Yo Yo...
So.. it's been a while, and I apologize for that. As you all may or may not know, I've been in Europe for 10 weeks on the trip of a lifetime, and unfortunately the blog just didn't make the cut. However, the good news is, I'm back, and I'm ready to fill the world in on my crazy mis-adventures.
Fortunately, I kept a pen-and-paper journal while I was overseas. The reason for this being that if I didn't write down what I did each day, I would easily forget a lot of what happened. This might seem dumb to you, but the truth is (as we often joked while we were there), that each day spent travelling Europe is more like 2 or 3 normal days crammed into 1, just because we did so much.
So.. what I'd like to do is "digitize" my journal, add pictures, and then post it online. However, while I'm still waiting on all the pics to be sorted and sent, I think I'll start in on getting everything typed out. Enjoy! (And I apologize for the fact that the entries are going to be in reverse chronological order. You're just going to have to scroll down and read up!)
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Monday, August 08, 2005
Eurotrip '05: The Journey Home
Mon, August 8, 2005
Day of days. The end of an era. Well, here I sit at 39,000 feet traveling at 574 miles per hour as I blast my way home to Newfoundland from our stop-over in Montreal Dorval (damn non-direct flights!) My trip has come to an end just as fast as it all began. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. But before the goodbyes are said and this chapter of my life closes, I still have my last 24 hours in Europe to describe – so here we go, one last time…
Steve and I arrived at Krista’s at around 11am on Sunday (as predicted) after a bit of a walk from Liverpool Street station – it was a nice morning, and we knew the area, so why not walk? (Plus the tube was down I believe :) . Once there we chilled out with the girls for a while and got cleaned up. Then we got ready and decided to hit the town. We headed to Hyde Park for a stroll around the gardens – a very cool spot. Then we headed on down to the river and Tower Bridge for some last photo ops. From here we were feeling a bit hungry, so we went to Wagamoma’s Japanese Restaurant just up from Tottingham Court Road tube stop – pretty frigging delicious! Once we had our fill of Asian cuisine we headed on down to ye olde booze shoppe to pick up our last Kronenburg 1664’s for a while.
We drank our booze in Krista’s room as we talked, laughed and reminisced about our incredible trip for most of the evening. We finally decided to get off our asses and go out at around 11pm, but it was Sunday, so naturally the pubs were closed! Thus, we headed on back to Krista’s and gladly finished off the remaining booze cache of Stella’s. We eventually passed out, but not before Steve and I had a ‘feats of strength’ wrestling match for the air mattress. I won, and slept like a baby. I don’t think Northcott minded too much… we were tanked up enough to comfortably pass out on the floor with a few blankets.
I was up very early today (Monday, the 8th) – couldn’t sleep for some reason, which has been the story of the last few days (or weeks, maybe). We got all of our shit together, including all the warm stuff we had dumped off with Krista back at the beginning of the trip. Who’d have thought I’d miss my hoody so much? We got ready to go and hit the tube at Russell Square at 11:30am. Said our goodbyes to Krista – that was kinda sad, but we knew we’d see her soon so that’s cool. From there we rode the Piccadilly line one last time westward to Heathrow and our flight home.
It’s currently 21:33 Eastern Standard Time, so that’s 02:33 to me! Blah! I’ve probably said this before on this trip: 13 hour travel days are for the birds. At least the boy and I got some free Sleamen Cream Ales out of the deal. Actually, we ate like friggin kings on the international flight to Montreal – 2 full meals, 2 snacks, and a ton of free beers – awesome! Though I think it’s hitting Ginny the wrong way. She was looking pretty sick for a while, tho she’s looking much better there now.
So yeah, we get in at 00:35 NL Time, or 04:00 to me – Bollocks!! Once I arrive, I’ve gotta get my pack and get down to Bri’s, so by the time I get to relax, I’ll have been up for about 24 hours. But whatever! I have the sneaking suspicion that I’ll be getting all the sleep I can handle in the very immanent future. I called Dad from Dorval… they’re coming out to the city Wednesday night. It looks like I’m gonna head on home with them on Thursday and hopefully hit Terra Nova for a round of golf on Friday as long as the weather holds up. Tomorrow is Ricketts’ birthday as well – and he’s leaving soon - so I’m sure we’re gonna be getting on the go this week.
But anyway…. EUROPE! AH!!! I miss you already! I miss your accents and your confusion I miss aggravations trumped by amusement and awe. I miss your adventure. Man, what a trip. If not for this full journal in front of me I think I’d have a much harder time convincing myself that this really happened. Hell, even with this journal it’s still a stretch!
Today marks 10 weeks to the day since I left home to travel overseas with some of my best friends. I faced some misfortune along the way, but it was massively and almost laughably overshadowed by the absolute beauty and diversity of the things I have experienced. If I could ever have the opportunity to do something like this again in my life, I would hold myself among the luckiest men alive. Truth is… I already do.
Pictures can’t do justice to what I’ve seen. Words can’t describe what I’ve felt. Stories can’t illustrate the characters I’ve met. But it’s all here in my mind, and with the aid of these pages I hope to hold on to these memories for the rest of my days.
I backpacked Europe. I lived my dream. It’s hard to truly grasp and appreciate a situation while you are essentially still in it. I’m sure the true magnitude of it all will really begin to materialize as I return home with my stories. It’s funny, because in some ways I think that’s one of the reasons why we choose venture out in the first place – just so we can come home again and tell people what we did. That, and of course much more importantly, we venture out because our experiences are what makes us the people we are. Our compassion, our ability to relate, and our understanding and appreciation of things older, greater and larger than ourselves – all these things grow, and you grow in turn. If nothing else, I am truly thankful to have been blessed with such an opportunity, and I appreciate my world all the more for it.
But anyway – I’m rambling…. Lack of sleep sometimes makes my writing suffer from mountain stream syndrome: focused, concise and to the point at first, but quickly becoming long, winding and rambling.
