Good morning, dear reader! I am writing to you today from the floor of the Warsaw airport, while awaiting the arrival of the plane that will take me one step closer to NYC. We spent last night in Katowice, Poland, which you've never heard of because there's nothing to hear about. It's a miracle that the town had a hotel, and why they had an airport is a complete mystery. Apparently they're close to Krakow, but Krakow has its own airport so I still don't understand the point of having one in Katowice.
Anyway...
We flew to Poland via Wizz Air, one of the worst 3 airlines you will ever have the displeasure of doing business with (along with Spirit and RyanAir). Fortunately the flight was only a couple of hours long and I managed to sleep through it. We landed, took a very short cab ride to our middle-of-nowhere hotel, and promptly passed out until dinner. The hotel turned out to be on a lake, so we sat outside enjoying the view while eating. Our food was ridiculously cheap (about $15 total, as I recall, for dinner, drinks, and dessert for 2), and so good. Naturally pierogis were involved. :)
There is nothing in Katowice (seriously - the town is so small it doesn't even have cows), so we went back to our room and whiled away the hours with work and writing. We were going to stay up all night because our flight to Warsaw was early in the morning and we figured it would make us sleep through all of our flights today, but sleep finally got the better of us and we rested for a few hours before we had to get up, pack, and call a cab. The flight to Warsaw was very short and uneventful, and now we have 2 flights left before we will be back in the States: one from Warsaw to Reykjavik, Iceland, and one from Iceland to Newark. I've never flown into Newark before, so that should be a bit of an adventure. Mostly, though, all I can think about is that it's keeping me away from my "Welcome back to Manhattan!" plans for even longer: real NYC pizza, a trip to Keybar, and sleep in my very own, exceedingly comfortable, bed! :)
Monday, August 9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Barcelona: 8.8.10
Barcelona: An improvement both food-wise and noise-wise.
Our first experience in Barcelona was getting lost in it, which is as good of a way as any to see a city, I suppose. We picked a random bus to take us into the city from the airport and got off at a random stop. The random stop turned out to be quite close to our hotel - or so we thought. It took about 20 minutes of circling the area before Jon realized that the park we were near was not actually the park our hotel was close to. Fortunately, the correct park was only a 15 minute walk away, so we set off in the proper direction and arrived shortly afterwards. The park featured a large citadel, which was cool, but it turned out that, once again, Google Maps was wrong and our hotel was not where we thought it would be, which was less cool. I sat on the lawn and guarded the bags while Jon went on a hotel-finding expedition. It was a long time before he came back, but when he finally returned he had found both the hotel and a place where we could get paella for dinner. I waited outside the hotel while Jon checked in with both of our bags, because we'd only booked a room for 1 person. We'd had a hard time finding accommodations in the location we needed to be in (chosen because it was close to the venue for the Barcelona Music Conference, the reason we came to Spain in the first place), and the cost for a double room was significantly higher than the cost of a single, so we figured we'd just book a single and sneak me in.
The plan went off without a hitch. Jon met me back outside after dropping our bags in the room and we went out for dinner to give the hotel employees time to forget who Jon was and what room he was in. We went a short way up the street before settling on a surprisingly well-priced restaurant with seafood paella. The food took forever to be ready and service was slow - which is a very serious crime when your customers are impatient "New Yorkers" (term used loosely in my case, of course) with gurgling stomachs - but it turned out to be delicious once it arrived. It was the perfect introduction to Spain.
We returned home directly after dinner and had a quiet night in because Jon had work to do and it was unlikely that it was going to get done during the two days of the music conference! It took us ages to find breakfast the next day, because restaurants were few and far between in our part of town. When we finally found one, we made the important discoveries that:
After breakfast we - you guessed it! - worked all afternoon, breaking only for a brief time to find somewhere to print our tickets for the concert. It ended up being a bit of a hike, but it gave us an opportunity to see the city that we probably would not have had otherwise. The highlight was a park with the "Arc de Triomf." Who knew that Spain has one as well?! Other than that, I found the city to be disappointingly bland, though I rather suspect that that's because we were in a boring part of town, and not because Barcelona is a generally unattractive city.
I did my best to look festive for the concert, but most of my fun and costume-y clothing is back in New York. I did manage to dig up a few colorful sartorial accents, however, and doused myself in glitter, which I never travel without. I also put together a really cool eye makeup look (8 colors total, I believe!), but the lighting was bad so I wasn't able to get a good picture of it. The concert was within walking distance, so we grabbed a drink for the journey (to avoid paying for absurdly priced concert beverages) and set off.
Just before we arrived, we realized that neither one of us had remembered the tickets. *facepalm* What a rookie mistake. We tried to see if there was a will call service we could pick them up from, but there was not. The people helping us tried their best to get us in, but said that the only option was giving them our email addresses and the passwords to the accounts so they could look our tickets up. Yeah right. So we trekked back home, grabbed the tickets, and hurried back (thank God we lived close!).
As we were walking to the back of the long line, one of the men who had helped us earlier spotted us and waved us over. He then proceeded to lift the velvet rope and usher us into the VIP line, before tapping the bouncer on the shoulder and telling him to let us in right away. Apparently being late and somewhat incompetent sometimes has its perks. :)
The venue turned out to be quite small (about 2,000 people according to the man who let us jump the line), so we got to see the DJs in a much more intimate setting than we usually do. We caught part of Eric Prydz's set, which was actually pretty awesome, and then it was time for our personal favorite: Armin van Buuren. His set was also awesome...but then again his sets are always awesome, and that's why that was the 4th or 5th time I'd seen him! Marcus Schultz followed, but we were so exhausted from hours of bouncing around and fighting for space in the pit that we left as he was getting started. The exit put you right on the beach, so we took a quick stroll through the sand before passing what I think was the first real fist fight I have witnessed and heading home.
The next day we grabbed a quick breakfast (at a restaurant run by Asian people - surprise, surprise!) and then went back to the beach to enjoy it by daylight. It was BEAUTIFUL. I think the Mediterranean and I are well-suited for each other. We spent some time enjoying the sun and sand and playing around in the water, and then went in search of a quick beachside refreshment because it was HOT out there! En route, we made another important discovery about Spain: people roam around the beach giving massages. That is most definitely my kind of beach! I didn't have a swimsuit on, sadly, and though you can legally be nude anywhere in Barcelona, modesty got the better of me. My waterfront massage will just have to be on my next trip to Spain, I guess! :) My waterfront drink, however, came just after the massage discovery and was delicious - a capifresa, which was basically a caipirinha with muddled strawberries. It was the perfect summer refreshment.
After more work, a little Spanish wine, and a short nap on Jon's part, we decided it was time for more paella. We returned to the place where we had eaten the first night, but ended up deciding on fideua - a traditional dish that's basically seafood paella but with noodles instead of rice - instead. We only had an hour or so between dinner and needing to leave for the concert, but I was desperately in need of sleep since insomnia was still keeping me up at night and had prevented me from participating in the nap mentioned above. I fell asleep thinking it was just going to be a nap, but when I woke up I was covered in mosquito bites and - blerg - my stomach felt awful. I laid awake for a while - deep breaths, deeeeeeeep breaths - but there was no avoiding it. I dragged my broken self to the bathroom and...well...you can probably guess what happened to my dinner. I dozed in the bathroom briefly, because the sound of water running in the sink was oddly soothing (sorry conservationists!), before deciding that the contents of my stomach were stable enough to return to bed. No concert for me, as you can probably guess. Jon, who mysteriously felt fine, despite the fact that we had eaten exactly the same things all day long, decided that staying in with his sick gf was preferable to going to the concert (in spite of her insistence otherwise!). He is clearly delusional.
Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last day in Spain, but *shrug*. I guess things can't go my way all the time. I survived, and in the morning I felt fine and it was time to go to Poland.
Our first experience in Barcelona was getting lost in it, which is as good of a way as any to see a city, I suppose. We picked a random bus to take us into the city from the airport and got off at a random stop. The random stop turned out to be quite close to our hotel - or so we thought. It took about 20 minutes of circling the area before Jon realized that the park we were near was not actually the park our hotel was close to. Fortunately, the correct park was only a 15 minute walk away, so we set off in the proper direction and arrived shortly afterwards. The park featured a large citadel, which was cool, but it turned out that, once again, Google Maps was wrong and our hotel was not where we thought it would be, which was less cool. I sat on the lawn and guarded the bags while Jon went on a hotel-finding expedition. It was a long time before he came back, but when he finally returned he had found both the hotel and a place where we could get paella for dinner. I waited outside the hotel while Jon checked in with both of our bags, because we'd only booked a room for 1 person. We'd had a hard time finding accommodations in the location we needed to be in (chosen because it was close to the venue for the Barcelona Music Conference, the reason we came to Spain in the first place), and the cost for a double room was significantly higher than the cost of a single, so we figured we'd just book a single and sneak me in.
The plan went off without a hitch. Jon met me back outside after dropping our bags in the room and we went out for dinner to give the hotel employees time to forget who Jon was and what room he was in. We went a short way up the street before settling on a surprisingly well-priced restaurant with seafood paella. The food took forever to be ready and service was slow - which is a very serious crime when your customers are impatient "New Yorkers" (term used loosely in my case, of course) with gurgling stomachs - but it turned out to be delicious once it arrived. It was the perfect introduction to Spain.
We returned home directly after dinner and had a quiet night in because Jon had work to do and it was unlikely that it was going to get done during the two days of the music conference! It took us ages to find breakfast the next day, because restaurants were few and far between in our part of town. When we finally found one, we made the important discoveries that:
- Service is slow everywhere in Spain, which I suppose should not come as much of a surprise when you consider that the country has an official naptime. It is not the most energetic of nations.
- Spanish restaurants are all run by Asians. Go figure.
- Everything in Spain comes with a fried egg and enough salt to kill a field full of snails.
After breakfast we - you guessed it! - worked all afternoon, breaking only for a brief time to find somewhere to print our tickets for the concert. It ended up being a bit of a hike, but it gave us an opportunity to see the city that we probably would not have had otherwise. The highlight was a park with the "Arc de Triomf." Who knew that Spain has one as well?! Other than that, I found the city to be disappointingly bland, though I rather suspect that that's because we were in a boring part of town, and not because Barcelona is a generally unattractive city.
I did my best to look festive for the concert, but most of my fun and costume-y clothing is back in New York. I did manage to dig up a few colorful sartorial accents, however, and doused myself in glitter, which I never travel without. I also put together a really cool eye makeup look (8 colors total, I believe!), but the lighting was bad so I wasn't able to get a good picture of it. The concert was within walking distance, so we grabbed a drink for the journey (to avoid paying for absurdly priced concert beverages) and set off.
Just before we arrived, we realized that neither one of us had remembered the tickets. *facepalm* What a rookie mistake. We tried to see if there was a will call service we could pick them up from, but there was not. The people helping us tried their best to get us in, but said that the only option was giving them our email addresses and the passwords to the accounts so they could look our tickets up. Yeah right. So we trekked back home, grabbed the tickets, and hurried back (thank God we lived close!).
As we were walking to the back of the long line, one of the men who had helped us earlier spotted us and waved us over. He then proceeded to lift the velvet rope and usher us into the VIP line, before tapping the bouncer on the shoulder and telling him to let us in right away. Apparently being late and somewhat incompetent sometimes has its perks. :)
The venue turned out to be quite small (about 2,000 people according to the man who let us jump the line), so we got to see the DJs in a much more intimate setting than we usually do. We caught part of Eric Prydz's set, which was actually pretty awesome, and then it was time for our personal favorite: Armin van Buuren. His set was also awesome...but then again his sets are always awesome, and that's why that was the 4th or 5th time I'd seen him! Marcus Schultz followed, but we were so exhausted from hours of bouncing around and fighting for space in the pit that we left as he was getting started. The exit put you right on the beach, so we took a quick stroll through the sand before passing what I think was the first real fist fight I have witnessed and heading home.
The next day we grabbed a quick breakfast (at a restaurant run by Asian people - surprise, surprise!) and then went back to the beach to enjoy it by daylight. It was BEAUTIFUL. I think the Mediterranean and I are well-suited for each other. We spent some time enjoying the sun and sand and playing around in the water, and then went in search of a quick beachside refreshment because it was HOT out there! En route, we made another important discovery about Spain: people roam around the beach giving massages. That is most definitely my kind of beach! I didn't have a swimsuit on, sadly, and though you can legally be nude anywhere in Barcelona, modesty got the better of me. My waterfront massage will just have to be on my next trip to Spain, I guess! :) My waterfront drink, however, came just after the massage discovery and was delicious - a capifresa, which was basically a caipirinha with muddled strawberries. It was the perfect summer refreshment.
After more work, a little Spanish wine, and a short nap on Jon's part, we decided it was time for more paella. We returned to the place where we had eaten the first night, but ended up deciding on fideua - a traditional dish that's basically seafood paella but with noodles instead of rice - instead. We only had an hour or so between dinner and needing to leave for the concert, but I was desperately in need of sleep since insomnia was still keeping me up at night and had prevented me from participating in the nap mentioned above. I fell asleep thinking it was just going to be a nap, but when I woke up I was covered in mosquito bites and - blerg - my stomach felt awful. I laid awake for a while - deep breaths, deeeeeeeep breaths - but there was no avoiding it. I dragged my broken self to the bathroom and...well...you can probably guess what happened to my dinner. I dozed in the bathroom briefly, because the sound of water running in the sink was oddly soothing (sorry conservationists!), before deciding that the contents of my stomach were stable enough to return to bed. No concert for me, as you can probably guess. Jon, who mysteriously felt fine, despite the fact that we had eaten exactly the same things all day long, decided that staying in with his sick gf was preferable to going to the concert (in spite of her insistence otherwise!). He is clearly delusional.
Not exactly how I wanted to spend my last day in Spain, but *shrug*. I guess things can't go my way all the time. I survived, and in the morning I felt fine and it was time to go to Poland.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Amsterdam: 8.6.10
When last we spoke (apart from that brief aside about Dutch food, that is), I was off to bed after a quiet night spent sipping cider in a tiny beer bar. I was hoping for a restful night after several insomnia-riddled evenings, but - alas! - it was not meant to be. Almost as soon as I crawled under the covers, shouting started in the street.
"DOOOOOOOOOONNY!! LET ME IN! I FORGOT MY KEYS! RORY!! CONNER!!!"
It was Irish shouting, which made it slightly more tolerable, but it was shouting nonetheless. After the shouting came the rocks, pelted at the windows (mostly ours). Finally, someone let the Irish kid and his two Dutch lady friends in - and they proceeded to wake all of the other Irish travelers up and talk all night long. I think it goes without saying that that was another sleepless night.
Our final day in Amsterdam was much like the others - admire the beauty of the city, wonder at the lack of ATMs, nightlife, and native food, do work. I did finally get Jon to watch The Hangover, though, which was long overdue. We bid farewell to our cafe/workspace the next afternoon, and left Amsterdam after making the discovery that McDonalds in the Netherlands sells shrimp!
