So. Germany! Starting with Berlin!

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I haven't actually been on my own computer to upload any blogs or photos since Berlin.

I'll give a quick overview of Berlin because, even though the city is amazing, I was ready to go after a couple days. Not because of something I didn't like, but because I didn't really have anybody to wander the city with. I've come to realize that the amount of enjoyment I get out of the cities late in this trip has everything to do with how social I am (or am able to be). When you travel solo, you are never really alone. But sometimes you get hostels with groups of people rather than soloers and they aren't very open. This is how Berlin was: a cool city with tons of history, but nobody to really hang out with.

Anyways, I stayed downtown right of of Freidrichstrasse, the main drag of the city. There were lots of expensive shops and I even got to see my Bugatti Veyron within the first hour in the city. (Yeah, I pretty much melted. I've been waiting to see one of those cars since I got to Europe.) After I found my hostel I took a two hour walk around the city for the evening. I realized the next day that I seen many of the major monuments that night, which was interesting to me. Downtown Berlin wasn't as big as I expected. The second day I took one of the free tours to make sure I'd see everything important and visited the Holocaust Memorial.

The memorial is an interesting work of art. It's right in the middle of the city and uses NO symbolism. None. It has no “meaning” except to be a monument in honor of the Jews killed. This lack of symbolism creates a lot of controversy about it, but I like it. It really allows people to apply their own interpretations. I learned a lesson back at Boys' State: things only have meaning because WE give them meaning. It's a very powerful experience to walk through the Monument the Murdered Jews (yes, through, this thing is huge) and determine your own personal feelings on the monument, holocaust and whatever else may cross your mind. It's thought provoking.

The last day in Berlin I visited the East Side Gallery. The Wall. Or, what of the wall remains standing, covered in art. It stands for about a mile in a...part of town with a lot of character, to say the least. Walking along the Berlin wall was one of the coolest things I've done in a while. The art has meaning, it conveys hope, love, peace and acceptance all along the way. More than that it is modern history. People only one generation ago built and destroyed this wall and the entire world watched, waited. It created a ripple in history that I can feel. Nearly everything I'd seen up until then was, well, old. Which is still great, but maybe not as close.

And that was it for Berlin. Like I said, a very cool city. Lots of history that changed the world. I needed more time. I just need to go back with someone!

Shotgun Cities

My trip out of Italy was the beginning of another shotgun blast of cities: Vienna, Budapest and Prague. I had only a day or two in each city.

The train to Vienna was only slightly better than the train to Venice. This time, we had a sleeper car (but we couldn't put the beds down for some stupid reason!) and a cabin full of people who spoke English! We didn't get much sleep, but we had a good conversation during the ride.

On Vienna: It's hard to talk about Vienna. There aren't a lot of touristy things to do in the city and it's not that big of a stop for visitors. It is, however, someplace that I'd love to live. The city is clean, the people are friendly and there are parks. Oh, there are parks. I spent well over half of my day in Vienna wandering around the sprawling palace gardens and museum parks. It was a cool day, perfect for a stroll. In fact, I didn't do much else BUT that, as there isn't a lot to do for a one day visitor. But it was still nice. That night I went out with a guy from Mexico and an Aussie girl to a travelers bar around the corner from our hostel and had my first ORIGINAL Czech Budweiser. It was delicious!

On Budapest: Buda and Pest (separated by a river, combined by a name) were much the same as Vienna. There aren't many touristy things to see and do, but it is a fun Eastern European city. I was only supposed to be there for an afternoon and then take a train to Krakow, Poland (to visit Auschwitz) but the lady at the information desk gave me the wrong information. So, I missed Auschwitz and spent another day in Budapest. The second day a German and I went on the free walking tour around the city. It took us nearly everywhere that I had been the day before, but provided the history and explanation as well. We were both going back to Vienna that day, so we caught a train at three back to Vienna. He stayed in Vienna, I continued on to Prague.

On Prague: Prague got the best of this rush with two days and three nights. It only got the third night because it was cheaper for me to stay a night in Prague than it was to pay for the night line ticket! So I got to Prague half an hour before midnight had a (cheap) beer and went straight to bed.

The second day I got up and took a free walking tour of the city. It was three hours long and I pretty much seen everything there is to see. The tour guide was great and he left us down the hill from Prague castle, so I finished the tour and walked up the hill to explore the castle. The streets up near the castle were filled with people and shops which ate up the rest of my afternoon and I went back to the hostel for some food and a nap around six.

That night I decided to go on a pub crawl. Fifteen euro to drink and smoke shisha free for an hour and a half, followed by 3 more clubs. It was a good night. For the most part. I spend most of it with two Scottish girls and a guy named Fred who got too wasted to walk. It was good fun until somebody jacked my hat that I bought in Spain, the only souvenir that I have bought for myself this entire trip. I was too drunk and disorderly to get through the bar, so my hat was gone. At the end of the night (four in the morning) the the clubs closed and I walked home with one of the guys who was in charge of the crawl. We had a blast on the walk and he even bought me a cheeseburger from McDonalds!

Since I had basically seen all of Prague the day before (and had a long, long night out) I didn't get up and out of the hostel til nearly one. I wandered down by the riverfront and though some of the small backstreets around the city center. As I was heading back to the hostel, the guy from the pub crawl seen me on the street! I'm not sure what I did to make an impression, but I must've done a good job. I ended up going back on the pub crawl that night for half price, but turned in around two so I could catch a train in the morning to the last country I'll tour on my trip, Germany. Berlin, ho!

Fin Italia

I was sad to see Italy go. Or maybe Italy was sad to see me go. Either way, I'm going to miss it.

My train to Venice was crap. It was a night train with compartments, six people sitting face to face in a very, very cramped space. And nobody spoke English but me. There were a cool, young couple beside me who spoke brokenly and it provided for a good enough conversation, but it was still a bit strained. So I sat through ten hours of hell. And a few more at the end of the trip. The train was supposed to go to Venice SL, the station on the island. However, we stopped at Mestre (the landside station) and the train began going the other way! I ran like hell out of my compartment to find a conductor and was told to get off at the next stop, where I could take a train into Venice SL.

I got into SL at seven in the morning and dropped off my things at the Fish, the hostel I had stayed at previously, and took a walk around town. Venice in the early morning is much different than the rest of the day. The streets and squares are empty and quiet. It's a very peaceful place. I came back at one to make sure I had a place to stay, then grabbed my book and found a secluded, canal-side dead end to sit and read for a few hours. It was needed after that train ride from Napoli, I hadn't slept at all.

The night at the Fish was just as it was last time. I met great people around the dinner table and one of the staff members took us walking around at ten. I think we finally crashed at two, but it was a great night.

My last day in Italy was one of the best. In the morning, I went with two people I had met last night – Freddy and Allison – to St. Mark's and actually went inside the basilica. We arrived back to the hostel just after noon and Allison, Esther (another girl at the Fish) and I wandered the city for the rest of the day. It's always great to have a relaxed day with good people. I said my goodbyes to the Fish crew, Allison walked me to the train station and I boarded a train to Vienna, Austria at nine.

Pizza Place!

I left Rome and arrived in Napoli early in the afternoon. My first impression: SHIT. HOLE. It was by FAR the most disgusting city I had ever seen. Trash and trashy people were everyhwere. The metro was hardly working (because nobody ever paid, I later discovered). The buildings looked like they were falling apart. I was honestly a bit afraid of catching something. Even walking to my hostel in the middle of the afternoon was a bit nerve wracking. Every third person was a shady character.

When I arrived at the hostel, two Aussie guys were cooking pasta and invited me to eat, so I tossed my bags on the bed and ended up spending the afternoon drinking with them and a Mexican girl. My first night in Napoli I had decided I MUST have pizza, so the four of us went out for what has been the cheapest and by far the best pizza I have ever eaten. Three euros for a hand tossed, flame cooked pie. Pizza back home will never compete. We finished up, bought some beers and wasted away the night in a plaza until two in the morning.

My first full day in Napoli wasn't really spent in Napoli. The Aussies, a French girl and I went to Pompei. The ruins of Pompei are a fascinating site, but I'm glad I went with a crowd. I think if I were to have been by myself, I would've been bored in a couple hours. Thankfully, we made the best of the day wandering the entire city and poking fun at the cheesy audio guide. That night, we went out for pizza and beer AGAIN. Unfortunatley, Michele's, the most famous pizza place in all of Napoli, was closed. So we wandered the streets of downtown until we found the next open restaruant. Just like the last time, the pizza was fantastic. And just as cheap. I turned in early that night so I could meet some friends from Rome who were coming down to Napoli to...eat pizza!

