied with our experience.
The next morning was supposed to start early so I could be on a Vespa by 9:30 am, but free Amaretto had different ideas. Instead, I was an hour late and only had 8 hours on the Vespa from Perozzi, the delightful rental company in Siena. The woman who rented me the bike was highly entertaining and very sweet, taking photos of me as she insisted I looked like "cheeps" with my aviator sunglasses (aka CHIPs, the 80's TV show starring an aviator wearing Erik Estrada), and was the perfect way to start my trip.
This was my lifelong Italian dream, and by the time I was 200 feet from the rental joint my mind was throwing down touchdown dances internally.
I spent the day checking out castles, roaming the Chianti region of Tuscany, accidentally going to awesome markets (and enjoying delectable pork products in the process), witnessing (but not enjoying) almost comically cheap wine tastings (don't drink and drive Vespas people!), dodging lightning (the crazy storm I went through briefly was honestly wildly entertaining in its panic inducing ways), and all in all having one of the best days ever.
I did ridiculous things while on the Vespa. I had occasional reprises of my Thai moped experience by belting out songs as I traveled (The Smiths' "Please, Please, Please" was a favorite). I added a new wrinkle, as I would yell in an Italian accent every sign I went past (which ranged from town names like "Castlellini" to signs that just showed pandas on it). It was a blast. I entertained myself thoroughly.
By the time I returned, I was a walking smile, grinning like a complete fool for the rest of my lazy and cheap pizza al taglio filled evening. Because why not? In the last 24 hours I had a legendary night out on the town in one of the most beautiful piazzas in Italy AND accomplished a life dream.
That's not exactly chopped liver.
Music of the day: New Beirut! "East Harlem" single is out! So good!
Anyways, back to the main story...there have been a lot of things that I will look back forever on with joy and happiness. Some of the best and most memorable times of my life.
Not that long ago I enjoyed what will quite likely be the best 24 hour period of my entire trip.
I was in Siena, Italy, a smaller city in Tuscany with a population of around 60,000 people that was touristy but not without a whole lot of charm thanks to the fact that most tourists only take day trips to it from Florence. That leaves the evenings and mornings as times with far quieter streets and more enjoyable times for those staying the night.
On my first evening there, I went to a Rick Steves recommended restaurant called Osteria Nonna Gina. Named after the former proprietor of the business, this little restaurant was rustic, authentic and very, very good. With that said, I was enjoying a romantic dining destination by myself. Highly problematic for some...no big deal for me at all.
I enjoyed my meal greatly, which started with bruschetta, followed with a gnocchi primi that was to die for, and closed with a secondi that was, well, I believe was, a roasted big leg. All delicious, especially the last item, a massive pork extravaganza that was packed with flavor and then some.
After I wrapped up, the waitress asked if I wanted an espresso or dessert, and I said no...but thanks. You know, being polite and all.
A little bit later, she showed back up and said she had a present for me...a bottle of homemade Amaretto and Grappa with a shot glass. The Grappa was not exactly welcome, as I am not entirely unconvinced that Grappa is paint thinner. However, the Amaretto was heavenly and reason enough for people to go to this restaurant on its own.
While Amaretto is not one of my favorite liquors in any way, shape or form, this was a marvelous drink that transcended its origins into some sort of super food. I was so enamored with it I had to interrupt the couple next to me who were enjoying their dinner without me interrupting them.
Next thing you know they were enjoying it, I was enjoying it, I was saddened to find out it was not mine to keep, but before I had left I had consumed half of a bottle and befriended the couple (who were from Texas) over booze, travel and music.
And so it begins.
Eventually, after departing the restaurant simultaneously (we closed the place down, both the Texans and I got there around opening at 7:30 and ended up leaving around 11:30), we agreed that we should keep the night going into infinity. So we headed to the grand piazza in the center of this wondrous city - Il Campo.
Once there, we consumed wine, the world's greatest mojitos (no kidding), and quickly befriended a slew of Italian university students who were near us in the piazza. They were fire twirlers, musicians and generally entertaining people (our IBFF - Italian Best Friend Forever - was a charming guy who wanted to be a comedian and thinks Bill Hicks is a god), and they welcomed us in with open arms. The three of us, Alyssa, Ben (the artists previously known as the Texans) and myself, got to enjoy something many travelers do not get - complete and utter assimilation into a local group.
It was wonderful, and by the time the night was closing with all three of our faces adorned with Italian flags at 4 in the morning, we were giddy and satisfied with our experience.
