Hey ya´ll
I´m here, writing you direct from ¨the road¨. In an internet kiosk at Madrid airport. The keyboard is hell. its metal and half broken. but im bored and have an hour anda half layover. ive given up on capitalizing as the shift key is impossible. I got to malaga airport around 715/720 and waited, napped, bought ponche and just sat around for basically 5 and a half hours, seeing as my flight was at 1235 and we didnt board till 1220. flight was negligable, now i just have one more stop. wicked excited for my bed and well, my bed... and drinkable tap water and an iphone and new mac products andyes, of course my family and friends... i do most definitely missthem, however this trip has been amazing. not even in general or on a whole, i was thinking about it last night, every individual day had something great about it. also, with friends and foriegn countries you cant go wrong, plus i definitely improved my spanish, im not fluet, but i can definitely confidently fudge my way around. im excited to come back in Dec. its been good, well, imfreaking starving so im going to go eat, i doubt anyway will read this before i get home, but w.e ill see you in a few hours and by a few i mean like 12.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Las Cosas que mas me han gustado!
1. Buenas Vistas
2. Buena Playa
3. Mujeres es muy guapas
4. Hace Calor, Buen Clima
5. Comida es muy delisciosa
6. PAELLA!!! (Me Encanta)
7. Fanta Limon
8. No Trabajar
9. La Feria y "Botellon"
10. Personas es muy Buenas! (Buena Gente!)
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I'll be home tomorrow night and I'm definitely happy to be coming home; but man was this an amazing trip.
2. Buena Playa
3. Mujeres es muy guapas
4. Hace Calor, Buen Clima
5. Comida es muy delisciosa
6. PAELLA!!! (Me Encanta)
7. Fanta Limon
8. No Trabajar
9. La Feria y "Botellon"
10. Personas es muy Buenas! (Buena Gente!)
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I'll be home tomorrow night and I'm definitely happy to be coming home; but man was this an amazing trip.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Spain, words through pictures.
Ok, it's hot, I'm sweaty. I really don't feel like making such a long winded entry. Besides I finally have some pictures to share and I'll let them do the talking for me. Basically, today we went up into the mountains that border Malaga to see all of the little towns. Its incredible, there are all these little farm/wine towns built right into the mountainsides. The road was windy and narrow, but it was cool. Another family friend took us to the outskirts of Granada and through Nerja. I also went to the Cueves de Nerja yesterday (Caves of Nerja, like Arizona, stalagmites etc...). Hanging out with friends, beach, traveling, sight seeing.... the usual, but enough of me- check out some of these shots. (click on pictures to enlarge)
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Ceuves de Nerja
Ya know, its just the side of the road.
Oh yea, and there's the road.
Brings new meaning to "just going over to the neighbors"
Buena Vista
City on a mountain
Competa
I'm getting tan, right? Oh wait, that's a beautiful calle de Competa behind me....
The Adventure Map
Would you park here?
Typical Housing
Everyday is Winding Road... no? sorry, I had to.
Beach right outside of Granada, notice Roman watch towers on the hillside.
Check out this pool with fish in it, oh wait, that's ocean water.
Yea, that's just a very small sample... So enjoy it, I am.
-------
Ceuves de Nerja
Ya know, its just the side of the road.
Oh yea, and there's the road.
Brings new meaning to "just going over to the neighbors"
Buena Vista
City on a mountain
Competa
I'm getting tan, right? Oh wait, that's a beautiful calle de Competa behind me....
The Adventure Map
Would you park here?
Typical Housing
Everyday is Winding Road... no? sorry, I had to.
Beach right outside of Granada, notice Roman watch towers on the hillside.
Check out this pool with fish in it, oh wait, that's ocean water.
Yea, that's just a very small sample... So enjoy it, I am.
Big Update, Backdate: The Rest of London
Ok, so I'm back... well, on the computer, not home. Sorry for the false alarm. Pero, donde esta mi cabasa. Yo necesito escribe en Espanol. Or not, it's basically too hot to write, let alone think about writing in a different language. However, I've been trying my best at speaking allot recently and its not too bad.
Anyway- let's catch up.
So- London-
I believe I last left you about 13 hours in? Anyway. So first off, at least for the time that I was there, for all intents and purposes The Generator Hostel = Australian Embassy. Not only were my two hot female roommates, Natalie and Jessica (Jess and Nat) who were madd cool as well, from Australia but (with the exception of the last 6 hours, more later) every single person from the Hostel that I actually met and hung out with were from Australia as well. Les, Peta, and Tash, as well as some others who I didn't get names, all from Australia. (Sucka, now I have Australia as one of my groups on Facebook, you're jealous). Anyway- so Peta and Tash were sisters and Les was just some random cool guy who was chillen with us. He was there to try out for the South Hampton Football Club, he's 18. Anyway- So let's get the gritty details out of the way- I'm not saying London is stale for me already, I'm just saying my head is kind of "out of the (rain)clouds" so to speak, and at the beach. So right, we met Les, Tash and Peta in the bar at the Generator (yes, my hostel had a bar in house. Yes, it was open until 2am, later than most local pubs. Yes, the drinks were actually affordable- ballin').
Ok, so Win and I had planned and "early" day to get up at 8:30/9:15 and catch the 10am walking tour from the hostel. Therefore, we decided instead of going out we would just head to the bar for a little bit, maybe a drink and most importantly some pool. Cool. Anyway. So we get there and Tash and Les are playing against two other guys (Aussie's of course). So we get drinks and wait around the pool table is sort of broken so I attempt to help Les recover some of the balls. They play a game and then I ask if the tables free. I introduce myself to Les, who in turn introduces me to Tash and Peta is sitting around so I meet her too. We play a game and then the three Aussie's decide they want to go to a pub (but of COURSE) around the block that many hostel goers frequent. Its probably 1100 or 12? not sure, probably closer to 11 and I shot Win a look and mention our early morning. He hesitates and then decides to go. Not wanting to be left behind I follow. So we go to this pub, which is pretty standard The London Pub. Have several drinks (I was on Jack and Coke that night) talk, chat, etc, then without a last call bell, we go to get more drinks and find out that they are no longer serving... bummer, its only 12pm- Oh wait, the Generator doesn’t close until 2- so of course, we go back to bar (I think its called The Turbine) and continue our action. A few rounds (both of pool and drinks later) and were talking and enjoying each other. Its great. Some random kid calls Peta a "mole" for absolutely no reason, which is like the C word in Australia, she gets upset temporarily and then we continue hanging out. Around 1 or 130 Win calls it quits and I stay down hanging out in freaking Melbourne as far as I was concerned. Next thing we know the harsh fluorescents engage washing out the blue and red neons signaling 2am and last The Aussie's turn in and I do too. Or I attempt. I lie in bed, and lie in bed and yep, continue to stare at the ceiling... I'm up, there’s not much I can do (I had taken some Sudafed esqe medicine before, which I read later has caffeine in it, don't know if it was from that or I was just kind wired. (Yes, I was drinking after taking Pseudoephedrine and Paracetamol, not a good idea, I'm aware- If you can believe it, I actually forgot until my 4th drink in when I was like, Oh shit, I def should not be drinking on drugs. Shit Happens, I digress). So then I go downstairs to the "chill out room" (I think I wrote the last entry then, Infact I'm almost positive I did, but only 89%). I read a bit, walk around outside (I swear I was allergic to some kind of dust in that place). Then I make several trips in-between various 24hour convenience stores and supermarkets in search for an allergy medicine that doesn't scare me. I desperately needed to seek refuge from this terrible stuffy runny nose that was making me suffer so. Anyway, I finally decide on short term, fast acting Benedryl. I go back. Take some of that and lie down (hoping I wake up. Yes, I now have just mixed Pseudoephedrine, Paracetemol, Alcohol and Acrivastine. But I'm sitting here writing this right? So it didn't kill me, probably made me stronger even... Hey, at least I didn't take opiates to stop diarrhea).
So aside from sleeping in until about 1 shutting off at least 6 alarms, meeting some random hairdresser, who apparently has a son with hair just like mine, who tells me I should definitely try the olive oil conditioning shampoo, nothing really happened. We caught a tour Bus but it began to rain (in England you say!???! No!) So instead we sat on the lower level, barely saw anything, well Win did, I didn't as I passed out for 15minute intervals starting after St. Paul's Cathedral due to maybe 4 hours of sleep and a half bottle of red wine. Right so something did happen.
Ok, so we got out at St. Paul's Cathedral, paid, went in. It was actually pretty cool. Impressive yes, but what I found to be the most interesting was climbing up into the different levels. There are three different heights. I went to all three and you really get a fantastic view of all of London (When its not cloudy and raining). That was fun. I also amused myself on the way down by humming and singing such favorites as "The Ants go marching", the lambchop fav "this is the song that never ends", Reel Big Fish's version of "New York, New York" the whole way down some of the most claustrophobic, medieval and reverberating/echoy stairways of my life- only to have a not-as-amused-as-I-was-or-for-that-matter-at-all nun like looking staff member waiting for me to tell me she had been trying to hush me for three minutes and that I was loud (really, I didn’t know)... etc, etc, after "hole" heartedly apologising (yes in GB they spell apologise with an S) I couldn't help but laugh on my way out. Anyway, then we had lunch across the street at Pizza Express, which, despite its name was a attempting to be an upscale, yuppie, hip, but convenient and wickedly delicious personal pizza place. We ordered pizzas (which was nothing short of phenomenal) and a bottle of red wine I had the window facing seat which has a direct view of the Cathedral which is actually very impressive and beautiful. Anyway- (I’ve been saying that allot in this entry.... but anyway) we thoroughly enjoyed pizza, the view and ourselves as we proceeded to kill the bottle equally. After which we hopped back on the bus and that brings us back to me passing out and not learning or seeing anything. We got off on a stop and then went back. I'm sure something happened between that and that night but it wasn't important enough to remember. Aside from getting caught in the rain. Anyway- that night we got to the theatre district in Piccadilly Circus to see The Phantom of The Opera (it's Win's favorite and seeing as he was with me in London on birthday money, I'd figure I'd let him chose [my vote was for Wicked, which I have never seen, but Phantom is good in my book too, its just that I have seen it before] Sorry E you couldn't be there- I was thinking of you the whole time [true story!]) Right, so we go see Phantom, its great. Then we walk around Piccadilly, which is cool, I buy Union Jack Boxers (which probably should have arrived at the house by now). Then we wander, and I lead the way as we aimlessly walk into the abyss of London. I figure we just keep walking until we find a stop, arbitrarily picking a direction (hoping that its towards the hostel, as our original plan was to walk back, but after we realized it was the opposite direction, it turned into, hey, how about we find a tube stop and get the hell home, only it wasn't that stressed, it was just that we didn't know where we were, but then again we weren't too worried about it). Anyway (there it is again) we keep walking and after a little bit of doubt run into a tube stop. We get back; stop at Tesco Express to get food (best invention ever [imagine all the most important things in a supermarket in the size of a 7/11]) and head back to the hostel. While we're chillin in our room our roommates get back. Now at this point aside from seeing them sleep or interrupting a girl pow-wow, we hadn't really met them. So we finally start to chat and realize they are wicked cool. So we talk and talk so long that we get hungry again in turn making them decide that they are hungry. So we once again venture to Tesco Express (oh hell yes its 24/7). It's around 2am or so. So we get back, eat- talk some more and then go to bed. The next day is checkout, we had a grand plan to wake up at 8, and pack until 10 when if we didn't check out, we get charged for another day. So we sleep in until 9:51am. I run down to the desk to check us out- which only means we had to turn our keys in... So we sit in the room and pack, just as I was finishing the cleaning lady starts yelling at me, because there weren’t 600 other rooms to clean... So, Win has a 12:35 train back to Manchester, so we go right to the station and lollygag around outside. I get the most fresh orange juice and a fruit salad. And we chill. We discuss the ridiculous volume of hooker/escort ads featuring actually naked women, which are plastered all over basically every phone booth in the city. Then I wait with Win in the station until his platform is announced. He gets on his train. I find a pair of glasses on the ground, turn them into lost properties and go back. Now my tour begins.
I went to check out Covent Gardens, which is cool. The Photographer's Gallery, which is a free gallery with Photography, small but nice, made me think and there was some really cool stuff there. I meet a guy there who knew what and where Swampscott was (Leonard Neumann). Then I made my way to the Tate to see the history of British photography exhibit, How we Are. It was pretty cool. The older photographs although not as interesting, were still actually pretty interesting. Some of the newer photographers were really cool. Especially theses oversized pictures of British Marines by Alastair Thain who used a custom built dual lens digital large format camera, the pictures were really really intense. They were just portraits but the detail was incredible. Artistically they were good, but I was more intrigued by the technical aspect, i.e. the intense intense detail and sharpness. I then went back to the Apple Store on Regent Street (of course). The place is freaking gianormous! It has 4 full sized Apple logos on the front.... anyway- I introduced myself, checked my Apple webmail, and then (by the Manchester Apple guys suggestion) asked to be shown around the back rooms and offices, aka private tour. I got one. It was sick. I'm a little obsessed, maybe. But then again my Dad took more pictures of airplane engines on his vacations than of the views. Anyway, then there was this guy from Argentina on the sidewalk with his motorcycle "The Excalibur" that he's ridden everywhere. He was raising money for a new trip across the UK. The bike is sick, he was on West Coast Choppers, google it. I talked with him a bit (his English was bad and my Spanish was worse). I wandered some, then I began to walk down Regent Street, the wrong way, trying to get to Piccadilly Circus to exchange the boxers I got the day before (the package said M but there was a S inside). I finally realized it was the wrong way and turned around. I got to Piccadilly, exchanged the boxers and noticed and picked up a great London snow globe for the only person I know that collects snow globes from different places and the I have brought back a globe for before. Fantastic. So at this point its only like 6 or 7, but I'm hungry, and I haven't seen Big Ben yet. So I begin my quest for Fish and Chips, as I have not had "authentic" British Fish and chips yet. So one of the travel guides I have says there’s is a bomb ass fish and chips place at Waterloo, which happens to be right by Big Ben, perfect. So I go to Westminster tube stop (to see BB first and make my way towards Waterloo on foot).