Bottom line – this was the best trip ever. I absolutely regret nothing – not one single moment of these 70 days.
Everyone keeps asking me what my favorite place on this trip was. That’s an incredibly tough question. I liken it to being asked who your favorite child is. Your answer would probably (hopefully) be that you love them all equally but for different reasons. Of course, some favorites exist for me on this trip – these aren’t kids we’re talking about, they’re destinations. So, in no particular order, here are some of my favorite places and why they made the favorites list:
- Gryon, Switzerland… The alps are truly a wonder of the world. Amazing.
- Glen Coe, Scotland… Absolutely gorgeous and awe inspiring.
- Edinburgh, Scotland… I just love that city. I don’t know if it’s the castle or the people, but I just love the vibe.
- Santorini, Greece… A fairytale tropical paradise. Unbelievable beauty (this was Ginny’s hands-down favorite)
- Zdar, Alicante and Valladolid… The hospitality of Vera, Laura, Arantxa, Aitur and all the other new friends made this trip for me. Good people are everywhere - they are living proof of this fact.
- Cliffs of Moher, Ireland… Pictures can’t capture how amazing the cliffs really are.
- Florence, Italy… From above, when the cars are gone, you can feel the renaissance and the history come back to the city.
- Berlin… Just because it has been through so much and has come so far. It’s an awesome city. If you go: Brewer’s Walking Tour all the way.
- London… It will always hold a special place in my heart. My first visited and first loved European city.
- Paris… What can I say? It’s the city of love. Hopeless romantics don’t stand a chance in a place as beautiful as this.
Ten seems like a good place to stop, so I will. But truthfully, every place we visited on this trip was awesome in its own way. I wouldn’t change a thing (except maybe to have enough time and money to stay over here longer!)
Well… my plane just began it’s decent into St. John’s so these are the dying moments of my journey - time to say goodbye.
The trip of all trips has been just that, and I’d do it all again right now in a heartbeat. I’m already looking forward to the day when I return to Europe and say:
I remember this place.
I had the time of my life here when I was 24.
Those were the days.
Reid
August 9, 2005
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Eurotrip '05: Galway & Gort
Sun, Aug 7, 2005 (Day 68)
My last full day in Europe - wow. What a bittersweet time. My plane just touched down at Stanstead Airport in London, coming from Shannon Airport in western Ireland. We had a stellar three days on the west coast!
Arrived into Galway on Thursday (Aug 4th) in the rain (seems vaguely familiar doesn't it? It's been raining since we left Spain. I think it's payback for the amazing weather we had). Checked into the Kinlay House youth hostel and stumbled around town in the precipitation for a few hours. Galway is actually a pretty small spot - especially considering where we've been. But because of that fact it is also very cool and unique - cobblestone roads and more pubs than I could count. Even in the pissing rain, it seemed you couldn't dampen the spirits of the locals who were out in the streets and drinking like it was George Street fest. We were going to fit in here :)
Back at the hostel we met our roomates for the next 2 days - Leigh & Clarie, a pair of Glascow natives.... fucking hilarious and crazy girls. Turns out they were completely loaded when they first met us (unknown to us), so at the time we thought they were extra nuts. We took it easy that night - still recovering from our escapades in Dublin mostly - but Leigh managed to do alright from what I could tell. Love that Jack and Coke!
The next day Northcott and I elected to take a bus tour of the region in order to see all that there was to see as easily as possible. We boarded our tour to the Burren - an absolutely amazing region of western Ireland. We visitied castles, the Ailewee caves (my first time in a cave - pretty freaky!), Blackhead, and of course the world famous Cliffs of Moher - which were worth the trip west in themselves - absolutely mindblowing! We took the majority of our photos there (for good reason).
Got back home to Galway around 7pm, baked up some chicken for supper (that was a treat), and started in on our St. Brendan's Beer (which was Dunne's Grocery Story Brand beer - think "no-name beer"). Met the 5th and final roomate - Devon - or "King Tubor" as he would later be affectionately dubbed (because he took his empty Tubor Beer box and wore it like a crown for most of the evening) . He was a middle-aged California surfer dude from Cork, Ireland. Go figure. I've said this before - The characters you meet in hostels are sometimes as much a sight to see as the places you visit. King Tubor was nuts man - what a crazy grin! He was a great laugh tho! He also brought along an American friend, Julia, and the 6 of us decided to get plastered together and hit the town for the evening.
Steve and I had great night pub hopping through the streets of Galway and dancing like fools with 4 new friends. The 6 of us ended closing down the last bar - "The living room" - goodtimes indeed. The next morning we attempted to book a 3rd night at Kinlay house (Saturday night), but they were all booked up. Upon reviewing the bus schedule to Shannon airport (where we had to catch our flight back to the UK on Sunday), we realized that our options were limited to the locations on the bus route - otherwise, we had no way of getting to the airport!
Hostel searching proved to be futile in Limmerick, Shannon & Ennis - everything was booked. Shite! However, there was a small beacon of hope for our endavours: GORT! (No, seriously, that's the name of the town. GORT). So, we booked the "Culture Club" hostel and were off to Gort on the 4pm bus after saying our goodbyes to the girls, breakfast with the King and Julia, and one last stroll through town & to the cathedral.
I should mention that while in our hostel in Dublin, some asshole in our room stole one of our Guinness pint glasses we bought from the factory for souveniers. Shitty hey? So while I was still in Ireland, I had to RE-steal a Guinness glass from the pub we had breakfast at to replace it. I say "re-steal" because I stole one last night while out drinking, but we forgot it in Julia's purse, and she lost it. Anyway, all was set right, cause now I've got the Guinness glass the King himself used at breakfast! If that isn't a souvenir, I don't know what is.