The next morning was supposed to start early so I could be on a Vespa by 9:30 am, but free Amaretto had different ideas. Instead, I was an hour late and only had 8 hours on the Vespa from Perozzi, the delightful rental company in Siena. The woman who rented me the bike was highly entertaining and very sweet, taking photos of me as she insisted I looked like "cheeps" with my aviator sunglasses (aka CHIPs, the 80's TV show starring an aviator wearing Erik Estrada), and was the perfect way to start my trip.
This was my lifelong Italian dream, and by the time I was 200 feet from the rental joint my mind was throwing down touchdown dances internally.
I spent the day checking out castles, roaming the Chianti region of Tuscany, accidentally going to awesome markets (and enjoying delectable pork products in the process), witnessing (but not enjoying) almost comically cheap wine tastings (don't drink and drive Vespas people!), dodging lightning (the crazy storm I went through briefly was honestly wildly entertaining in its panic inducing ways), and all in all having one of the best days ever.
I did ridiculous things while on the Vespa. I had occasional reprises of my Thai moped experience by belting out songs as I traveled (The Smiths' "Please, Please, Please" was a favorite). I added a new wrinkle, as I would yell in an Italian accent every sign I went past (which ranged from town names like "Castlellini" to signs that just showed pandas on it). It was a blast. I entertained myself thoroughly.
By the time I returned, I was a walking smile, grinning like a complete fool for the rest of my lazy and cheap pizza al taglio filled evening. Because why not? In the last 24 hours I had a legendary night out on the town in one of the most beautiful piazzas in Italy AND accomplished a life dream.
That's not exactly chopped liver.
Music of the day: New Beirut! "East Harlem" single is out! So good!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Living the Dream
One of the major reasons why I went to Italy in 2009 for me personally wasn't to see the Grand Canal, nor the Coliseum, nor the Statue of David, or anything else that people really go to Italy for. Really, it wasn't even to eat, which is a rarity for me (I like not love Italian food).
It was to drive a Vespa in Italy.
I have no idea why but I have always wanted to do that. It's an odd and small thing to desire, but there is something just so attractive about the concept.
Yet I never did it. I claimed that the reason why was it was just too dangerous, but I think it was more that I was a little scared of negotiating the awful and crazy streets of Rome using a device I had never used previously.
In my trip so far though, I have had a couple chances to drive a moped and I've built up confidence in my skills, which is great even if it is completely irrational confidence. This is good because it is a quality skill to have (you never know when you'll need to know how to drive a moped!) but also because I am headed back to Italy specifically for the purpose of driving a Vespa through wine country in Tuscany.
Just let that sink in for a second...I am accomplishing a life goal AND doing something ridiculously awesome even without personal opinions worked in at the same time. Doubly fantastic, if I do say so myself.
I'll be staying in Siena, a lovely little town in the heart of Tuscany about an hour and forty five minutes by train from Florence, for two nights and three days explicitly so I can adventure around with my trusty motored steed. Sure, I'll likely eat some incredible country Italian food and have some superb wine at the same time, but when you get down to it I am there for the experience of coasting through the rolling hills of wine country, belting out the three songs I know that seem Italian in my mind as I drive around.
I can't think of a better way to spend a few days.
Music of the day: Dean Martin - That's Amore (is there anything more cliche Italian in music from an American perspective?)
It was to drive a Vespa in Italy.
I have no idea why but I have always wanted to do that. It's an odd and small thing to desire, but there is something just so attractive about the concept.
Yet I never did it. I claimed that the reason why was it was just too dangerous, but I think it was more that I was a little scared of negotiating the awful and crazy streets of Rome using a device I had never used previously.
In my trip so far though, I have had a couple chances to drive a moped and I've built up confidence in my skills, which is great even if it is completely irrational confidence. This is good because it is a quality skill to have (you never know when you'll need to know how to drive a moped!) but also because I am headed back to Italy specifically for the purpose of driving a Vespa through wine country in Tuscany.
Just let that sink in for a second...I am accomplishing a life goal AND doing something ridiculously awesome even without personal opinions worked in at the same time. Doubly fantastic, if I do say so myself.
I'll be staying in Siena, a lovely little town in the heart of Tuscany about an hour and forty five minutes by train from Florence, for two nights and three days explicitly so I can adventure around with my trusty motored steed. Sure, I'll likely eat some incredible country Italian food and have some superb wine at the same time, but when you get down to it I am there for the experience of coasting through the rolling hills of wine country, belting out the three songs I know that seem Italian in my mind as I drive around.