Walking out from the Westminster tube stop (exit 4) was intense. Immediately I am facing, as far as I can see at the moment, a wall of a building. I get further out and tilt my head all the way back, wow. I have to say, I was really impressed and taken aback by Big Ben. Contrary to many famous attractions that loose their fizzle, or may not even look half as good in person as they do in pictures, BB holds it own. So I appreciate that and the Thames. I see the Eye, and begin my hunt. So the guide doesn't give a map, it just says, it’s on Waterloo Rd and under one of the skeeziest bridges in London. So I go here and I go there and I walk around, find the Waterloo Station stop and nose my way around past another bridge and finally, there it is, the sign glowing just as it had in on the semiglossy pages of Itchy, Fishcotheque. So I stroll in (and the bridge is pretty gross, but no worse than say the rail bridge next to Monty's... which I guess doesn't speak for much). And get served. Although it is on a plate and not in yesterday's newspaper, it still is delicious. Also, as a side note, England has made me acquire quite a taste for malted vinegar on French fries- sooo good. So I eat, and at this point its getting to be dusk, but not too dark yet. So I really want to make it onto the eye (I was told dusk, just as all the lights are coming on is perfect). So I nose my way over to the Eye, not that hard, its the huge freaking ferris wheel raping the skyline. So I get to it, get in line, and go to the guy with the portable ticket printer. I ask him for a ticket, then he asks me for a ticket... I was confused. I go, no, I don't have a ticket, I need a ticket. Then, very rudely he says, oh, well you need a ticket to get on (duh) and the place that sells tickets is that building over there (points). I say ok, then he continues as if Id interrupted him, but its closed, so you can't get a ticket, come back tomorrow. But I'm leaving tomorrow morning at 6am. Oh, too bad.
So that was that, I didn't get on the eye but its cool, my evening was just fine as it was. I then wander over to the park just beneath the eye to find a guy doing statue (yawn... but still cool). I guy playing Violin (I gave him a pound just cause, represent). Then a ragamuffin looking black guy playing Djembe and croaking out random Bob Marley lyrics... sick. I chill, listen to him. I introduce myself, tell him I have one at home, he lets me get a beat in for a bit. Then I turn around. All the lights on the Thames have come on. Big Ben, the Parliament, the Eye, have all sprung to life, It actually was fairly (for lack of a better word) breathtaking. I don't know if its just that its not in America, but again, it holds its own to the pictures, infact it was better. So I enjoy the scenery. Then I go back to hanging with the drummer. I chill there for a bit, relaxing, enjoying myself. He isn't that good or anything, but it was just cool. The city behind me, the park and Abeng (I got his name later) in front. Some people from different countries and some 16 year olds drinking beer around me. It was chill. Two female cops came over told them to finish up instead of giving them a fine. So Abeng wraps up and I head back to the bridge and the Westminster stop. I get to the bridge and its incredible. Big Ben is all lit up. From a far its cool, but up close it was spectacular. It was really cool. I also met a photographer on the bridge. He was shooting time exposures with a Canon, so I stood around over his shoulder. He was having trouble with his CF card and that’s when I started a conversation, starting with some solutions. Anyway his name was Jon Baker and he's going to give some of his 1DS 24mm L glass shots of BB, so I'm excited.
So I got in the Westminster station around 22:30. Now the tube is like the Metro, you pay per your zone, however, if you never leave the station, it doesn't charge you. Now, if you are familiar with the tube, you'll know that each station has its own Iconic "underground" sign with the name of the station. You also know that a train is called by the last stop it makes- e.g., the Commuter rail that stops in Swampscott ends in Rockport and is hence "the Rockport Line". Anyway so the Line with the hostel stop is known as the Piccadilly Line on maps (only because that is a major center and is a stop) but the actual trains note themselves with another name. Cockfosters. The last stop on the line. Ok, so being an immature, stupid American teenager the first couple times I heard the delicate but assertive automated female voice say, this train terminating at COCKFOSTERS I couldn't help but laugh out loud, even by the fifth time I would still crack a stupid grin. So here I am, on the tube, with 8 or so hours to kill and one goal. I want to take a picture with the Cockfosters sign. So I make my way from the Waterloo line, to the Victoria line, to the Piccadilli line. I then get very comfortable, and passing out inbetween every stop. Sometimes sleeping through stops, make my way to "the end of the line". About an hour later, I arrive. hope out, take some snaps, hope back on and ride back to Russel Square.
I get to the Generator, pick up my luggage still safely tucked away in the communal luggage room and head to the "chill out room". Well, first I stopped at the bar to get a Jack and Coke. So I'm in the COR with my Jack and Coke reading one of the best books ever (Confederacy of Dunces). And I forget exactly how it happened... I think I overheard their American accents or that they were from DC.... not sure. Anyway, point being I meet two girls from DC that go to George Mason. They are on a semester abroad at Oxford. We end up talking for two long and I realize if I wait any longer I'm going to be late for my flight.
They walk with me out to the bus station. I was going the wrong way. So after asking for directions, they head back to the hostel and I make my way to the bus stop.
This is where my personal hell begins.
So please, for me, imagine that I am carrying my duffelbag with all my clothes, my backpack full of pint glasses and electronics and a souvinier bag 4 blocks. Now, not to say it was impossible, just not comfortable. So I get to the street where the stop is at. I'm looking for Bus 24. The first bus I see coming down the street is 24! Awesome, what timing! So I start to flag down the bus, thinking I was at the right stop. The driver sees me, waves, then points down the street to another stop. So I half figure he's going to stop ahead. I think again and start running, with everything down the street. Of course, he keeps going. 3:02, the next bus is at 3:30ish. My flight is at 6. The Gatwick train runs every hour. It takes a 45mins from Victoria to the Airport, I have no idea how long it takes to get to Victoria from where I am. So I wait, and wait, the bus comes. I get to Victoria. Run in and check the board. Yes. There's a 4:00 train still up on the board... too bad its 4:05. The next train, I luck out is the Gatwick Express (30minute ride) too bad it doesnt leave until 4:30. So I get to the airport its 5:05, remember, my flight is at 6am, it's an international flight. Goodwork Adam, prove everyone right again.... So I get to the South terminal and its packed, on a Wednesday morning, at 5am.... fuck. So I cannot for the life of me find British Airways- I ask an attendent, she half heartedly points around the corner. I go around the corner (still carrying all my bags). I wait in what appears to be a line for a few minutes. Still no sign of British Airways. I ask someone else and after much argument (why is everyone so damn rude) I find out I'm not even at the right terminal. I have to take a monorail to the NORTH terminal. Its like 5:20. So I luck out and catch the tram exactly on its arrival. Get to the North terminal which is a clusterfuck. Even more packed, no distinct lines and overall mass chaos. I get to a automated checkin terminal. Scan my passport. Its too late for me to do automated check in. So I flag down an attendent who looks at me with two heads as if I would have the nerve to be so late (yea, I should have planned better, whatever, the girls were cute and lived near me at school, sue me). So she hurries me over to another desk and I am just now noticing the STRICTLY ONE CARRY ON LUGGAGE sign, hoping, praying that they only pertain to certain flights. I get my bag checked to the disdain of the attendent at the desk who announces to me that I got on by "the skin of my teeth" (she actually had to call the gate/control tower or whatever)... Anyway, so I get to security and the lady goes, you cant have two bags, I try to see if the wording was different, like on carry on and a personal item? NO, one bag. its like 5:40, so I very quickly rip open both bags, stuff more crap in my backpack and THANK Christ I was wearing my cargo shorts, all left over suveniers being shoved in my pockets, they actually fit, but just imagine like both my cargo pockets bursting with crap. That's ok, but an extra bag isnt.... right. So I get to security, put all my stuff on the belt and then they stop me. Not thinking I had kept the snow globe in my suvineer bag, its small right? Wrong, with no official marking on the ml/ouncage, it can't pass. I'm devistated. I can't check my bag because of all the pin glasses and I have no way of getting back to my other bag to shove it in. Besides its almost 10 to six. So I am forced to watch it get put in the trash tray as I scoop up my bag, restuff my pockets and proceed to sprint to my gate, which as always for me is in one of the farest away terminal wings possible.
Great.
Well, at least I made it to the gate on time. I got on the plane and was on my way. So thats that. Next up- the last few days in Espana!!!
Anyway- let's catch up.
So- London-
I believe I last left you about 13 hours in? Anyway. So first off, at least for the time that I was there, for all intents and purposes The Generator Hostel = Australian Embassy. Not only were my two hot female roommates, Natalie and Jessica (Jess and Nat) who were madd cool as well, from Australia but (with the exception of the last 6 hours, more later) every single person from the Hostel that I actually met and hung out with were from Australia as well. Les, Peta, and Tash, as well as some others who I didn't get names, all from Australia. (Sucka, now I have Australia as one of my groups on Facebook, you're jealous). Anyway- so Peta and Tash were sisters and Les was just some random cool guy who was chillen with us. He was there to try out for the South Hampton Football Club, he's 18. Anyway- So let's get the gritty details out of the way- I'm not saying London is stale for me already, I'm just saying my head is kind of "out of the (rain)clouds" so to speak, and at the beach. So right, we met Les, Tash and Peta in the bar at the Generator (yes, my hostel had a bar in house. Yes, it was open until 2am, later than most local pubs. Yes, the drinks were actually affordable- ballin').
Ok, so Win and I had planned and "early" day to get up at 8:30/9:15 and catch the 10am walking tour from the hostel. Therefore, we decided instead of going out we would just head to the bar for a little bit, maybe a drink and most importantly some pool. Cool. Anyway. So we get there and Tash and Les are playing against two other guys (Aussie's of course). So we get drinks and wait around the pool table is sort of broken so I attempt to help Les recover some of the balls. They play a game and then I ask if the tables free. I introduce myself to Les, who in turn introduces me to Tash and Peta is sitting around so I meet her too. We play a game and then the three Aussie's decide they want to go to a pub (but of COURSE) around the block that many hostel goers frequent. Its probably 1100 or 12? not sure, probably closer to 11 and I shot Win a look and mention our early morning. He hesitates and then decides to go. Not wanting to be left behind I follow. So we go to this pub, which is pretty standard The London Pub. Have several drinks (I was on Jack and Coke that night) talk, chat, etc, then without a last call bell, we go to get more drinks and find out that they are no longer serving... bummer, its only 12pm- Oh wait, the Generator doesn’t close until 2- so of course, we go back to bar (I think its called The Turbine) and continue our action. A few rounds (both of pool and drinks later) and were talking and enjoying each other. Its great. Some random kid calls Peta a "mole" for absolutely no reason, which is like the C word in Australia, she gets upset temporarily and then we continue hanging out. Around 1 or 130 Win calls it quits and I stay down hanging out in freaking Melbourne as far as I was concerned. Next thing we know the harsh fluorescents engage washing out the blue and red neons signaling 2am and last The Aussie's turn in and I do too. Or I attempt. I lie in bed, and lie in bed and yep, continue to stare at the ceiling... I'm up, there’s not much I can do (I had taken some Sudafed esqe medicine before, which I read later has caffeine in it, don't know if it was from that or I was just kind wired. (Yes, I was drinking after taking Pseudoephedrine and Paracetamol, not a good idea, I'm aware- If you can believe it, I actually forgot until my 4th drink in when I was like, Oh shit, I def should not be drinking on drugs. Shit Happens, I digress). So then I go downstairs to the "chill out room" (I think I wrote the last entry then, Infact I'm almost positive I did, but only 89%). I read a bit, walk around outside (I swear I was allergic to some kind of dust in that place). Then I make several trips in-between various 24hour convenience stores and supermarkets in search for an allergy medicine that doesn't scare me. I desperately needed to seek refuge from this terrible stuffy runny nose that was making me suffer so. Anyway, I finally decide on short term, fast acting Benedryl. I go back. Take some of that and lie down (hoping I wake up. Yes, I now have just mixed Pseudoephedrine, Paracetemol, Alcohol and Acrivastine. But I'm sitting here writing this right? So it didn't kill me, probably made me stronger even... Hey, at least I didn't take opiates to stop diarrhea).
So aside from sleeping in until about 1 shutting off at least 6 alarms, meeting some random hairdresser, who apparently has a son with hair just like mine, who tells me I should definitely try the olive oil conditioning shampoo, nothing really happened. We caught a tour Bus but it began to rain (in England you say!???! No!) So instead we sat on the lower level, barely saw anything, well Win did, I didn't as I passed out for 15minute intervals starting after St. Paul's Cathedral due to maybe 4 hours of sleep and a half bottle of red wine. Right so something did happen.
