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."