Two hours later, our plane landed in Barcelona, the city that marks the beginning of the end of our trip. I'm not ready for it to be over. I think it should be mandatory that all trips abroad are at least a month long. :)
"DOOOOOOOOOONNY!! LET ME IN! I FORGOT MY KEYS! RORY!! CONNER!!!"
It was Irish shouting, which made it slightly more tolerable, but it was shouting nonetheless. After the shouting came the rocks, pelted at the windows (mostly ours). Finally, someone let the Irish kid and his two Dutch lady friends in - and they proceeded to wake all of the other Irish travelers up and talk all night long. I think it goes without saying that that was another sleepless night.
Our final day in Amsterdam was much like the others - admire the beauty of the city, wonder at the lack of ATMs, nightlife, and native food, do work. I did finally get Jon to watch The Hangover, though, which was long overdue. We bid farewell to our cafe/workspace the next afternoon, and left Amsterdam after making the discovery that McDonalds in the Netherlands sells shrimp!
Two hours later, our plane landed in Barcelona, the city that marks the beginning of the end of our trip. I'm not ready for it to be over. I think it should be mandatory that all trips abroad are at least a month long. :)
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Amsterdam: 8.4.10
Dear Amsterdam:
We really need to do something about your food.
Love,
A Concerned Fan
It's not that it's bad...Dutch food might be absolutely divine, for all I know!...it's just that I can't find it anywhere. Fast food? Check. Shawarma and kebabs? Check. Chinese food? Check. Even ludicrously expensive Belgian waffles made it into Amsterdam! But actual Dutch food? Nowhere to be found. Maybe I should take that as a sign that it's terrible and thank my lucky stars that I couldn't find any, but I can't help feeling a little cheated. Part of why I love traveling so much is the opportunity it presents for trying new native cuisines. As far as I can tell, all Holland is good for is clogs, dykes, weed, and windmills.
*sigh*
At least the shawarma was delicious.
We really need to do something about your food.
Love,
A Concerned Fan
It's not that it's bad...Dutch food might be absolutely divine, for all I know!...it's just that I can't find it anywhere. Fast food? Check. Shawarma and kebabs? Check. Chinese food? Check. Even ludicrously expensive Belgian waffles made it into Amsterdam! But actual Dutch food? Nowhere to be found. Maybe I should take that as a sign that it's terrible and thank my lucky stars that I couldn't find any, but I can't help feeling a little cheated. Part of why I love traveling so much is the opportunity it presents for trying new native cuisines. As far as I can tell, all Holland is good for is clogs, dykes, weed, and windmills.
*sigh*
At least the shawarma was delicious.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Amsterdam: 8.3.10
Amsterdam, for better or worse, is almost exactly what you think it is, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure. Let's get the scandalous questions out of the way first:
We checked out of the hotel the next day because its prices were doubling for the rest of the week. Most other hotels in the city were charging the same exorbitant price, so we went in search of my very first hostel! I was actually rather excited...it seemed like a bit of an abomination that an avid traveler like myself had never called a hostel home! We tried a couple of places (including one whose windows bore the slogan "Don't worry, Be sexy") before settling on one that has one of the steepest staircases I have ever seen. Our room is small and unattractive, of course, but it's a private room and our window overlooks all the action in the street below. The wi-fi will only work on Jon's PC, though, so once again we had to find Internet welsewhere. We wandered through the streets for a while before settling on a cafe-by-day/bar-by-night joint that we have since returned to daily.
I really love the look of the city. The streets are often very narrow, so much so that cars do not use them, and curvy. For some reason it reminds me of Muppet Treasure Island...I feel like the streets and buildings often look like exaggerated charicatures of streets and buildings. And I can totally imagine dirty, raucous sailor-types inhabiting the alleys. I must admit that I wasn't expecting the city to be visually appealing, but it most certainly is.
Also surprising is Amsterdam's nightlife - because there is none. I'm shocked...I thought Amsterdam was supposed to be a party city! But I guess everyone is too stoned to go dancing, or something. :)
We woke up in time for breakfast at the hostel the next morning, after a relatively insomnia-free night. The owner and his son actually cooked for everybody, which was cool, but which also meant a fairly limited supply of food. We were all offered coffee or tea, and served a hard-boiled egg with a couple slices of cheese and a basket of bread. At least it was healthier than a waffle or the full Irish breakfast we'd had the morning before!
We promptly went back to bed after eating and slept for a few more hours, before working all afternoon. We also went on a wild ATM goose chase, because apparently Amsterdam decided it just doesn't need them. They are impossible to find. We had to go back to the train station to use one!! What Amsterdam is thinking I will never understand...how do they expect tourists to get money for hookers and weed?!
Dinner was Chinese food, and afterwards we had a cider at a cute little beer bar that, I am convinced, is the only bar in Amsterdam that actually gets customers. Another low-key night...Amsterdam, you are full of surprises!
- Yes, there is weed. We smelled it almost as soon as we left the train station. It's so prevalent, in fact, that while the "coffee shops" that sell it are everywhere, we've had a hard time finding decent bars. I can, however, now say that I've seen a weed menu, which was very strange indeed. It's amusing for novelty's sake, but I must admit that I'm looking forward to being in a city that doesn't have the scent of marijuana wafting through it at all times. The smell is driving me crazy, particularly when I'm in a cafe trying to work and it's coming from the table directly next to me.
- Yes, there are red-lit windows with women standing in them. If I recall correctly, Amsterdam tried somewhat recently to wipe out the sin and vice from the city (which was a terrible idea, because as far as I can tell it's the only reason tourists come here), so the red light district is considerably smaller than it used to be. There are a few streets that still feature the lights and the women, though, so at least I can say I saw it once in my life.
We checked out of the hotel the next day because its prices were doubling for the rest of the week. Most other hotels in the city were charging the same exorbitant price, so we went in search of my very first hostel! I was actually rather excited...it seemed like a bit of an abomination that an avid traveler like myself had never called a hostel home! We tried a couple of places (including one whose windows bore the slogan "Don't worry, Be sexy") before settling on one that has one of the steepest staircases I have ever seen. Our room is small and unattractive, of course, but it's a private room and our window overlooks all the action in the street below. The wi-fi will only work on Jon's PC, though, so once again we had to find Internet welsewhere. We wandered through the streets for a while before settling on a cafe-by-day/bar-by-night joint that we have since returned to daily.
I really love the look of the city. The streets are often very narrow, so much so that cars do not use them, and curvy. For some reason it reminds me of Muppet Treasure Island...I feel like the streets and buildings often look like exaggerated charicatures of streets and buildings. And I can totally imagine dirty, raucous sailor-types inhabiting the alleys. I must admit that I wasn't expecting the city to be visually appealing, but it most certainly is.
Also surprising is Amsterdam's nightlife - because there is none. I'm shocked...I thought Amsterdam was supposed to be a party city! But I guess everyone is too stoned to go dancing, or something. :)
We woke up in time for breakfast at the hostel the next morning, after a relatively insomnia-free night. The owner and his son actually cooked for everybody, which was cool, but which also meant a fairly limited supply of food. We were all offered coffee or tea, and served a hard-boiled egg with a couple slices of cheese and a basket of bread. At least it was healthier than a waffle or the full Irish breakfast we'd had the morning before!
We promptly went back to bed after eating and slept for a few more hours, before working all afternoon. We also went on a wild ATM goose chase, because apparently Amsterdam decided it just doesn't need them. They are impossible to find. We had to go back to the train station to use one!! What Amsterdam is thinking I will never understand...how do they expect tourists to get money for hookers and weed?!
Dinner was Chinese food, and afterwards we had a cider at a cute little beer bar that, I am convinced, is the only bar in Amsterdam that actually gets customers. Another low-key night...Amsterdam, you are full of surprises!