Ok, so we got out at St. Paul's Cathedral, paid, went in. It was actually pretty cool. Impressive yes, but what I found to be the most interesting was climbing up into the different levels. There are three different heights. I went to all three and you really get a fantastic view of all of London (When its not cloudy and raining). That was fun. I also amused myself on the way down by humming and singing such favorites as "The Ants go marching", the lambchop fav "this is the song that never ends", Reel Big Fish's version of "New York, New York" the whole way down some of the most claustrophobic, medieval and reverberating/echoy stairways of my life- only to have a not-as-amused-as-I-was-or-for-that-matter-at-all nun like looking staff member waiting for me to tell me she had been trying to hush me for three minutes and that I was loud (really, I didn’t know)... etc, etc, after "hole" heartedly apologising (yes in GB they spell apologise with an S) I couldn't help but laugh on my way out. Anyway, then we had lunch across the street at Pizza Express, which, despite its name was a attempting to be an upscale, yuppie, hip, but convenient and wickedly delicious personal pizza place. We ordered pizzas (which was nothing short of phenomenal) and a bottle of red wine I had the window facing seat which has a direct view of the Cathedral which is actually very impressive and beautiful. Anyway- (I’ve been saying that allot in this entry.... but anyway) we thoroughly enjoyed pizza, the view and ourselves as we proceeded to kill the bottle equally. After which we hopped back on the bus and that brings us back to me passing out and not learning or seeing anything. We got off on a stop and then went back. I'm sure something happened between that and that night but it wasn't important enough to remember. Aside from getting caught in the rain. Anyway- that night we got to the theatre district in Piccadilly Circus to see The Phantom of The Opera (it's Win's favorite and seeing as he was with me in London on birthday money, I'd figure I'd let him chose [my vote was for Wicked, which I have never seen, but Phantom is good in my book too, its just that I have seen it before] Sorry E you couldn't be there- I was thinking of you the whole time [true story!]) Right, so we go see Phantom, its great. Then we walk around Piccadilly, which is cool, I buy Union Jack Boxers (which probably should have arrived at the house by now). Then we wander, and I lead the way as we aimlessly walk into the abyss of London. I figure we just keep walking until we find a stop, arbitrarily picking a direction (hoping that its towards the hostel, as our original plan was to walk back, but after we realized it was the opposite direction, it turned into, hey, how about we find a tube stop and get the hell home, only it wasn't that stressed, it was just that we didn't know where we were, but then again we weren't too worried about it). Anyway (there it is again) we keep walking and after a little bit of doubt run into a tube stop. We get back; stop at Tesco Express to get food (best invention ever [imagine all the most important things in a supermarket in the size of a 7/11]) and head back to the hostel. While we're chillin in our room our roommates get back. Now at this point aside from seeing them sleep or interrupting a girl pow-wow, we hadn't really met them. So we finally start to chat and realize they are wicked cool. So we talk and talk so long that we get hungry again in turn making them decide that they are hungry. So we once again venture to Tesco Express (oh hell yes its 24/7). It's around 2am or so. So we get back, eat- talk some more and then go to bed. The next day is checkout, we had a grand plan to wake up at 8, and pack until 10 when if we didn't check out, we get charged for another day. So we sleep in until 9:51am. I run down to the desk to check us out- which only means we had to turn our keys in... So we sit in the room and pack, just as I was finishing the cleaning lady starts yelling at me, because there weren’t 600 other rooms to clean... So, Win has a 12:35 train back to Manchester, so we go right to the station and lollygag around outside. I get the most fresh orange juice and a fruit salad. And we chill. We discuss the ridiculous volume of hooker/escort ads featuring actually naked women, which are plastered all over basically every phone booth in the city. Then I wait with Win in the station until his platform is announced. He gets on his train. I find a pair of glasses on the ground, turn them into lost properties and go back. Now my tour begins.
I went to check out Covent Gardens, which is cool. The Photographer's Gallery, which is a free gallery with Photography, small but nice, made me think and there was some really cool stuff there. I meet a guy there who knew what and where Swampscott was (Leonard Neumann). Then I made my way to the Tate to see the history of British photography exhibit, How we Are. It was pretty cool. The older photographs although not as interesting, were still actually pretty interesting. Some of the newer photographers were really cool. Especially theses oversized pictures of British Marines by Alastair Thain who used a custom built dual lens digital large format camera, the pictures were really really intense. They were just portraits but the detail was incredible. Artistically they were good, but I was more intrigued by the technical aspect, i.e. the intense intense detail and sharpness. I then went back to the Apple Store on Regent Street (of course). The place is freaking gianormous! It has 4 full sized Apple logos on the front.... anyway- I introduced myself, checked my Apple webmail, and then (by the Manchester Apple guys suggestion) asked to be shown around the back rooms and offices, aka private tour. I got one. It was sick. I'm a little obsessed, maybe. But then again my Dad took more pictures of airplane engines on his vacations than of the views. Anyway, then there was this guy from Argentina on the sidewalk with his motorcycle "The Excalibur" that he's ridden everywhere. He was raising money for a new trip across the UK. The bike is sick, he was on West Coast Choppers, google it. I talked with him a bit (his English was bad and my Spanish was worse). I wandered some, then I began to walk down Regent Street, the wrong way, trying to get to Piccadilly Circus to exchange the boxers I got the day before (the package said M but there was a S inside). I finally realized it was the wrong way and turned around. I got to Piccadilly, exchanged the boxers and noticed and picked up a great London snow globe for the only person I know that collects snow globes from different places and the I have brought back a globe for before. Fantastic. So at this point its only like 6 or 7, but I'm hungry, and I haven't seen Big Ben yet. So I begin my quest for Fish and Chips, as I have not had "authentic" British Fish and chips yet. So one of the travel guides I have says there’s is a bomb ass fish and chips place at Waterloo, which happens to be right by Big Ben, perfect. So I go to Westminster tube stop (to see BB first and make my way towards Waterloo on foot).
Walking out from the Westminster tube stop (exit 4) was intense. Immediately I am facing, as far as I can see at the moment, a wall of a building. I get further out and tilt my head all the way back, wow. I have to say, I was really impressed and taken aback by Big Ben. Contrary to many famous attractions that loose their fizzle, or may not even look half as good in person as they do in pictures, BB holds it own. So I appreciate that and the Thames. I see the Eye, and begin my hunt. So the guide doesn't give a map, it just says, it’s on Waterloo Rd and under one of the skeeziest bridges in London. So I go here and I go there and I walk around, find the Waterloo Station stop and nose my way around past another bridge and finally, there it is, the sign glowing just as it had in on the semiglossy pages of Itchy, Fishcotheque. So I stroll in (and the bridge is pretty gross, but no worse than say the rail bridge next to Monty's... which I guess doesn't speak for much). And get served. Although it is on a plate and not in yesterday's newspaper, it still is delicious. Also, as a side note, England has made me acquire quite a taste for malted vinegar on French fries- sooo good. So I eat, and at this point its getting to be dusk, but not too dark yet. So I really want to make it onto the eye (I was told dusk, just as all the lights are coming on is perfect). So I nose my way over to the Eye, not that hard, its the huge freaking ferris wheel raping the skyline. So I get to it, get in line, and go to the guy with the portable ticket printer. I ask him for a ticket, then he asks me for a ticket... I was confused. I go, no, I don't have a ticket, I need a ticket. Then, very rudely he says, oh, well you need a ticket to get on (duh) and the place that sells tickets is that building over there (points). I say ok, then he continues as if Id interrupted him, but its closed, so you can't get a ticket, come back tomorrow. But I'm leaving tomorrow morning at 6am. Oh, too bad.
So that was that, I didn't get on the eye but its cool, my evening was just fine as it was. I then wander over to the park just beneath the eye to find a guy doing statue (yawn... but still cool). I guy playing Violin (I gave him a pound just cause, represent). Then a ragamuffin looking black guy playing Djembe and croaking out random Bob Marley lyrics... sick. I chill, listen to him. I introduce myself, tell him I have one at home, he lets me get a beat in for a bit. Then I turn around. All the lights on the Thames have come on. Big Ben, the Parliament, the Eye, have all sprung to life, It actually was fairly (for lack of a better word) breathtaking. I don't know if its just that its not in America, but again, it holds its own to the pictures, infact it was better. So I enjoy the scenery. Then I go back to hanging with the drummer. I chill there for a bit, relaxing, enjoying myself. He isn't that good or anything, but it was just cool. The city behind me, the park and Abeng (I got his name later) in front. Some people from different countries and some 16 year olds drinking beer around me. It was chill. Two female cops came over told them to finish up instead of giving them a fine. So Abeng wraps up and I head back to the bridge and the Westminster stop. I get to the bridge and its incredible. Big Ben is all lit up. From a far its cool, but up close it was spectacular. It was really cool. I also met a photographer on the bridge. He was shooting time exposures with a Canon, so I stood around over his shoulder. He was having trouble with his CF card and that’s when I started a conversation, starting with some solutions. Anyway his name was Jon Baker and he's going to give some of his 1DS 24mm L glass shots of BB, so I'm excited.
So I got in the Westminster station around 22:30. Now the tube is like the Metro, you pay per your zone, however, if you never leave the station, it doesn't charge you. Now, if you are familiar with the tube, you'll know that each station has its own Iconic "underground" sign with the name of the station. You also know that a train is called by the last stop it makes- e.g., the Commuter rail that stops in Swampscott ends in Rockport and is hence "the Rockport Line". Anyway so the Line with the hostel stop is known as the Piccadilly Line on maps (only because that is a major center and is a stop) but the actual trains note themselves with another name. Cockfosters. The last stop on the line. Ok, so being an immature, stupid American teenager the first couple times I heard the delicate but assertive automated female voice say, this train terminating at COCKFOSTERS I couldn't help but laugh out loud, even by the fifth time I would still crack a stupid grin. So here I am, on the tube, with 8 or so hours to kill and one goal. I want to take a picture with the Cockfosters sign. So I make my way from the Waterloo line, to the Victoria line, to the Piccadilli line. I then get very comfortable, and passing out inbetween every stop. Sometimes sleeping through stops, make my way to "the end of the line". About an hour later, I arrive. hope out, take some snaps, hope back on and ride back to Russel Square.
I get to the Generator, pick up my luggage still safely tucked away in the communal luggage room and head to the "chill out room". Well, first I stopped at the bar to get a Jack and Coke. So I'm in the COR with my Jack and Coke reading one of the best books ever (Confederacy of Dunces). And I forget exactly how it happened... I think I overheard their American accents or that they were from DC.... not sure. Anyway, point being I meet two girls from DC that go to George Mason. They are on a semester abroad at Oxford. We end up talking for two long and I realize if I wait any longer I'm going to be late for my flight.
They walk with me out to the bus station. I was going the wrong way. So after asking for directions, they head back to the hostel and I make my way to the bus stop.
This is where my personal hell begins.
So please, for me, imagine that I am carrying my duffelbag with all my clothes, my backpack full of pint glasses and electronics and a souvinier bag 4 blocks. Now, not to say it was impossible, just not comfortable. So I get to the street where the stop is at. I'm looking for Bus 24. The first bus I see coming down the street is 24! Awesome, what timing! So I start to flag down the bus, thinking I was at the right stop. The driver sees me, waves, then points down the street to another stop. So I half figure he's going to stop ahead. I think again and start running, with everything down the street. Of course, he keeps going. 3:02, the next bus is at 3:30ish. My flight is at 6. The Gatwick train runs every hour. It takes a 45mins from Victoria to the Airport, I have no idea how long it takes to get to Victoria from where I am. So I wait, and wait, the bus comes. I get to Victoria. Run in and check the board. Yes. There's a 4:00 train still up on the board... too bad its 4:05. The next train, I luck out is the Gatwick Express (30minute ride) too bad it doesnt leave until 4:30. So I get to the airport its 5:05, remember, my flight is at 6am, it's an international flight. Goodwork Adam, prove everyone right again.... So I get to the South terminal and its packed, on a Wednesday morning, at 5am.... fuck. So I cannot for the life of me find British Airways- I ask an attendent, she half heartedly points around the corner. I go around the corner (still carrying all my bags). I wait in what appears to be a line for a few minutes. Still no sign of British Airways. I ask someone else and after much argument (why is everyone so damn rude) I find out I'm not even at the right terminal. I have to take a monorail to the NORTH terminal. Its like 5:20. So I luck out and catch the tram exactly on its arrival. Get to the North terminal which is a clusterfuck. Even more packed, no distinct lines and overall mass chaos. I get to a automated checkin terminal. Scan my passport. Its too late for me to do automated check in. So I flag down an attendent who looks at me with two heads as if I would have the nerve to be so late (yea, I should have planned better, whatever, the girls were cute and lived near me at school, sue me). So she hurries me over to another desk and I am just now noticing the STRICTLY ONE CARRY ON LUGGAGE sign, hoping, praying that they only pertain to certain flights. I get my bag checked to the disdain of the attendent at the desk who announces to me that I got on by "the skin of my teeth" (she actually had to call the gate/control tower or whatever)... Anyway, so I get to security and the lady goes, you cant have two bags, I try to see if the wording was different, like on carry on and a personal item? NO, one bag. its like 5:40, so I very quickly rip open both bags, stuff more crap in my backpack and THANK Christ I was wearing my cargo shorts, all left over suveniers being shoved in my pockets, they actually fit, but just imagine like both my cargo pockets bursting with crap. That's ok, but an extra bag isnt.... right. So I get to security, put all my stuff on the belt and then they stop me. Not thinking I had kept the snow globe in my suvineer bag, its small right? Wrong, with no official marking on the ml/ouncage, it can't pass. I'm devistated. I can't check my bag because of all the pin glasses and I have no way of getting back to my other bag to shove it in. Besides its almost 10 to six. So I am forced to watch it get put in the trash tray as I scoop up my bag, restuff my pockets and proceed to sprint to my gate, which as always for me is in one of the farest away terminal wings possible.
Great.
Well, at least I made it to the gate on time. I got on the plane and was on my way. So thats that. Next up- the last few days in Espana!!!
Saturday, July 28, 2007
PS
I also realized I didnt tell you about the rest of London, but that will have to wait seeing as I´m out of money for time! Cheers/Adios
¡España!
¡Hola, Saludos de España¡ Es fantastico aqui. Las playas y las vistas es muy bonitas. Las mujeres es guapas ;) La comida es delicioso. Hace calor y es mucho sol y no hace lloviendo!!!!! Chris es no aqui en la cyber cafe, asi el no pueda revisar mi escritura. Eh, lo que.
HAHA, hoy tu debe aprender (¿que esta?) Español a comprende mi. (¡ese es el peor sentencia yo esta tomando escrito siempre! Yo no tengo idea como a escribe. ¿¿¿???
Anyway, as much as a I don´t want to break out el inglés, my complete lack of grammar as well as my shallow and failing Spanish vocabulary have forced me back into my native tongue.
Anyway, I´m having a fantastic freaking time. The beaches, views, and women are beautiful!!! The last two days have been la farea, or the fair. Torre del Mar is a little fishing town and their partron saint is Santa Anna, the mother of the virgin mary or Jesus´s grandmother, two days ago was her saint day so the last two days have been a party virtually all day and night. I have no concept of days or time right now, because a you might wake up at 9 and get Churros or breakfast- stay up and do things (like I am now) or siesta (pass out) then eat lunch or ¨dinner¨ at 2 or 3 and go out then eat a snack or something at 6 then go out to the fiesta at 11 or 1130 (2300). And stay out till 3 or w.e. Anyway, my last two days have been similiar. Also Im giving up on most punctuation as these keyboards are ridiculous, so deal with it. If it isnt a period or comma it aint gonna be in here. But I digress. So two days ago Thursday? (ok, some exceptions of course) We got up, had churros with Chriss uncle Miguel the ex spanish general. Then passed out, went out for a bit then came back, showered, then went out at 2330 to la farea, rode the ship walked around, and then went to the bars anda few clubs. Came home, passed out, woke up at 10? made breakfast (i made huevos). Vamos a la playa, we went to the beach, had lunch, showered and went out around 1600 (4pm) and went straight to the main tent.