I can't think of a better way to spend a few days.
Music of the day: Dean Martin - That's Amore (is there anything more cliche Italian in music from an American perspective?)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
No Matter Where You Go...There You Are
These days it feels like I am in perpetual motion. Always moving forward to the next place, the next sight, the next city, the next train. In the past 24 hours I have been on five trains in four countries, attempting to get to somewhere to call home for a day or two. That next place is Interlaken, Switzerland, until it isn't.
It's an interesting thing to always be somewhere new or to be traveling from place to place. It's like I am constantly on the first day of school, meeting people on their vacation in the best possible mood at all times. Who isn't happy during vacation? It leads to a lot of quickly developed friendships and/or conversations, and, at "best," an add on Facebook.
That leads me to the one thing that I've started to miss while traveling: roots. When you're always moving, it is pretty difficult to cultivate lasting connections. Granted, I could easily change this for myself by sticking around somewhere for a little more than a day or two at a time, but there is so much to do and so little time! It's a choice I've made, and there is no reason I cannot go to some of my favorite places later and develop those roots.
But it is kind of interesting...when I look back to the places I liked the most (Wanaka, Melbourne, Hiroshima, Chiang Mai, London, Paris, Heidelberg, Barcelona) they were all (besides Hiroshima) marked by extended stints in one place. The only reason why I don't change my itinerary and simply stick it out at one or two locations for my remaining time is for one simple reason: I know if I did that the opposite would be true.
I would be ten days into my stay in Prague, enjoying a coffee and the mighty fine architecture they have but thinking "man, it sure would have been cool if I made it to Budapest." You always want what you don't have...isn't that true?
That said, in my current final version of my remaining itinerary, I think I get the best of both worlds. A ton of places in there, but with multi-day stints in Interlaken, Siena (Italy), Zagreb (Croatia), Budapest (Hungary), Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam, and Bruges/Brugge (Belgium). Sure, it would be cool to go to Greece or Turkey or Poland (or rather non former concentration camp parts of Poland), but this allows me the best of both worlds: elongated stays while also visiting a bunch of places that are awesome.
Because really, the fact that I stayed in those favorite places for multiple days isn't the reason why they are favorites. I stayed there multiple days because they were awesome and I didn't want to leave them. If these places coming up are crap, I'll leave, simple as that.
Roots be damned.
Music of the day: Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground - Self Titled Debut
It's an interesting thing to always be somewhere new or to be traveling from place to place. It's like I am constantly on the first day of school, meeting people on their vacation in the best possible mood at all times. Who isn't happy during vacation? It leads to a lot of quickly developed friendships and/or conversations, and, at "best," an add on Facebook.
That leads me to the one thing that I've started to miss while traveling: roots. When you're always moving, it is pretty difficult to cultivate lasting connections. Granted, I could easily change this for myself by sticking around somewhere for a little more than a day or two at a time, but there is so much to do and so little time! It's a choice I've made, and there is no reason I cannot go to some of my favorite places later and develop those roots.
But it is kind of interesting...when I look back to the places I liked the most (Wanaka, Melbourne, Hiroshima, Chiang Mai, London, Paris, Heidelberg, Barcelona) they were all (besides Hiroshima) marked by extended stints in one place. The only reason why I don't change my itinerary and simply stick it out at one or two locations for my remaining time is for one simple reason: I know if I did that the opposite would be true.
I would be ten days into my stay in Prague, enjoying a coffee and the mighty fine architecture they have but thinking "man, it sure would have been cool if I made it to Budapest." You always want what you don't have...isn't that true?
That said, in my current final version of my remaining itinerary, I think I get the best of both worlds. A ton of places in there, but with multi-day stints in Interlaken, Siena (Italy), Zagreb (Croatia), Budapest (Hungary), Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam, and Bruges/Brugge (Belgium). Sure, it would be cool to go to Greece or Turkey or Poland (or rather non former concentration camp parts of Poland), but this allows me the best of both worlds: elongated stays while also visiting a bunch of places that are awesome.
Because really, the fact that I stayed in those favorite places for multiple days isn't the reason why they are favorites. I stayed there multiple days because they were awesome and I didn't want to leave them. If these places coming up are crap, I'll leave, simple as that.
Roots be damned.
Music of the day: Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground - Self Titled Debut
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