I got up early on day two and met my friends at the rail station. Since they were only there for a short while, we walked about while I told them about the city for a bit before we grabbed lunch. The pizza was still great. It wasn't going to get old. My friends left back to Rome and I spent the remainder of the day wandering downtown Napoli before heading back to the hostel for a night of word games with the group from the day before. At about midnight that night, the hostel common room closed so a large group of us went out. We spent an hour in a plaza, another hour talking to an Italian man who was running a beer stand in the middle of the night and a third hour sitting at a metro stop, where we were climbing the tower in the middle of the plaza. Well, we were until one of the guys sliced his hand open. He had to go to the hospital the next day!

The last day in Napoli I went out with a couple Americans to the port. We started off the morning by working our way up the highest point in town to have an overlook then continued down seaside. We paid two euros to see the the last painting Carvaggio ever painted and had one more great pizza, sadly, my last from Naples. It was a very slow day. When we arrived back at the hostel, I and a couple others cooked some pasta for dinner before I took the train to my final Italian stop: Venice, again!

When in Rome...

I showed up in Rome at two in the afternoon, and the hostel wouldn't take a credit card. For such a popular, well known place I was a bit surprised. I had a hell of a time getting cash, too, because a purchase I had made in Florence had put a hold on my account for a substantial sum. It was nearly the second time I was stuck in Italy without access to cash. But, an hour later, I was checked in and ready. I was tired from the previous night out in Florence, so I decided to rest that afternoon and meet people at the hostel.

The place was full of Americans. Which is okay, I had a good afternoon. I just didn't really come to Europe to meet more Americans. Later that night, I and a guy I had met decided to go check out the city at dark. Good choice. Rome is so much more beautiful at night. I got some great shots of myself doing a crappy thriller pose in front of all the famous places!

I woke up early the next morning – before everyone else – and took off by myself. I didn't feel like waiting for everybody else to get up. Rome was too big for two days and three nights already. My first stop was the Colosseum. The line was massive, so I bought a ticket at Palatine Hill and wandered around the Roman Forum for a while before heading down to the amphitheater. Though the Colosseum wasn't as huge as I expected, it was still impressive. The interior was incredibly designed, especially for something that was thousands of years old. The rest of the day was pretty chill. I wandered the Eastern half of the city until nearly eight, did some laundry, took a nap, and woke up again later to go hang out in the Yellow Bar with a Frenchman.

The second day was reserved for Vatican City. I took one of the two metro lines (really, only two metro lines for all of Rome?) over to the square and immediately jumped in line for entry to St. Peter's Basilica. The line must have been two hundred yards long, but I was up to the door in six minutes. I timed it. I was fairly churched out from spending the previous day going through every basilica I passed, but nothing could prepare me for the awe inspired by St. Peter's. It WAS (and still is) the most beautiful church I've seen. And that's saying something. I've seen a stupidly huge number of churches recently. After the basilica, I took a walk through the tombs of the popes. Seeing the place where John Paul II was laid was a fairly intense experience. I always get a chill when I stand in front of the resting place of great people.

Next: the Vatican Museum. I was fairly museumed out, too, and all I really wanted to see was the Sistine Chapel. I wandered through the museum admiring the building when I finally came to the chapel. I need a bigger vocabulary for all the things I've seen, because awesome doesn't work for that little chapel. I sat for half an hour admiring the paintings on the ceiling. And, yes, I took a photo. Even though I wasn't supposed to! After the Vatican, I hit up all the rest of the famous things in West Rome, which is mostly just the Pantheon, the only complete structure from the Roman times still standing. How they could create such a structure back in those days in beyond me.

The night ended with meeting a great girl from New York (who I MUST visit!). We walked to the train station for tickets, spend the night at the bar and crashed in the room around 2. The next morning I spent teaching her how to shop at the supermarket (LOL!) and we walked to the train station together. It was a good, slow paced ending to a rushed two days in Rome.

I NEED MORE TIME!

Now that you're finally (generally) up to date, I'd like to apologize for being so slow. I was going a hundred miles an hour in Barcelona and just picked up speed as I got into Italy. I have time to jot down things in my own personal journal, but that's about it a lot of the time. I think what I'm going to try to do is take mom's advice and update little bits at a time. I can't make any promises, but I know how you all like to "live vicariously through my experinces" (and I love that!) so I'm going to try to keep you all satisfied. It's also nice for me to actually have some sort of story written down. Wish me good luck!

You're Finally Up To Date!

Almost caught up!

When I actually arrived to my hostel in Cinque Terra, it was two o'clock and nobody was there. So I was locked out for half an hour. Luckily, three Spaniards arrived shortly after me and waited with me. We went out and hiked for an hour and a half that night, nearly got fined 200 euros for not getting our one euro fifty train tickets stamped correctly, and watched the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.

The following day was spend with a Californian (who had FiveFingers!) and a girl from Indiana. We did the hike all the way along the coast between the five cities. It was gorgeous and great to be in the outdoors after so much time in the city. I also ran into the two guys that had told me to hump the train to Geneva. Small world!

The second full day in Cinque Terra I spent trying to find a mountain bike (with no success), kayaking half a mile out into the sea to check out the entire coastal view (exhausting and worth every bit of it) and laying on the beach. Finally, a relaxing day.

I stopped in Pisa on my way to Firenze (Italian for Florence). There really is nothing in Pisa but the leaning tower, the duomo and the baptistry, but it was worth a 2 hour day trip. The leaning tower is very cool to actually see in person. And watching all the tourists take photos was hilarious, especially when the cops came ad shooed them off the grass.

And finally, Firenze. I only spent two days (three nights) in Firenze, but it is my favorite city so far. I'm not sure I can pinpoint why, though. There was so much to do. The city was clean and beautiful. Slow paced. The people within the city were wonderfully friendly. I just really, really enjoyed it.

The first night I was there, I didn't do much other than hang out at the hostel. The people there were very fun, and I was tired from a day of travel. When I arrived at the hostel, the host sat down with me and drew out a complete walking map complete with stops, so I spent the first day following the map and it made for good start to Florence. I ate dinner at the hostel and introduced myself to two Africans, one from Zimbabwe and one from South Africa, who I ended up going out with that night. We started the night with a power hour and finished with a 1.75 liter bottle of wine. There are some blank spots and I'm not sure how I got home, but it was a blast.

Day two was spent searching for a wallet for dad, seeing David (which was awe inspiring) and another little church that wasn't on the map. Funny enough, it was my second favorite church that I've seen, only to the cathedral in Toledo. I didn't drink that night because I had a train to catch in the morning, but the Africans and I went out again with a few others and had a ball again. My time in Firenze was just wonderful.

And that brings me to today. I woke up this morning, missed the 6:45 and 7:15 trains, then caught the 9:15 to Rome. I'm currently sitting in front of my hostel, The Yellow, chatting with a bunch of other hostelers and deciding upon how I'm going to traverse Rome.

Catch me on Skype so I can fill you in on everything that I didn't include. Ciao!

Welcome to Italy (Part 2)

Milano was actually a very boring city. There wasn't much to do except go to the Duomo and the shopping district. Thankfully, I had a Californian girl I met the night I arrived that wandered with me. She helped me shop around for a purse for my mother and accompanied me to the Duomo, a very beautiful building that clashes with the rest of Milan. While we were shopping, we found a crowd of people waiting (what is it with me and finding crowds?) for the AC Milan futbol team to arrive at their official Milan store. They were releasing their new jersey design! We didn't get to see the team, but it was a fun experience and I got a photo with the team bus.

The next day I left for Venice and made a day stop in Verona, famous for the house of Capulet of Shakespeare's tale “Romeo and Juliet.” I wished I had actually stayed a night in Verona, it was a very beautiful city and had some neat things to see. There just weren't any hostels. As I was searching for the Roman amphitheater that was supposed to be there (which was very small)n meet an English family and spent the day trading stories with them about life in the US and England. I absolutely love when I get to do that!

I arrived in Venice that evening just in time for dinner. The hostel I was in was great because they served a dinner, which meant the entire hostel was there at half past seven to sit and chat in the common room. We (ten of us or so) played some drinking games after and went to wander about the city. I enjoyed my first night in Venice so much that I decided to stay another night. It went pretty well the same, just with a new set of people! There were to guys in particular, a Dutchman, Wouter, and a German, Eric, I hung out with for most of the day and night. that I'm going to try very hard to make a stop back in Venice on my way up to Prague.

I had decided that I couldn't come to and skip the famous Italian auto factories, so I proceeded to Bologna for a night and Modena for three. My hostel in Bologna was actually outside the city, and I was nearly stranded the next morning. I didn't have change for a bus ticket, so I just stole a ride. Travel kind of forces you to do these things. Approached the train station to find ANOTHER crowd (WTF!) celebrating some anniversary of Bologna. I watched that and wandered the city for a while before taking my train to Modena.