Monday, August 2, 2010
Brussels: 8.2.10
I might have to officially declare Belgium one of my favorite travel destinations so far. I don't think it's a place that would immediately jump into most people's heads when planning a Europe trip, but I absolutely adore it. In the first place, it's beautiful - it has everything a quaint European town is supposed to (cobblestones, ancient architecture), along with all of the conveniences of 21st century life. And the food...oh the food. Nowhere on this trip have we eaten better. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning...
We landed in Brussels and took a train into the center of the city - where we stumbled upon waffles immediately after exiting the station. Naturally we had to purchase on and...*sigh*...Belgian waffles are puffy little squares of heaven. They will live up to any amount of hype, I promise. They're the kind of food that forces you to eat in silence because talking gets in the way of eating and not eating is just unfathomable. Odes have probably been written about the Belgian waffle.
Anyway...
We should probably move on before my keyboard is dripping with saliva.
Waffle successfully procured, we lugged our bags to our hotel and set out in search of wi-fi. The quest for Internet quickly turned into an exploratory wander through the neighborhood, however, and for once sight-seeing won out over responsibility. See? I told you Brussels is beautiful...it can even win over the most workaholic of boyfriends! Our wandering worked up an appetite, so our next mission was finding a source of late night food. It took us awhile, but we eventually came upon a restaurant called Drug Opera (no idea what the name is supposed to mean) that was still open. Jon had a Flemish stew and I had pasta with smoked salmon (delicious!) and, most importantly, we both had our first domestic Belgian beers! Raspberry Lindeman's. I drink it in the US when I can find it, but mmm...it's so much better here. The raspberry flavor was perfect. It's not a strong beer, but we were so exhausted after our long travel day that we were ready to head home as soon as we'd finished. We stopped briefly in a karaoke bar so Jon could get one last drink, and then called it a night.
We woke up the next morning to the soothing sound of construction on the elevator directly outside of our room. I can think of more pleasurable ways to be woken - being pelted with rocks, for example - but at least it got us up at a decent hour and forced us to leave the hotel. I found the Grand Place for Jon, because it's what I remember most about my first trip to Brussels. I even remembered that one of the buildings was constructed to look like the stern of a ship because a captain lived there. I have a terrible memory when it comes to important things, but my ability to retain useless facts is second to none.
Breakfast was a waffle with whipped cream and strawberries from a vendor just outside the Grand Place. After eating we wandered through an outdoor market, a mall, and some of the cutest side streets you could ever be lucky enough to see.
The afternoon was spent sipping cappuccinos in a cafe while getting work done. I also discovered the first episode of the BBC's "Sherlock," a modern day Arthur Conan Doyle adaptation. It's written by Steven Moffat, the "Doctor Who" writer who is responsible for the creation of the one and only Captain Jack Harkness and who is now the head writer of "Who" in the wake of Russell T. Davies' departure. His first season as showrunner of "Who" was brilliant, so I had high expectations for "Sherlock." I was not disappointed in the least. The lead actor's name is Benedict Cumberbatch which, in addition to quite possibly being one of the greatest names of all time, is reason enough to watch the show as far as I'm concerned.
I can't remember what we had for dinner that night, but I wish I could because I'm sure it was scrumptious. We settled on an Irish bar for our post-dinner entertainment, and it turned out to be an awesome venue! I get the impression that Belgium is not particularly interested in big dance clubs, but that the bar scene is exceptionally lively.
Day Three was much the same in Brussels, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. Breakfast was, of course, a waffle - with whipped cream for Jon, and Nutella for me. Honestly, food that delicious should not be legal. Take my word for it when I say that getting fat in Belgium will be some of the most fun you will ever have.
We found a different wi-fi enabled location from which to work all afternoon, complete with Belgian hot chocolate. I also finally purchased a power adapter for myself, which I am unreasonably excited about because it works in the US, UK, EU, and Australia. Well worth every penny spent. We dropped my precious new purchase and our laptops back at the hotel and then returned to one of the cute streets we had discovered on Day Two for dinner: two free drinks each, plus an appetizer, main course, and dessert for €12.50. Not bad at all! The food was slow, but it was good. I had a cheese thing to start that was called "fondue" on the menu, but was not what you picture when you hear that word. It was sort of a small rectangle of fried cheese, which I haven't had since the family trip to Switzerland and Austria years ago! My main course was "moules frites," mussels with french fries, which I knew I had to have at least once before leaving Belgium! Dessert turned out to be flan, sadly, but I ate it anyway because I am incapable of turning down dessert.
After dinner we paid a visit to a local casino because it was lit entirely by color-changing rainbow lights in various forms and we are also incapabable of resisting shiny things. The place wasn't terribly exciting beyond the lights, but Jon won €70 or so at the blackjack tables, so it turned out to be a worthwhile stop. Afterwards we went back to the Irish bar, which was even better than it had been the night before. The upstairs dancefloor actually had room for dancing on it, and the music was good electronic stuff. Downstairs they were playing all of my favorite alternative and indie rock of the last decade - The Killers, The Kaiser Chiefs, The Strokes, Franz Ferdinand - so I was a very happy camper aurally all night. My other favorite part of the night was a group of British customers, some of whom were wearing colorful wigs and some of whom were dressed in matching red bowties, tweed jackets, and bowler hats. One even had a pipe! I complemented them on their attire, but I never had a chance to ask what the occasion was (or, indeed, if there was an occasion at all). We brought the evening to a close with frites in hot Samurai sauce and a final walk past the hookers that had decorated the street corners by our hotel every night. :)
I didn't want to leave Belgium, but the sadness was tempered by a trip to Bruges before leaving the country. We bought some truffles to bring home to the States and saw the infamous Manneken Pis, because I figured I couldn't let Jon leave Belgium without having seen it. Then we hopped a train to Bruges, and an hour later we were disembarking in the city and meeting a high school friend of Jon's who now lives nearby. Bruges, for those who don't know, is a picturesque medieval town with Venice-like canals. It is, in a word, gorgeous. I'd seen it during my last trip to Belgium, and was pleased to see that nothing had changed since then. Considering that the city is famous because it basically hasn't changed in hundreds of years, though, I shouldn't have been surprised. :)
We wandered through the fish market, down the canals, in and out of churches, and through a park. We also passed through the grounds of a Benedictine monastery, which was a rather interesting accident! After a couple of hours of walking, we settled into a cafe for refreshments and Jon and Sofie spent the rest of the afternoon catching up and reminiscing about their high school exploits. Sofie walked us back to the train station and we bid her farewell. After a 3 hour journey and a brief stop in Antwerp, we arrived in Amsterdam, where we can now be found. Though I expected Amsterdam to be a tourist trap city filled with obnoxious American kids looking to get high, I'm finding that I actually rather like it.
But that, dear reader, is a story for another entry... :)
Shoulder Watch: The MSP is all but gone, I think! Though I still find that it gets tired quickly if I carry bags on that shoulder and I still cannot sleep on my left side.
We landed in Brussels and took a train into the center of the city - where we stumbled upon waffles immediately after exiting the station. Naturally we had to purchase on and...*sigh*...Belgian waffles are puffy little squares of heaven. They will live up to any amount of hype, I promise. They're the kind of food that forces you to eat in silence because talking gets in the way of eating and not eating is just unfathomable. Odes have probably been written about the Belgian waffle.
Anyway...
We should probably move on before my keyboard is dripping with saliva.
