I'm home.
So now what?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Briefest of overviews
I won't say much about the last two days in London except...
Grossest hostel ever (me, Sarah, three hairy Italian men and one hairy New Yorker in a small room in the attic of what seemed like the world's most claustrophobia-inducing hostel (thankfully rescued the next day by our friend George).
Free galleries (Van Gogh, Rosetta Stone, Renoir, ginormous Syrian gates, mummies, the Parthenon).
Fantastic "fruitstock" festival in Regent's Park - healthy food, good music, duck herding, maypole dancing, dog-agility, etc (crazy Brits).
...and best of all...front row spaces at Architecture in Helsinki's relatively unpublicised record release party in Hoxton (for £5 - about $10). As one of our favorite bands, Sarah and I were completely freaking out, and I think we converted George too.
Leaving for home tomorrow. Love you all.
Grossest hostel ever (me, Sarah, three hairy Italian men and one hairy New Yorker in a small room in the attic of what seemed like the world's most claustrophobia-inducing hostel (thankfully rescued the next day by our friend George).
Free galleries (Van Gogh, Rosetta Stone, Renoir, ginormous Syrian gates, mummies, the Parthenon).
Fantastic "fruitstock" festival in Regent's Park - healthy food, good music, duck herding, maypole dancing, dog-agility, etc (crazy Brits).
...and best of all...front row spaces at Architecture in Helsinki's relatively unpublicised record release party in Hoxton (for £5 - about $10). As one of our favorite bands, Sarah and I were completely freaking out, and I think we converted George too.
Leaving for home tomorrow. Love you all.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
...but Scotland even more so
Edinburgh, Scotland...where do I even start? This place is amazing.
After a relaxing and fairly uneventful three days in Belfast we took a bus to the small seaside Irish town of Westport for a night. There, we visited a pub owned by a member of the Irish folk music group The Chieftans (Matt Malloy's) and met an entertaining middle aged couple who bought us Guinnesses and chatted for a bit. The husband (Willy) wanted to talk politics, but whenever she thought he was getting too opinionated, the wife (Kathy) would tactfully steer the conversation into what a good time we were going to have in Edinburgh...or the weather. According to Willy, the British have been occupying North Ireland since Cromwell, and the last of them just left that day. I haven't fact-checked, but if that's true, it's pretty amazing.
After several long bus rides, we flew from Dublin to Edinburgh, where we are enjoying the beginnings of the Fringe Festival. The improv group from Cal Poly performs there every other year (this isn't their year), and we just saw another improv troup this afternoon. If Sarah can convince me we will go see Sweeny Todd (it's expensive, but I really do want to see it!). My internet time is running out here, but we're off to look at the Queen's Palace! Cheers!
After a relaxing and fairly uneventful three days in Belfast we took a bus to the small seaside Irish town of Westport for a night. There, we visited a pub owned by a member of the Irish folk music group The Chieftans (Matt Malloy's) and met an entertaining middle aged couple who bought us Guinnesses and chatted for a bit. The husband (Willy) wanted to talk politics, but whenever she thought he was getting too opinionated, the wife (Kathy) would tactfully steer the conversation into what a good time we were going to have in Edinburgh...or the weather. According to Willy, the British have been occupying North Ireland since Cromwell, and the last of them just left that day. I haven't fact-checked, but if that's true, it's pretty amazing.
After several long bus rides, we flew from Dublin to Edinburgh, where we are enjoying the beginnings of the Fringe Festival. The improv group from Cal Poly performs there every other year (this isn't their year), and we just saw another improv troup this afternoon. If Sarah can convince me we will go see Sweeny Todd (it's expensive, but I really do want to see it!). My internet time is running out here, but we're off to look at the Queen's Palace! Cheers!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Photos
Non-facebook people, I've put up some photos. So far it's just France, Sweden, Finland, and the beginning of Denmark. Here's a link:
Part I
and
Part II
Also, I want to wish a very happy birthday to my dad and Aubrey!! I wish I was there to help you celebrate. No, more like I wish you were here. We could have some grand bantery craic (fun). I'm going to try to get to a phone at some point today. Love you guys!
Part I
and
Part II
Also, I want to wish a very happy birthday to my dad and Aubrey!! I wish I was there to help you celebrate. No, more like I wish you were here. We could have some grand bantery craic (fun). I'm going to try to get to a phone at some point today. Love you guys!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Oh my Guinness, I love Ireland
We are in Belfast visiting Sarah's friends, eating Wheaten Bread (yes, it deserves to be capitalized), and going to mass. This morning after church we had an Ulster fry - several different types of bread, bacon, sausage, and eggs, fried on the stove. Delicious.We flew from Oslo to Dublin and stayed a night at the most luxurious (but only 50€ a night!) hotel. After lice-infested hostels and sleeping on trains, trying to beat away drunks, it was quite a treat to have our own bathroom, beds, and tv - all immaculately clean. We also got a beautiful free breakfast there of several different kinds of breads, croissants, berry and orange juice, bacon, sausage, eggs, cereal, cheese, jams, and coffee drinks from a state of the art espresso machine. Needless to say, we were in heaven.
