Dear loyal readers,
Now that I'm back in Canada, one more post to close it all up, I insist!
Ah, finances to be sorted, books to read, life to live. September still feels like a new year.
Must record details before they're run over by everyday occurrences here in Toronto.
After Paris we realized with some panic that our trip was drawing to a close. With fewer and fewer days left in each place, there was a slight sense of urgency to do more and see more. At the same time I also became more into going to bed early. I suppose I was tired. But I didn't want the flight back to Toronto to be the last one!
In Dublin we stayed for two nights with my cousins Tony and Sarah. Tony and Sarah and their siblings Carole and Christine were about as close to we got as kids to our Irish family -- they visited once for Christmas here in Canada when we were small, my family lived near theirs in the Donegal countryside in 1996-1997. Now we're all grown up and see each other every five years or so, and do things like eat fajitas and get a little drunk at pubs together instead of rolling around in the snow or playing Nintendo.
We went to a pub that apparently James Joyce frequented, an old man's pub, in my opinion the best kind (no music, only conversation), with Tony one night, and talked about his travels as well. He said that he thinks three and a half weeks is possibly the worst amount of time to allot for a vacation -- considerably more than a few days away for a quiet lounging holiday, but not nearly enough to fulfill what ends up becoming a desire to actually live away from home for a while, to continue moving about and chatting to people and figuring out maps and transit systems.
Speaking of James Joyce, Myles finished Finnegans Wake while in Dublin, and I'm very proud. I don't know if anyone's read it. Okay, I know someone must have, but he earned respect from a few passers-by who caught a glimpse of the task at hand.
People are always doing fun things in London! Like watching cricket on big screens in parks. We had trouble finding the nightlife on the Friday night, but on Saturday hung about in Camden area where the young people seemed to go. And we saw extremely angry drunk people. One average-sized intoxicated man tried to take on three bouncers ("I'll slit your throat! I will cut you!"); I saw a girl slap her boyfriend, a couple of people threaten to kill each other if provoked, etc.
In Cork we stayed in a hotel and caught up on sleep and went to a town called Cobh where we had a pint in another old man's pub where they talked about (Euro) football the whole time. We were depressed about seeing US chains everywhere in other towns so in Cobh we walked until it ended and found countryside, climbed up a hill and lay in the grass. Watched the cows. Read. As we left to go back into town we realized that we had been lying near a golf course. But it was still as far in the countryside as we'd been the whole trip. The river in Cork runs quickly.
Then a bus to Dublin and in Dublin we visited the Guinness storehouse, which holds a new swanky museum all about Guinness. We drank a pint in a bar at the top, which has a 360-degree view of Dublin (a city that, according to Myles, "looks like it was built by sad people"), and has displayed everywhere quotes from Joyce's works. We then took a train again to another small town called Howth, a fishing town, and dipped our feet in the freezing sea, and because we needed to get back to Dublin in time for dinner with cousins, got back on the train an hour later.
And now I'm in a café in Toronto, to start what feels like the new year.
Whoever read to the end gets golden star point special hugs.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
And...Paris!
So much card-playing and wine-drinking. Spent a day in Milan's airport drinking espresso and wine and playing Rummy (currently, Myles is winning nine games to my three. He wins at everything!). We spent our second day in Paris doing the same thing, because it was thirty-five degrees out and humid. Hotter than anywhere we'd been! Or the least breezy, or something. But we stayed in the little top-floor apartment on Place Ste. Opportune and waited until evening.
We stayed at my friend Joce's place in aforementioned little apartment, central to everything -- to get there we had to arrive at the metro stop Chatelet les Halles, which we later learned to be the biggest metro station in the world. Joce was my first boyfriend. He seems like a very happy person. He gave us wine and cheese when we arrived. It was really nice.
Suddenly my time is up at this internet place and I must check out markets and parks and books. Currently staying in London at a cute hostel above an Irish pub. It only sells Thai food (we get 10% off).
Love!