Waffle successfully procured, we lugged our bags to our hotel and set out in search of wi-fi. The quest for Internet quickly turned into an exploratory wander through the neighborhood, however, and for once sight-seeing won out over responsibility. See? I told you Brussels is beautiful...it can even win over the most workaholic of boyfriends! Our wandering worked up an appetite, so our next mission was finding a source of late night food. It took us awhile, but we eventually came upon a restaurant called Drug Opera (no idea what the name is supposed to mean) that was still open. Jon had a Flemish stew and I had pasta with smoked salmon (delicious!) and, most importantly, we both had our first domestic Belgian beers! Raspberry Lindeman's. I drink it in the US when I can find it, but mmm...it's so much better here. The raspberry flavor was perfect. It's not a strong beer, but we were so exhausted after our long travel day that we were ready to head home as soon as we'd finished. We stopped briefly in a karaoke bar so Jon could get one last drink, and then called it a night.
We woke up the next morning to the soothing sound of construction on the elevator directly outside of our room. I can think of more pleasurable ways to be woken - being pelted with rocks, for example - but at least it got us up at a decent hour and forced us to leave the hotel. I found the Grand Place for Jon, because it's what I remember most about my first trip to Brussels. I even remembered that one of the buildings was constructed to look like the stern of a ship because a captain lived there. I have a terrible memory when it comes to important things, but my ability to retain useless facts is second to none.
Breakfast was a waffle with whipped cream and strawberries from a vendor just outside the Grand Place. After eating we wandered through an outdoor market, a mall, and some of the cutest side streets you could ever be lucky enough to see.
The afternoon was spent sipping cappuccinos in a cafe while getting work done. I also discovered the first episode of the BBC's "Sherlock," a modern day Arthur Conan Doyle adaptation. It's written by Steven Moffat, the "Doctor Who" writer who is responsible for the creation of the one and only Captain Jack Harkness and who is now the head writer of "Who" in the wake of Russell T. Davies' departure. His first season as showrunner of "Who" was brilliant, so I had high expectations for "Sherlock." I was not disappointed in the least. The lead actor's name is Benedict Cumberbatch which, in addition to quite possibly being one of the greatest names of all time, is reason enough to watch the show as far as I'm concerned.
I can't remember what we had for dinner that night, but I wish I could because I'm sure it was scrumptious. We settled on an Irish bar for our post-dinner entertainment, and it turned out to be an awesome venue! I get the impression that Belgium is not particularly interested in big dance clubs, but that the bar scene is exceptionally lively.
Day Three was much the same in Brussels, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. Breakfast was, of course, a waffle - with whipped cream for Jon, and Nutella for me. Honestly, food that delicious should not be legal. Take my word for it when I say that getting fat in Belgium will be some of the most fun you will ever have.
We found a different wi-fi enabled location from which to work all afternoon, complete with Belgian hot chocolate. I also finally purchased a power adapter for myself, which I am unreasonably excited about because it works in the US, UK, EU, and Australia. Well worth every penny spent. We dropped my precious new purchase and our laptops back at the hotel and then returned to one of the cute streets we had discovered on Day Two for dinner: two free drinks each, plus an appetizer, main course, and dessert for €12.50. Not bad at all! The food was slow, but it was good. I had a cheese thing to start that was called "fondue" on the menu, but was not what you picture when you hear that word. It was sort of a small rectangle of fried cheese, which I haven't had since the family trip to Switzerland and Austria years ago! My main course was "moules frites," mussels with french fries, which I knew I had to have at least once before leaving Belgium! Dessert turned out to be flan, sadly, but I ate it anyway because I am incapable of turning down dessert.
After dinner we paid a visit to a local casino because it was lit entirely by color-changing rainbow lights in various forms and we are also incapabable of resisting shiny things. The place wasn't terribly exciting beyond the lights, but Jon won €70 or so at the blackjack tables, so it turned out to be a worthwhile stop. Afterwards we went back to the Irish bar, which was even better than it had been the night before. The upstairs dancefloor actually had room for dancing on it, and the music was good electronic stuff. Downstairs they were playing all of my favorite alternative and indie rock of the last decade - The Killers, The Kaiser Chiefs, The Strokes, Franz Ferdinand - so I was a very happy camper aurally all night. My other favorite part of the night was a group of British customers, some of whom were wearing colorful wigs and some of whom were dressed in matching red bowties, tweed jackets, and bowler hats. One even had a pipe! I complemented them on their attire, but I never had a chance to ask what the occasion was (or, indeed, if there was an occasion at all). We brought the evening to a close with frites in hot Samurai sauce and a final walk past the hookers that had decorated the street corners by our hotel every night. :)
I didn't want to leave Belgium, but the sadness was tempered by a trip to Bruges before leaving the country. We bought some truffles to bring home to the States and saw the infamous Manneken Pis, because I figured I couldn't let Jon leave Belgium without having seen it. Then we hopped a train to Bruges, and an hour later we were disembarking in the city and meeting a high school friend of Jon's who now lives nearby. Bruges, for those who don't know, is a picturesque medieval town with Venice-like canals. It is, in a word, gorgeous. I'd seen it during my last trip to Belgium, and was pleased to see that nothing had changed since then. Considering that the city is famous because it basically hasn't changed in hundreds of years, though, I shouldn't have been surprised. :)
We wandered through the fish market, down the canals, in and out of churches, and through a park. We also passed through the grounds of a Benedictine monastery, which was a rather interesting accident! After a couple of hours of walking, we settled into a cafe for refreshments and Jon and Sofie spent the rest of the afternoon catching up and reminiscing about their high school exploits. Sofie walked us back to the train station and we bid her farewell. After a 3 hour journey and a brief stop in Antwerp, we arrived in Amsterdam, where we can now be found. Though I expected Amsterdam to be a tourist trap city filled with obnoxious American kids looking to get high, I'm finding that I actually rather like it.
But that, dear reader, is a story for another entry... :)
Shoulder Watch: The MSP is all but gone, I think! Though I still find that it gets tired quickly if I carry bags on that shoulder and I still cannot sleep on my left side.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Brussels: 7.31.10
Hmm...those last few posts were utterly useless!
As you have heard, we have left Helsinki behind in favor of Brussels, a decision I am very pleased with (not because I disliked Finland, mind you, but because I adore Belgium!). I didn't think I would ever manage to convince Jon to see Brussels, since the only compelling argument I could think of for going was "But it's pretty! Really pretty!" and I'm fairly certain that's not exactly what most men look for when determining which cities they would like to spend time in. But he reminded me that Belgium has:
...and the rest, as they say, is history. In a rather epic turn of events, we spent our travel day having breakfast in Helsinki, lunch in Stockholm, and dinner in Brussels. I think that sums up my life (or my ideal life, anyway) nicely. :)
My final opinion of Helsinki is that it is a pretty city, and one that I would definitely return to, but not a location that I would live in for an extended period of time. I'm not sure it suits me for a long-term stay. It impressed me visually, as I said, but food was expensive and not terribly good. I didn't get much of a chance to interact with the people, so I wasn't able to get a feel for how friendly they are. Then again, I suppose it's always possible that I didn't interact with them because they weren't friendly and were avoiding me! I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, though! My only regret where Finland is concerned is not spending more time exploring Helsinki during the day. Work, as per usual, got in the way and I had to spend much of my time glued to my laptop. Maybe one day I'll go on a vacation that's just a vacation, and I can journal and blog until my fingers fall off! We did at least manage to go on a few nice walks through the Helsinki streets, and have a picnic of Chinese food in the park by the lake that was outside of our hotel. Fighting off the bugs was good practice for the upcoming annual family camping trip. :)
The other highlights of Helsinki were the foreign-themed bars - our first night was spent in an Australian-themed bar, as I mentioned, and we whiled away the hours of our second night in Prague- and Dublin-themed establishments - and the gay club we stumbled upon on the last night. I wish we'd discovered it earlier! It was described to us as "straight friendly," and in fact it was so straight friendly that practically everyone there was straight! Jon even managed to win money at the blackjack table they had despite claims that "Straight guys never win!" All in all, a lovely evening and the perfect end to our time in Helsinki.