So, we headed on to Gort (which, I should add, we decided to turn into a multi-use word... like the Smurfs used to do with the word "smurf"). So we're on the bus, but we missed our gorting stop because the gorting bus driver didn't know his gort from a hole in the ground. We jumped off the gorting bus on the highway and walked back into town. Then we couldn't find the gorting hostel and we thought we were officially gorted. However, by the skin of our gort, we eventually found it. Thank Gort. However, we forgort to write down Krista Coates' number in London, so we had no way of contacting the girls to let them know when we were coming! (But that comes later in this gorting story).
We dropped the bags and wandered around the bustling metropolis of Gort, got some grub at a pub and took in the movie that was playing on the tv there. Mmmm.... tv. It was Dr. No or something... whatver Bond movie has the dude with the eyepatch. As it turns out, the very next day (Aug 8th) would be a very big day for the community - the annual "GORT SHOW". How classic is that? We cursed the fact that we had to miss it, but we had a plane to catch! I got a pic with the Gort Show sign all the same.
Up at 4:15am (or 1:45am newfoundland time - either way, ouch!) to catch our bus to Shannon Airport. It got slightly tense for a moment there, but we made it out without a hitch. That was this morning, and as we speak I'm sitting on a coach, blasting down the motorway towards London's Liverpool Street station. However, when we got off the flight, we had a little bit of difficulties, as we had no way of contacting the girls from Stanstead (or so we thought). We paid a pound-fifty for 10 minutes of internet time and fired off an email instructing the girls to have a look for us around 11am. Then, with only momements remaining, we got the bright idea to actually READ our email. Turns out Ginny had emailed out the phone number. Didn't we feel stupid. We called and woke up a hungover Krista and Ginny to give them or ETA.
So... this is my last full day in Europe. WHAT THE FACK!??? Time goes entirely too fast man... I'm not ready to go! But, all good things must come to an end. I guess I can take solace in the fact that I enjoyed the time I had over here to the fullest!
See you on the plane!
My last full day in Europe - wow. What a bittersweet time. My plane just touched down at Stanstead Airport in London, coming from Shannon Airport in western Ireland. We had a stellar three days on the west coast!
Arrived into Galway on Thursday (Aug 4th) in the rain (seems vaguely familiar doesn't it? It's been raining since we left Spain. I think it's payback for the amazing weather we had). Checked into the Kinlay House youth hostel and stumbled around town in the precipitation for a few hours. Galway is actually a pretty small spot - especially considering where we've been. But because of that fact it is also very cool and unique - cobblestone roads and more pubs than I could count. Even in the pissing rain, it seemed you couldn't dampen the spirits of the locals who were out in the streets and drinking like it was George Street fest. We were going to fit in here :)
Back at the hostel we met our roomates for the next 2 days - Leigh & Clarie, a pair of Glascow natives.... fucking hilarious and crazy girls. Turns out they were completely loaded when they first met us (unknown to us), so at the time we thought they were extra nuts. We took it easy that night - still recovering from our escapades in Dublin mostly - but Leigh managed to do alright from what I could tell. Love that Jack and Coke!
The next day Northcott and I elected to take a bus tour of the region in order to see all that there was to see as easily as possible. We boarded our tour to the Burren - an absolutely amazing region of western Ireland. We visitied castles, the Ailewee caves (my first time in a cave - pretty freaky!), Blackhead, and of course the world famous Cliffs of Moher - which were worth the trip west in themselves - absolutely mindblowing! We took the majority of our photos there (for good reason).
Got back home to Galway around 7pm, baked up some chicken for supper (that was a treat), and started in on our St. Brendan's Beer (which was Dunne's Grocery Story Brand beer - think "no-name beer"). Met the 5th and final roomate - Devon - or "King Tubor" as he would later be affectionately dubbed (because he took his empty Tubor Beer box and wore it like a crown for most of the evening) . He was a middle-aged California surfer dude from Cork, Ireland. Go figure. I've said this before - The characters you meet in hostels are sometimes as much a sight to see as the places you visit. King Tubor was nuts man - what a crazy grin! He was a great laugh tho! He also brought along an American friend, Julia, and the 6 of us decided to get plastered together and hit the town for the evening.
Steve and I had great night pub hopping through the streets of Galway and dancing like fools with 4 new friends. The 6 of us ended closing down the last bar - "The living room" - goodtimes indeed. The next morning we attempted to book a 3rd night at Kinlay house (Saturday night), but they were all booked up. Upon reviewing the bus schedule to Shannon airport (where we had to catch our flight back to the UK on Sunday), we realized that our options were limited to the locations on the bus route - otherwise, we had no way of getting to the airport!
Hostel searching proved to be futile in Limmerick, Shannon & Ennis - everything was booked. Shite! However, there was a small beacon of hope for our endavours: GORT! (No, seriously, that's the name of the town. GORT). So, we booked the "Culture Club" hostel and were off to Gort on the 4pm bus after saying our goodbyes to the girls, breakfast with the King and Julia, and one last stroll through town & to the cathedral.
I should mention that while in our hostel in Dublin, some asshole in our room stole one of our Guinness pint glasses we bought from the factory for souveniers. Shitty hey? So while I was still in Ireland, I had to RE-steal a Guinness glass from the pub we had breakfast at to replace it. I say "re-steal" because I stole one last night while out drinking, but we forgot it in Julia's purse, and she lost it. Anyway, all was set right, cause now I've got the Guinness glass the King himself used at breakfast! If that isn't a souvenir, I don't know what is.
So, we headed on to Gort (which, I should add, we decided to turn into a multi-use word... like the Smurfs used to do with the word "smurf"). So we're on the bus, but we missed our gorting stop because the gorting bus driver didn't know his gort from a hole in the ground. We jumped off the gorting bus on the highway and walked back into town. Then we couldn't find the gorting hostel and we thought we were officially gorted. However, by the skin of our gort, we eventually found it. Thank Gort. However, we forgort to write down Krista Coates' number in London, so we had no way of contacting the girls to let them know when we were coming! (But that comes later in this gorting story).