See they have these two tents set up righ across from the beach where their is a live band, lots of temporary bars and lots and lots of people. Imagine the NOOD tent times 10 with lots of fresh costal spanish food and better beer and instead of rich guys with boats and hardcore sailors, hardcore spanish teens and 20 somethings with lot and lots of makeshift Sangria. Seriously, EVERYONE had at least two water jugs (5 liters each) of psuedo-sangria, ie vinto tinto, sugar, Fanta limon and various cut up fruit. It was insane. So Chirs and I pound down a few cups of this ¨purple drink¨ and we´re dancing and theirs just so many people all around and the music is playing and most of it is spanish, but people just start squirting each other with thier jugs (ahahahahahhahaha) of sangria (they poked holes in the caps). Ok, run on sentence, let me try this again.
Ok, So we are under the open tent with a large band and female singer. We are enjoying cup after cup of psuedo-sangria and dancing with some of Chriss Spain friends (A kid I dont know his name still y Carmen y Julia y Amanda). The crowd is crazy, everyone has poked holes in the caps of thier giant containers and are squirting drink in the air in each others mouth, at each other. Its just crazy. Everyone is dancing and throwing thier hands in the air. The musica is mostly all Spanish but like almost all countries they still have some American classics. So Chris and I are pretty good at this point, estoy borracho. And all of a sudden they singer starts in ¨At first I was afriad, I was petrified...¨ So, ecstatic with recognition, we start belting it out. And at this point, my shirts off (im in a beater) but covered in Sangria, Chris (is whering a button up) his shirt is open , all of our friends are in similar sorts (but no one is naked, mom) and we´re all covered in Sangria and sweat and water from the misters and or people using squirt guns(they ran tubing above the tents to keep people cool) And we´re just a freaking mess but we all start singing along and jumping up and down in unison with our arms around eachothers shoulders like an (american) football team hyping up for a game. It was incredible. So we dance and sing and of course drink so more. The we go to the beach to wash off (yes, we were drunk, yes, we went in the water, yes, its a pretty stupid idea, but i wasnt that drunk and we only went up to our waists... yes, it doesnt matter and yes, i will probably do it again.- At least we didnt swim out to the buoy (that was two days ago (the first day of the fair))) So we´re swimming around and Chris forgets his camera in his pocket! (Its drying now) but we are just all chilling and playing in the water, which is gorgoeus. And then we get out and wash off in the beach shower. Then we cross the street and SOAKING wet, make our way into a few clubs. We find one we like and just jam out. A club at like 6 or 7pm when its bright as the dickens out. (it doesnt get dark until like 11) It was fun. But not as fun as the tent. Also, some other highhlights of the day, after the tent and before the water I got some Paella (seafood, chicken, rice and saffron) and a real HAMburger. Delicious. Torre del Mar used to be, and is a huge fishing town, think Nahant to the 5th power. So aside from having like a million pescadorias or fish markets (stores), the whole fair is based around Santa Anna and fisherman. So alot of their food is sea based. (Mira, I´m learning too!). Anyway, so unlike the night before (two days ago) where we went back inbetween the afternoon and night, we stumbled back to the house, after the clubs probably around 7,8 9 at the latest because it was stil bright out, i think like 730ish. And, although we planned to nap and then go back out. Chris y yo estabamos muy barrachos so we kind of slept through till morning. So anyway. Today, we got up at 8am, got Churros and that brings me to now. Yep.
So my trip is basically a sometimes somewhat drunken alternative learning adventure.
I´m ok with that.
So yea, since my phone has been dead (no clock) and we take so many naps, the days are kind of all blurring together, and its not that I can´t remember that I did something, its that I just am not sure WHEN I did it. So no worries, I´m staying safe and being careful. I´ll continue to tell you all about it, just don´t quote me on the sequence or times. ;)
¡Adios!
HAHA, hoy tu debe aprender (¿que esta?) Español a comprende mi. (¡ese es el peor sentencia yo esta tomando escrito siempre! Yo no tengo idea como a escribe. ¿¿¿???
Anyway, as much as a I don´t want to break out el inglés, my complete lack of grammar as well as my shallow and failing Spanish vocabulary have forced me back into my native tongue.
Anyway, I´m having a fantastic freaking time. The beaches, views, and women are beautiful!!! The last two days have been la farea, or the fair. Torre del Mar is a little fishing town and their partron saint is Santa Anna, the mother of the virgin mary or Jesus´s grandmother, two days ago was her saint day so the last two days have been a party virtually all day and night. I have no concept of days or time right now, because a you might wake up at 9 and get Churros or breakfast- stay up and do things (like I am now) or siesta (pass out) then eat lunch or ¨dinner¨ at 2 or 3 and go out then eat a snack or something at 6 then go out to the fiesta at 11 or 1130 (2300). And stay out till 3 or w.e. Anyway, my last two days have been similiar. Also Im giving up on most punctuation as these keyboards are ridiculous, so deal with it. If it isnt a period or comma it aint gonna be in here. But I digress. So two days ago Thursday? (ok, some exceptions of course) We got up, had churros with Chriss uncle Miguel the ex spanish general. Then passed out, went out for a bit then came back, showered, then went out at 2330 to la farea, rode the ship walked around, and then went to the bars anda few clubs. Came home, passed out, woke up at 10? made breakfast (i made huevos). Vamos a la playa, we went to the beach, had lunch, showered and went out around 1600 (4pm) and went straight to the main tent.
See they have these two tents set up righ across from the beach where their is a live band, lots of temporary bars and lots and lots of people. Imagine the NOOD tent times 10 with lots of fresh costal spanish food and better beer and instead of rich guys with boats and hardcore sailors, hardcore spanish teens and 20 somethings with lot and lots of makeshift Sangria. Seriously, EVERYONE had at least two water jugs (5 liters each) of psuedo-sangria, ie vinto tinto, sugar, Fanta limon and various cut up fruit. It was insane. So Chirs and I pound down a few cups of this ¨purple drink¨ and we´re dancing and theirs just so many people all around and the music is playing and most of it is spanish, but people just start squirting each other with thier jugs (ahahahahahhahaha) of sangria (they poked holes in the caps). Ok, run on sentence, let me try this again.
Ok, So we are under the open tent with a large band and female singer. We are enjoying cup after cup of psuedo-sangria and dancing with some of Chriss Spain friends (A kid I dont know his name still y Carmen y Julia y Amanda). The crowd is crazy, everyone has poked holes in the caps of thier giant containers and are squirting drink in the air in each others mouth, at each other. Its just crazy. Everyone is dancing and throwing thier hands in the air. The musica is mostly all Spanish but like almost all countries they still have some American classics. So Chris and I are pretty good at this point, estoy borracho. And all of a sudden they singer starts in ¨At first I was afriad, I was petrified...¨ So, ecstatic with recognition, we start belting it out. And at this point, my shirts off (im in a beater) but covered in Sangria, Chris (is whering a button up) his shirt is open , all of our friends are in similar sorts (but no one is naked, mom) and we´re all covered in Sangria and sweat and water from the misters and or people using squirt guns(they ran tubing above the tents to keep people cool) And we´re just a freaking mess but we all start singing along and jumping up and down in unison with our arms around eachothers shoulders like an (american) football team hyping up for a game. It was incredible. So we dance and sing and of course drink so more. The we go to the beach to wash off (yes, we were drunk, yes, we went in the water, yes, its a pretty stupid idea, but i wasnt that drunk and we only went up to our waists... yes, it doesnt matter and yes, i will probably do it again.- At least we didnt swim out to the buoy (that was two days ago (the first day of the fair))) So we´re swimming around and Chris forgets his camera in his pocket! (Its drying now) but we are just all chilling and playing in the water, which is gorgoeus. And then we get out and wash off in the beach shower. Then we cross the street and SOAKING wet, make our way into a few clubs. We find one we like and just jam out. A club at like 6 or 7pm when its bright as the dickens out. (it doesnt get dark until like 11) It was fun. But not as fun as the tent. Also, some other highhlights of the day, after the tent and before the water I got some Paella (seafood, chicken, rice and saffron) and a real HAMburger. Delicious. Torre del Mar used to be, and is a huge fishing town, think Nahant to the 5th power. So aside from having like a million pescadorias or fish markets (stores), the whole fair is based around Santa Anna and fisherman. So alot of their food is sea based. (Mira, I´m learning too!). Anyway, so unlike the night before (two days ago) where we went back inbetween the afternoon and night, we stumbled back to the house, after the clubs probably around 7,8 9 at the latest because it was stil bright out, i think like 730ish. And, although we planned to nap and then go back out. Chris y yo estabamos muy barrachos so we kind of slept through till morning. So anyway. Today, we got up at 8am, got Churros and that brings me to now. Yep.
So my trip is basically a sometimes somewhat drunken alternative learning adventure.
I´m ok with that.
So yea, since my phone has been dead (no clock) and we take so many naps, the days are kind of all blurring together, and its not that I can´t remember that I did something, its that I just am not sure WHEN I did it. So no worries, I´m staying safe and being careful. I´ll continue to tell you all about it, just don´t quote me on the sequence or times. ;)
¡Adios!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
London, the first 13hours.
Ok, seeing as the last very recent entry took me almost 3 hours to write and was probably a bit of something for you to read- I'll be brief.
After a very delayed flight we arrived, got to the hostel and went out wandering for food. In the process of asking everyone I saw where to get a decent bite at this hour (0030 i think) I ran into a New Yorker from Queens (attended Brooklyn Tech '02 if you were wondering) Named Susanna or Suko for short (half Japanese). She lead us to Subway, and from there we went on an adventure. We walked to Camden which was bustling and investigated some sketchy people. Left Camden and walked back to her flat (which is one block from the hostel) and chilled there fore a little bit. From there we jogged (as it had gotten quite cold) back to the hostel and made it to our beds where we found two pretty girls sleeping in the lower bunks. We passed out as quietly as possible and then woke up at 10, met Jess and Nat (Natalee) two Aussies from Melborne on somewhat of an extended holiday (they just quit thier jobs because they were sick of them and were traveling Europe for 8 weeks). Afterwhich, I used my previous knowlege from Dublin and scouting from last night- went to the Holiday Inn down the street- utilized the premises, tried to hack the internet computer, got asked to leave and that brings me to here. Now I'm gonma get off my ass, rip Win from the 7th Harry Potter book and go do something.
Cheers + Love
After a very delayed flight we arrived, got to the hostel and went out wandering for food. In the process of asking everyone I saw where to get a decent bite at this hour (0030 i think) I ran into a New Yorker from Queens (attended Brooklyn Tech '02 if you were wondering) Named Susanna or Suko for short (half Japanese). She lead us to Subway, and from there we went on an adventure. We walked to Camden which was bustling and investigated some sketchy people. Left Camden and walked back to her flat (which is one block from the hostel) and chilled there fore a little bit. From there we jogged (as it had gotten quite cold) back to the hostel and made it to our beds where we found two pretty girls sleeping in the lower bunks. We passed out as quietly as possible and then woke up at 10, met Jess and Nat (Natalee) two Aussies from Melborne on somewhat of an extended holiday (they just quit thier jobs because they were sick of them and were traveling Europe for 8 weeks). Afterwhich, I used my previous knowlege from Dublin and scouting from last night- went to the Holiday Inn down the street- utilized the premises, tried to hack the internet computer, got asked to leave and that brings me to here. Now I'm gonma get off my ass, rip Win from the 7th Harry Potter book and go do something.
Cheers + Love
Good Morning, or something.
Hello all.
So here I am in London. We arrived last night around 11 after a much delayed flight. First from weather, then the conveyorbelt got stuck under the aircraft so we had to switch planes. 737-800, so you know (not the A321 I listed... I took plenty of pictures of the engines for you Daddio, I believe they are of the CFM flavor right?...56-7B27?)
Anyway,
So we got in at 11- caught the Gatwick Express to Victoria (30min) then the Underground from Victoria to Greene Park and Greene Park to Russel Square (20-30min?). The hostile is a block and a half from the station surrounded by apartments, a shopping center and various hotels.
Now the hotels detail should not be overlooked- as they are known for their "grown-up" and not student friendly pricing, they are famous (in my book) as a first class alternative to hostels (note the s) "facilities" shall we say. So when the choice comes to doing your business in a 85mm by 1m box (or approx 2.5x3ft for those silly Americans- think broom closet..., and I'm not exagerating, I had to climb onto the toliet to close the door, that opened in, such poor design, but more on that later...) or a dormroom (ok, 8'x5') size personal washroom complete with marble decore, personal sink and fancy soaps- what would you choose? Exactly. So noting the presence of local first rate accomodations, such as the Hilton London and Holiday Inn London is citical. Anyway- I've made my introduction so now lets rewind a bit so I can catch you all up on my (or "our", Mom, still not traveling alone) recent affairs, and unfortunately (or to mom's relief) not the Bill Clinton kind.
-----------------------------------
Dublin
So Dublin was a whirlwind of alcohol, bad smells, cheap food, flimsy beds, rain, walking and I'm sure if I could remember- stumbling. It was a cacophonic plethora of tourist vivacity, a wizbang wollywomp of rumpus raucous, a circus of ups and downs, ins and outs- fantastical wonders, celtic mayhem! and of course, pubs. Many many many pubs. Infact, I don't believe it is possible to travel more than 20 paces without at least 2 pubs in your peripheral vision, if not right in front of you.
3 days, 2 nights, one incredibly smelly room, 8 other roommates, 17 pubs, tens of attractions and several several pints.
But enough mucking about and procrastination here's how it all went down.