Shoulder Watch: The Mysterious Shoulder Pain was significantly less aggravated than I was expecting it to be after our flights to Belgium. Perhaps things are looking up!
As you have heard, we have left Helsinki behind in favor of Brussels, a decision I am very pleased with (not because I disliked Finland, mind you, but because I adore Belgium!). I didn't think I would ever manage to convince Jon to see Brussels, since the only compelling argument I could think of for going was "But it's pretty! Really pretty!" and I'm fairly certain that's not exactly what most men look for when determining which cities they would like to spend time in. But he reminded me that Belgium has:
A) Chocolate
B) Beer
C) Waffles
B) Beer
C) Waffles
...and the rest, as they say, is history. In a rather epic turn of events, we spent our travel day having breakfast in Helsinki, lunch in Stockholm, and dinner in Brussels. I think that sums up my life (or my ideal life, anyway) nicely. :)
My final opinion of Helsinki is that it is a pretty city, and one that I would definitely return to, but not a location that I would live in for an extended period of time. I'm not sure it suits me for a long-term stay. It impressed me visually, as I said, but food was expensive and not terribly good. I didn't get much of a chance to interact with the people, so I wasn't able to get a feel for how friendly they are. Then again, I suppose it's always possible that I didn't interact with them because they weren't friendly and were avoiding me! I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt, though! My only regret where Finland is concerned is not spending more time exploring Helsinki during the day. Work, as per usual, got in the way and I had to spend much of my time glued to my laptop. Maybe one day I'll go on a vacation that's just a vacation, and I can journal and blog until my fingers fall off! We did at least manage to go on a few nice walks through the Helsinki streets, and have a picnic of Chinese food in the park by the lake that was outside of our hotel. Fighting off the bugs was good practice for the upcoming annual family camping trip. :)
The other highlights of Helsinki were the foreign-themed bars - our first night was spent in an Australian-themed bar, as I mentioned, and we whiled away the hours of our second night in Prague- and Dublin-themed establishments - and the gay club we stumbled upon on the last night. I wish we'd discovered it earlier! It was described to us as "straight friendly," and in fact it was so straight friendly that practically everyone there was straight! Jon even managed to win money at the blackjack table they had despite claims that "Straight guys never win!" All in all, a lovely evening and the perfect end to our time in Helsinki.
Shoulder Watch: The Mysterious Shoulder Pain was significantly less aggravated than I was expecting it to be after our flights to Belgium. Perhaps things are looking up!
Friday, July 30, 2010
Pre-Trip: 7.30.10
My apologies for the delay in updating...we've been on the move, and our newest hotel doesn't have Internet. Hopefully I'll have a new post for you soon!
But in the meantime, here is a picture of me...hangin' out with Eddie Izzard. :)
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Brussels: 7.29.10
Still wishing I had antigravity toothpaste.
Instead, I am now in Brussels and had, only a few hours ago, my first Belgian waffle in 8 years. It was glorious.
Instead, I am now in Brussels and had, only a few hours ago, my first Belgian waffle in 8 years. It was glorious.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Helsinki: 7.28.10
Today's lesson: Brushing your teeth is infinitely more fun when you are half asleep and "Flouride Anticavity Toothpaste" reads as "Flouride Antigravity Toothpaste."
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Helsinki: 7.27.10
As it turns out, the bus to Helsinki = significantly less sketchy than the Chinatown bus. I was expecting an ancient rickety contraption with a driver who made me fear for my life at every turn, but this was actually a respectable operation! The journey felt interminable, of course, but it went off without a hitch. Jon and I managed to sleep through most of it, only really waking to pass through passport control. We also managed to be awake long enough to see that our neighbor was carrying 5,000 euros! My undisputed favorite moment of the trip, however, was our stop at the duty free shop: all of the other passengers practically FLEW off the bus, and when they returned almost every single person was carrying a bag with the unmistakable clink of alcohol bottles jostling against each other. Oh Russians, how you amuse me!
The bus dropped us off in what appeared to be a very large, very cosmopolitan city square and shopping center. It was a bit jarring, coming from the significantly less modern and industrialized Saint Petersburg, but very beautiful nonetheless. It was sometime between 10:30 and 11 at night as we walked to our hotel, so we got to enjoy all of the city's gorgeous lights along the way. We checked in and stayed briefly, so that I could call home to wish Nik a happy birthday, and then ventured out in search of food.
Most everything was closed, so we grabbed cheeseburgers at a stand on the street and wandered back to the square we'd arrived in to find drinks. Jon spotted a McDonald's and dashed inside instantly for an order of chicken nuggets, but they ended up being one of the saddest excuses for a processed chicken product that has ever passed through my lips. We made for a dismal first Finnish food experience with the discovery of an establishment called Aussie Bar. I stuck to drinking water, but Jon said that his Long Island Ice Tea was the best alcoholic beverage he'd had since leaving the States, plus my water was actually free and both it and Jon's drink contained ice! The last two things are, of course, rarities in Europe.
Things are definitely off to a good start in Helsinki.
The bus dropped us off in what appeared to be a very large, very cosmopolitan city square and shopping center. It was a bit jarring, coming from the significantly less modern and industrialized Saint Petersburg, but very beautiful nonetheless. It was sometime between 10:30 and 11 at night as we walked to our hotel, so we got to enjoy all of the city's gorgeous lights along the way. We checked in and stayed briefly, so that I could call home to wish Nik a happy birthday, and then ventured out in search of food.
Most everything was closed, so we grabbed cheeseburgers at a stand on the street and wandered back to the square we'd arrived in to find drinks. Jon spotted a McDonald's and dashed inside instantly for an order of chicken nuggets, but they ended up being one of the saddest excuses for a processed chicken product that has ever passed through my lips. We made for a dismal first Finnish food experience with the discovery of an establishment called Aussie Bar. I stuck to drinking water, but Jon said that his Long Island Ice Tea was the best alcoholic beverage he'd had since leaving the States, plus my water was actually free and both it and Jon's drink contained ice! The last two things are, of course, rarities in Europe.
Things are definitely off to a good start in Helsinki.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Saint Petersburg: 7.26.10
Happy birthday little bro! :) In seven hours time I will be in Helsinki, Finland and hopefully I will be able to call you from there to send you my felicitations properly.
Yes, I said Finland. Helsinki, to be precise. As you can see, we have already deviated from the list of intended destinations for this journey. The plan to make Odessa our next stop was scrapped, as tickets proved to be significantly more expensive than either of us was expecting. Potential new plans ran the gamut from Belgium to Sweden to a return to Malta, but we settled on Helsinki because plane tickets were only around $130. Or so we thought. Clicking on the link to purchase the tickets lead to a new page which featured fares that were, shall we say, drastically enhanced.
The next plan was a train, which was only a little bit more expensive than the initial price we were quoted for the plane. I figured most any train ride had to be better than my train-related experience in Venice (http://occasiopraeceps.blogspot.com/2009/11/venice-103109.html), so I was totally on board for the railway approach. but then we discovered a Saint Petersburg-Helsinki bus for only $40 and, well, that price was just too good to pass up, though it adds an extra hour to our travel time. It's a small price to pay for a small price!
[On a side note, someone is playing Muse very loudly in the bus station and it's making me immensely happy.]