We dropped the bags and wandered around the bustling metropolis of Gort, got some grub at a pub and took in the movie that was playing on the tv there. Mmmm.... tv. It was Dr. No or something... whatver Bond movie has the dude with the eyepatch. As it turns out, the very next day (Aug 8th) would be a very big day for the community - the annual "GORT SHOW". How classic is that? We cursed the fact that we had to miss it, but we had a plane to catch! I got a pic with the Gort Show sign all the same.
Up at 4:15am (or 1:45am newfoundland time - either way, ouch!) to catch our bus to Shannon Airport. It got slightly tense for a moment there, but we made it out without a hitch. That was this morning, and as we speak I'm sitting on a coach, blasting down the motorway towards London's Liverpool Street station. However, when we got off the flight, we had a little bit of difficulties, as we had no way of contacting the girls from Stanstead (or so we thought). We paid a pound-fifty for 10 minutes of internet time and fired off an email instructing the girls to have a look for us around 11am. Then, with only momements remaining, we got the bright idea to actually READ our email. Turns out Ginny had emailed out the phone number. Didn't we feel stupid. We called and woke up a hungover Krista and Ginny to give them or ETA.
So... this is my last full day in Europe. WHAT THE FACK!??? Time goes entirely too fast man... I'm not ready to go! But, all good things must come to an end. I guess I can take solace in the fact that I enjoyed the time I had over here to the fullest!
See you on the plane!
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Eurotrip '05: Memories
Thurs, August 4, 2005 (Day 65)
Well here I am on the train to Galway, Ireland. I’ve got some time to kill and some space to fill in my journal… so I was thinking that while it’s all still nice and fresh in my mind, I’d like to take a moment to write down my favorite memories of each place I’ve been to so far on this trip. Bear with me... this will be pretty incoherent for the most part.
London… Mind the gap. Abbey road beat-boxing with the boys. Ben. The Westminster Abbey penny & relaxing in the grass beside it. Racing down Tavistock to get a free Bacardi & coke, and Ghandi Park where it all began - sitting like zombies on the bench.
Paris… Stopping into our little baguette shop for fresh bread in the morning. Rocking out on the bouncy floor at the Weezer concert. Lying in the grass below the Eiffel Tower on a sunny afternoon. The view from le Sacre Cour on a clear evening. Strolling through the Latin Quarter, and the quintessentially French accordion player behind Notre Dame as dusk stretched across the Seine.
Normandy… Sadness for those lost & newfound pride for my country. Canada House – the first piece of soil claimed on D-Day. Our kind and grateful driver who treated us with such respect… like we had personally set him free simply because we were Canadian. How this same man still visited the grave of a Canadian soldier; keeping the promise he had made to the soldier’s daughter years ago that he would “never again be alone in Normandy”. The bunkers and the beach… it still chills the blood to think of it. Much sadness… much heroism… much respect.
Amsterdam… The sly smile that seemed to be permanently etched on Rene’s face. The sight of Rene and his wife pulling up to the main canal dock in their tiny dory. Feeling very frightened yet very amused while flying along the road home in the back of the jeep late at night. Sleeping in the open hull of a ship with 3 blankets to stay warm. Andy, preparing a delicious breakfast in the morning, looking as though he’d slept in his clothes… he probably had. Having the boat we slept on shown to prospective buyers, and not knowing if it was about to ship off for a test drive with all our belongings on board. Being way too high and watching walls move, and of course, time for a really good duck show… “I’m Mister Blaaaack”.
Düsseldorf & Gelsenkirchen… Anticipation for the amazing concert to come. New friends on the train, bratwurst with amazing sauce and helpful Germans. An absolutely mind-bending concert… Sunday Bloody Sunday.
Berlin… Barnaby’s impromptu history lesson drawn in the dirt with a walking stick. Getting caught in a downpour but actually having an umbrella for once. Checkpoint Charlie, the wall, and the all the history and beauty of this city, both new and old.
Hamburg… Blatantly sneaking Ginny into the hotel once again. Prostitutes, bratwursts & beers. Hot sun, a great Coldplay concert while it lasted, and a hamburger boobie.
Zdar… Vera’s timid smile that lit up the room. Feeding the rabbits in the back yard. Roasting fresh Czech sausages over an open fire and eating fresh-picked cherries. Our walk through the meadow to Nova Paca and the great time sitting and laughing at the pub. How sad she looked when we left. How sad we were to leave her.
Prague… The view from the castle – all those red roofs. Charles Bridge, rubbing the statue of St. John for luck, and sitting in the sun on the cobblestones in the main square. Late night shots of Absynth and Kay’s infamous quote: “I like kissin”.
Vienna… Ottakringer and cards in the great Hostel Ruthensteiner with fellow Canadians. A friendly owner and a great deal on a great beer mug for Ricketts. A pot of pasta dumped in the sink, and the fact that it quite possibly made the pasta even better. A lot of churches I can’t place.
Venice… Being quite disoriented but not really caring. The pigeons in San Marco Square. “Oy! Oy! Haustella-Gondola!”. Ginny’s birthday supper. Watching cab-boats jocky for position near the stand. Exiting the train and experiencing the sticky Italian heat for the first time. Evening strolls and feeling like we finally got to see the true Venice. That giant moon, really hitting your eye like a big pizza-pie.
Florence… The unbelievable view of the city from Piazza Michelangelo. The surreal whiteness of an unbelievably old Duomo, just like a real life 3D puzzle. The fireworks for the feast of St. John that never seemed to end. Ricketts peeing in a crowded street on the walk home. A free seat at a classical concert and oh that Tuscan sun.
Rome… Aggravations succumbing to pure awe. The Pantheon and Trivy Fountain at night. The Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Square. The rays of light streaking down from above inside St. Peter’s. Waiting in line at the Vatican for two hours in jeans under the Roman sun, and how I would do it again in a second. The Coliseum and of course, bubble toe.