Remember, Modena was supposed to be a chill period. I ended up being just as active there as I was previously, just without the nightlife. Oh, I also had a bit of a mental breakdown due some events I found about back home, but I'm okay. It made for some interesting alone time, though. I got up the first day and went to visit Galleria Ferrari (the Ferrari factory) in nearby Maranello, was out all day and explored Modena city center that night. The second day I took a bus to the Lamborghini Gallery. While I was there, I ran into two amazing people from DC who ended up taking me with them to a Pagani factory tour, a traditional balsamic vinegar distillery tour and pretty much paid for my afternoon. Kyle and Olivia made that day one of the best of my trip. I hope I meet more people as awesome as them. When I get back home, I'm going to send them cash for a night out on me. I had a fantastic day and want to return them the favor.

After Modena, took a train to Cinque Terra national park.

Welcome to Italy

Hi. I know I've been sucking at updating my blog lately. I'm sorry. I've been in Italy for a while now and there is so much to see and do that I barely have time to sit down and write. Even when I was in Modena – a city which was supposed to be a three night resting period – I was constantly busy. Wake up at eight, spend the day out and about til eight or nine and come back. It ended up being 3 days of just not going out at night, which didn't really help. But it was still really, really cool.

So I'm going to start with Barcelona and hit up the main points of what I've been doing for the last couple weeks. It might take a couple entries, I try to keep them no longer than a page.

Barcelona is well known for being a party city and I didn't waste a night I was there. I arrived in the city at nearly eleven, took a half hour nap, then walked across the street with a couple of guys from DC to La Ramblas – main street and the center of the nightlife. We started off playing pool with some Germans at an Irish pub and took off at two when the bar closed. The only things that were still open were the “discos” (that's a dance club) that charged absurd amounts of money to enter. It worked out alright though, one of the German guys covered everybody's entry fee. It was a good time and I was even offered a trip to the bathroom by a very, very creepy, raccoon-eyed cross dresser.

I spent my first day wandering around the city and ran into a guy from Honduras that I had spent two hours in line with at the train station. The second night we went out to watch the magic fountain show, a huge water and light show held every weekend in the summer, but had no luck as it was canceled for the day. Later that night we went to a jam session in a bar a ways off La Ramblas. It was amazing to see the musical talent of the crowd in action.

The last day I was in Barcelona was pretty damn good as well. I got up early to go explore the beach and Park Guell, a park designed entirely by a famous Spanish architect called Gaudi. I hiked an hour and a half (at a very slow pace) up to the top of a hill beyond the park for a beautiful overlook of the city and the surrounding country. Well worth it. When I got back to the hostel, I met a seventeen year old kid from Lawrence. How awesome is that? Another Kansan! We discovered that the fountain show had been canceled due to the opening of the European Athletic Championships that night. There was a special, extra huge fountain show to be held at ten and the other Kansan, two Aussie guys and I went (along with 30,000 others) to watch the opening ceremony and show.

I had planned to sleep at the train station that night because my train was going to leave at eight the following morning. Unfortunately, the station closed at midnight and I received at tap on the head at ten til from the man telling me to leave. I wandered around for an hour before finally accepting help from a pink-shirted man on a street corner (this is a BIG rule to break as a backpacker, I probably should've been stabbed or mugged) who happened to be French street artist who worked on La Ramblas. He walked me around the city to find a place to stay and the night was good.

The next morning, I met the Aussie guys on at the train station and we ended up humping a train to Geneva,, some advice given to us by two Americans we met for ten minutes or so on the train. I made it to Milano that night.

New Blog

I've learned a lot in three weeks on the road. So much that I think I need to write it down. So I'm starting a new blog called "Pack Left: Things I've learned to help you pack RIGHT!" This blog is just going to be a huge list of the things that I think will help make people (myself included) better travelers and vacationers. I'm going to post every rule as a different post, so there will be twenty-odd posts popping up here soon. Take a look and let me know what you think!

A day with the LEGEND (Alonso)

Yes, he is a legend. Now:

I couldn't get off the platform at Castellon.

That kind of ruined the picturesqe hug I had planned on when I seen Isaias Alonso for the first time in half a decade. I walked up the stairs to the exit, seen Alonso and his girlfriend approaching and walked straight into the glass gate! Apparently I was supposed to have a train pass to scan to get out, but since I was traveling via EuRail, I had to actually get checked out. So, the railway guy let me out and THEN I got my epic hug! I can't express how great it was to see Alonso's smile! We took a few photos and walked back to his place.

Now, I know he's going to read this, so I want to be clear, I'm not just talking him up!

The hospitality I had was wonderful, I couldn't have asked for more and I see Mr. Alonso as a friend now, more than a former teacher. He arranged for my laundry, internet access and everything else I needed, and asked what I wanted for dinner. I had yet to experience a traditional Spanish meal and that sounded good for the night. A delicious Spanish meal is exactly what he made for me; it was the best thing I've eaten this entire trip! (Though I may be a be just a little biased, as I haven't eaten as much as normal for the past few weeks. Either way, it was incredibly good!) He even opened up a special bottle of wine for me – totally uncalled for – and a friend of his joined us shortly after dinner. We talked and caught up all night before going to bed late in the night. It was one of the best nights I've had the entire trip. Probably one of the best nights I will have. (Thanks, Isaias!)

I slept very well that night, until nine the next morning. Having a good bed does that. I arose for yet another giant meal put together by Alonso. All sorts of breakfast foods and some Spanish sausage for the calories I'd burn while walking around Barcelona (though, I didn't end up in Barcelona til late that night). I packed my things and we walked down to the train station to try and catch the 11:45 train to Barcelona. The train was full until six, however, but Mr. Alonso and his girlfriend were happy to spend the rest of the day guiding me around downtown Castellon. We were still talking and catching up the entire time (lots can happen in five years!), it made me realize how important it is to keep up with old friends, as well as how important it is to visit them. (On a side note, I'll be starting another blog soon to include these things I've learned about travel. I'll keep you posted.)

Around two, after our tour of the city, we had worked up an appetite. I was then treated to the best Chinese food I had ever eaten around the corner from Alonso's apartment. It was an upscale place that served meals in tapas stye: huge plates to be shared amongst the table. Just two plates was more than I could eat! We finished up and headed back for a nap before I left.

As we walked toward the station nearing six and as with all the rest of the cities and places I have visited, I was not yet ready to leave. Especially so since I had a real friend this time (well, old friend – I've made plenty of real friends along the way) who was so welcoming. It's one of the best feelings I've ever had to see somebody I know on the road, made even better for half a decade of his absence.

Thank you for a fantastic day, Señor Alonso! Whatever wild city I land in years from now, I hope you come visit me so I can return the favor!

Are you SURE this isn't Hawaii?

I stepped off the train into Valencia Nord at half past noon on the 22nd. The first thing I noticed was the ceiling of the station. People had told me to look up, so of course, I did. The ceiling was beautiful. I didn't look for long, though, nor did I take any photos. I had very little time in Valencia, so I took straight off to the hostel. The first thing I noted out the door was the giant bullring to the right, which I would be going to later that evening. I had missed the one in Madrid; I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to see a bullfight in Spain.

As I walked into the main square, I had an intense feeling of deja vu. It felt like Hawaii! There were tall, beautiful buildings standing upon spotless streets, fountains of all sizes and tropical greenery everywhere. It was a second Waikiki. I continued across the square, in awe of the grandeur of the place and found my hostel, tucked in a back alley. The hostel had good ratings, but I didn't feel initially comfortable walking home down a lonely back alley at night. Southern Spain was far from the safest place to be. Fortunately, the staff in the hostel were very helpful and friendly, even going so far as to write me out a route of the best things to see in Valencia on a day trip.

This time, I had no guided tour. Back to exploring! I went directly to the market (which was the primary interest point of the staff girl) and was shocked. This was nothing like the “market” in Madrid. Housed in a century old building, there were vendors selling fresh fruits, meats and more EVERYWHERE! Best of all, it was dirt cheap! I loaded up on some fruit for a couple euros and had my food for the afternoon. I wandered around the city all after afternoon, seeing everything there was to see (which included a photo request from two “hobos” and tons of gorgeous graffiti). Valencia, though it is full of people, is only half an hour's walk across the city center. Outside of that it is very drab.

I arrived back at the hostel at five to cool off before my bullfight and left to get tapas before the show at 6:30. Once again, the hostess didn't speak English, so I resorted to pointing at signs to get what I wanted.

The bullfight was at seven. I approached the stadium to see a crowd of animal rights protesters engulfed by the people flowing into the stadium. I made my way past them and settled in my seat. The bullfight started with all kinds of music and cheering as the six matadors pranced into the ring. This was going to be awesome!

Little did I know what I had paid to see.

There were six fights, all of which were very similar. It began with a bull being released into the ring amongst the six matadors. Two padded horses would come into the ring, provoke the bulls to charge, and the riders would stab the bulls in the back. The performing fighter would then proceed to stab the bull with six colorful harpoons, followed by the dance. At the end of the fight, the matador would plunge a sword into the back of the bull, killing it. The crowd would cheer like wild and the matador would accept hats, flowers and gloves as he walked around the ring.