Our last nights in Russia were very quiet, in keeping with what is apparently the theme of this trip. We said our goodbyes to Metro Club on Saturday night, but the event turned into a deep discussion about life and other trivial things over beer and absinthe instead of an evening of vapid partying. As on previous days, we kept our internal clocks on east coast time and stayed awake until our hotel began serving breakfast at 8am. We then napped for a brief while before checking out and trekking to a new hotel, a short ways off of Nevsky Prospekt.
Sleep...sleep...and more sleep...and suddenly it was evening, Russian time, and it was time to get up! It sounds confusing, but I actually rather enjoyed getting to know my vampire side, filling pages with story notes in cramped and frantically excited handwriting, indulging in mint chocolate chip ice cream at 5:30am, and watching the city and its denizens wake for the day.
Must go for now...Helsinki beckons!!
Shoulder watch: Ouch.
Yes, I said Finland. Helsinki, to be precise. As you can see, we have already deviated from the list of intended destinations for this journey. The plan to make Odessa our next stop was scrapped, as tickets proved to be significantly more expensive than either of us was expecting. Potential new plans ran the gamut from Belgium to Sweden to a return to Malta, but we settled on Helsinki because plane tickets were only around $130. Or so we thought. Clicking on the link to purchase the tickets lead to a new page which featured fares that were, shall we say, drastically enhanced.
The next plan was a train, which was only a little bit more expensive than the initial price we were quoted for the plane. I figured most any train ride had to be better than my train-related experience in Venice (http://occasiopraeceps.blogspot.com/2009/11/venice-103109.html), so I was totally on board for the railway approach. but then we discovered a Saint Petersburg-Helsinki bus for only $40 and, well, that price was just too good to pass up, though it adds an extra hour to our travel time. It's a small price to pay for a small price!
[On a side note, someone is playing Muse very loudly in the bus station and it's making me immensely happy.]
Our last nights in Russia were very quiet, in keeping with what is apparently the theme of this trip. We said our goodbyes to Metro Club on Saturday night, but the event turned into a deep discussion about life and other trivial things over beer and absinthe instead of an evening of vapid partying. As on previous days, we kept our internal clocks on east coast time and stayed awake until our hotel began serving breakfast at 8am. We then napped for a brief while before checking out and trekking to a new hotel, a short ways off of Nevsky Prospekt.
Sleep...sleep...and more sleep...and suddenly it was evening, Russian time, and it was time to get up! It sounds confusing, but I actually rather enjoyed getting to know my vampire side, filling pages with story notes in cramped and frantically excited handwriting, indulging in mint chocolate chip ice cream at 5:30am, and watching the city and its denizens wake for the day.
Must go for now...Helsinki beckons!!
Shoulder watch: Ouch.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Saint Petersburg: 7.24.10
Not too much to report today...after our chat with Boris the previous night, he instructed Jon to carry the bottle in his pocket and sent us off. When we returned to our hotel room, Jon took an hour long business call with a wonderfully stereotypical New York Jewish woman. The call was interminable, but in kept us up until 8am when breakfast is served and Jon now has a very high profile interview set up. Other than that, the last day has been very low key. There was lots of work to be done, so we stayed in Friday night and were diligent. I also managed to get in some great writing on the story I devised during our last trip abroad. Well, not writing exactly, but planning. I'm really starting to believe that I am more creative while traveling than while sitting still. It's something about hotel rooms, I'm sure of it! My big problem now is that I'm unsure of how to proceed. I feel like I'll want a fairly good plan before I start writing, but I also don't want to suck the spontaneity out of the process. Where artistic endeavors are concerned, plans are always subject to change. I don't yet know when "Planning so that you have a complete, well-thought-out story with direction" crosses the line and becomes "Procrastination to avoid the actual hard work of writing." I'm also a little stuck on:
- My writing style. My creativity is very visual (a remnant of years of writing screenplays, no doubt), and while I enjoy watching the way stories write themselves in my head, I'm having difficulty translating it into prose. I see exact looks on character's faces, hear specific tones in their voices, and often find myself confused about how to explain precisely what I see, hear, and feel without sounding cheesy or amateurish. I also find transitions troubling. I understand "Cut to" and "Fade to black" but elegant transitions in novel form escape me. What do you say? What do you leave out? I'm sure by now you're thinking "Just make it a script and stop whining about it," but the novel format is all that feels right for this particular story. A movie is too short, and a TV show is too long. A mini-series would could work - and would actually be quite fun down the line - but only on a big budget network like HBO or Showtime.
- Execution. I can't quite shake the nagging feeling that I'm good at coming up with ideas, but not so good at turning them into readable prose. My writing always feels juvenile. Maybe I need I writing partner...I can be the idea person, and he or she can transform my ideas into something readable!
- My shoulder, which insists on aching every time I try to write. I do not need Skinnerian negative reinforcement where writing is concerned!
Friday, July 23, 2010
Saint Petersburg: 7.23.10
My journal has been traveling with me for eight years...I can't believe it. It's a record of almost all of my foreign travels (Oxford onwards) and many of the things in between, and what it doesn't cover is written about in a notebook that's safely tucked away on a bookshelf in California. It's a good thing my writing is small, or I would constantly need new journals!
But you didn't come here to listen to me go on and on about my nostalgia...you want to hear about Saint Petersburg! My feelings about this trip, so far, can be summed up as follows:
THINGS I'VE MISSED
- Light switches on the outside of bathrooms
- Showerheads that can be removed and hand-held
- Hotel breakfasts (in Russia they almost always include hot dogs)
- Amusing Cyrillic spellings of English words (or foreign words we use in English)
- Russian dancing (just as bad as ever, thank God!)
THINGS I HAVE NOT MISSED
- Jet lag
- 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner
- Measured drinks
THINGS I WAS NOT EXPECTING
-Consistently good wi-fi
-Daylight for all but 4-5 hours of the day
-Russian mosquitoes
After a lazy afternoon yesterday, we made an attempt to find a new club. Most of the places we were interested in checking out were in the same are of the city, so we figured we would just head in that general direction. One long stroll down Nevsky Prospekt, the major street in Saint Petersburg, later and we spotted the first intriguing bar. It turned out to be small and mostly empty, but we stayed for a quick drink before heading off again. Who were we to turn down cheap mixed drinks and real Redbull (a luxury outside of the US)?!
The next bar we came upon looked promising, but they wanted 200 rubles for Jon and 1000 for me! That, in July of 2010, is about $30. We managed to get them down to 500 for both of us, but money is a little tight these days so we moved on.
We tried Revolution next, a club that we'd been to last year, but they also wanted an unexpectedly high cover. I'm not sure why...it's not like the locals can afford it. We wandered around for a bit, trying to formulate a new plan of attack, when suddenly we stumbled upon what can only be described as Dive Bar Row. It was like Williamsburg decided Brooklyn was becoming too upscale so it packed its bags and headed for somewhere poorer. The bars were a hipster's paradise, though with somewhat less irony and significantly less PBR. We had a drink in one before deciding that the better cultural experience would be drinking on the street with the throngs of people outside.
1 deli trip later and we were sitting on the curb, "Redbulls and vodkas up in our hands" (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBRhoB5V_fA for the origin of the quote). We got into a nice chat and fought off mosquitoes until the sun came up and the bars closed. Then the real fun began. We were on our way home when two cops approached us. I couldn't understand most of what they said, of course, but the gist of it seemed to be that, while drinking beer on the street was just fine, carrying an opened bottle of vodka down the street was not. Then they asked us to come to the station with them.