Corfu… Ouzo and soaking up the heat. Swimming in the salty sea and in the moment feeling very free. Cheap Gyros and fries for lunch in the caf overlooking the coast. Chilling on the beach with my friends, listening to the waves crash into shore. The indescribably beautiful mornings in this tropical paradise. Boozing the night away with new friends in far away land.
Athens… The Temple of Zeus, The Acropolis, and the view from the top. An at times indiscernible Brazilian tour guide and getting caught in a Greek downpour. Talking with new friends over beers in the hostel pub. Saying goodbye to some amazing traveling companions and wishing they could’ve stayed just another day or two.
Santorini… Two days of pure awe, as if my brain refused to believe the beauty my eyes were showing it. Coconut sprinkles on a giant chocolate “C”. Precariously perched houses on the cliff. The sunset on the southern tip with all those crazy actors pretending to be off their heads. The whitewashed houses, blue roofs and the blue sky… an entire community that looked like a painting. Traveling back through Corfu and meeting up with Cass, sleeping on ferries and a long day on the train northward. A night in Milan in a shady area of town.
Gryon… The view from the hostel, and how it alone was worth the trip. A 7 hour hike through the alps, frequently wishing for death on the way up, followed by being incredibly thankful for life at the top. My name carved in the cross at the peak. Campfire, beer, guitar and in that moment feeling like I was home again. One crazy night that had everything but sleep.
Nice & Monaco… Getting spoiled by Cass’ amazing sandwiches on the train. A lot of red and white flags. A principality that was like a palace. Enjoying wandering through the cities with some time to myself.
Barcelona… The beach, the park, and a very cool church. The food, lying on a park bench and recovering from a case of "eyes bigger than your stomach".
Valladolid… Attempting to understand drunken Spaniards at a wedding reception and meeting a lot of great people. Wandering around the streets at all hours of the day and night. Matrix gun-fights anywhere and everywhere with Northcott. Cooling beer in a hostel sink. An amazing BBQ in the Spanish countryside spent drinking and laughing with many new friends.
Grenada… Characters at the hostel beyond anything I could ever imagine. 44-degree weather, the Alhambra, and the damn climb up the hill to get home… but boy what a view. Attempting to understand the mind-boggling awesomeness that is a Tapas bar, and how they somehow manage to stay in business.
Alicante… Laura’s family’s amazing house. So much food I thought I’d die. Staying in a hotel and living like royalty. A fantastic weekend touring the area with our personal guide. Rollercoasters, posing as a Swiss Banker, and a new friend. Saying a temporary goodbye to more traveling companions.
Glascow… A cool vibe, a lot of pizza and getting shit on by a facking pigeon. The Cathedral, the Museum, and covering the whole city on foot in one day. Bloody hell?
Edinburgh… As beautiful as I remember. Standing below and looking up at that amazing castle. Wondering just how many of these Obelisk things there are in Europe. Being in the right place at the right time and getting to witness Black fireworks in the middle of the day. Beer and nachos at the Bull and a new tradition born.
Highlands… Skye, Loch Ness, Bannockburn, Glen Coe and the beautiful mossy green mountains that seemed endless. Discussing the finer points of electricity and literature with old man Pierre on the bus. The hike to the Man of Moor and an incredible view I can’t describe. Tailing a crazy man for kicks with new friends in Edinburgh, and near-disaster at a bus station at 2am.
Dublin… Fresh Guinness, and lots of it. Loving the accent, some ups and some downs and stumbling from pub to pub. Didn't really see any sights, but we saw what counts.
What a trip it's been. It's amazing what you can do in 10 weeks with a passport, a railpass, a bit of money, and some good friends by your side.
When we meet new people over here now and they ask us where we've been in Europe so far, we just kind of smile and say: "Everywhere."
Well here I am on the train to Galway, Ireland. I’ve got some time to kill and some space to fill in my journal… so I was thinking that while it’s all still nice and fresh in my mind, I’d like to take a moment to write down my favorite memories of each place I’ve been to so far on this trip. Bear with me... this will be pretty incoherent for the most part.
London… Mind the gap. Abbey road beat-boxing with the boys. Ben. The Westminster Abbey penny & relaxing in the grass beside it. Racing down Tavistock to get a free Bacardi & coke, and Ghandi Park where it all began - sitting like zombies on the bench.
Paris… Stopping into our little baguette shop for fresh bread in the morning. Rocking out on the bouncy floor at the Weezer concert. Lying in the grass below the Eiffel Tower on a sunny afternoon. The view from le Sacre Cour on a clear evening. Strolling through the Latin Quarter, and the quintessentially French accordion player behind Notre Dame as dusk stretched across the Seine.
Normandy… Sadness for those lost & newfound pride for my country. Canada House – the first piece of soil claimed on D-Day. Our kind and grateful driver who treated us with such respect… like we had personally set him free simply because we were Canadian. How this same man still visited the grave of a Canadian soldier; keeping the promise he had made to the soldier’s daughter years ago that he would “never again be alone in Normandy”. The bunkers and the beach… it still chills the blood to think of it. Much sadness… much heroism… much respect.
Amsterdam… The sly smile that seemed to be permanently etched on Rene’s face. The sight of Rene and his wife pulling up to the main canal dock in their tiny dory. Feeling very frightened yet very amused while flying along the road home in the back of the jeep late at night. Sleeping in the open hull of a ship with 3 blankets to stay warm. Andy, preparing a delicious breakfast in the morning, looking as though he’d slept in his clothes… he probably had. Having the boat we slept on shown to prospective buyers, and not knowing if it was about to ship off for a test drive with all our belongings on board. Being way too high and watching walls move, and of course, time for a really good duck show… “I’m Mister Blaaaack”.
Düsseldorf & Gelsenkirchen… Anticipation for the amazing concert to come. New friends on the train, bratwurst with amazing sauce and helpful Germans. An absolutely mind-bending concert… Sunday Bloody Sunday.