Gruesome, tormenting and definitely not something I'd go see often, if ever again. Two hours of bullfighting was enough of a Spanish experience for me, so I returned to my hostel to spend the evening talking with a couple of guys from (none other than!) the Netherlands.

I slept in late the next morning and arose to wander over to the art and science complex Valencia is so famous for. It was quite a walk along the park, but well worth it. The park in Valencia is a former river, dried up and converted. It runs through the north part of the city and the largest park I have ever seen! I finally arrived to a breathtaking view of the arts and sciences complex and wandered around for an hour or so. The prices were a bit high for me, so seeing the amazing architecture would suffice.

I continued on to the beach and hung out for a while (seeing more kinds of boobs than I ever wanted to) and boarded the train to Castellon at six.

So a bunch of random guys walk into a bar...

My third day in the Spanish capital was decidedly chill.

I had yet to actually see the city, so I rolled out of bed for the free tour at 11:15. This one was not a New Europe Free tour and it was free for a reason. Our tour guide wasn't all that great, but following her around for an a few hours did give me an opportunity to see all the sights of the city. I even got some free cookies from some nuns!

The tour walked us back to hostel by about two and I spent a good portion of the afternoon chatting with several of the people Id met the night before. I had spent so much time partying in Madrid that spending time in a place that felt like home with friends was very enjoyable. After a while on the road alone, you need to recoup for a day.

At five, Frenchie and I decided we wanted to take a trip to the public pool. We rounded up Kinero and the remaining two of the three Germans and headed out. It was a relaxing way to spend the afternoon and there was never a dull moment with the company I had. When we left, Kinero discovered his money had been stolen (AGAIN! This poor guy had the worst luck in Madrid.) from his bag. We searched around a bit, with no luck, and headed home.

There was to be no going out for the night. I was leaving for Valencia at 8:45 the following morning and the Germans were heading for Barcelona just as early. We packed our things up and left around ten for some food and a couple of one euro beers. But the bar was full, so we settled for kebaps. It was the first time I had ever had a kebap. I can't figure out why they don't have them back home. They're cheap and very good. Kind of like a pita, but better. We spent the walk back telling people on the street we were homosexual Muslims when they tried to get us into the clubs and bars (which was hilarious), said our goodbyes, and hit the sack.

I'm going to miss Madrid.

Holy Toledo!

My second day in Madrid wasn't even spent in Madrid. Myself and eight other guys had decided the previous night to take trip to Toledo, the former Spanish capital.

Our group was an mix of culture: four Americans (one of which was from Mexico), three Germans, a guy from Portugal and Frenchie. Myself, Kinero, Forrest and George made up the American portion. I've already mentioned Kinero, Forrest was a traveler from Texas who had spent a year in Brazil and George was a half Mexican flight attendant who had taken a spur of the moment trip to Madrid because it only cost him $36. The three Germans were just as fun. Very smart guys who were just traveling for the party. The Portuguese man didn't speak much and then, there was Frenchie. I cannot begin to aptly describe this guy in my blog, my keyboard would wear out before I finished.

After our previous night, we managed to grab a bus at noon and arrived in Toledo at one. What a city! Honestly, there isn't much in Toledo. Actually, beyond the age and the famous cathedral, there's nothing. Fortunately, these two things and my new found friends made the day the great. We had no map of the city, so most of the day was spent wandering aimlessly trying to find the attractions we were searching for. The first thing we found was the library tower.

We asked a local tour guide for directions, we discovered that the public library tower, which provides a beautiful view of the city, was not open to tourists. So we split ourselves into three groups and paraded into the library as “students” looking for “books.” And it worked. We took the elevator to the cafe at the top of the tower to find a gorgeous view of the old city and the surrounding Spanish hillside.

The international circus paraded down the tower and over to the Catholic cathedral, the main attraction of Toledo. Entry was seven euros, so Forrest and I were the only two who decided to go in. I'm so glad I did. This church was by far the most beautiful I had ever seen. The art and detail surpassed that of Notre Dame and Sacre Cour combined and there was still more. Huge stone sculptures. Entire murals carved from wood. Gold gilded decor. Paintings eight stories tall. It was worth every cent.

We ended our trip to Toledo with trip up another church tower and a cheap dinner and headed home.

When we got back to the hostel at seven, I needed to do laundry. I sent the rest of the group out without me. I told them I'd catch up when my laundry was done. However, I couldn't locate them in the bar they had went to, so I went back to the hostel. Thankfully, they came back to get me! We drank around the hostel bar for a while and decided to go out with the Cat's pub crawl at one. Two bars and one club kept us up until 5 that morning, but as long as Madrid was going this good, I didn't need sleep!

Spanish Guitar in the Moonlight

My arrival in Madrid was not too bad. The train pulled into Chamartin Station just before two in the afternoon on the 19th and I was still exhausted from the previous night – I don't think I'm ever going to get used to sleeping on night trains. I walked into the station with a friend I had met on the train, Eric, from Chicago, who was studying Spanish in Spain for a month. Having a fluent speaker along side as well as my own knowledge of the language made navigating the terminal much easier than in France. Unfortunately, he was not staying at the same hostel as I, and was headed back to the states the following morning. We had a late lunch and parted ways.

My next task was to book two trains to Valencia and Barcelona. Once again, the waiting lines were a nightmare. Nearly an hour and a half, just to book a ticket! On top of that, when my number was finally called, the man at the desk didn't speak English. Not that he should, I mean, I'M the one in Spain. But a bilingualism at a major train station is reasonable, isn't it? Thankfully, booking a train ticket doesn't require communicating much more information than days, locations and general times, so it wasn't too much of an issue. I walked out of the station with my two tickets and took the metro to my hostel. Thanks to my practice in Paris, I'm never going to have a problem with metro systems again! Even if I can't speak the language!

Cat's hostel, the cheapest one in the city, was awesome. In fact, I think I'm going to have a hard time finding a better place to stay than I have in Madrid. I walked up to see scaffolding all over the front of the building, however, the inside was another story. The building used to be a small, 18th century palace and was even on the national monument registry! It was beautiful!

Still exhausted, I sat down in the common room next to a guy on the couch who looked like he had just arrived as well. Turns out he hadn't, he'd just returned from the hospital. His name was Kinero and he had been mugged at four in the morning the night before. This came as a bit of a shock to me, because on the train to Irun (halfway between Paris and Madrid) I had met a couple who had their bikes stolen in Barcelona! I was beginning to feel unsafe in Spain. We sat around for a while and chatted with some other people that were staying in the hostel and eventually went to get food.

A small group of people were going to the “market” for dinner and cheap sounded good. It wasn't quite what I was expecting. I was strolling through the streets looking for some giant farmer's market. Instead, our group came upon a glass walled building. THIS was the market. THIS was MY kind of market! Inside were all kinds of vendors selling all variety of bits to eat for a euro or two. I had a five course meal for five euros that might have been the best thing(s) I've eaten.

We returned to the hostel to decide plans for the night. There were a couple of girls who had went with us to dinner who were leaving Spain tomorrow, so a night out was in order. Bars seemed a bit expensive, so we got creative. Elliot – a very...interesting...Parisian known from now on as Frenchie – came up with the wonderful idea of playing guitar and drinking in Sol Square! The idea couldn't have turned out better, I had a wonderful night scaring away the citizens with our awful music! We ended the night by going to a club around two, doing a round of karaoke and heading home. It doesn't get much better than that!

Paris and the Train to Spain

I'm going to keep this one short because I'm kind of blogged out on Paris. You can check out the photos!

I did three things on my last day in Paris:
1. Andrea the Canadian and I went up to the top of Notre Dame
2. We parted and I went to visit the Latin Quarter
3. After the Latin Quarter I went back up to Montmarre

I ended up back at the hostel before dinner to pick up my things and they were kind enough to let me stay for dinner since my train didn't go out until eleven. It was one of those "hang out with the hostel" nights that I'm starting to enjoy. There are so many cool people to meet!

Anywho, I got on the train to Spain at 11 and was off to Madrid!

Paris, Part Four: A New Friend

Day four of Paris was much more relaxed than the previous few.

In fact, the only thing I had planned was to get up and go visit Jim Morrison's grave, but it turned into another day of wandering the city with Nadine, the 30 year old from Australia. After spending the previous three days primarily alone in the City of Light, an entire day with another person to talk to was a welcome event.

We arrived at the cemetery early that morning, expecting to go in and out very quickly. That didn't happen. It was the biggest cemetery I've ever seen. Well, not quite the biggest, but certainly the hardest to navigate. French cemeteries (famous ones, anyway) aren't quite like the ones back home. The first thing you notice is all the buildings. Rather than individual graves, there are family plots. There are the occasional single stones, which is what we went to see.

First on the list was Morrison's grave. You can see in the photos that it wasn't much, very minimal...I was unimpressed. Oscar Wilde's headstone was another story. His was more of a headBOULDER. Covered in lipstick kisses. I'm not really sure why, but it was pretty cool.