The next day we took a tour of the Guinness factory in Dublin, which was very educational.
Along with the tour you got a huge free pint of Guinness at the very top of the building, a round glass room overlooking the entire city.That afternoon we hopped a bus to Belfast and are now staying with Sarah's friends. So far, I love Ireland! I have never so appreciated the English language more than I do today - after several weeks of hearing nothing but French, Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish, I feel quite at home here.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
This is just like Santa's workshop, except it smells like mushrooms and everyone looks like they want to hurt me
I wrote this on the train from Oslo to Trondheim, where we are now. In a couple hours we're going to take the train to the village of Levanger, where my great-grandma was from:
We're on our way to Trondheim after a nice night in Oslo, according to a gentleman of Sarah's acquaintance, "the most expensive city in the world" (keep in mind that this is a man who took his nine-year-old daughter 900 miles north of the Arctic Circle to observe polar bears).
We had a small $16 pizza for dinner and as we were eating our $6 7-11 ice cream bars in the park, we were approached by some locals. After saying hi, they proceeded (out of nowhere and with absolutely no provocation) to tell us how much they hate America and how stupid they think all Americans are. I hate the fact that part of our introduction to Norway was tainted by these assholes, especially since unlike them, I don't believe that everyone who lives in a country has the same opinion. I don't want to think that these people hate me without knowing me - based not on any personal morals or beliefs, but simply upon my physical habitat. After less than two minutes, we just got up and left. It's pointless to argue, or even try to talk to people like that. Sarah was in tears, and I was inwardly furious, but also surprised. I've never met another person of that guy's age (he was probably in his 20's) who would close-mindedly believe that a nation's government reflects 100% of its population. Sure, little kids might think so, but I don't know of anyone over the age of 18 or so who is so naive. For instance, are we to assume that all Germans during WWII were Nazis? I've never thought so, and I doubt many would think that was the case.
As we walked down by the harbor, still shocked an angered over an encounter that seemed to manifest the simmering sentiment we had been feeling from locals the entire trip, we discussed how America helped Norway during WWII. Homeboy didn't know his history very well, it appears. As if in answer to our questions, half-an-hour later we came upon a large statue of FDR, seated Lincoln-like, over looking the docks.
"Lincoln!" I cried at first. Then, reading the pedestal, "Roosevelt!"
"We love Roosevelt," came a voice from the wall next to the statue, where we could just make out two boys and a girl in the 10pm dusk. The speaker introduced himself as David, an 18-year-old medical student, originally from Gambia. When Sarah told him about our earlier encounter, he apologized and assured us that they love Americans. His friendliness was coincidentally timed - the perfect anecdote to thinking everyone in Oslo hates us.
We're on our way to Trondheim after a nice night in Oslo, according to a gentleman of Sarah's acquaintance, "the most expensive city in the world" (keep in mind that this is a man who took his nine-year-old daughter 900 miles north of the Arctic Circle to observe polar bears).
We had a small $16 pizza for dinner and as we were eating our $6 7-11 ice cream bars in the park, we were approached by some locals. After saying hi, they proceeded (out of nowhere and with absolutely no provocation) to tell us how much they hate America and how stupid they think all Americans are. I hate the fact that part of our introduction to Norway was tainted by these assholes, especially since unlike them, I don't believe that everyone who lives in a country has the same opinion. I don't want to think that these people hate me without knowing me - based not on any personal morals or beliefs, but simply upon my physical habitat. After less than two minutes, we just got up and left. It's pointless to argue, or even try to talk to people like that. Sarah was in tears, and I was inwardly furious, but also surprised. I've never met another person of that guy's age (he was probably in his 20's) who would close-mindedly believe that a nation's government reflects 100% of its population. Sure, little kids might think so, but I don't know of anyone over the age of 18 or so who is so naive. For instance, are we to assume that all Germans during WWII were Nazis? I've never thought so, and I doubt many would think that was the case.
As we walked down by the harbor, still shocked an angered over an encounter that seemed to manifest the simmering sentiment we had been feeling from locals the entire trip, we discussed how America helped Norway during WWII. Homeboy didn't know his history very well, it appears. As if in answer to our questions, half-an-hour later we came upon a large statue of FDR, seated Lincoln-like, over looking the docks.