5:50AM July 19th 2007
Wake up,
Airport
Check In
Flight (737-800) MAN-DUB
We arrived in Dublin city around 11. The buildings and view were great, resembling any other large old city. Historic, important and powerful and somewhat quaint at the sametime. We wondered around and found ourselves breakfast, opting for the Small Irish instead of the Full Irish, which is more or less an English without beans and with a crepe ish thing instead of bread. We kept wandering and wandering. Its cool, all of the major signs in Dublin are written in both English and Gaelic.
Anyway, our wandering brings about many famous churchs and buildings and then of course, The Jameson Distillery... So we go in. We get tickets for the tour and at the begining two volunteers are required for something later in the tour, I of course raise my hand and it being only 12:15 am one of the few awake enough to raise so get picked. Needless to say, very interesting process of distilling and maturing, blah blah, and yada yada yada I had six shots. 13:20, 3 hours passed, and six shots deep, Dublin at its finest. Well anyway, let me explian. So When I volunteered, I had actually been chosen as one of the "Whisky Taste Testers". A comparison taste test that took place at the end of the tour compariong Johnny Walker's Scottish Scotch Whisky (which a smokey peaty taste, as a result of the malting method in which they use a peat fuel that emmits alot of fullbodied smoke, as opposed to the irish method that uses a smokeless, oderless fuel (see I learned something)), to American Jack Daniels (which posesses a sweeter taste, distinct perfume as a result of its single distillation from corn or maize, not barley) to two differnt Irish Whiskies, Powders (a brand rarely if ever seen out of IE due to its low production volumes, it has a very spicy and fruity taste), and Middletons (a milder, fruity spicy but sweet whisky) to of course the Jameson 12 year (a 10.75 pound- 22USD$ shot) (a smooth, pleasant blend of vanilla, cherrie and fruity notes, achieved by using multiple batches of preseasoned barrels in the correct quantities, comment if you want more detail, I know the whole process now). Anyway, needless to say Jameson was actually the best and for participating, and "choosing correctly" I got yet another shot of Jameson Original- so I had the five testers plus the one reward. I also received an official Whisky tester certificate. At the tasting we also met a girl named Emma who was a stereotypical looking Swedish 20 something pastry chef on holiday from her job at a major hotel in Stockholm. Originally we were going to do the Guinness brewery storehouse tomorrow but that was her next stop, so we tailed along.
The storehouse wasn't as satisfying touristically speaking, it was all self guided, very "look at me! I was just build, I have stylish designer typefaces" and seeminly overrated. However the view from atop the "Gravity Bar" where you get an elevated 360 view of Dublin while enjoying a "complimentary" pint of Guinness was worth it in itself. I say complimentary because even at a Student discount its like 8£ (16$) per person and I'm almost positive anyone could just walk in and guide themself on the tour, the only thing they wouldnt get is the token you redeem for a pint at the top. Anyway, it was worth it for the view.
So then we continue to wander (Dublin was ALOT of wandering if you havent noticed) get food and head back to the hostel. We then proceed to pass out for about 4ish hours. We get up and its still BRIGHT out, but its almost 9pm. As we wake up we find another hostel goer getting in. Susanna, who I introduce myself to is a cute 20yo girl from Germany and is traveling around. I invite her out on our first pubcrawl and she accepts only she has to get up early so will probably leave prematurely. So we hit John Mulligans on Poolbeg street which I heard was the best pint of Guinness in Ireland. It was. Even better than that of the Guinness factory. Anyway we go to a few more places, Susanna leaves around number 3. We hit two more (one isnt serving anymore). Hit the 5th and then head back. We arn't that bad and it's only 12:30 but we are exhausted and pass out around 12:40.
The next day we wake up, get breakfast at 9 and embark on Bus touring. Now I'll spare you all the details now but (and Mom you'll be happy to know) I learned a significant amount of Irish history and info about Dublin on the tours. I even took notes! Anyway, we got to Dublin Castle and got off and looked around, it was pretty cool, again I'll spare you the educational details but you may want to know that there is only one remaining tower of the original 1204 castle, the rest was rebuilt in 1750 and another bit rebuilt again in 1988- for the why and how, comment and I'll answer. Needless to say, and being completely honest- Dublin was built on Rebellion and Beer. If part of it wasn't built by Arthur Guinness or one of his sons, it was built by a revelutionary or as a result of a rebuild from an uprising or destruction. Also, the official symbol of Ireland is NOT the Shamrock, that is the catholic symbol brought to IE by St.Patrick when he came over in 432BC (AD) the official symbol is actually a golden harp on blue background (or just the Harp in most cases).
Anyway, so on this bus tour, the guide mentioned that the historic Temple Bar area contains 35 Pubs, and thus a challenge was born. Now, you may be thinking, my G-d 35 pubs, you are stupid and how did you not die, but if you say that you would be speaking too soon. See, myself being the mature, intelligent, sensical and most importantly modest individual I am set a much more reasonable and obtainable goal of hitting One Third (1/3) of the Temple Bar Bars making it 12 as the goal. I also reduced the customary pint drink to a half pint minimum, so we could drink a half pint and still go about calling it a hit.
We set out, however we quickly realized we were hungry. So we ventured into the full kitchen which is strictly serve yourself. Having no ingredients of our own Nichols the manager pointed us in the direction of the FREE BIN- this is where aging garlic flower and sugar, various left overs of malt vinager, grated dry cheese and cooking vingar wine had made its way to over the weeks. So we located two open bags of pasta that seemed somewhat fresh, garlic cloves, cooking wine vinegar, the malt vinegar, flour, sugar, a bit of oil we stole, grated cheese, and a bag of clearly old, tomato soup bullion. We had a plan. I boiled the pasta in a sea salt, garlic, wine and water mix while Win stewed up the soup mix to which I added a touch of flour to in an attempt to gain thickness for use as a sauce. I then carmelized some garlic in a sugar, flour, salt batter in oil, and after the initial sauce was done, added them to the sauce, stirred and let steep. I drained the pasta, Win added the sauce, we mixed, served, topped with cheese and actually, believe it or not, enjoyed! We were extremely pleasantly surprised at the results and congratulated ourselves on the obvious expression of culinary mastery we just displayed. The entire meal was free, filling and good- so we headed out. We entered Temple Bar and proceeded to hit 12 pubs, the order of which I will not remember without picture assistance (which is upstairs right now) however, we did enjoy 7 pints total as well as another round at SuperMac's- the "100% Irish" clone of McDonald's then a stumble of which I only vaugely remember parts of back to our room. To find it empty and 22:20 (10:20pm) (We started at about 18:30). I don't really recall much but the journal entry which I discovered the next morning (which I had no recollection of writing, explains it all)-
July 20th 10:20
already completelu
housed but made
our goal - 12 bars
bars. goodnight
Supermace
Supermacs - good
night - very
shitfaced
So when I say next morning, I mean 3:43am July 21st. I woke up due to rain, and an urge to pee. So I get back and lay down, but to no avail cannot pass back out. I then try to remember what time we got in (and not remembering I made an entry) get very dissapointed inmyself that I forgot to make an entry documenting it. So I go to write and 5 words in see the entry above and for a second sit amazed at my dedication and excellent. Even in complete intoxicated ignorance and discombobulation I managed to unzip my bag, get out my journal, scribble away some notes, replace my journal perfectly and rezip my bag. However the circumstances are clearly evident in the penmenship. Anyway, so as I lie wide awake in my bed, apparently me getting up activated a cycle, as each other hostel member got up one at a time and in a senquencial clockwise order to go to the bathroom, they then began a concerto of gastric proportions. The maestros de los sphyntos ceased at around 4 but the smell remained. Not to mention the somewhat vile smell of sour milk and BO already present in the belongs of the oppiste sleeper whos boots and old laundry lay at the end of my bed. (Susanna had checked out that morning along with any other females, leaveing the room a complete sausage fest- and a seemingly rotten and festering one at that).
Anyway, so I decide that there is no way I'm getting back to sleep and I am very thirsty. so at about 4:15 in shorts, an undershirt and flip flops I venture out across O'Connel Bridge (I could go on about its history, if you want) for a 24 hour convience store, I also call Zack, talking to Zack was nice, I miss him. (its only 1130EDT).I go to Londis and I get some Evian (because its Cheaper than Volvic, mistake, you get what you pay for- Evian in EU is TERRIBLE, but its still water). Zack told me he came over and talked to my parents that night, amusing. Anyway, so I get back and chat with some of the hostel staff that is up and about at the reception desk. Then I go upstairs. Suddenly and without warning, the tolls of last night all become very apparent and I quickly position myself with much effort and discomfort in the 2ftx3ft closet that is a bathroom (mentioned in the intro) in a sitting position. A long battle ensues mainly fought in the wet mudd trenches and at sea, in several waves. Somewhat relieved I return to the room, thinking that possibly the emminence of the battle may be what prevented my slumber. Alas, I still cannot sleep . I then discover that Win has also woken up (most likely from the mass urination exodus or the butt-trumpet recital that followed.) and has not be able to return to sandman land. After telling me about my bedroom behavour last night in which (in a luckty vacant room, aside from Win) I apparently, right after I lay down, shot up screaming "fuck fuck! My journal, I didn't make an entry, fuck, I need to make an entry." followed by a shaking of Win in distressed excitement, "I'm gonna do it now!"- immediately followed by a hasty retrival and scribbling on the bed, stowing of the journal, then an abrupt passing out.
I shared my amusement and we set out. Its about 6. We wander and wander, walking much of the north part of southern Dublin. We stumble across a place called "next" (imagine if express and luckybrand merged, and Express was the dominant parent) have a 5am sale. So I go in, because, what the hell else were we going to do. I buy a polo (thier sized are much smaller, the Large fits like a snug medium.) We exit hastily after I get wind, or more correctly, the other sale goer get wind of another oncoming battle. Refusing to return to that desolate infant sized prison cell, I immediately seek an open hotel. After many awkward positions and funny walk, Wins amusement and my pain- I locate the Westin: Dublin. At 6:30am there really isn't much staff around the main reception area and we steal away to the Mezenane level where I discover the Cadillac of poopin stools- the largest handicap stall, I have ever seen. Now I call it a stall because it is actually located within another bathroom, and thus cannot be its own. But for all intents and purposes, it was its own room. Complete with personal washsink. A battle raged for a while as Win entertained himself with his new cellphone ringtons (his replacement cell is a story in itself). Afterwards, I was much relieved- my innards evacuated, feeling exceptionally "empty".
7:05, after more wandering, as we stroll down O'Connel street, I boldly stand and declare
"Dublin has needledick."
You see, in WWII or what have you, the pillar in the main square was bombed and then recently it was rebuilt as a giant moderist stainless still needle that stretches several hundred feet into the sky. It stands in the middle of the main shopping district and screams for comment.
8am - to finish in brief-
We shower and have toast and cereal- wander, go to a few more sites, wander some more, catch a bus and are on our way to London.
...oh and I very brief recap of my last day in Manchester
Went to Manchester city, went to the Townhall, The John Rylands Library, saw some really old books, then the Arndale Shopping Centre, found and Apple Store, introduced myself got along marvelously with the staff, stayed, chatted and got invited to drinks. Had them come to the Church instead. Entertained at the Church, talked Apple stuff, hung out with Tom, Anthony, Win and Rob, went to bed. 5:50... see above.
So here I am in London. We arrived last night around 11 after a much delayed flight. First from weather, then the conveyorbelt got stuck under the aircraft so we had to switch planes. 737-800, so you know (not the A321 I listed... I took plenty of pictures of the engines for you Daddio, I believe they are of the CFM flavor right?...56-7B27?)
Anyway,
So we got in at 11- caught the Gatwick Express to Victoria (30min) then the Underground from Victoria to Greene Park and Greene Park to Russel Square (20-30min?). The hostile is a block and a half from the station surrounded by apartments, a shopping center and various hotels.
Now the hotels detail should not be overlooked- as they are known for their "grown-up" and not student friendly pricing, they are famous (in my book) as a first class alternative to hostels (note the s) "facilities" shall we say. So when the choice comes to doing your business in a 85mm by 1m box (or approx 2.5x3ft for those silly Americans- think broom closet..., and I'm not exagerating, I had to climb onto the toliet to close the door, that opened in, such poor design, but more on that later...) or a dormroom (ok, 8'x5') size personal washroom complete with marble decore, personal sink and fancy soaps- what would you choose? Exactly. So noting the presence of local first rate accomodations, such as the Hilton London and Holiday Inn London is citical. Anyway- I've made my introduction so now lets rewind a bit so I can catch you all up on my (or "our", Mom, still not traveling alone) recent affairs, and unfortunately (or to mom's relief) not the Bill Clinton kind.
-----------------------------------
Dublin
So Dublin was a whirlwind of alcohol, bad smells, cheap food, flimsy beds, rain, walking and I'm sure if I could remember- stumbling. It was a cacophonic plethora of tourist vivacity, a wizbang wollywomp of rumpus raucous, a circus of ups and downs, ins and outs- fantastical wonders, celtic mayhem! and of course, pubs. Many many many pubs. Infact, I don't believe it is possible to travel more than 20 paces without at least 2 pubs in your peripheral vision, if not right in front of you.
3 days, 2 nights, one incredibly smelly room, 8 other roommates, 17 pubs, tens of attractions and several several pints.
But enough mucking about and procrastination here's how it all went down.
5:50AM July 19th 2007
Wake up,
Airport
Check In
Flight (737-800) MAN-DUB
We arrived in Dublin city around 11. The buildings and view were great, resembling any other large old city. Historic, important and powerful and somewhat quaint at the sametime. We wondered around and found ourselves breakfast, opting for the Small Irish instead of the Full Irish, which is more or less an English without beans and with a crepe ish thing instead of bread. We kept wandering and wandering. Its cool, all of the major signs in Dublin are written in both English and Gaelic.