After we left the cemetery, Nadine and I revisited many of the things I had seen the previous few days, which I've already talked about. That's really about it for the day. We were out all day and she left at eight for London!

Paris, Part Three: A Good Night

My second real day in Paris began with the Louvre. The couple from St. Louis had told me to use the metro entrance, which I did, and I was able to walk right in at ten. I had arranged to do a walking tour at one, so I only had a few hours to check out the museum. Once again, not nearly enough. I opted to see the most famous pieces and went directly to the Mona Lisa. Honestly, the fiasco around her was more impressive than she was, herself. Here's how it went: directly in front of the painting was a very thick pane of bulletproof glass, which caused a bit of a glare. Three feet in front of that, was a large wooden barricade. Another fifteen feet beyond that was where people finally stood behind yet another barricade. So much for a close look. I waited my turn to get a good photo and continued to wander the labyrinth. I had not realized that the museum was formerly a palace and spent more time investigating the building itself than the artwork inside before leaving.

My free tour started at the Fountain of Saint Michel. Although I had already seen many of the sights on the tour, it was one of the best I've been on. Especially for being free. The tour guide was very excited about the city and its history and was very informal, which made for a much more comfortable tour. Even pointed out a few things I hadn't seen, such as a well known English bookstore known for housing people that can't afford a place to stay. The tour lasted three and half hours and ended at the Obelisk, a 3000 year old gift from Egypt at the end of the Champs de Elysse. I decided to wander up the street to the Arch de Triumph.

The street was lined with the most expensive places in Paris. Eats, shops, banks, you name it. The Nike Paris store even had the bike that Lance Armstrong rode during his first race back on the bike. Peugot had an entire storefront with super futuristic concept cars. Louis Vuitton had an entire building! And at the end of the street was the Arch de Triumph.

You can't imagine the size of this military monument until you've been there. Huge does not cut it. Massive does not cut it. It is the largest single monument I have ever seen. Though it's not really that interesting, the sheer size of the thing made me hang around for a while and watch the traffic chaos going on around. (It's surrounded by a 12 lane roundabout without lines!)

My last stop for the day was the Eiffel Tower. Aside from being the most well known monument in the world, this monstrous structure was even more impressive than the Arc de Triumph. I was not at all expecting what I approached. It was a wonder of engineering. Made entirely of iron, the first level towered over my head. The top of the tower is higher than Sacre Cour. I stood in awe for a while before heading home, the happiest I'd been since I'd arrived in Paris.

At dinner, I discovered one of the girls, Nadine, (ha...girl. She had just turned 30) was leaving Paris the next night and wanted to go out. We rushed to find some wine to drink for the night, but everything was already closed. As we were sitting around the table, another girl, Andrea, (32 this time) suggested that we go up the Eiffel Tower at night. Neither Nadine or I had done this (I was actually going to skip it) but it sounded like a better idea than sitting around, so that's where the three of us went.

I can't believe I had considered not walking up the Eiffel Tower at night. The lighting on the structure was amazing, it gave me a true view of the beauty of the architecture. We took tons of photos of ourselves, the tower and the city. Paris at night is quite a view. There are no high rise buildings, so you can see down every little century old street. To top it all off, I was able to experience it with new friends, welcome after spending the last couple days by myself. I'm not sure I wanted to leave Paris.

Paris, Part Two: Finally, A Friendly Place

Waking up the next morning didn't help my mood. There were only two showers in the whole place and they weren't even on my floor. And they sucked. I survived my shower without getting any odd foot infections, grabbed my things and got the heck out. Goodbye, Aloha Hostel. I had received instructions on how to get to my next place via HostelWorld, so I grabbed a metro and went. The second hostel, a South Korean run place, was on the Southern outskirts of the city. I managed to find the street it was on (without a map!) but the address given was wrong. Luckily, the girl that lived across the street seen be staring blankly and asked if I needed help. IN ENGLISH! I guess she'd seen a lot of backpackers and knew what to do. My place was right across the street from where I was standing.

I walked in to a friendly welcome from the girl who was in charge and she gave me my room and sheets. However, I was five Euros short of what I owed her for the stay and there wasn't an ATM anywhere near. She asked if I was going into the city, which I was, and told me to bring the money back that night. So I set out to explore Paris.

It didn't take long to gain command of the Paris metro. For its size, it is very easy to use. I rode the hour up to Montmarre, the “red light district” if you will, in the Northern part of the city. As I walked up the stairs to street level, a smile broke. I was standing face to face with the Moulin Rouge! I snapped a few photos and wandered off to find the next item on my list for the day, Sacre Cour. It took a little longer than expected to find the legendary church, but along the way I ran into another which was also beautiful, so I won't complain. When I seen the huge stairway, I knew I had arrived.

The trek up the stairs was a long one. Sacre Cour is the second highest point in the city, only to the top of the Eiffel Tower. The church is beautiful on its own. However, the real treat on the hill was the overlook of the city. It is so far North that, looking out, you can see the entire city and every single monument and attraction there. I spent about an hour at Sacre Cour and decided to head South to the Louvre. It took me an hour and a half to get there.

I didn't actually arrive directly to the Louvre, I had gotten lost again and ended up walking up to the garden in front of it, which was a nice treat. It was a very controlled and perfect garden, which was fitting for the grandeur of the Louvre. Another smile broke when I caught glimpse of the giant glass pyramid. These are my favorite moments, when I see a monument that I recognize. It's so surreal.

By that time, I had been walking all day and was exhausted. I headed down the street to the last stop on my adventures for the day, Notre Dame. This cathedral has been the most impressive structure I have seen to date. It took 200 years to build, and I understand why. It's sheer size was awe inspiring, the art was just the knockout punch. Not a single statue or pane of glass in that church was the same. Every single one was unique. Even inside the church, the effect was the same. Gorgeous art, gorgeous architecture.

I stopped at a fancy French restaurant for the fancy French dinner I wanted (which was amazing, it's good to have real food occasionally) and headed home. Everybody at my hostel was very friendly. So I ended up spending the rest of the evening sharing a communal guitar with a South Korean guy and a Finnish guy. My nights in Paris were slowly getting better!

Paris, Part One: I hate Paris

Four nights, five days in Paris. Long story short, I don't think it was enough. This feeling is starting to be recurrent.

When I awoke to catch my train out of Rotterdam, it seemed that my bad luck had not ended. The first train, to Rotterdam Centraal, was late. I managed to board, slightly freaking out about missing my next train OUT of Roterdam. However, when I arrived at Centraal, the train to Brussels was running twenty minutes late as well! I was standing on the platform talking to a couple Dutch businessmen when we realized that our train was now thirty minutes late. Shortly after, a message came over the intercom informing us that the train was not coming, but another had been adjusted to our desitnation and would be arriving on a different platform shortly. Wonderful. Now I just had to worry about missing the next leg, as I had to catch four different trains that day.

Thankfully, I caught the next train and my troubles ended there. I arrived in Antwerpen to find several other backpackers waiting for my train, turns out that the line I was directed on was a common backpacker line since no reservations were required. Near Lille de Flanders station in France, I met a couple guys from Detroit heading my way. We ended up eating a DELICIOIUS six euro crepe from the restaruant across the road from the station and ran back to catch our next train.

We finally arrived in Paris – Gare de Nord at seven twenty that evening. Nothing like an eight our day train! I stepped off the train into a giant, packed station. I had seen it in the movies, but it was still amazing. Immediatley, we went to book tickets to our next city. The desk clerk informed me that the next night train out of Paris to Madrid was not available until the 18th! Well. Looks like I was staying in Paris a few days longer than expected. Did I mention that by that point I already hated it?

Yes, hated. In such a huge city international business city, they used French and ONLY French. Even the people that claimed to speak English weren't that good. Not to mention the city was HUGE. And the French have a horrible reputation for being rude and unhelpful. I was terrified. I booked my ticket and went to find the metro. I had already recieved a huge city map from the EuRail girl, but I couldn't find anything about where my hostel was. I learned soon how ineffecient maps are in this city. The man at the metro information desk was very helpful, though, and gave me a metro map with directions on how to find my stop. When I arrived at the station near my hostel was when I really started to get upset.

The street I was on wasn't even on my map. Everything should have been on that thing, it was massive! I was so lost that I ended up having to ask for directions again. Which still weren't much help, but they got me there. After trying to find the spot on the map, I realized that there are so many streets in Paris, you'll never have a detailed map. It would be too big to carry easily. So I was stuck in the biggest city in an unfriendly country where nobody spoke fluent English with a map that isn't even complete. Excuse my French, but fuckin' great.
The people at my hostel weren't even very friendly. It was supposedly one of the best hostels in the city, too. I dropped off my things and decided to catch a view of the Eiffel tower at night, It was supposed to be a close walk. I somehow managed to find a street on my map and began to follow it to the tower. Coming from Amsterdam, I had learned to disregard walking signals and just go when there was an opportunity. I had just run a red light and heard a familiar language behind me say, “This guy looks must know what he's doing, let's just follow him!” I turned, smiled and said, “That may not be the best idea, I'm pretty well lost!” The couple were from St. Louis. They were on their way to the tower, too. We walked and chatted and eventually came upon a crowd nearing the size of the Orange in Amsterdam. I had (against all odds and unknowingly) arrived in Paris on Bastille Day. The most important national holiday in France! What awaited me that night was completely unexpected and completly lucky.