Berlin… Barnaby’s impromptu history lesson drawn in the dirt with a walking stick. Getting caught in a downpour but actually having an umbrella for once. Checkpoint Charlie, the wall, and the all the history and beauty of this city, both new and old.
Hamburg… Blatantly sneaking Ginny into the hotel once again. Prostitutes, bratwursts & beers. Hot sun, a great Coldplay concert while it lasted, and a hamburger boobie.
Zdar… Vera’s timid smile that lit up the room. Feeding the rabbits in the back yard. Roasting fresh Czech sausages over an open fire and eating fresh-picked cherries. Our walk through the meadow to Nova Paca and the great time sitting and laughing at the pub. How sad she looked when we left. How sad we were to leave her.
Prague… The view from the castle – all those red roofs. Charles Bridge, rubbing the statue of St. John for luck, and sitting in the sun on the cobblestones in the main square. Late night shots of Absynth and Kay’s infamous quote: “I like kissin”.
Vienna… Ottakringer and cards in the great Hostel Ruthensteiner with fellow Canadians. A friendly owner and a great deal on a great beer mug for Ricketts. A pot of pasta dumped in the sink, and the fact that it quite possibly made the pasta even better. A lot of churches I can’t place.
Venice… Being quite disoriented but not really caring. The pigeons in San Marco Square. “Oy! Oy! Haustella-Gondola!”. Ginny’s birthday supper. Watching cab-boats jocky for position near the stand. Exiting the train and experiencing the sticky Italian heat for the first time. Evening strolls and feeling like we finally got to see the true Venice. That giant moon, really hitting your eye like a big pizza-pie.
Florence… The unbelievable view of the city from Piazza Michelangelo. The surreal whiteness of an unbelievably old Duomo, just like a real life 3D puzzle. The fireworks for the feast of St. John that never seemed to end. Ricketts peeing in a crowded street on the walk home. A free seat at a classical concert and oh that Tuscan sun.
Rome… Aggravations succumbing to pure awe. The Pantheon and Trivy Fountain at night. The Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Square. The rays of light streaking down from above inside St. Peter’s. Waiting in line at the Vatican for two hours in jeans under the Roman sun, and how I would do it again in a second. The Coliseum and of course, bubble toe.
Corfu… Ouzo and soaking up the heat. Swimming in the salty sea and in the moment feeling very free. Cheap Gyros and fries for lunch in the caf overlooking the coast. Chilling on the beach with my friends, listening to the waves crash into shore. The indescribably beautiful mornings in this tropical paradise. Boozing the night away with new friends in far away land.
Athens… The Temple of Zeus, The Acropolis, and the view from the top. An at times indiscernible Brazilian tour guide and getting caught in a Greek downpour. Talking with new friends over beers in the hostel pub. Saying goodbye to some amazing traveling companions and wishing they could’ve stayed just another day or two.
Santorini… Two days of pure awe, as if my brain refused to believe the beauty my eyes were showing it. Coconut sprinkles on a giant chocolate “C”. Precariously perched houses on the cliff. The sunset on the southern tip with all those crazy actors pretending to be off their heads. The whitewashed houses, blue roofs and the blue sky… an entire community that looked like a painting. Traveling back through Corfu and meeting up with Cass, sleeping on ferries and a long day on the train northward. A night in Milan in a shady area of town.
Gryon… The view from the hostel, and how it alone was worth the trip. A 7 hour hike through the alps, frequently wishing for death on the way up, followed by being incredibly thankful for life at the top. My name carved in the cross at the peak. Campfire, beer, guitar and in that moment feeling like I was home again. One crazy night that had everything but sleep.
Nice & Monaco… Getting spoiled by Cass’ amazing sandwiches on the train. A lot of red and white flags. A principality that was like a palace. Enjoying wandering through the cities with some time to myself.
Barcelona… The beach, the park, and a very cool church. The food, lying on a park bench and recovering from a case of "eyes bigger than your stomach".
Valladolid… Attempting to understand drunken Spaniards at a wedding reception and meeting a lot of great people. Wandering around the streets at all hours of the day and night. Matrix gun-fights anywhere and everywhere with Northcott. Cooling beer in a hostel sink. An amazing BBQ in the Spanish countryside spent drinking and laughing with many new friends.
Grenada… Characters at the hostel beyond anything I could ever imagine. 44-degree weather, the Alhambra, and the damn climb up the hill to get home… but boy what a view. Attempting to understand the mind-boggling awesomeness that is a Tapas bar, and how they somehow manage to stay in business.
Alicante… Laura’s family’s amazing house. So much food I thought I’d die. Staying in a hotel and living like royalty. A fantastic weekend touring the area with our personal guide. Rollercoasters, posing as a Swiss Banker, and a new friend. Saying a temporary goodbye to more traveling companions.
Glascow… A cool vibe, a lot of pizza and getting shit on by a facking pigeon. The Cathedral, the Museum, and covering the whole city on foot in one day. Bloody hell?
Edinburgh… As beautiful as I remember. Standing below and looking up at that amazing castle. Wondering just how many of these Obelisk things there are in Europe. Being in the right place at the right time and getting to witness Black fireworks in the middle of the day. Beer and nachos at the Bull and a new tradition born.
Highlands… Skye, Loch Ness, Bannockburn, Glen Coe and the beautiful mossy green mountains that seemed endless. Discussing the finer points of electricity and literature with old man Pierre on the bus. The hike to the Man of Moor and an incredible view I can’t describe. Tailing a crazy man for kicks with new friends in Edinburgh, and near-disaster at a bus station at 2am.
Dublin… Fresh Guinness, and lots of it. Loving the accent, some ups and some downs and stumbling from pub to pub. Didn't really see any sights, but we saw what counts.
What a trip it's been. It's amazing what you can do in 10 weeks with a passport, a railpass, a bit of money, and some good friends by your side.
When we meet new people over here now and they ask us where we've been in Europe so far, we just kind of smile and say: "Everywhere."