Anyway, our wandering brings about many famous churchs and buildings and then of course, The Jameson Distillery... So we go in. We get tickets for the tour and at the begining two volunteers are required for something later in the tour, I of course raise my hand and it being only 12:15 am one of the few awake enough to raise so get picked. Needless to say, very interesting process of distilling and maturing, blah blah, and yada yada yada I had six shots. 13:20, 3 hours passed, and six shots deep, Dublin at its finest. Well anyway, let me explian. So When I volunteered, I had actually been chosen as one of the "Whisky Taste Testers". A comparison taste test that took place at the end of the tour compariong Johnny Walker's Scottish Scotch Whisky (which a smokey peaty taste, as a result of the malting method in which they use a peat fuel that emmits alot of fullbodied smoke, as opposed to the irish method that uses a smokeless, oderless fuel (see I learned something)), to American Jack Daniels (which posesses a sweeter taste, distinct perfume as a result of its single distillation from corn or maize, not barley) to two differnt Irish Whiskies, Powders (a brand rarely if ever seen out of IE due to its low production volumes, it has a very spicy and fruity taste), and Middletons (a milder, fruity spicy but sweet whisky) to of course the Jameson 12 year (a 10.75 pound- 22USD$ shot) (a smooth, pleasant blend of vanilla, cherrie and fruity notes, achieved by using multiple batches of preseasoned barrels in the correct quantities, comment if you want more detail, I know the whole process now). Anyway, needless to say Jameson was actually the best and for participating, and "choosing correctly" I got yet another shot of Jameson Original- so I had the five testers plus the one reward. I also received an official Whisky tester certificate. At the tasting we also met a girl named Emma who was a stereotypical looking Swedish 20 something pastry chef on holiday from her job at a major hotel in Stockholm. Originally we were going to do the Guinness brewery storehouse tomorrow but that was her next stop, so we tailed along.
The storehouse wasn't as satisfying touristically speaking, it was all self guided, very "look at me! I was just build, I have stylish designer typefaces" and seeminly overrated. However the view from atop the "Gravity Bar" where you get an elevated 360 view of Dublin while enjoying a "complimentary" pint of Guinness was worth it in itself. I say complimentary because even at a Student discount its like 8£ (16$) per person and I'm almost positive anyone could just walk in and guide themself on the tour, the only thing they wouldnt get is the token you redeem for a pint at the top. Anyway, it was worth it for the view.
So then we continue to wander (Dublin was ALOT of wandering if you havent noticed) get food and head back to the hostel. We then proceed to pass out for about 4ish hours. We get up and its still BRIGHT out, but its almost 9pm. As we wake up we find another hostel goer getting in. Susanna, who I introduce myself to is a cute 20yo girl from Germany and is traveling around. I invite her out on our first pubcrawl and she accepts only she has to get up early so will probably leave prematurely. So we hit John Mulligans on Poolbeg street which I heard was the best pint of Guinness in Ireland. It was. Even better than that of the Guinness factory. Anyway we go to a few more places, Susanna leaves around number 3. We hit two more (one isnt serving anymore). Hit the 5th and then head back. We arn't that bad and it's only 12:30 but we are exhausted and pass out around 12:40.
The next day we wake up, get breakfast at 9 and embark on Bus touring. Now I'll spare you all the details now but (and Mom you'll be happy to know) I learned a significant amount of Irish history and info about Dublin on the tours. I even took notes! Anyway, we got to Dublin Castle and got off and looked around, it was pretty cool, again I'll spare you the educational details but you may want to know that there is only one remaining tower of the original 1204 castle, the rest was rebuilt in 1750 and another bit rebuilt again in 1988- for the why and how, comment and I'll answer. Needless to say, and being completely honest- Dublin was built on Rebellion and Beer. If part of it wasn't built by Arthur Guinness or one of his sons, it was built by a revelutionary or as a result of a rebuild from an uprising or destruction. Also, the official symbol of Ireland is NOT the Shamrock, that is the catholic symbol brought to IE by St.Patrick when he came over in 432BC (AD) the official symbol is actually a golden harp on blue background (or just the Harp in most cases).
Anyway, so on this bus tour, the guide mentioned that the historic Temple Bar area contains 35 Pubs, and thus a challenge was born. Now, you may be thinking, my G-d 35 pubs, you are stupid and how did you not die, but if you say that you would be speaking too soon. See, myself being the mature, intelligent, sensical and most importantly modest individual I am set a much more reasonable and obtainable goal of hitting One Third (1/3) of the Temple Bar Bars making it 12 as the goal. I also reduced the customary pint drink to a half pint minimum, so we could drink a half pint and still go about calling it a hit.
We set out, however we quickly realized we were hungry. So we ventured into the full kitchen which is strictly serve yourself. Having no ingredients of our own Nichols the manager pointed us in the direction of the FREE BIN- this is where aging garlic flower and sugar, various left overs of malt vinager, grated dry cheese and cooking vingar wine had made its way to over the weeks. So we located two open bags of pasta that seemed somewhat fresh, garlic cloves, cooking wine vinegar, the malt vinegar, flour, sugar, a bit of oil we stole, grated cheese, and a bag of clearly old, tomato soup bullion. We had a plan. I boiled the pasta in a sea salt, garlic, wine and water mix while Win stewed up the soup mix to which I added a touch of flour to in an attempt to gain thickness for use as a sauce. I then carmelized some garlic in a sugar, flour, salt batter in oil, and after the initial sauce was done, added them to the sauce, stirred and let steep. I drained the pasta, Win added the sauce, we mixed, served, topped with cheese and actually, believe it or not, enjoyed! We were extremely pleasantly surprised at the results and congratulated ourselves on the obvious expression of culinary mastery we just displayed. The entire meal was free, filling and good- so we headed out. We entered Temple Bar and proceeded to hit 12 pubs, the order of which I will not remember without picture assistance (which is upstairs right now) however, we did enjoy 7 pints total as well as another round at SuperMac's- the "100% Irish" clone of McDonald's then a stumble of which I only vaugely remember parts of back to our room. To find it empty and 22:20 (10:20pm) (We started at about 18:30). I don't really recall much but the journal entry which I discovered the next morning (which I had no recollection of writing, explains it all)-
July 20th 10:20
already completelu
housed but made
our goal - 12 bars
bars. goodnight
Supermace
Supermacs - good
night - very
shitfaced
So when I say next morning, I mean 3:43am July 21st. I woke up due to rain, and an urge to pee. So I get back and lay down, but to no avail cannot pass back out. I then try to remember what time we got in (and not remembering I made an entry) get very dissapointed inmyself that I forgot to make an entry documenting it. So I go to write and 5 words in see the entry above and for a second sit amazed at my dedication and excellent. Even in complete intoxicated ignorance and discombobulation I managed to unzip my bag, get out my journal, scribble away some notes, replace my journal perfectly and rezip my bag. However the circumstances are clearly evident in the penmenship. Anyway, so as I lie wide awake in my bed, apparently me getting up activated a cycle, as each other hostel member got up one at a time and in a senquencial clockwise order to go to the bathroom, they then began a concerto of gastric proportions. The maestros de los sphyntos ceased at around 4 but the smell remained. Not to mention the somewhat vile smell of sour milk and BO already present in the belongs of the oppiste sleeper whos boots and old laundry lay at the end of my bed. (Susanna had checked out that morning along with any other females, leaveing the room a complete sausage fest- and a seemingly rotten and festering one at that).
Anyway, so I decide that there is no way I'm getting back to sleep and I am very thirsty. so at about 4:15 in shorts, an undershirt and flip flops I venture out across O'Connel Bridge (I could go on about its history, if you want) for a 24 hour convience store, I also call Zack, talking to Zack was nice, I miss him. (its only 1130EDT).I go to Londis and I get some Evian (because its Cheaper than Volvic, mistake, you get what you pay for- Evian in EU is TERRIBLE, but its still water). Zack told me he came over and talked to my parents that night, amusing. Anyway, so I get back and chat with some of the hostel staff that is up and about at the reception desk. Then I go upstairs. Suddenly and without warning, the tolls of last night all become very apparent and I quickly position myself with much effort and discomfort in the 2ftx3ft closet that is a bathroom (mentioned in the intro) in a sitting position. A long battle ensues mainly fought in the wet mudd trenches and at sea, in several waves. Somewhat relieved I return to the room, thinking that possibly the emminence of the battle may be what prevented my slumber. Alas, I still cannot sleep . I then discover that Win has also woken up (most likely from the mass urination exodus or the butt-trumpet recital that followed.) and has not be able to return to sandman land. After telling me about my bedroom behavour last night in which (in a luckty vacant room, aside from Win) I apparently, right after I lay down, shot up screaming "fuck fuck! My journal, I didn't make an entry, fuck, I need to make an entry." followed by a shaking of Win in distressed excitement, "I'm gonna do it now!"- immediately followed by a hasty retrival and scribbling on the bed, stowing of the journal, then an abrupt passing out.
I shared my amusement and we set out. Its about 6. We wander and wander, walking much of the north part of southern Dublin. We stumble across a place called "next" (imagine if express and luckybrand merged, and Express was the dominant parent) have a 5am sale. So I go in, because, what the hell else were we going to do. I buy a polo (thier sized are much smaller, the Large fits like a snug medium.) We exit hastily after I get wind, or more correctly, the other sale goer get wind of another oncoming battle. Refusing to return to that desolate infant sized prison cell, I immediately seek an open hotel. After many awkward positions and funny walk, Wins amusement and my pain- I locate the Westin: Dublin. At 6:30am there really isn't much staff around the main reception area and we steal away to the Mezenane level where I discover the Cadillac of poopin stools- the largest handicap stall, I have ever seen. Now I call it a stall because it is actually located within another bathroom, and thus cannot be its own. But for all intents and purposes, it was its own room. Complete with personal washsink. A battle raged for a while as Win entertained himself with his new cellphone ringtons (his replacement cell is a story in itself). Afterwards, I was much relieved- my innards evacuated, feeling exceptionally "empty".
7:05, after more wandering, as we stroll down O'Connel street, I boldly stand and declare
"Dublin has needledick."
You see, in WWII or what have you, the pillar in the main square was bombed and then recently it was rebuilt as a giant moderist stainless still needle that stretches several hundred feet into the sky. It stands in the middle of the main shopping district and screams for comment.
8am - to finish in brief-
We shower and have toast and cereal- wander, go to a few more sites, wander some more, catch a bus and are on our way to London.
Went to Manchester city, went to the Townhall, The John Rylands Library, saw some really old books, then the Arndale Shopping Centre, found and Apple Store, introduced myself got along marvelously with the staff, stayed, chatted and got invited to drinks. Had them come to the Church instead. Entertained at the Church, talked Apple stuff, hung out with Tom, Anthony, Win and Rob, went to bed. 5:50... see above.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
London Plans
London is all sorted and squared away.
We'll be staying at the Generator Hostel in central London. Amazing location. Right around the British Museum, National Gallery, Hyde Park, Green Park and Piccadilly Circus. I've booked 3 nights with the intent on basically napping on the airport, ie. Saturday the 21st we check in, stay until the night of the 23rd, then the night of the 24th, Win trains back to Manchester and around 3am I'll make my way to Gatwick to be there by 4am so I can make check in and be sorted and at the gate by 5am, sleep till boarding at 20 of and be on my way to Malaga at 6am.
Some things I have planned for London.
Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park, Green Park, London Bridge, The London Eye, A classic London Telephone Booth, The Tower of London, Big Ben, National Gallery, The Photographer's Gallery, British Museum, Late night pubs and clubs, meeting people at the Hostel...
Should be fun, but Dublin's first!!!!!
So excited for it all!
Until later!
PS- even after booking London and estimating for food and drink, I'm still on budget!!! Knock on wood of course!
Also, just a reminded my flight from London is as follows-
[British Airways
Operated by: GB Airways Limited
Flight 6942
LGW (6:00) to AGP (9:45am)
Airbus A321
]
Cheers!
We'll be staying at the Generator Hostel in central London. Amazing location. Right around the British Museum, National Gallery, Hyde Park, Green Park and Piccadilly Circus. I've booked 3 nights with the intent on basically napping on the airport, ie. Saturday the 21st we check in, stay until the night of the 23rd, then the night of the 24th, Win trains back to Manchester and around 3am I'll make my way to Gatwick to be there by 4am so I can make check in and be sorted and at the gate by 5am, sleep till boarding at 20 of and be on my way to Malaga at 6am.
Some things I have planned for London.
Piccadilly Circus, Hyde Park, Green Park, London Bridge, The London Eye, A classic London Telephone Booth, The Tower of London, Big Ben, National Gallery, The Photographer's Gallery, British Museum, Late night pubs and clubs, meeting people at the Hostel...
Should be fun, but Dublin's first!!!!!
So excited for it all!
Until later!
PS- even after booking London and estimating for food and drink, I'm still on budget!!! Knock on wood of course!
Also, just a reminded my flight from London is as follows-
[British Airways
Operated by: GB Airways Limited
Flight 6942
LGW (6:00) to AGP (9:45am)
Airbus A321
]
Cheers!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Update
So, still in Prestwich (outside of Manchester) above the pub, at the Church. It was sunny today, poured, then it got sunny again. There's a fantastic park/walking path behind the Inn, behind the the Church. Really nice, and foresty with some giant woodcarvings.
We went to a quiz night tonight at a pub in Bury. A quiz night is when you got to a pub with a team, group of friends or whatever and they ask a bunch (tonight was 30) general knowledge questions. Then who gets the most right wins a round of drinks. We went and unfortunately there were quite a few of UK related questions and the Brits with us weren't as sorted in the knowledge, although they did get a good amount of the UK questions. Anyway, after the quiz there was this completely sloshed woman who apparently was named Gail probably late 30s or something, the most stereotypical "working class", "homeless", "Austin Powers" teeth ever. The spaces inbetween here overlapping and twisted incisors were black. She was very drunk and overheard my American accent. She asked where I was from then started rambling on like a meth addict about how she hadn't been home for over a hundred years and something along the lines of coming from Ontario, Canada. She was reckless and completely falling over herself and those around her. She came up a little too close to me and tried to talk. I turned away and pretended to be engaged with the others I was with. I then decided to turn around with my Australian accent and tell the lass I 'as from Brisbane. She didn't know what exactly was going on. She was all out of sorts. So then she came back over, and tried to talk to Win. I immediately introduced him as my deaf friend. He played along brilliantly and kept making awkward half word noises. Only this somewhat backfired as she then grabbed his face, turned it toward her and started yelling- "HELLO, CAN YOU READ MY LIPS". She then proceeded to get dangerously close to his face (at which he later remarked that her breath matched her teeth) causing him to immediately turn his head resulting in a sloppy kiss on the upper lobe of his ear. He then remarked that his hearing was cured but he had become blind from her sight.