The tower was beautifully lit when we took our place. At eleven, the whole park went dark, including the tower. But the fireworks, oh the fireworks. It was the largest and longest show I've ever seen. Watching the constant explosions beyond the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower was incredible. Near the end of the show, the tower did somthing I didn't expect. It strobed. Thousands of tiny strobe lights lit upon the tower, making it shimmer among the fire and night. I was awestruck. Maybe I was going to like Paris after all.

Stress (Part Two)

Go back and read part one. Now.

I woke up this morning bright and early to check out at 10am. After waking Kate down to the AH for some toothpaste, we went our seperate ways. They wanted to see the Van Gogh, but I wasn't interested in the line. The line for the Heineken Expereince was much shorter. I had some of the freshest beer I've ever had (all while learning of the Heineken history!) and headed North to find my train. By this time it was three and my train wasn't scheduled to leave until nearly five, so I took my time to explore the downtown. Eventually I ran into a huge crowd of people waiting by one of the canals, turns out they were waiting for the soccer team to return home! I watched them go by on their fancy decked out boat and walked to the train station.

That's when the stress started.

At half past four, I found out that I had to take a DIFFERENT train to Rotterdam in order to connect at Brussels. I fretted about for a bit, but finally found the right train. I sat down beside three Egyptians who were traveling, and a couple Dutch guys. We were fifteen minutes out of Amsterdam, almost to the airport Shipol, when the cable broke.

The train system here in the Netherlands has two "rails" if you will. The rail it rides on, and the electrical cable that runs above the train to supply power. There was a loud SNAP followed by a few crashing sounds.

Immediately people dove for the center of the train. The loose cable was being whipped about the train wildly and we had no brakes or electricity. Wonderful. The train eventually slowed to a stop, but we were not allowed to get off. Apparently, the outside of the train was charged with 50,000 volts of train power. I was going to miss my train to Paris. So the Dutchmen, Egyptians and I made friends for a couple hours. When we were finally allowed to remove ourselves from the train, no other trains were going in or out of Shipol. The railway had had to ground the electrical wire because they couldn't get it to shut down. Luckily one of the Dutchmen lived outside Rotterdam and offered to give me a ride.

Mind you, this man had no idea who I was or where I was headed. But, he was awesome enough to give me a ride to Rotterdam Central, offer me advice on what to do with my now wasted train ticket to Paris and ask for absolutley nothing in return. We had a great conversation on the 45 minute car ride to Rotterdam, I learned a lot about Holland. I wish everybody on this planet was as awesome as that man, he deserves way more than he took for his help.

At Rotterdam, I was able to retrieve a refund for my train ticket, but there were no other HiSpeed rails to Paris for the next three days. I opted to take the slow day train to Paris tomorrow. I was (am) stuck in Rotterdam. Now I had to find a place to sleep.

The information booth at the train station was unhelpful, so I ended up asking a police officer (with the same watch as me!) for advice on where to sleep. He had the perfect place for me to go, where I am now. A sharp little hostel (you'll see photos, it's the cubey- yellow place) one train stop away from Rotterdam Central at Rotterdam Blaak.

What is it with the Duch being so nice? I LOVE IT!

Okay, I've been writing for nearly an hour now, and I'm sick of it. Remember to ask me more about it when you talk to me. It's quite the amazing experience to be stranded in a city you've barely heard of with nobody you can call for help. I'm sure I can talk for a while. But my fingers are done typing.

Talk to you in Paris!

Stress

That's the first thing that happens when you miss your train to Paris.

I'm lucky the last 2 days have been awesome. It helps counter things a bit.

Let's start from when I left off yesterday.

I actually typed my previous blog from the lobby of my Amsterdam hostel while I was waiting for the hosts to replace the sheets on the bed I was supposed to have. I eventually gave up waiting when the Colorado duo - Alex and Kaitlyn - showed up downstairs. I tossed my stuff in the room and we took off. Destination: FOAM. The photography museum! Rain was starting to fall as we walked out the door, so we opted to walk instead of ride bikes. I had a good idea of where it was, anyways, so I volunteered to lead the way. Twenty minutes, no problem.

Two hours later, we arrived at FOAM. It really is a twenty minute walk, I swear. It just takes longer when you get lost along the way, stop every ten meters for photos and investigate every coffee shop along the way (searching for space cake, of course)!

The museum itself was impressive. But I don't think you'd care if you're not a photographer, so I'll leave out my ooohs and aaahs. Suffice to say there is some amazing stuff in photo museums.

After FOAM, the next best place was the Van Gogh museum. This time, we made the walk in much better time, stopping only once to eat our space cake under a tree in the park. While avoiding more rain. We continued on to the musuem to find a very upsetting, very HUGE line. Typical. Next stop, AlbertHeijn (the grocery) and hostel. I left Alex and Kate to nap while I went to Amsterdam Central to book a train to Paris (yes, the one I missed) and rent a bike.

So, I hopped on the tram. Everything was perfectly fine and dandy until I reached central. There was a four hour wait for the ticket window. Take a number. Wait. Wait. Wait some more. An hour and a half into my queue, I decided to go get a bike. As I stood up, I quickly found out that the space cake had kicked in. Two hours later than expected. Bike rental was going to be a blast! I walked down the block and into the bike shop five minutes before they closed. Turns out the guy who was helping me knew a lot about Kansas. If only I were sober enough to care. I somehow managed to learn the incredibly complex locking mechanism (or so it seemed at the time) and got my bike. Back to waiting. After finally making it to the ticket window, I was told that the train from Amsterdam to Paris was booked out, so I opted for a stop in Brussles followed by a HiSpeed train to Paris.

And, hours after I had left the hostel, I began the bike ride back. Thank God I was de- stoned by that time, because I took the wrong street back. Have you ever looked at a map of Amsterdam? THERE IS NO METHOD. I ended up in Leidsplein, the shopping district I had eaten at two nights ago, and eventually found my way back to the hostel.

To turn right around and head back downtown. This time it was much more entertaining, we were headed to the Red Light District. I took a few photos, which you can see via my photo link. It was everything you'd expect, with more dildos than you can ever imagine. I even got yelled at by a girl for having my camera pointed the wrong direction! We headed back to the hostel again and met some other American travlers in the lobby. This called for a celebration! A celebration like wandering to our curch stoop and smoking some more. I'm not sure how anybody in Amsterdam gets anything done. After our smoke, I went back to the hostel and passed out.

I've never felt so un-American.

Or so Dutch.

My last day and a half in Amsterdam have been incredible. When I last left off, I was sitting in Museumplein, I believe. Shortly after I finished writing, I took a trip to the Dutch fashion block just East of the park. After perusing the street and deciding that I didn't have near enough money to even go in any of the stores, I went to find dinner. That odd looking piece of pie in my photo album is what I ate. Spinach and mozzarella, topped with a tomato wedge. Believe it or not, it was delicious. Then it started to rain. I made my way back to Hotel Jenson (where I am staying) just as the downpour started. By that time it was 9 o'clock or so and when I walked in to my dorm EVERYBODY was there.

I was very lucky with roomies, I think. Two were from New York, two more from Colorado. We were hoping to go out, but by 11 o'clock the rain had still not stopped. To the liquor store! Which was closed. We tossed around the idea of going to the Red Light District, but the ride was too long in the rain. In the end, the Coloradans (?) and I decided to wander around the streets and smoke. (Yes, THAT kind of smoke. When in Amsterdam...) As we began to wander, the rain slowed to a pleasant drizzle. We took a seat on a nifty porch to go through our first, and found a coffee shop for the second. By the time the "coffeeshop" closed at one in the morning, hunger was a serious issue. I had not yet been to Bulldog's (the local dealing store) or Vondelpark so we decided to walk that direction to find food. At two, we came up to a very busy little place across from the Hard Rock Amsterdam that had the most delicious fries I've ever eaten. Though, in hindsight that could've been the effects and hunger. We took an hour and a half wandering back to the hotel, and I passed out at four. It was a wonderful night!

I woke up at nine the following morning to go find another hostel. When I had booked Hotel Janson, the booking site had listed Sunday night as full. I found out that morning that it wasn't. My second hostel, Euphemia Hotel was only a kilometer or two away, so it wasn't so bad. I showed up at half past ten to find out that my room was not yet ready, and there was no place to do my laundry, so I was forced to walk around the block to do wash my clothes in a laundromat while they readied my room. On the plus side, that hostel had in room Wi-Fi, so I was able to say hi to mom and dad for a while. Then I slept.

