Monthly Archives: June 2012

We Lit the Fire

Posted on by
Reply
Share Button

Travel Journal Excerpt: Currently sitting in Au Rond Point, with a glass of red wine and awaiting a plate of fromage(assorted cheeses). Oh yes, and escargot.

.

We arrived at Gare de Lyon this afternoon and(after scrambling around a bit searching for internet to rediscover the hotel we’d booked..) we took the metro to Gare de l’est. Our exit led us straight to our destination, the Amiot Hotel. We were getting situated and all that, and I had these lyrics in my head that I kept singing, “We want the world and we want it now.”

.

Bailey discovered that Jim Morrison’s grave was close by, and I said let’s go.

.

It wasn’t until we were in the cemetery that I realized I’d been singing the Doors(When the Music’s Over).

.

A few others were there when we found it, the Light My Fire in red stood out on the side of the grave in front(I don’t know if it’s PC to call them ‘graves’..?) A girl asked me for a light, but I didn’t have one. Someone did, and she had this lit white candle.

.

I asked if she wanted to put it on the grave, and she said “I want to, but I can’t climb over the fence.”

.

“I can.” My legs are so long I hardly had to try, but I was over, and I took the candle over to his grave, but there was no where to stand it. I started gathering rocks nearby to create something, and another girl joined me and dripped some wax on the grave to help stick it there, and then another joined, and together we made it work. It was beautiful.

.

The escargot surprised me with how much I actually enjoyed it. I didn’t even cringe. Maybe it was just really good escargot, but I think I prefer it to oysters and clams. The cheese was not bad either. I was watching the Denmark/Portugal match(Portugal won 3-2), like most of the people there, while the American girls sitting behind us discussed sex and orgasms loud enough for anyone in surrounding-table vicinity to clearly hear. It was as if they didn’t think anyone could understand English, but the objective was probably directed at the Frenchmen who –could- understand English, and wanted some blond loud sex girl to take home. No takers, the men just wanted to watch football. Perhaps the amount the girls inserted the word ‘like’ into a sentence made the very detailed conversation a little less explicit for someone who’s first language isn’t English. Lucky them.

.

The conversation went on the entire time we were eating.

.

We caught the metro back to the hotel, as it was raining. (We can see the Eiffel Tower from our room!)

.

Later we went out for crepes and grog(mulled wine…not my favorite, I discovered). I had a nutella-banana crepe, naturally, and Bailey had a honey crepe(also, naturally). They were delicious, and to accompany them – football! The Netherlands/Germany match(Germany won 2-1).

Bern After Reading

Posted on by
Reply
Share Button

A friend I met in Death Valley two summers ago(while road-tripping along I-10 West, then back East…perhaps a different story…) met us at the station in Bern. We dropped our bags off and went out to a bar for sandwiches and beer. One thing we learned this night, was that here in Bern you don’t say “Danke,” you say “Merci” because there’s a town pretty near where they speak Francais(swirly thing below the ‘c’!). First, though, we had to get Swiss-Franks out, Euros don’t help too much here. And it’s true, what they say, about how Switzerland is expensive. It is.

.

The next morning we awoke and walked all over town, from the Parliament building(great view from there) to the Barengraben(bear pit…the ‘a’ is supposed to have two little dots over it…), where we ate delicious traditional style Swiss meals(mine was like cheesy hash browns with bacon and apple-puree) and drank Marzen(again—two little dots above the ‘a’!) – beer that was sehr gute. The city Bern was actually named after the bear, as it was the first animal the people who came here saw. And now, you’ll see symbol of the bear everywhere in town.

.

By request of Bailey and I, we walked by the statue of the giant eating a baby. We were curious, of course, when we read about it in this huge book of Europe Bailey’s been carrying around. It was as strange in real life(in the middle of the street) as it sounds in text.

.

We went back to the apartment to catch the Greece/Czech Republic game, the Euro cup is going on right now – it’s a big deal. Czech won 2-1.

.