Don't get too excited...the "But I'm a tourist and I didn't know any better!" excuse worked out just fine (aided by its white lie counterpart "But we're from New York, and it's ok to do it there!"), and we ended up befriending Boris the Police Officer with a conversation about how early bars close in America and how short Tom Cruise is. We shook hands and said goodbye, and went on our merry way. I am, I must admit, a bit proud of my brush with the Russian law...it must have upped my street cred by at least several thousand points. ;)
But you didn't come here to listen to me go on and on about my nostalgia...you want to hear about Saint Petersburg! My feelings about this trip, so far, can be summed up as follows:
THINGS I'VE MISSED
- Light switches on the outside of bathrooms
- Showerheads that can be removed and hand-held
- Hotel breakfasts (in Russia they almost always include hot dogs)
- Amusing Cyrillic spellings of English words (or foreign words we use in English)
- Russian dancing (just as bad as ever, thank God!)
THINGS I HAVE NOT MISSED
- Jet lag
- 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner
- Measured drinks
THINGS I WAS NOT EXPECTING
-Consistently good wi-fi
-Daylight for all but 4-5 hours of the day
-Russian mosquitoes
After a lazy afternoon yesterday, we made an attempt to find a new club. Most of the places we were interested in checking out were in the same are of the city, so we figured we would just head in that general direction. One long stroll down Nevsky Prospekt, the major street in Saint Petersburg, later and we spotted the first intriguing bar. It turned out to be small and mostly empty, but we stayed for a quick drink before heading off again. Who were we to turn down cheap mixed drinks and real Redbull (a luxury outside of the US)?!
The next bar we came upon looked promising, but they wanted 200 rubles for Jon and 1000 for me! That, in July of 2010, is about $30. We managed to get them down to 500 for both of us, but money is a little tight these days so we moved on.
We tried Revolution next, a club that we'd been to last year, but they also wanted an unexpectedly high cover. I'm not sure why...it's not like the locals can afford it. We wandered around for a bit, trying to formulate a new plan of attack, when suddenly we stumbled upon what can only be described as Dive Bar Row. It was like Williamsburg decided Brooklyn was becoming too upscale so it packed its bags and headed for somewhere poorer. The bars were a hipster's paradise, though with somewhat less irony and significantly less PBR. We had a drink in one before deciding that the better cultural experience would be drinking on the street with the throngs of people outside.
1 deli trip later and we were sitting on the curb, "Redbulls and vodkas up in our hands" (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBRhoB5V_fA for the origin of the quote). We got into a nice chat and fought off mosquitoes until the sun came up and the bars closed. Then the real fun began. We were on our way home when two cops approached us. I couldn't understand most of what they said, of course, but the gist of it seemed to be that, while drinking beer on the street was just fine, carrying an opened bottle of vodka down the street was not. Then they asked us to come to the station with them.
Don't get too excited...the "But I'm a tourist and I didn't know any better!" excuse worked out just fine (aided by its white lie counterpart "But we're from New York, and it's ok to do it there!"), and we ended up befriending Boris the Police Officer with a conversation about how early bars close in America and how short Tom Cruise is. We shook hands and said goodbye, and went on our merry way. I am, I must admit, a bit proud of my brush with the Russian law...it must have upped my street cred by at least several thousand points. ;)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Saint Petersburg: 7.22.10
A very successful first day in Saint Petersburg! After psyching myself up for arguing with cab drivers over the cost of the ride from the airport to our hotel, I managed to find the nicest driver in all of Russia. I was expecting to have to negotiate the price down to somewhere between 1000 and 1200 rubles - my driver offered to take me for 700 before I'd had a chance to say anything other than the address. And he complimented my Russian as I got out of the cab. Too bad tipping isn't customary here...he would have gotten a big one!
Jon was waiting for me in front of the hotel and after a few moments of glorious reunion, we headed upstairs for several hours of napping, working, and reading On The Road, which I am absolutely loving (I can't believe it took me this long to read it!).
We spent the remainder of the evening, naturally, at Metro Club, our favorite nightlife spot from last year's trip. Nothing too eventful happened...we danced, we drank, we laughed, we cried, we ate baked potatoes ("kartoshka," in Russian), &c. A typical night out.
Today began the way all days in Russia should: with blini. Salmon and cranberry. I'm going to do my best to not gain weight on this trip like I did on the last one, but I have a feeling that tasty foreign cuisine is going to prove the victor in the food vs. figure battle! It usually does.
On the plus side: the weather here is gorgeous! Who knew that Russia is a pleasant temperature at times?!
Jon was waiting for me in front of the hotel and after a few moments of glorious reunion, we headed upstairs for several hours of napping, working, and reading On The Road, which I am absolutely loving (I can't believe it took me this long to read it!).
We spent the remainder of the evening, naturally, at Metro Club, our favorite nightlife spot from last year's trip. Nothing too eventful happened...we danced, we drank, we laughed, we cried, we ate baked potatoes ("kartoshka," in Russian), &c. A typical night out.
Today began the way all days in Russia should: with blini. Salmon and cranberry. I'm going to do my best to not gain weight on this trip like I did on the last one, but I have a feeling that tasty foreign cuisine is going to prove the victor in the food vs. figure battle! It usually does.
On the plus side: the weather here is gorgeous! Who knew that Russia is a pleasant temperature at times?!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Saint Petersburg: 7.21.10
"It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow." -- Jack Kerouac, On The Road
Here I am: sitting uncomfortably in the Dusseldorf airport, waiting for the connecting flight that will take me to Saint Petersburg and on to my next great adventure. My left shoulder, which decided over a week ago to be constantly, achingly sore, is immensely displeased with my decision to put it on a long trans-Atlantic flight and make it carry a heavy bag. I'm crossing my fingers that it will heal - and quickly! - because there will be quite a few more bags and planes over the next few weeks and I can't afford to have my shoulder threatening mutiny every step of the way.
The schedule for this latest undertaking, as with The Great World Tour of '09, is not set in stone. Our tentative plan is to spend a week in Saint Petersburg, which will be nice since I didn't get to see much of it last time, followed by two weeks of traveling wherever we please. At the moment, the trip will be:
St. Petersburg, Russia
Odessa, Ukraine
Copenhagen, Denmark
Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Barcelona, Spain
Only three weeks this time, but still not too shabby! ;)
My 2010 voyage began with an amazing final day in New York: a free 1.5 hour massage from a Burner friend, meeting Eddie Izzard after sitting front row, center to see him in Mamet's "Race" on Broadway, and, of course, free farewell drinks at Keybar with the nearest and dearest.
Any trip that begins so auspiciously is bound to be a good one!
Here I am: sitting uncomfortably in the Dusseldorf airport, waiting for the connecting flight that will take me to Saint Petersburg and on to my next great adventure. My left shoulder, which decided over a week ago to be constantly, achingly sore, is immensely displeased with my decision to put it on a long trans-Atlantic flight and make it carry a heavy bag. I'm crossing my fingers that it will heal - and quickly! - because there will be quite a few more bags and planes over the next few weeks and I can't afford to have my shoulder threatening mutiny every step of the way.
The schedule for this latest undertaking, as with The Great World Tour of '09, is not set in stone. Our tentative plan is to spend a week in Saint Petersburg, which will be nice since I didn't get to see much of it last time, followed by two weeks of traveling wherever we please. At the moment, the trip will be:
St. Petersburg, Russia
Odessa, Ukraine
Copenhagen, Denmark
Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Barcelona, Spain
Only three weeks this time, but still not too shabby! ;)
My 2010 voyage began with an amazing final day in New York: a free 1.5 hour massage from a Burner friend, meeting Eddie Izzard after sitting front row, center to see him in Mamet's "Race" on Broadway, and, of course, free farewell drinks at Keybar with the nearest and dearest.
Any trip that begins so auspiciously is bound to be a good one!
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