Only for about an hour, though. Sunday was a busy day. I had one of the most incredible experiences I've ever had. There is NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING that can compare to being in the capital city of a nation participating in the World Cup Final. Five huge screens had been set up by Nike in Museumplein, an area the size of a football field. Now that you can visualize that, add 200,000 people dressed in nothing but oranje (orange). The atmosphere was almost overwhelming, I've never seen anything like it in the U.S. Honestly, I don't think I will. Not having anything orange to wear, I picked up a giant Holland soccer flag for ten Euro and tied it about like a cape. I had to look official on my way to find beer. The major grocery, AlbertHein, was luckily right beside the park, so I stopped in to pick up a six pack of Heineken. Which, by the way, Is cheaper than water. How awesome is that?

I walked around the park by myself taking photos (to be posted as soon as I can) for a while and picked up two free orange shirts. ING was tossings shirts that said "oranje oud spanje" or something like that and Heineken was giving away shirts that said "Bertje!" Bertje was more my size, so I threw it on and went back to my hotel to drop off my camera. I came back and hour later to twice as many people as before. The crowd was so dense that you could hardly move!

I planted myself in a spot and some Dutch girl yelled "BERTJE!" at me. So of course I shouted back at the top of my lungs, still having no idea what it meant. I think she sensed it and asked me (there were a lot of tourists in the city) and was kind enough to explain the play on words. I ended up spending the rest of the day with she and her friends and watching the match with them. A better option, I think, than with other Americans.

Watching the match was a very unique experience. I don't think that I've ever felt so much like somebody else, or so much a part of something else. The Dutch go CRAZY for their soccer. Van Gogh has a quote, "Orange is the color of insanity," which was perfectly fitting for the situation. Nike even made an awesome Dutch commercial about it. Make sure you click the link. There was so much tension in the air, the crowd was silent for most of the match, eyes glued to the screens. Only taking breaks when the match stopped.

I think the most profound part of the day was the loss. When you walk out of a Chiefs loss, everyone is sad, but the rest of the state and country doesn't really care. EVERYBODY was bummed after Spain's goal. They knew it was the end. There was even a fight right in front of me in the crowd because of it. I don't even normally support Holland and I was upset. I didn't feel like going out after that (nor did anyone else), so I said goodbye to my Dutch friends and went back to my hostel to pass out.

All in all, I think that it was one of the best experiences I've ever had, or ever will have. It will be tough to find something that can compare. It will be something I'll remember forever. Check another few off under "Abso-freaking-lutely Amazing."

Iamsterdam

Hello from Museumplein! It is currently around 5:30pm here. Here being a wold famous park in Southwest Amsterdam, Netherlands! It is host to the well known Iamsterdam sign and is surrounded by several museums and the fashion block.

I apologize for being so slow to finally update my blog. Internet access is just about everywhere (I'm actually using Amsterdam free-city-wifi in the park), but that is only in major cities. Staying with Anouk, I had to rely on her house for internet, but by the time we arrived home, I was usually too exhausted to even think about writing anything. I'll work on that, I think it will be better from now on.

Anyways.

I arrived in Amsterdam this morning at a quarter after nine my time, which is somewhere around one or two in the morning for most of you reading this. I took the night train from Baden, Switzerland, another city near Zurich. The best moment of this trip so far was when I stepped on that train. It's a rush when you actually make your first train by yourself. I was rushing up and down the platform trying to make sure it was the right one. When I finally found my seat, I asked my seat partner, in broken German, if he spoke English. He replied with a slow "ne-in" and frowned and turned forward. About that time he laughed with a "JUST KIDDING!" Turns out he was and American from Oregon. And the two people behind us were from Chicago. What are the chances? The remainder train ride itself was fairly pleasant, I chatted with the people around me for a few hours and slept the remainder of the twelve hour ride.

I awoke about half and hour from Amsterdam Central Station. After getting off the the train fretting for a couple hours - while wandering the city - about where I was going to stay, I sat down at a lovely little bakery shop and booked two separate hostels for the 4 days I'm going to be here. The World Cup is tomorrow and Holland happens to be playing! I'm stoked that I'll get to experience some real futbol fanaticism, let alone being in country for a team playing in the final! I made my way to the first hostel, about ten minute's walk from the park I'm in now and discovered that they have no wireless internet. Great. As long as I have it in the park.

That's about all for today, as I haven't done much but wander the city. I'll post some photos from my exploration of Amsterdam when I get the chance, probably tomorrow, and will sit down to write about my first four days in Switzerland, which you've probably already seen via my photo albums. (If you haven't, there's a link at the top of my blog.)

Doei! (That's Dutch for goodbye!)

Forget about good.

Forget about good.

Good is a known quantity.

Good is what we all agree on.

Growth is not necessarily good.

Growth is an exploration of unlit resources that may or may not yield to our research.

As long as you stick to good you'll never have real growth.

- Bruce Mau

This is the second point in Mau's Incomplete Manifesto for Growth. It's probably my second favorite quote of all time. Tonight, it was written on written on the wall of my room...that's important.

The Cost of Freedom

As often as this subject is on my mind, it's almost appalling that I've not yet written about it here.

I'm often torn in the struggle for balance in my life. Twenty-One years is not enough time to determine which pieces of your life will level the scale. But then, is forty? Is sixty? I don't think that I'll ever come to a conclusion.

Recent changes in American government and business models stress me out. Apple computer is in the middle of a movement to control the software which can run on their hardware, even moreso than the AppleOS/Macintosh insanity (which only allows an Apple OS to run on a Mac machine). I normally wouldn't care, but the problem is that the business model is booming. People are still buying iTouches and iPads with the knowledge that they cannot open their property, nor can they put any software on it without the corporate supervision that is the App Store. This claims to be an ease of use method, but I'm concerned and almost scared of where this is leading. As people begin to accept the fact that they have no control over what they want to do with their new toys, I feel that they are essentially giving up their freedom. It all goes back to freedom and saftey. Would you rather have a super stable and clean machine, or would you like to tinker and take innovation to a new level?

It's early in the morning, I'm exhausted and in a rather bad mood. Sorry for the senseless rambling.

Anyways, what I'm getting at is that our population (and maybe the world?) is beginning to give up freedom for safety and feigned free will. The founding fathers of America would be disappointed. I know I am. I don't feel like there are enough people that feel like me to affect this shift. It's dangerous. As if we could organize something anyways. My generation is rather pathetic when it comes to those things. The generation in power now has a rather solid grip on things though. Change against their will is almost impossible. The cost of an impact now is a fine, a brand and a prison sentence that will always follow you. Maybe if we weren't so civilized we could bring about a revolution the old-school way. "If you do not do what we want, we'll kill you." American revolution style! When the Brits tried to control our colonists, they were told to lay down their arms or be killed. Unfortunately, I don't want to kill anybody. Our populace is fragmented, too. So much that I think it would be impossible to reign in. We'd be fighting amongst each other more than we would be fighting for our cause. (That's a Noam Chomsky idea, by the way.)

I'm in bad mood due to a fight with the parents tonight. That's what got me on this whole track. The reality of my situation is that I've given up much of the freedom I might otherwise have for financial ease. I'm not okay with it at all. In fact, I can't stand it. I was told tonight that they raised me to be a Free Thinker. They did a damn good job and I'm glad. It makes for a solid line of separation between them and myself, though, which I don't like. I don't feel like I can talk about my ideas when I'm here. Hell would break loose. It makes it hard to get very close with my parents, which in turn makes me sad. They're great people. They did a great job raising me, according to lots of people. I think so myself. But will this always be a source of irreconcilable differences?

Transformations

Ha. I named this post about halfway through writing it. I get a kick out of the fact that the title and content are strikingly parallel with RSD's Transformations...

Today is a good day for me. I realized that I've become the kind of consumer that I wanted to become before I set off. Although I'll always be eccentric and enjoy things of the like, I haven't always been a rational consumer for it. Like most others, if I seen something I wanted, I'd get it. Whether it was worth a great amount, or it was the most beautiful paperweight known to man.

I don't like that style of consumerism. Not only is it incredibly wasteful but, I think, those actions will eventually bleed into other parts of your life, at which point it can become a lifestyle instead of a consumer style. That's why I wanted to get away from it. This first year off of school was about doing some serious work transforming myself into something that I believed was better than my former self. Namely, I wanted to become more introspective, less materialistic and much more aware of the circumstances surrounding my life.

Now that I write that, I feel like I've come a long ways in a year. Having lots of open minded friends (ahem, Cody, you may get mentioned in every blog post; you're on a roll) has provided an outlet to discuss things about myself that I otherwise never may have considered. I'm much more attuned to what I want, what I believe and what I really need. I have a better understanding of self. It's like a whole different level than what I used to have.