After which we attempted a hasty exit- only for Win to run into a real handicap person at the doorway, however not deaf. Gail longingly shot a gaze at us as we keenly exited the pub and made our way to Pizza Pioneer a few stores down to have some more spot on Hawaiian pizza.
The night ended shortly after as we took a cab back to the Church where we had a round and went back and forth trading racist and obscene jokes with Tom (the owner of the Pub) as he hassled me about my about various Jewish stereotypes (all in good fun really). Tom then gave me a giant Guinness hat, shortly after which we retired to our rooms.
-----
In the meantime though, I've fully planned out and booked my excursion to Dublin. 3 Days, 2 Nights. I fly in from Manchester via RyanAir on the morning of the 19th. Have that day to do sight seeing and all the James Joyce intel I ever wanted. That night for Pub Crawl Episode I then the 20th for more sight seeing, bus tour that has the Guinness Storehouse en route, that night for Pub Crawl Part II then most of the 21st to recoop and revisit anything or tie up loose ends. Both nights I will be staying at the Litton Lane Hostel in the MOST central Dublin. It used to be a recording studio and is where both Van Morrison and U2 recorded at one time, which is pretty cool. It's also 24 hour check in!
From there I fly from Dublin to London.
[Editing note- although it may sound from all the "I"s that I am traveling alone, Win will be with me up until the night of the 24th- So Mum, you can relax... somewhat.]
London isn't as sorted yet but I am going to finish that up tomorrow. I basically just need to book the hostels, everything else is ok.
Also, although I haven't been to London yet and thus don't really want to mention it- but currently I'm on budget (Dublin included) (knock on wood) so that's a plus. I just hope it stays like that until I get to Spain at least.
It's kind of amazing- on a few levels. First just that I'm actually on this trip. That I'm actually in England, live above a pub, have been doing what I'm doing. Everything!, its absolutely awesome. Second the ridiculous differences of weather (I'm assuming culture, definitely at least language) that I will experience when I go to Spain. It really is two trips in one. I feel like I'm going to leave for a whole different trip instead of just carrying on.
I really am grateful that Paulie and Ed have taken me in and that Tom is such a cool guy. Aswell as all of Ed's family and Win. The stay has been fantastic so far! I don't know how I'll ever thank them.
Anyway it's 2, I've been up writing and planning and breakfast is at 9- so I need to get to bed! I'll probably write next in Dublin, but maybe sooner- ttyl!
Cheers!
Itinerary details for those who care (aka "Daddio")
[Thursday, July 19th
RyanAir Flight 535
MAN (7:55) to DUB (8:55)
]
[Saturday, July 21st
RyanAir Flight 118
DUB (19:15) to LGW (20:35)
}
We went to a quiz night tonight at a pub in Bury. A quiz night is when you got to a pub with a team, group of friends or whatever and they ask a bunch (tonight was 30) general knowledge questions. Then who gets the most right wins a round of drinks. We went and unfortunately there were quite a few of UK related questions and the Brits with us weren't as sorted in the knowledge, although they did get a good amount of the UK questions. Anyway, after the quiz there was this completely sloshed woman who apparently was named Gail probably late 30s or something, the most stereotypical "working class", "homeless", "Austin Powers" teeth ever. The spaces inbetween here overlapping and twisted incisors were black. She was very drunk and overheard my American accent. She asked where I was from then started rambling on like a meth addict about how she hadn't been home for over a hundred years and something along the lines of coming from Ontario, Canada. She was reckless and completely falling over herself and those around her. She came up a little too close to me and tried to talk. I turned away and pretended to be engaged with the others I was with. I then decided to turn around with my Australian accent and tell the lass I 'as from Brisbane. She didn't know what exactly was going on. She was all out of sorts. So then she came back over, and tried to talk to Win. I immediately introduced him as my deaf friend. He played along brilliantly and kept making awkward half word noises. Only this somewhat backfired as she then grabbed his face, turned it toward her and started yelling- "HELLO, CAN YOU READ MY LIPS". She then proceeded to get dangerously close to his face (at which he later remarked that her breath matched her teeth) causing him to immediately turn his head resulting in a sloppy kiss on the upper lobe of his ear. He then remarked that his hearing was cured but he had become blind from her sight.
After which we attempted a hasty exit- only for Win to run into a real handicap person at the doorway, however not deaf. Gail longingly shot a gaze at us as we keenly exited the pub and made our way to Pizza Pioneer a few stores down to have some more spot on Hawaiian pizza.
The night ended shortly after as we took a cab back to the Church where we had a round and went back and forth trading racist and obscene jokes with Tom (the owner of the Pub) as he hassled me about my about various Jewish stereotypes (all in good fun really). Tom then gave me a giant Guinness hat, shortly after which we retired to our rooms.
-----
In the meantime though, I've fully planned out and booked my excursion to Dublin. 3 Days, 2 Nights. I fly in from Manchester via RyanAir on the morning of the 19th. Have that day to do sight seeing and all the James Joyce intel I ever wanted. That night for Pub Crawl Episode I then the 20th for more sight seeing, bus tour that has the Guinness Storehouse en route, that night for Pub Crawl Part II then most of the 21st to recoop and revisit anything or tie up loose ends. Both nights I will be staying at the Litton Lane Hostel in the MOST central Dublin. It used to be a recording studio and is where both Van Morrison and U2 recorded at one time, which is pretty cool. It's also 24 hour check in!
From there I fly from Dublin to London.
[Editing note- although it may sound from all the "I"s that I am traveling alone, Win will be with me up until the night of the 24th- So Mum, you can relax... somewhat.]
London isn't as sorted yet but I am going to finish that up tomorrow. I basically just need to book the hostels, everything else is ok.
Also, although I haven't been to London yet and thus don't really want to mention it- but currently I'm on budget (Dublin included) (knock on wood) so that's a plus. I just hope it stays like that until I get to Spain at least.
It's kind of amazing- on a few levels. First just that I'm actually on this trip. That I'm actually in England, live above a pub, have been doing what I'm doing. Everything!, its absolutely awesome. Second the ridiculous differences of weather (I'm assuming culture, definitely at least language) that I will experience when I go to Spain. It really is two trips in one. I feel like I'm going to leave for a whole different trip instead of just carrying on.
I really am grateful that Paulie and Ed have taken me in and that Tom is such a cool guy. Aswell as all of Ed's family and Win. The stay has been fantastic so far! I don't know how I'll ever thank them.
Anyway it's 2, I've been up writing and planning and breakfast is at 9- so I need to get to bed! I'll probably write next in Dublin, but maybe sooner- ttyl!
Cheers!
Itinerary details for those who care (aka "Daddio")
[Thursday, July 19th
RyanAir Flight 535
MAN (7:55) to DUB (8:55)
]
[Saturday, July 21st
RyanAir Flight 118
DUB (19:15) to LGW (20:35)
}
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Mobile Number
So I got a new Sim card- incase anyone wants to call, only Idk how much it would be for you, yet for me its only about 20p (approx 30 to 40 cents, even to call the US) a minute- So, you should text or facebook message me so the cost goes to me (only 10p a text)- then I could call you back or whatever- My number is
For US Callers
+44 793 441 8913
(The plus sign can be achieved on most cell phones by holding 0, I dont know about land lines, I think its the same though)
For UK Callers
0793 442 8913
For US Callers
+44 793 441 8913
(The plus sign can be achieved on most cell phones by holding 0, I dont know about land lines, I think its the same though)
For UK Callers
0793 442 8913
27 Hours later...
So in less than 27 hours (the last 7 I've been sleeping) and lets see what has already happened...
- Hassled at customs
- Drove on left side of road
- Had Baked beans and chips with eggs
- Started Drinking at 3pm
- Drank, in one night starting at 3pm-
- Half pint of John Smith
- 3 Pints of Guin
- Pint of Humdinger
- Jack and Coke
- 4 275ml bottles of Beck's (which was more or less forced down my throat)
- 2 bottle of Corona (again, see above)
- Saw the new Harry Potter Movie (In England)
- Shared (and treated to) most of the above drinks with(by) Tom the owner of the Church inn/pub (but at various locations, including the Church)
- Realized I can now tell everyone at home I went to Church every night in England.
- Sat at 5 different bars/pubs, drinking at all of them.
- Went to a "A quiet little place" and got hit on by two in-house hookers named Jade and Donna because I'm a hottie American- (more later)
- Sang Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World at a Chinese Karaoke Bar called Charlies in Black Bill right outside Manchester
- Had another "All English" Breakfast (fried tomato, mushrooms, egg, sausage, etc)
-------
SO now let me attempt to somewhat clarify, briefly, as writing this all down will be a task in itself and I need to save that effort for the book that I am going to write about all this ridiculousness.
So when I last left you, I was at the library, after which we went to TGI Friday's which here is like the "place to go" for the Working Professional on a Friday.
I got a sim card. Then we decided to go see Harry Potter. But while we waited for the movie, after we bought the tickets, we went to a bar next door. (That is what people do here... when they aren't doing anything, they go to a bar/pub... at least the people I'm with do this). Saw Harry Potter- Then went to meet Fraser for a drink at pub called the Blue Bell- after which we went back to the Church. At the Church, we immediately got to drinking. Then Tom started to buy us drinks- then He told Ed that he really wanted to take us out for drinks after he closed the pub- "Just, Just for an Hour, promise, Just an Hour." He said we'd go to a "quiet little place, just to relax." So after another drink at around 12/1230 we obliged- We hopped in a cab and made our way to Manchester. We got off in an area that resembled downtown DC or at least the club/bar heart of a city- apartment looking buildings with people on the street and pub/bar signs around the ground floors with wide open doors and neon or illuminated signs beckoning you to enter. Yet, we didn't go to any of these friendly and welcoming entraces. No. We walked up to, Just a door. A large wooden door with a peephole and a buzzer. The only thing telling you it wasn't a persons house, and that still didnt necessrily mean it wasn't, was a modestly sized brass plauque next to the door with the name "Jacqui's" and a the clubs symbol next to it. Tom went up and rang the buzzer. A moment later the door opened slightly, a woman (probably mid 30s) with a tattoo showing on her chest opened the door, peeked out to see who it was and then, upon seeing Tom, opened it up, kissed him (as a greating) and let us in.
The place was... quaint. Voluptuous red suede love seat near the door, fantastic "A Christmas Story" Leg lap styled accent lamps on various small tables around the place. A small bar. In the other room, a dacefloor with a poll, a painted picture of a naked woman. You know, you're normal "quiet little place". Inside, mainly mid 20s, woman in "club" clothing. maybe 6 of them? But they looked like they sitting enjoying the bar, not working. I wasn't convinced yet. There just happens to be a poll. I didn't see anyone dancing, no girls "working". Tom bought us some Beck's. Then another, then the lady just kept bringing them too us, everytime our bottles went dry. The first one was alright. The second one, a wee hard to get down, I was not really interested. By the third one, the girls drinking and talking at the far table got up to dance (They have all American music here, we have all British music in the states- go figure)- so the third ones effort was slightly outweighed, as I wasn't fully applying myself to the thought of trying to get it down. Instead, it merely was an accompanying taste the visual. I mean, they weren't naked or anything. They were completely dressed (if you can call it 'completely'). They did the whole "we're two drunk girl friends, lets go dance to this silly music that we really actually like". They stopped. I hit the loo. Now when I got back, they were sitting at our table. Jade was in, what was once my seat, Donna next to Tom. I pulled up a chair next Win. The fourth Beck's came over at this point.
So we got into a conversation with them. Then Donna said, you should take your American money and have party time with us! Then, as somewhat of the devil's advocate I said, "Come here often?" The response was somewhat blunt. "We work here every night." Well then, there was that. So we continued to play with fire.
"Yes, you should come to a Partay without the Passe with us!"
"A Naked partay"
"Yes, you're some American Hotties" Said Donna and Jade to Win and I.
"I would love to, but I can't" I said thinking about my lack of room, money and attempt to preserve any remaining dignity.
"OH shit, are you Gay!?" Said Jade.
Laughing histerically, I got out a "no"
"No, no, I'm just poor!"
"Oh come on! We could got have a party! Sex Time"
Now, keep in mind, these aren't non-english speaking women, or completey busted looking hookers. They give the appearance of a regular, attractive bar goer. But I somewhat digress.
A few more phrases that I don't quite remember were exchanged then Tom gives the signal and Ed gets up. It's time to go.
So we're going home right. FAULK NO! No my dear reader. Another place-
Charlie's, the Chinese Kareoke Bar. Now, I find this amusing in itself, but silently hope that there is some part Vietnamese ownership of the place to really drive the irony home.
Anyway, after Tom talks to the bouncer who wasn't letting some other people in, we walk right in. He buys us more drinks (this is where the Corona comes in). We sit down at the table and listen to some terrible signing. Almost drunk, we sing along a little bit. There's a girl Rachael there, not a working girl. Just a girl. She sings Bon Jovi. Then they keep telling me to do a song. Win picks What a Wonderful World for me. So I get up and with my best Louis impression, get to it. Win, feeling his drink at this point, comes up and joins me. It was a great time. Ed take a video on his phone (which I have not seen yet).
The whole night was very picturesque. We get out of the club and I look up and around. The buildings are fantastic, the area is perfect. This is Europe, England. Tall buildings, dark cloudy sky, people, alleys, neon, taxi cabs, cars putting down side roads. Fantasic. So, we get back to the cab and make our way to the Church. Get to our room- its 3:09am. I scribble in my journal. "Just an Hour" right.... I brush my teeth, undress, and pass out. We woke up this morning at 9 for breakfast. And that's where I am now. In bed, about to nap- not because of jetlag, but because tonight Fraser and Jimmy are taking us out... and if what I hear is even half true- it will prove to be ten fold of last night. AND I'VE ONLY BEEN HERE A DAY!
Later (at 3) we might see a football match- but we'll see.
Cheers!