"Lincoln!" I cried at first. Then, reading the pedestal, "Roosevelt!"
"We love Roosevelt," came a voice from the wall next to the statue, where we could just make out two boys and a girl in the 10pm dusk. The speaker introduced himself as David, an 18-year-old medical student, originally from Gambia. When Sarah told him about our earlier encounter, he apologized and assured us that they love Americans. His friendliness was coincidentally timed - the perfect anecdote to thinking everyone in Oslo hates us.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Ja, Ve Elsker Dette Landet
I'm sitting at Oslo's "Sentralstation" (train station) drinking espresso and eating a sweet waffle with Norwegian brown cheese. The cheese tastes a little like toffee - sounds gross, but it's not that bad, especially with the waffle. I think I remember Rick Steves (travel guru, for those of you who don't know him) saying it's from a goat, but I could be wrong.
A night on the clean cozy railroad sleeper was a welcome change from the hostel of the previous night (and cheaper and more time efficient too!). We roomed with some crazy New Zealanders who had been on the rails for months, traveling the trans-Mongolian and trans-Siberian railroads across China and Russia.
After my last entry, I feel the need to give Denmark some credit. It redeemed itself the next day when we went to visit Sarah's ancestrial town of Nyborg (pronounced "Noo-bohg"). The sun finally came out as we picked wildflowers and walked around the home of her great-great-grandfather, Søren Danielsen. We couldn't find his grave in the local cemetary, but Sarah "Stickyfingers" Shotwell stole a souvenir hymnal from the church they used to frequent.
Back in Copenhagen (or København, as they spell it), we had to go see the little mermaid statue, which is really beautiful in person (she is, like, sooo much hotter than Mona Lisa). And what better place to soak up local culture than a visit to Copenhagen's Hard Rock Cafe? I didn't know how much I missed being able to order without guessing and not paying for the restrooms until we sat down and ordered a huge meal of good old American crap. As Madonna sang "And I feel like I just got home" we munched our way through a hamburger, chicken strips, fries, and a salad (the last three were all mine...). After what seemed like weeks of consisting on baguettes, croissants, and the occasional apple, it was nice to have a square meal. Miraculously, our meal came out to 310 kroner, EXACTLY the amount of cash we had between us, down to the cent. We hadn't ordered with this in mind or anything. It was quite a coincidence. From there we caught our night train.
After a night in Oslo, we're planning to travel by train to Trondheim - near the village my great-grandma Dina was supposedly from (Levanger), spend a night in Trondheim, then fly out of Oslo to Dublin...or something like that.
I find it so amusing that my grandmother was always so fiercely proud of Norway, even though she had never even been here. For some reason, that transfered to me, and as the first generation to set foot on this soil since my great-grandma left in the 1890's or early 1900's, I hope that will remain after I've seen this country.
A night on the clean cozy railroad sleeper was a welcome change from the hostel of the previous night (and cheaper and more time efficient too!). We roomed with some crazy New Zealanders who had been on the rails for months, traveling the trans-Mongolian and trans-Siberian railroads across China and Russia.
After my last entry, I feel the need to give Denmark some credit. It redeemed itself the next day when we went to visit Sarah's ancestrial town of Nyborg (pronounced "Noo-bohg"). The sun finally came out as we picked wildflowers and walked around the home of her great-great-grandfather, Søren Danielsen. We couldn't find his grave in the local cemetary, but Sarah "Stickyfingers" Shotwell stole a souvenir hymnal from the church they used to frequent.
Back in Copenhagen (or København, as they spell it), we had to go see the little mermaid statue, which is really beautiful in person (she is, like, sooo much hotter than Mona Lisa). And what better place to soak up local culture than a visit to Copenhagen's Hard Rock Cafe? I didn't know how much I missed being able to order without guessing and not paying for the restrooms until we sat down and ordered a huge meal of good old American crap. As Madonna sang "And I feel like I just got home" we munched our way through a hamburger, chicken strips, fries, and a salad (the last three were all mine...). After what seemed like weeks of consisting on baguettes, croissants, and the occasional apple, it was nice to have a square meal. Miraculously, our meal came out to 310 kroner, EXACTLY the amount of cash we had between us, down to the cent. We hadn't ordered with this in mind or anything. It was quite a coincidence. From there we caught our night train.
After a night in Oslo, we're planning to travel by train to Trondheim - near the village my great-grandma Dina was supposedly from (Levanger), spend a night in Trondheim, then fly out of Oslo to Dublin...or something like that.
I find it so amusing that my grandmother was always so fiercely proud of Norway, even though she had never even been here. For some reason, that transfered to me, and as the first generation to set foot on this soil since my great-grandma left in the 1890's or early 1900's, I hope that will remain after I've seen this country.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)