The materialistic changes are what have surprised me most. I didn't really know if I'd be able to make it to where I wanted to be. I was sure that I could break myself of buying things I didn't need, but I didn't know if I could totally change my perspective on those things as well. I have. I see things now in a very "rational" way. Do I really need it? What REAL value does this have now and will it maintain that value in the future? I am working on purchasing not based on want, but on need and efficiency. MINIMALISM! I'm not sure that I want to be completely minimalist, or if I really can, but I'm making good progress going where I want to go with it...which is somewhere in that direction.

The "circumstances of my life thing" is a much more broad idea than either of the previous two. And it requires a lot of sense of self to really be aware of things. You've got to true to yourself, and completely honest. I see my decision to modify my travel plans as a sign of the changes regarding my self awareness. It's apparent that my original desire is not entirely feasible at this point in my life. I took a step back to see what changes could be made and made them and I am in a much better position for it. I know, with more precision, what I want to do and how I want to do it, as well as the things I'd like to do in the future (hookah bar, anyone?!).

Changes

Today, at 2:11am, I am the most excited I have ever been about my trip.

I'm making some huge changes for better or for worse, but I like them. I'm cutting down. I'll be spending only 3 months in Europe and probably one month in South America.

Reasons for this decision are varied, but it really comes down to two things: weddings and cost. I will not miss my best friend's wedding for the world, so I'm leaving in July and coming back in October to play best man! And travelling the other continents is expensive. The real cost comes from getting place to place. It's outrageously costly because not every place has railways and awesome transportation systems like Europe.

However, since I'm cutting back, I'll have a lot more money to spend on some things. Cody and I were sitting at the Classic Bean tonight when it occurred to me that there is no reason for me to pay off all of my student loans. I'm just going to prepay payments through January, and keep the rest of the money for my travels. It will save me about $2500, which will be used for the coolest thing ever: a Eurail Pass. With the extra money, I can afford to buy a 3 month pass which will get me at will train tickets to nearly every country and city I want to visit. AND a ferry from the UK to Amsterdam, which is exactly what I wanted to do. HOW FREAKING AWESOME IS THAT!? I just got insanely lucky.

I'll be travelling super fast, which is great because I'll be able to see more. I'll also get road worn more quickly, so I'll be prepared to come back by October. At that point, I'll take a couple months to work, then head to South America for a month. Followed by re-enrollment at my beloved K-State in January. My time spent abroad will be much shorter than anticipated, but I've got my whole live to travel.

Plus, when I get back I can do some of the other things I've wanted to do. The first month of summer 2011, I'm going to take a month long US road trip. I think I'll be able to do it cheaper than I'll be able to travel around Europe. When I arrive in Manhattan in January, I'm going to set about opening a Hookah shop in town. It will be my first attempt at entrepreneurship. I may fail miserably, but personally I think there's a real fat chance of that. A college town is the perfect place to start a business like that and I think it would be a blast.

Anyways, I'm too exhausted to really be blogging, I just can't sleep because I'm simply giddy about all these things. Even though I'm going to be traveling a lot less time than I'd hoped, my life is great.

P.S. I've put together a list of the things (not all inclusive, and with a few extra things) that I'll be taking on my trip with me. It's not a lot, but it IS all that I need to survive. I'm really pumped about the actions I'm taking to be able to live simply. I hope that, when I return to the states, I will be able to continue the lifestyle.

What a Week...

It's Friday. Finally. The last week has been an incredible roller coaster. Let me give you a quick recap of what went down.

Last Thursday. Off work early. Power surge on electrical grid blows up my Marantz power amp at 4:30pm. $1200 to properly replace it.

Friday. Went to Lawrence with Nathan. Hung out at Ayrick's place.

Saturday. Went to Lawrence. Left for a free Ok Go concert at the AMC Midland with Nathan, Ayrick and a couple others. Didn't get in, place was full to capacity. Came back to Lawrence and went home because I couldn't get into any bars. (Fuck the alcohol laws in America. This is becoming a real issue that I hope will be changed soon, even after I turn 21.)

Sunday. Friend of the family passes away.

Monday. 4:45 am. Dad wakes me up to tell me my neighbor Ed has passed away. He's the only person who's ever filled the role of a grandfather in my life.

Tuesday. Went to Hooters with Cody. Won Tuesday Trivia and 100 free wings. Beat out 8 teams, and I won the cracker eating tie breaker for us!

Wednesday. Received my Stoic eVent shell in the mail. Awesome.

Thursday. Went to Ed's funeral. Received my Patagonia R1 [Edit: turns out the jacket I have is actually an R3 Radiant. MUCH MORE BADASS!] in the mail. Went to Legends to see The Wolfman under the impression that Cody and I could get into VIP seating. Turns out the girl on the phone was wrong.

Which brings me to today. Got off work at 1:30pm. Slept all afternoon. Going to Manhattan tomorrow to watch DJ and Meriel in a track meet. Should be good.

Crazy, huh?

Hilarity Ensues: On Facebook and Business Cards

So! Tonight I had one of the funniest things happen to me in some time. I JUST GOT STRAIGHT UP DEFRIENDED! Yes, on the Facebook. Wow!

I'm not going to be an asshole and use names because, in all honesty, I have no anger, am not distraught, and am still all giggly (yes giggly) about this. So for the story, we'll call my defriender (that almost sounds cool) "Defriender" and the other person will be..... "Shaniqua." That sounds good. Here's the story:

Defriender had commented on a status of mine. Shaniqua recognized the name and said hi to me. To cut to the chase, Shaniqua is a hater of Defriender. Now, I couldn't really care less. Defriender and I are still on good terms as far as I'm concerned. But I found the fact funny and interesting, so I proceeded to have the following conversation with Defriender....

Me: guess what! turns out a friend of mine is a hater of yours!

Defriender: WHO

Me: really?

Me: that could get me into trouble.

Defriender: WHO

Defriender: .........

Me: no seriously. that will get me into trouble

Defriender: k bye

Defender then proceeded to disconnect, and defriend me. Now, I don't know about anybody else, but I think that was simultaneously awesome, hilarious and unfortunate all at the same time. And I really don't give a shit. :D Some days I love being me!

On a lighter note, I'm designing a business card. This is iteration 5, finalized with the help of Cody. I think it turned out really well; for sure a lot better than I was expecting with the rough draft. It's the first thing you see in this post. The symbol in the middle is my monogram. It took me half of a freakin' hour on my mom's Wacom tablet to get it just so. (Those last two sentences were the third edit to this. I should really proofread more.) Cody and I had to brainstorm a bit to come up with my title of "world traveller." I couldn't find anything fitting because "adventurer" didn't really work in practice and "consent engineer" just isn't something I want to explain to a stranger. The design was originally going to go on 2.5" round cards, but those are stupidly expensive. Instead, its going to be centered on a standard rectangular card (also Cody's idea, I quote "I like white space!") and I'm going to put some cool black and white photo of myself on the back.

Wow. Now that I proofread that, turns out Cody helped a lot when my own ideas crashed and burned. Thank you, Cody!

Finally, I bought my first piece of gear tonight. A Patagonia R2. Mine's pretty and red! I still have several more things to get, but I'm stoked about this. It's really begun.

And I should be getting my passport renewed on Friday. WOOHOO!!!!!

peace.love.forever

Imperfect Perfection

I was talking to a friend last night who was having a bit of trouble coping with some of the struggles she was going through in her life. I know the feeling of what she is going through, it is pure misery. One of those things that you can't really comfort somebody about, except to be there for them.

While we were talking, I put into words a view of life that I've had for a while. I just hadn't taken the time to articulate it. It started out with my stuff. I don't have a lot of stuff. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I have very little compared to most people. Those things I do have, however, are costly, handmade and unique.

Naturally, she was lost as to where I was going with this, and I wasn't sure either until I really thought about it. I like the things I have because they're unique. Created by a real person with a real purpose. They have great value to me as well as those who created them. And I see a wonderful comparison between the process it took to make them and the process it is taking to make me.

When someone sets about to attain perfection for their art, hardware or whatever it may be, it is not simply "done." It takes a long, long time. Hundreds, thousands of mistakes and each time the blueprint is scoured and improved. Finally something perfect is created. And even if a sword has a discoloration from tempering or a table has a mar in the wood, these small imperfections do not make them any less finished or beautiful.

I believe that we, as people, are created in this fashion. We start out with an idea of who we want to be and we behave and react accordingly. Experience befalls us in the form of a relationship or a job or an adventure and we break down, only to build ourselves up again. We refine ourselves and others into something much more beautiful, unique and complete. Small blemishes may exist on our surface, be it scars or minor prejudices or crass speech, but they serve only to attest to what we have been through in the process. As a sculpture has a chip in the marble from years of wear, a soldier may have death on his hands from months of war, a grandfather a grimace on his face from decades of hard work.

But we, as humans, in all of our blemishes and refinements, are perfect.

Also, something to think about:

The tallest, strongest, most beautiful trees

have weathered the most storms.