We stayed at my friend Joce's place in aforementioned little apartment, central to everything -- to get there we had to arrive at the metro stop Chatelet les Halles, which we later learned to be the biggest metro station in the world. Joce was my first boyfriend. He seems like a very happy person. He gave us wine and cheese when we arrived. It was really nice.
Suddenly my time is up at this internet place and I must check out markets and parks and books. Currently staying in London at a cute hostel above an Irish pub. It only sells Thai food (we get 10% off).
Love!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Europe: In review
Top five things to mention that came into my head as I started writing:
1. A few companies are quickly taking over the world: namely, there are lots of bars, not especially in Sarajevo, that will only serve Heineken. More horrifyingly, in everywhere we've been North American style coffee is referred to as "Nescafe," and that's not just a name. Coffee shops will often have jars of Nescafe in view for their tourist customers, and the company Nescafe advertises on bus stops. You lose, Folgers.
2. There's more or less never any time to do anything. Every morning is spent catching up on sleep and every night is spent staying up too late. This is the schedule I would prefer for my non-vacationing life as well.
3. I'm not sure how the French economy works. Paris right now is more or less dead; 3/5ths of the shops are closed for summer vacation. It also seems like even in normal times nobody works, or at least not particularly hard. How and when are they creating all their gross national product?
4. In Eastern Europe and technically Asia, at least, there are many appliances that are so space and energy efficient that it makes me really annoyed. For instance, many bathrooms are also showers in that they have sinks in the floor instead of whole other areas for showering. Furthermore, in Turkey the laundry machines doubled as dryers - the NA dryer industry is working hard to keep you from knowing.
5. European countries have a lot more faith in people to not get themselves killed through their own stupidity. I think Gilleen mentioned this.
Fun Travel Trips:
1. If someone really polite is hosting you, a fun thing to do is to remark to nobody in particular: "I'm so hungry! What kind of a host doesn't feed his guests?"
2. If you speak English and someone doesn't understand, you're probably just not speaking loud enough. Try yelling the same words (in English of course, because it's the universal language).
3. If you're in France and a homeless guy has a sign that says "j'ai faim," you feel good about yourself because yay! You're finally getting to use your fourth grade French!
4. There's nothing Muslim strangers like more than surprise back massages!
Things that are true about downtown Paris:
1. Most stereotypes. The bakeries are wonderful, the waitstaff are surly, and the streets are cobbled, narrow, and not confined by bourgouis conceits like compass directions and intersections.
Peoplewise:
Best looking city: Athens
Worst looking city: Sarajevo
Otherwise:
Best looking city: New York - sorry, Europe!
Worst looking city: Athens - except for 3,000 years ago, natch.
Things I do not miss about home:
1. Our awful, awful subway system.
2. Gilleen, of course, because she's right here.
Things I do miss about home:
1. Actual multiculturalism.
2. Going a whole day without being in a public place that smells like urine.
3. My friends.
4. Knowing where I'm going, as opposed to just thinking I know where I'm going and second-guessing myself and getting frustrated.
Well, that's my European roundup for now. Check in later to find what area would make the best place to play hide-and-seek ever!
Or I could just tell you. It's Dubrovnik's old city.
- Myles
1. A few companies are quickly taking over the world: namely, there are lots of bars, not especially in Sarajevo, that will only serve Heineken. More horrifyingly, in everywhere we've been North American style coffee is referred to as "Nescafe," and that's not just a name. Coffee shops will often have jars of Nescafe in view for their tourist customers, and the company Nescafe advertises on bus stops. You lose, Folgers.
2. There's more or less never any time to do anything. Every morning is spent catching up on sleep and every night is spent staying up too late. This is the schedule I would prefer for my non-vacationing life as well.
3. I'm not sure how the French economy works. Paris right now is more or less dead; 3/5ths of the shops are closed for summer vacation. It also seems like even in normal times nobody works, or at least not particularly hard. How and when are they creating all their gross national product?