Eurotrip '05: Dublin
Thurs, August 4, 2005 (Day 65)
Greetings from Dublin's Heuston Rail Station where Northcott and I are currently awaiting departure to the west coast of Ireland and the city of Galway. Had a great time here in Dublin these last few days... I think it can be summed up in one word: BOOZE.
Arrived in the city around 10am on Tuesday the 2nd on our flight from Prestwick which we almost never made due to a close call with a locked Edinburgh Bus Station (see last post). Caught the bus into town from the airport after making change with some nice Irish fellows near the stop. What are we... back on the Euro again? Put the pounds away! We jumped off our bus at what I figured was pretty close to the city centre (i.e. the stop closest to the river)... we really didn't know where we were going, but thankfully I had Ashton's "Lonely Planet Guide to Western Europe" with me, so we used that to piece together where to get off the bus, and where we we had to go.
I should note at this point that a guide book such as the Lonely Planet book I mentioned above is a godsend in situations like this. I consider it an invaluable piece of backpacking equipment. I used it in every single western european country we visited... a huge help for things like maps, accomodtions, sights to see. It definitely saved us a lot of time and effort. Thanks again Martyn!
So as I said, we hop off the bus at the river and head west from the center down to the Four Courts Hostel... seemed like a very cool spot. The internet reviews didn't lie. Given what we had just been through in getting here (a near-catastrophic all-nighter from Ediniburgh), we found some leather couches in a quiet reading room in the basement and totally crashed for a few hours.
Awoke at 3pm refreshed and feeling good. Checked in to our room, and hit the town to get our bearings on the place. Lo and behold, not 5 mins out of the hostel we run into more people we knew from our Highlands Tour! After our chat with them, Steve and I headed up to St. Jame's Gate to see the Guinness factory... we'll definitley be hitting that place up in the near future. Then we walked down Dame street, past the Temple Bar area towards Trinity College. From here we decided to start our journey back home... but first, a stop into Harry B's pub for the freshest and cheapest pint of Guiness I have ever tasted in my life. Good god this stuff is awesome! Not bad when it only has to roll down the road! Well... you know what they say... one good beer deserves another. So we headed back down to the Temple Bar area (which is this massive George Street-esk type area within central Dublin containing tons of bars). We hit up the liveliest pub we heard... being a Tuesday evening and all. Turns out there was a live band playing. We walk in... and man, I tell you... it was like I stepped into O'Reilley's or something... except with slightly different accents. The band played songs like "Whiskey in the Jar" and "Tell my mom when I go home".... and I tell you... I felt like I was home. On the way home we ducked into an internet cafe to take care of a few matters. I lucked into sitting at a terminal which still had 30mins of time left running and unused.... so we got free interent to boot! Finished it all off with a bit of subway (it was a subway/internet cafe place... interesting concept eh? I'd have called it "Surf -n- Subs".) All in all, a great first day and night in Dublin!
Slept in a bit on Wednesday (Aug 3rd). The only real plan we had for the day was to hit the Guinness Brewery, so that's what we did first. Took the tour of the place - interesting times learning how they make beer - the view of Dubln from the "Gravity Bar" at the top of the building is phneominal. Most importantly, we got a free pint of beer b/c the lass who served us didn't bother to take our "free pint of Guinness" token. Naturally, we stayed for a while, enjoyed our pair of fresh and delicious pints each, and took in the fantasitc view.
Stumbled down the stairs, and naturally, we had to buy some more Guinness for the road. We also bought some Pint glasses for souveniers (one for me, my brother Jason, Steve, and his good buddy DJ). Went on back to the hostel for a bite to eat, drank some more fresh beers, and had a wee nap (we were tuckered out from all the boozin). Got up, ate once again (ok.. you might think we're pigs... but we're living on sandwiches here and we've been drinkin). We hoofed it down to the Trinity College once again because we saw an ad in our hostel for a "backpackers pubcrawl" taking place that night.
Unfortunately when we got there, we were the only ones to show... so the girl told us it would have to be cancelled :( . On the bright side, she offered to walk us down to to the area we were headed and show us all the bars she had planned on taking us too... so we could still crawl... but it would just be the 2 of us. Ah well! Naturally we didn't let a silly setback like having no-one to drink with slow us down. She took us down Grafton Street, which apparently is where the hometown folk like to haunt (as opposed to the touristy and over-priced Temple Bar area).
We hit up a brew-pub whose name escapes me for a selection of very tasty local beer brewed in-house. From there we hit The Duke, McDairds, Major Tom's, and Down Under (an aussie pub). We possibly hit more... I can't fully remember... which is indicative of any stellar pub crawl. Anyway, neeless to say it was a pretty successful crawl for two fools who knew nothing of the place. Definitely a good laugh. When you've been travelling with someone non-stop for near on 10 weeks, I guess it's a pretty good sign when you're still having fun with just them. (cut to Northcott and I walking home, and coming across a teeder-todder like thing, and jumping up and down on either side it and making goofy sounds like the morons we are...)
This morning (Thurs, Aug 4th) I'm feeling the most hung over I've been in quite some time on this trip, so that's a clear indicator of the good times had. Basically, Dublin = Eat, Sleep, Drink, Sleep, Drink, Eat, Drink, repeat.
I've been trying really hard not to think about the fact that we've only got 5 days left over here in Euorpe. My god... where have 65 days gone? I feel like I could go for another 2 months! It's sad knowing that this is pretty much it... the end of an era. Time to grow up. You know... maybe. At least I can take solace in the fact that I truly did live the dream - the life some consider a myth, so to speak. I could easily write a novel about each of the places I've been. I've seen so much and yet it all just leaves me wanting more... particularly brought about by the realization of how little of this world I've actually seen....
Dublin was awesome! Again... not enough time here, but I guess that's true for just about every place I've been! I said I dig ya baby, but I got ta keep movin... on.
QOTD:
Steve: "There's a good chance we're really not going to get to see any of the sights here in Dublin... ....unless you count the bars."
Reid: "I DO."