We went out for doner(two dots above the ‘o’!) and caught some of the Poland/Russia game – the tension between the opposing fans was fierce, check it out:

.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/euro2012/article-2158765/Euro-2012-UEFA-fine-Russia-FA-fans-violence-opening-match-Poland.html

.

After eating, we walked to the Reitschule, an underground totally graffiti’d bar with a few other things including a women’s only club, a cinema, and a really f*ked up bar, apparently. It’s right by the train station. Reminded me of Tacheles in Berlin, but this isn’t as huge nor has it gotten as much publicity(at least its not streaming with tourists during the day time), but people live at the Reitschule, too, at the top. We got a beer from the main inside part, and then went off to a side room. The Poland/Russia match was on. By this point, I wasn’t surprised, and I was actually interested. It’s cool how the various nationalities come together in this sport, and how much belief is invested. The match ended(1-1) and we headed back.

.

At this point, we realized how late we waited in finding hostels in Paris. We scrounged the internet and found nothing. It wasn’t till morning we booked our hotel for the night—finding a roof last minute sucks, we’d been spoiled by having such friends abroad to let us stay with them so much. But we got a place booked, and headed to the station, where I spent my remaining Swiss-Franks on donuts and a cheese sandwich.

I miss Berlin

Posted on by
Reply
Share Button

No, I’ve been having a great time catching trains and traveling to a city I’ve never been to every three days. But still, there’s something about Berlin that isn’t anywhere else. Maybe its something to do with the efficiency…East/West differences, the artistic attraction or the history the city holds. I don’t know, a “gestalt”, if you will.

.

Anyway, here’s a link to the final project from my two weeks there:

.

http://www.jou.ufl.edu/people/faculty/jfreeman/Berlin2012/Rachel-J-publish_to_web/index.html

Castles, Giants, and Bern– Oh my!

Posted on by
Reply
Share Button

Excerpt from travel journal:

.

11/6/2012

.

On the train from Milano to Bern, with Bailey this time!!

.

We just passed a castle across a lake! Mountains all around us, going through a tunnel right now actually(so above us, too..) Its so green here.

.

Loons, Bailey said. They might be here. They’re distinct — long and oily, sit very low in the water – white and black bill – very long and straight. Also, swans. They’ll be here.

.

Out of the tunnel. A teal crane! Brighter than Venice canal water, for sure. And a green one! Wow, and to think all I see back home are plane old golden yellow.

.

Man(another tunnel). And it smells…horrid. Bailey and I decided it’s the giant’s septic system.

 

Oops..

Posted on by
Reply
Share Button

Excerpts from travel journal:

.

11/6/2012

.

Well, I’ve lost Bailey. I went to get a pastry and she went to check the platform number. We said we’d meet back by one of those posts in front of the train station. When I returned, she wasn’t there, though her checking the platform shouldn’t have taken as long as my getting the pastry. I waited a bit, but the train was to leave from Venice to Milano in six minutes time. I didn’t see her.

.

I went inside and found the listing of the trains and departures. Milano — 11:50 — Platform 4. Alright, so maybe she’s at platform 4. She misinterpreted me and is standing in front of a post in front of the train. Nope. Four minutes.

.

I look quickly, I walk more quickly back out, thinking about shouting “Bailey,” but the steps of the station were crowded with people and I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself. Two minutes.

.

I rush back in and the train is gone. My heart stops a second and I say “Oh my God” out loud. What if Bailey was on it? I look up — Oh, okay, that’s platform 6, my train is potentially still here.

.

I run over to platform 4 and it is. I hop into the first car and look out the window for Bailey. No sign. So I guessed she got on, too, realizing it was about to leave. We must’ve missed each other somewhere. I started walking down the aisles through the coaches, still looking. The train starts moving. Its leaving the station.

.

I arrive at the final door and it won’t open. Must be the front of the train. Bailey isn’t on it.

.

…

.

Bailey doesn’t have a cell phone, or even my cell phone number I don’t think. She doesn’t have a computer or way to access the internet either. All we’ve got is our plan to reach Milano, hang out a few hours, and then catch the 18:25 train to Bern, Switzerland.

.