4. In Eastern Europe and technically Asia, at least, there are many appliances that are so space and energy efficient that it makes me really annoyed. For instance, many bathrooms are also showers in that they have sinks in the floor instead of whole other areas for showering. Furthermore, in Turkey the laundry machines doubled as dryers - the NA dryer industry is working hard to keep you from knowing.
5. European countries have a lot more faith in people to not get themselves killed through their own stupidity. I think Gilleen mentioned this.
Fun Travel Trips:
1. If someone really polite is hosting you, a fun thing to do is to remark to nobody in particular: "I'm so hungry! What kind of a host doesn't feed his guests?"
2. If you speak English and someone doesn't understand, you're probably just not speaking loud enough. Try yelling the same words (in English of course, because it's the universal language).
3. If you're in France and a homeless guy has a sign that says "j'ai faim," you feel good about yourself because yay! You're finally getting to use your fourth grade French!
4. There's nothing Muslim strangers like more than surprise back massages!
Things that are true about downtown Paris:
1. Most stereotypes. The bakeries are wonderful, the waitstaff are surly, and the streets are cobbled, narrow, and not confined by bourgouis conceits like compass directions and intersections.
Peoplewise:
Best looking city: Athens
Worst looking city: Sarajevo
Otherwise:
Best looking city: New York - sorry, Europe!
Worst looking city: Athens - except for 3,000 years ago, natch.
Things I do not miss about home:
1. Our awful, awful subway system.
2. Gilleen, of course, because she's right here.
Things I do miss about home:
1. Actual multiculturalism.
2. Going a whole day without being in a public place that smells like urine.
3. My friends.
4. Knowing where I'm going, as opposed to just thinking I know where I'm going and second-guessing myself and getting frustrated.
Well, that's my European roundup for now. Check in later to find what area would make the best place to play hide-and-seek ever!
Or I could just tell you. It's Dubrovnik's old city.
- Myles
Saturday, August 15, 2009
OMG guys, Athina!
We just spent two hours looking for a hotel that was a five minute walk away from where we were originally! Plan for Athens: tonight, food and beer. Tomorrow, Acropolis and swimming. And from now on we travel only west. Kind of too bad the really different part is over.
Some things on which I probably won't end up elaborating too much:
Stray cats everywhere (Sarajevo and Istanbul; people are too comfortable with acting violently towards them it seems)
Minibuses (pseudo-legit alternative public transportation system in Istanbul)
Calls to prayer; Good Muslim Families
Evidence of a general confidence in individuals to avoid hurting themselves (ridiculously short balcony ledges and walls/fences of all kinds, uncomfortably little space left in between rushing pedestrians and speeding motorists -- accompanied by the lack of clear pedestrian lights or crossways at a number of major intersections, doors on buses slowly closing after the vehicle is already travelling at fifty kilometres per hour)
Raki alcohol with liquorice taste, served with spreads of fruit and cheese
Oh! Speaking of food, of course all Turkish appetizers, and pie (expecting more of this in Greece)
Swimming in Mediterranean warm salty water in front of rows of beach-side café lounge chairs
Myles picking up a block of butter with his hands and trying to slice it because he thought it was cheese
Some things on which I probably won't end up elaborating too much:
Stray cats everywhere (Sarajevo and Istanbul; people are too comfortable with acting violently towards them it seems)
Minibuses (pseudo-legit alternative public transportation system in Istanbul)
Calls to prayer; Good Muslim Families
Evidence of a general confidence in individuals to avoid hurting themselves (ridiculously short balcony ledges and walls/fences of all kinds, uncomfortably little space left in between rushing pedestrians and speeding motorists -- accompanied by the lack of clear pedestrian lights or crossways at a number of major intersections, doors on buses slowly closing after the vehicle is already travelling at fifty kilometres per hour)
Raki alcohol with liquorice taste, served with spreads of fruit and cheese
Oh! Speaking of food, of course all Turkish appetizers, and pie (expecting more of this in Greece)
Swimming in Mediterranean warm salty water in front of rows of beach-side café lounge chairs
Myles picking up a block of butter with his hands and trying to slice it because he thought it was cheese
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Istanbul is a hit
We stayed in Budget Hostel for the first night. At first nervous about the lack of air conditioning, the giant window in our room leading out to the fire escape that connected us with all the other rooms, and the moth balls that were everywhere, it ended up being just fine. One beer and a game of cards on the terrace before bed turned into staying up with a film-making, theatre-trouping couple from Warsaw playing hearts until 4 in the morning.