- Hassled at customs
- Drove on left side of road
- Had Baked beans and chips with eggs
- Started Drinking at 3pm
- Drank, in one night starting at 3pm-
- Half pint of John Smith
- 3 Pints of Guin
- Pint of Humdinger
- Jack and Coke
- 4 275ml bottles of Beck's (which was more or less forced down my throat)
- 2 bottle of Corona (again, see above)
- Saw the new Harry Potter Movie (In England)
- Shared (and treated to) most of the above drinks with(by) Tom the owner of the Church inn/pub (but at various locations, including the Church)
- Realized I can now tell everyone at home I went to Church every night in England.
- Sat at 5 different bars/pubs, drinking at all of them.
- Went to a "A quiet little place" and got hit on by two in-house hookers named Jade and Donna because I'm a hottie American- (more later)
- Sang Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World at a Chinese Karaoke Bar called Charlies in Black Bill right outside Manchester
- Had another "All English" Breakfast (fried tomato, mushrooms, egg, sausage, etc)
-------
SO now let me attempt to somewhat clarify, briefly, as writing this all down will be a task in itself and I need to save that effort for the book that I am going to write about all this ridiculousness.
So when I last left you, I was at the library, after which we went to TGI Friday's which here is like the "place to go" for the Working Professional on a Friday.
I got a sim card. Then we decided to go see Harry Potter. But while we waited for the movie, after we bought the tickets, we went to a bar next door. (That is what people do here... when they aren't doing anything, they go to a bar/pub... at least the people I'm with do this). Saw Harry Potter- Then went to meet Fraser for a drink at pub called the Blue Bell- after which we went back to the Church. At the Church, we immediately got to drinking. Then Tom started to buy us drinks- then He told Ed that he really wanted to take us out for drinks after he closed the pub- "Just, Just for an Hour, promise, Just an Hour." He said we'd go to a "quiet little place, just to relax." So after another drink at around 12/1230 we obliged- We hopped in a cab and made our way to Manchester. We got off in an area that resembled downtown DC or at least the club/bar heart of a city- apartment looking buildings with people on the street and pub/bar signs around the ground floors with wide open doors and neon or illuminated signs beckoning you to enter. Yet, we didn't go to any of these friendly and welcoming entraces. No. We walked up to, Just a door. A large wooden door with a peephole and a buzzer. The only thing telling you it wasn't a persons house, and that still didnt necessrily mean it wasn't, was a modestly sized brass plauque next to the door with the name "Jacqui's" and a the clubs symbol next to it. Tom went up and rang the buzzer. A moment later the door opened slightly, a woman (probably mid 30s) with a tattoo showing on her chest opened the door, peeked out to see who it was and then, upon seeing Tom, opened it up, kissed him (as a greating) and let us in.
The place was... quaint. Voluptuous red suede love seat near the door, fantastic "A Christmas Story" Leg lap styled accent lamps on various small tables around the place. A small bar. In the other room, a dacefloor with a poll, a painted picture of a naked woman. You know, you're normal "quiet little place". Inside, mainly mid 20s, woman in "club" clothing. maybe 6 of them? But they looked like they sitting enjoying the bar, not working. I wasn't convinced yet. There just happens to be a poll. I didn't see anyone dancing, no girls "working". Tom bought us some Beck's. Then another, then the lady just kept bringing them too us, everytime our bottles went dry. The first one was alright. The second one, a wee hard to get down, I was not really interested. By the third one, the girls drinking and talking at the far table got up to dance (They have all American music here, we have all British music in the states- go figure)- so the third ones effort was slightly outweighed, as I wasn't fully applying myself to the thought of trying to get it down. Instead, it merely was an accompanying taste the visual. I mean, they weren't naked or anything. They were completely dressed (if you can call it 'completely'). They did the whole "we're two drunk girl friends, lets go dance to this silly music that we really actually like". They stopped. I hit the loo. Now when I got back, they were sitting at our table. Jade was in, what was once my seat, Donna next to Tom. I pulled up a chair next Win. The fourth Beck's came over at this point.
So we got into a conversation with them. Then Donna said, you should take your American money and have party time with us! Then, as somewhat of the devil's advocate I said, "Come here often?" The response was somewhat blunt. "We work here every night." Well then, there was that. So we continued to play with fire.
"Yes, you should come to a Partay without the Passe with us!"
"A Naked partay"
"Yes, you're some American Hotties" Said Donna and Jade to Win and I.
"I would love to, but I can't" I said thinking about my lack of room, money and attempt to preserve any remaining dignity.
"OH shit, are you Gay!?" Said Jade.
Laughing histerically, I got out a "no"
"No, no, I'm just poor!"
"Oh come on! We could got have a party! Sex Time"
Now, keep in mind, these aren't non-english speaking women, or completey busted looking hookers. They give the appearance of a regular, attractive bar goer. But I somewhat digress.
A few more phrases that I don't quite remember were exchanged then Tom gives the signal and Ed gets up. It's time to go.
So we're going home right. FAULK NO! No my dear reader. Another place-
Charlie's, the Chinese Kareoke Bar. Now, I find this amusing in itself, but silently hope that there is some part Vietnamese ownership of the place to really drive the irony home.
Anyway, after Tom talks to the bouncer who wasn't letting some other people in, we walk right in. He buys us more drinks (this is where the Corona comes in). We sit down at the table and listen to some terrible signing. Almost drunk, we sing along a little bit. There's a girl Rachael there, not a working girl. Just a girl. She sings Bon Jovi. Then they keep telling me to do a song. Win picks What a Wonderful World for me. So I get up and with my best Louis impression, get to it. Win, feeling his drink at this point, comes up and joins me. It was a great time. Ed take a video on his phone (which I have not seen yet).
The whole night was very picturesque. We get out of the club and I look up and around. The buildings are fantastic, the area is perfect. This is Europe, England. Tall buildings, dark cloudy sky, people, alleys, neon, taxi cabs, cars putting down side roads. Fantasic. So, we get back to the cab and make our way to the Church. Get to our room- its 3:09am. I scribble in my journal. "Just an Hour" right.... I brush my teeth, undress, and pass out. We woke up this morning at 9 for breakfast. And that's where I am now. In bed, about to nap- not because of jetlag, but because tonight Fraser and Jimmy are taking us out... and if what I hear is even half true- it will prove to be ten fold of last night. AND I'VE ONLY BEEN HERE A DAY!
Later (at 3) we might see a football match- but we'll see.
Cheers!
Friday, July 13, 2007
We're staying where?!
So, 17B turns out to be a middle chair in the narrowest seat ever. However, it was an exit row so the legroom was nice. I was inbetween a not-so-thin man to my left and a man who slept to his left on my right. It wasn't ideal, but they were alright blokes and we had a good chat. Then I slept for half the ride and I was fine.
So 2 chicken dinners, 3 hours of sleep, 1 crosant, and a few glasses of orange juice later I landed in Manchester Airport.
After waiting for a little while (apparently Win had a long night before and was running a little late) I got picked up and we rode in a taxi, on the left side of the road back to our humble abode. Ed, Win's (for all intents and purposes) step Dad was there too, however he had accompanied Win the night before and was somewhat uncommunicative aka, passed the hell out for most of the ride. So when we on the highway, thinking of all the excitement that may await. I asked simply-
"So, uh, are there any pubs in walking distance of where we're staying?"
"Well, actually, we're currently living above a Pub"
~"Wait, what?"
"Yea, we'll be staying above a pub" Ed said
"And currently Little Osama is in your bed right now." Added Win.
-----
Now let me explain.....
So, Ed's much younger brother, Fraser (pronounced Frazer) has a best friend named Jimmy. Jimmy's Auntie just married Osama Bin Laden's son, Omar... Making Jimmy, Osama's Nephew... SO basically, I'm living above a pub, will be drinking every night with Osama's nephew and can start drinking as early as eleven. (Oh and it gets better, Jimmy's real name is Ben, so it would be Ben Bin Laden!!)
-----
So we got back to the Inn (see pictures below) went upstairs, met Jimmy, Imagine the scrawniest 19 year old Brit with Tattoos, who now happens to be related to Osama Bin Laden, and Fraser, who is considerably bigger but not fat and has size 17 US feet. They are still passed out. So we go for a walk. After walking about a mile we stumble accross a little dinner esq place. The menu reads things like Bacon, Sausage, Onions all melted in Cheese, to Spam and Egg- I opt for the Sausage, Egg Chips (Fries) and Beans.... Needless to say, it was Beans, a over easy egg, fries and griled sausage... Delicious... NOT! We'll it was ok, at least it was filling...
So we go and get back to the Inn
Jimmy and Frazer finally wake up and get going and Win and I start to chill.
Then around 11pm local, we decide a nap is in order. We nap, I wake up at 1, no one is there, Win left, I figure he'll be back, so I go back to sleep. I wake up at 2:30 with a nice case of cotton mouth, Win is still nowhere in sight. So what do I do? I go down and have a drink of course!
I start with a half pint of John Smith's with the two quid that Win gave me- then find out that they take Debit- aw Cheers! And have me a little liquid lunch known as a pint of Guinness. Now the beer here is better to begin with already- but the guinness- we'll, bars have to get Certified to serve it correctly- and this bar was. So I had my lunch and that about brings me to now.... So now I'm off to continue the adventure- and its only the first couple hours... I'll keep you in the loop though.
[The view from the stairs where my room is]
Outside the Pub
PS- Oh yea, the place is called the Church in because its right outside this massive old church built in 1195. So, you exit the church, and there's the bar!!!!
The Church [It literally right there]
So 2 chicken dinners, 3 hours of sleep, 1 crosant, and a few glasses of orange juice later I landed in Manchester Airport.
After waiting for a little while (apparently Win had a long night before and was running a little late) I got picked up and we rode in a taxi, on the left side of the road back to our humble abode. Ed, Win's (for all intents and purposes) step Dad was there too, however he had accompanied Win the night before and was somewhat uncommunicative aka, passed the hell out for most of the ride. So when we on the highway, thinking of all the excitement that may await. I asked simply-
"So, uh, are there any pubs in walking distance of where we're staying?"
"Well, actually, we're currently living above a Pub"
~"Wait, what?"
"Yea, we'll be staying above a pub" Ed said
"And currently Little Osama is in your bed right now." Added Win.
-----
Now let me explain.....
So, Ed's much younger brother, Fraser (pronounced Frazer) has a best friend named Jimmy. Jimmy's Auntie just married Osama Bin Laden's son, Omar... Making Jimmy, Osama's Nephew... SO basically, I'm living above a pub, will be drinking every night with Osama's nephew and can start drinking as early as eleven. (Oh and it gets better, Jimmy's real name is Ben, so it would be Ben Bin Laden!!)
-----
So we got back to the Inn (see pictures below) went upstairs, met Jimmy, Imagine the scrawniest 19 year old Brit with Tattoos, who now happens to be related to Osama Bin Laden, and Fraser, who is considerably bigger but not fat and has size 17 US feet. They are still passed out. So we go for a walk. After walking about a mile we stumble accross a little dinner esq place. The menu reads things like Bacon, Sausage, Onions all melted in Cheese, to Spam and Egg- I opt for the Sausage, Egg Chips (Fries) and Beans.... Needless to say, it was Beans, a over easy egg, fries and griled sausage... Delicious... NOT! We'll it was ok, at least it was filling...
So we go and get back to the Inn
Jimmy and Frazer finally wake up and get going and Win and I start to chill.
Then around 11pm local, we decide a nap is in order. We nap, I wake up at 1, no one is there, Win left, I figure he'll be back, so I go back to sleep. I wake up at 2:30 with a nice case of cotton mouth, Win is still nowhere in sight. So what do I do? I go down and have a drink of course!
I start with a half pint of John Smith's with the two quid that Win gave me- then find out that they take Debit- aw Cheers! And have me a little liquid lunch known as a pint of Guinness. Now the beer here is better to begin with already- but the guinness- we'll, bars have to get Certified to serve it correctly- and this bar was. So I had my lunch and that about brings me to now.... So now I'm off to continue the adventure- and its only the first couple hours... I'll keep you in the loop though.
[The view from the stairs where my room is]
Outside the Pub
PS- Oh yea, the place is called the Church in because its right outside this massive old church built in 1195. So, you exit the church, and there's the bar!!!!
The Church [It literally right there]
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Approximately 34 Hours to Departure
Hey y'all- if you want a postcard. Leave your address in a comment and I will do my best! AHHH so excited!
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Welcome one and all!
Alright, well- this is going to be my UK/Espana blog- this is where I will attempt to document my trip as I go with the help of various cyber cafes and Chris's laptop (once I get to Spain). So check in here if you're curious what I'm up to. However there is the possibility that I may end up too busy, broke, hungover, tired, unable to reach a computer or.... broke, to update. I have no idea yet- but my intention is to update at least every other day, or once a city. Anyway- my itinerary is as follows for now:
8:10pm July 12th, fly out of Boston
7:35am arrive in Manchester
Meet up with Win
From there its still up in the air-
Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Cardiff, London????
6:00am July 25th, leave Win, fly out of London
9:45am Arrive in Malaga, Spain
Meet up with Chris and Anna
Drive to Torre del Mar
Chill on the Beach, Shop, go to bars and chill some more for two weeks.
12:35pm Aug 8th, Fly out of Malaga
1:40pm Arrive in Madrid
3:25pm Fly out of Madrid
4:45pm Arrive in London
6:05pm Fly out of London
8:20pm Arrive in Boston
I'm wicked excited, 5 days and counting! So check back here after I leave for updates!
-Adam
8:10pm July 12th, fly out of Boston
7:35am arrive in Manchester
Meet up with Win
From there its still up in the air-
Liverpool, Dublin, Bristol, Cardiff, London????
6:00am July 25th, leave Win, fly out of London
9:45am Arrive in Malaga, Spain
Meet up with Chris and Anna
Drive to Torre del Mar
Chill on the Beach, Shop, go to bars and chill some more for two weeks.
12:35pm Aug 8th, Fly out of Malaga
1:40pm Arrive in Madrid
3:25pm Fly out of Madrid
4:45pm Arrive in London
6:05pm Fly out of London
8:20pm Arrive in Boston
I'm wicked excited, 5 days and counting! So check back here after I leave for updates!
-Adam
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