Best case scenario, she’ll realize I’m not at the station and got on the train. She’ll catch the next train to Milano and I’ll be waiting for her at the station, where we’ll meet up again, go get something to eat, and make it back in plenty of time to catch the next train, together, to Switzerland.

.

…

.

And that’s what happened!

Sink, Venice, Sink

Posted on by
Share Button

First evening in Venice, I had four cheese gnocchi  for dinner and about three quarters of the way through, I decided I was done with pasta. We’d been in Italy for just about a week, and probably gained fifteen pounds each, and feeling my pockets’ tug at the euro as they left for more carbs prompted a trip to the grocery store for salad and cereal.  Of course, we still had pizza the past two days, but after our stop in Milano on our way to Switzerland tomorrow, it’ll be a long time before I see Italian food again. And I am okay with that.

 

Italy’s kind of like the Florida of Europe. Bright, hot, lots of people running around with cameras. Not my favorite place. I prefer the gray of Berlin or the purple of Prague to yellowing Italy.

 

Also, it’s kind of cruddy here. Yes, this city is sinking, but some narrow alleyways also stink. There’s no grass, but lots of dogs. This results in little piles of dog crap on the concrete. Hopefully, the alleyway is wide enough to easily skirt around it, and hopefully, a family of tourists isn’t blocking the sight of it before your shoe sinks in.

 

But despite the smell and the sinking, this place is really cool. I do love the twists and turns, the varying widths of the walkways, the bridges over teal water – it may take fifteen minutes longer to find a place because there’s no easy way to navigate by foot, but it keeps it interesting.

 

At night its great, no cameras, and quiet. You can actually maneuver through San Marco square. During the day, the empty alleys are cool, but the touristy areas are a bit overwhelming—too condensed.

 

Trees are rare, but perhaps to make up for it, everyone’s got plants hanging out of their windows. Colorful flowers to match the colorful clothes hang out there, too.

 

I’ve heard this city was supposed to be a romantic one, and I could see that during winter, maybe it’s less shabby-looking with less of a crowd, but maybe not.

 

In every city I’ve been to in Italy so far, men have stepped in front of me thrusting roses in my face, or the face of whatever guy is near me – not romantic at all, actually quite annoying. And they don’t understand what “No” means, either.

 

We went to the Dali museum, and I saw my favorite sculpture ever, that of Adam and Eve, the serpent and apple are there, too, of course. It’s quite sensual and alluring, pretty perfect. On the walls of the museum were Salvador Dali quotes, (an effectively confusing) one being, “What is important is to spread confusion, not eliminate it.”

 

My favorite was, “There are days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.”

 

“I do not understand why, when I ask for grilled lobster in a restaurant, I’m never served a cooked telephone.” Okay, so that one was too good to leave out, especially as I’ve been eating in a lot of restaurants.

 

We took a waterbus to the other islands, Murano, Burano, and Torchello. Torchello’s pretty nature-y, with a church, but the church was closed for restoration, so there really wasn’t much to do there. Except, it was totally worth going to, because we saw the wedding of the guy who we saw in a pink robe and bonnet the night before, who had obviously had a bit to drink, and ended up in a fountain, with a little help from his friends.

 

Murano had exquisite glass chandeliers, and other easily breakable pieces, non-ideal for travelers, or any transportation, really. Burano was wild—canals still running through it, but each house a different bright color than the next. Burano’s known for its lace.

 

We’ve been staying at VeniceGold, and the guy here recommended Peter Pan for cheap pizza. They also have kabobs and felafels, but we stuck with the pizza. It wasn’t Gusto Pizza, but it wasn’t bad. What we’re really happy with though, is the cereal Muesli Croccante– hazelnuts, chocolate, granola, and really tasty.

 

We started working out yesterday(pasta-pizza-pizza-pizza-pasta—you get the idea), and after tonight’s work out and some salad we celebrate with a Bueno bar for our last night in Italy. I kept hearing brief catches of Beatles songs while here, so I asked Bailey which song to play.  She said “something dramatic” just as I came across ‘Revolution’. We danced, and ate our chocolate.