Then, the next day, even though we had at first miscommunicated with him, we met up with Salih, who so far has turned out to be the best Asian-side-of-Istanbul-living, dinner-making, English-practicing host ever! Through a hilariously complicated series of public transit methods (initial directions: It's easy. Take a ferry, then a bus. Realıty: mistake one ferry stop, find the right one, cross the Bosphorus, search a gigantic bus station in earnest for half an hour before finding a city bus that may go to our destination, spend forty-five minutes in traffic nervously asking fellow passengers if we're still on the right path, eventually get off the bus, ask a few local youths where our street is, get led by friendly local youths to the correct apartment building, meet Salih who tells us he's just after locking himself out of his apartment, smile politely at Salih's neighbours while one forces the lock open with a credit card), we arrived at our temporary home, and now we are pretending to be just a couple of foreigners living the normal life in Istanbul (except for all the touristing, of course).
Then, the next day, even though we had at first miscommunicated with him, we met up with Salih, who so far has turned out to be the best Asian-side-of-Istanbul-living, dinner-making, English-practicing host ever! Through a hilariously complicated series of public transit methods (initial directions: It's easy. Take a ferry, then a bus. Realıty: mistake one ferry stop, find the right one, cross the Bosphorus, search a gigantic bus station in earnest for half an hour before finding a city bus that may go to our destination, spend forty-five minutes in traffic nervously asking fellow passengers if we're still on the right path, eventually get off the bus, ask a few local youths where our street is, get led by friendly local youths to the correct apartment building, meet Salih who tells us he's just after locking himself out of his apartment, smile politely at Salih's neighbours while one forces the lock open with a credit card), we arrived at our temporary home, and now we are pretending to be just a couple of foreigners living the normal life in Istanbul (except for all the touristing, of course).
Wowzers
Information overload in my head. I'm back with popular demand.
First, for my mom, Dublin. Didn't mention it in the last post but it was a nice half-day in the city. Went to Bewley's for breakfast like you suggested, even though it was about three in the morning in our minds and neither of us was very hungry. Then some walking down Grafton Street to the St. Stephen's park where we read and nodded off intermittently. It was in Dublin that I also discovered that I brought the wrong type of cell phone (because of my laziness I didn't research it properly), so I am uncontactable except by email. Hear that, everyone? No getting in car crashes or succumbıng to H1N1 while I'm gone.
Sarajevo was thoroughly an enjoyable few days. Eating too much greasy cheese and potato pie and drinking too much local liquor with friends on a balcony overlooking a dozen similarly depressing apartment high-rises was all I expected it to be, and I expected it to be great. The new city is fairly depressing because of its architechure (mostly grey -- now with some colours, to be fair --, minimalist, dirty) but of course also because of the remnants of the war that ended a short number of years ago (everywhere pock-marked buildings and sidewalks from mortar shells and bullets, memorials to dead children, a noticeable absence of people in their early twenties who tend to leave the city, the influx of people who were refugees from rural areas of Bosnia-Herzegovina who decided that life is better in Sarajevo).
Alex showed us the neighbourhood where his family lived until the 90s. I like to see where friends come from. We traipsed all through the old town together. When Alex and Nikki left, Myles and I climbed up one of the many hills surrounding downtown Sarajevo, looked around at the houses where middle- to upper-middle-class people live, looked at some cemetaries, and climbed back down again.
Alex's great-aunt and great-uncle hosted us on our last night even though Alex and Nikki were no longer there ("Where were you going to sleep? Out on the street?"). We were fed second-dinners and snacks and breakfasts and coffees and so on (other generous displays of hospitality).