Greetings from Dublin's Heuston Rail Station where Northcott and I are currently awaiting departure to the west coast of Ireland and the city of Galway. Had a great time here in Dublin these last few days... I think it can be summed up in one word: BOOZE.
Arrived in the city around 10am on Tuesday the 2nd on our flight from Prestwick which we almost never made due to a close call with a locked Edinburgh Bus Station (see last post). Caught the bus into town from the airport after making change with some nice Irish fellows near the stop. What are we... back on the Euro again? Put the pounds away! We jumped off our bus at what I figured was pretty close to the city centre (i.e. the stop closest to the river)... we really didn't know where we were going, but thankfully I had Ashton's "Lonely Planet Guide to Western Europe" with me, so we used that to piece together where to get off the bus, and where we we had to go.
I should note at this point that a guide book such as the Lonely Planet book I mentioned above is a godsend in situations like this. I consider it an invaluable piece of backpacking equipment. I used it in every single western european country we visited... a huge help for things like maps, accomodtions, sights to see. It definitely saved us a lot of time and effort. Thanks again Martyn!
So as I said, we hop off the bus at the river and head west from the center down to the Four Courts Hostel... seemed like a very cool spot. The internet reviews didn't lie. Given what we had just been through in getting here (a near-catastrophic all-nighter from Ediniburgh), we found some leather couches in a quiet reading room in the basement and totally crashed for a few hours.
Awoke at 3pm refreshed and feeling good. Checked in to our room, and hit the town to get our bearings on the place. Lo and behold, not 5 mins out of the hostel we run into more people we knew from our Highlands Tour! After our chat with them, Steve and I headed up to St. Jame's Gate to see the Guinness factory... we'll definitley be hitting that place up in the near future. Then we walked down Dame street, past the Temple Bar area towards Trinity College. From here we decided to start our journey back home... but first, a stop into Harry B's pub for the freshest and cheapest pint of Guiness I have ever tasted in my life. Good god this stuff is awesome! Not bad when it only has to roll down the road! Well... you know what they say... one good beer deserves another. So we headed back down to the Temple Bar area (which is this massive George Street-esk type area within central Dublin containing tons of bars). We hit up the liveliest pub we heard... being a Tuesday evening and all. Turns out there was a live band playing. We walk in... and man, I tell you... it was like I stepped into O'Reilley's or something... except with slightly different accents. The band played songs like "Whiskey in the Jar" and "Tell my mom when I go home".... and I tell you... I felt like I was home. On the way home we ducked into an internet cafe to take care of a few matters. I lucked into sitting at a terminal which still had 30mins of time left running and unused.... so we got free interent to boot! Finished it all off with a bit of subway (it was a subway/internet cafe place... interesting concept eh? I'd have called it "Surf -n- Subs".) All in all, a great first day and night in Dublin!
Slept in a bit on Wednesday (Aug 3rd). The only real plan we had for the day was to hit the Guinness Brewery, so that's what we did first. Took the tour of the place - interesting times learning how they make beer - the view of Dubln from the "Gravity Bar" at the top of the building is phneominal. Most importantly, we got a free pint of beer b/c the lass who served us didn't bother to take our "free pint of Guinness" token. Naturally, we stayed for a while, enjoyed our pair of fresh and delicious pints each, and took in the fantasitc view.
Stumbled down the stairs, and naturally, we had to buy some more Guinness for the road. We also bought some Pint glasses for souveniers (one for me, my brother Jason, Steve, and his good buddy DJ). Went on back to the hostel for a bite to eat, drank some more fresh beers, and had a wee nap (we were tuckered out from all the boozin). Got up, ate once again (ok.. you might think we're pigs... but we're living on sandwiches here and we've been drinkin). We hoofed it down to the Trinity College once again because we saw an ad in our hostel for a "backpackers pubcrawl" taking place that night.
Unfortunately when we got there, we were the only ones to show... so the girl told us it would have to be cancelled :( . On the bright side, she offered to walk us down to to the area we were headed and show us all the bars she had planned on taking us too... so we could still crawl... but it would just be the 2 of us. Ah well! Naturally we didn't let a silly setback like having no-one to drink with slow us down. She took us down Grafton Street, which apparently is where the hometown folk like to haunt (as opposed to the touristy and over-priced Temple Bar area).
We hit up a brew-pub whose name escapes me for a selection of very tasty local beer brewed in-house. From there we hit The Duke, McDairds, Major Tom's, and Down Under (an aussie pub). We possibly hit more... I can't fully remember... which is indicative of any stellar pub crawl. Anyway, neeless to say it was a pretty successful crawl for two fools who knew nothing of the place. Definitely a good laugh. When you've been travelling with someone non-stop for near on 10 weeks, I guess it's a pretty good sign when you're still having fun with just them. (cut to Northcott and I walking home, and coming across a teeder-todder like thing, and jumping up and down on either side it and making goofy sounds like the morons we are...)
This morning (Thurs, Aug 4th) I'm feeling the most hung over I've been in quite some time on this trip, so that's a clear indicator of the good times had. Basically, Dublin = Eat, Sleep, Drink, Sleep, Drink, Eat, Drink, repeat.
I've been trying really hard not to think about the fact that we've only got 5 days left over here in Euorpe. My god... where have 65 days gone? I feel like I could go for another 2 months! It's sad knowing that this is pretty much it... the end of an era. Time to grow up. You know... maybe. At least I can take solace in the fact that I truly did live the dream - the life some consider a myth, so to speak. I could easily write a novel about each of the places I've been. I've seen so much and yet it all just leaves me wanting more... particularly brought about by the realization of how little of this world I've actually seen....
Dublin was awesome! Again... not enough time here, but I guess that's true for just about every place I've been! I said I dig ya baby, but I got ta keep movin... on.
QOTD:
Steve: "There's a good chance we're really not going to get to see any of the sights here in Dublin... ....unless you count the bars."
Reid: "I DO."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)