We thought we didn't have a place to stay in Istanbul because of a miscommunication with our couchsurfing host, so we reserved a room in a hostel at the last minute. What happened to us then, you can't help but wonder? If you are reading this blog chronologically, read on to find out! If you aren't, then, er, you already know.
First, for my mom, Dublin. Didn't mention it in the last post but it was a nice half-day in the city. Went to Bewley's for breakfast like you suggested, even though it was about three in the morning in our minds and neither of us was very hungry. Then some walking down Grafton Street to the St. Stephen's park where we read and nodded off intermittently. It was in Dublin that I also discovered that I brought the wrong type of cell phone (because of my laziness I didn't research it properly), so I am uncontactable except by email. Hear that, everyone? No getting in car crashes or succumbıng to H1N1 while I'm gone.
Sarajevo was thoroughly an enjoyable few days. Eating too much greasy cheese and potato pie and drinking too much local liquor with friends on a balcony overlooking a dozen similarly depressing apartment high-rises was all I expected it to be, and I expected it to be great. The new city is fairly depressing because of its architechure (mostly grey -- now with some colours, to be fair --, minimalist, dirty) but of course also because of the remnants of the war that ended a short number of years ago (everywhere pock-marked buildings and sidewalks from mortar shells and bullets, memorials to dead children, a noticeable absence of people in their early twenties who tend to leave the city, the influx of people who were refugees from rural areas of Bosnia-Herzegovina who decided that life is better in Sarajevo).
Alex showed us the neighbourhood where his family lived until the 90s. I like to see where friends come from. We traipsed all through the old town together. When Alex and Nikki left, Myles and I climbed up one of the many hills surrounding downtown Sarajevo, looked around at the houses where middle- to upper-middle-class people live, looked at some cemetaries, and climbed back down again.
Alex's great-aunt and great-uncle hosted us on our last night even though Alex and Nikki were no longer there ("Where were you going to sleep? Out on the street?"). We were fed second-dinners and snacks and breakfasts and coffees and so on (other generous displays of hospitality).
We thought we didn't have a place to stay in Istanbul because of a miscommunication with our couchsurfing host, so we reserved a room in a hostel at the last minute. What happened to us then, you can't help but wonder? If you are reading this blog chronologically, read on to find out! If you aren't, then, er, you already know.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
B&H
Arrived early this afternoon in Sarajevo, approximately on time, at the right bus station, to find Alex and Nikki waiting for us, as planned a bunch of weeks ago. I didn't think it was particularly unlikely that things would go well, but I'm still happily surprised that planes were on time, we got to our guesthouse in Dubrovnik, Croatia in one piece, woke up in time the next morning, that there was in fact a bus to Sarajevo, and that we caught it.
I feel that if I write it down I'll do a better job of remembering one evening in Dubrovnik (swarming Euro-tourist town with an ancient, walled castle city as an old town), our stopover on the way to Bosnia-Herzegovina. The guesthouse was run by a woman in her late thirties, a really hospitable person who woke us up at seven this morning and served us sludgy coffee, grenadine water, and cornflakes. The view was of the port and small mountains, the sea. A few islands. Croatia was similar to the south of France. There were construction projects everywhere, not just hotels but what looked to be local houses as well.
We can watch Al Jazeera here and I don't think I'd even seen a mosque (irl) until today. We are staying at Alex's uncle's friend's apartment in a large apartment block.
I feel that if I write it down I'll do a better job of remembering one evening in Dubrovnik (swarming Euro-tourist town with an ancient, walled castle city as an old town), our stopover on the way to Bosnia-Herzegovina. The guesthouse was run by a woman in her late thirties, a really hospitable person who woke us up at seven this morning and served us sludgy coffee, grenadine water, and cornflakes. The view was of the port and small mountains, the sea. A few islands. Croatia was similar to the south of France. There were construction projects everywhere, not just hotels but what looked to be local houses as well.
We can watch Al Jazeera here and I don't think I'd even seen a mosque (irl) until today. We are staying at Alex's uncle's friend's apartment in a large apartment block.
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