This blog should, in all honesty, be titled:
The Day That I Actually Did Something in Bangkok Other Than Drink and Shop
The sad thing is that I truly did try to go sight seeing on two separate occasions. The first time, I was trying to get to a temple to see an alms giving ceremony. I got so completely lost on my way to the Wat that I ended up having to take a Tuk Tuk back to Khao San road because I couldn't remember where it was. The second time, I was heading out to see the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew. I got to the first intersection and became so terrified that I immediately turned back. You know how you see the pictures of traffic intersections in major US cities? They're about three levels high, have two hundred lanes, and probably kill fourteen people a year with air pollution? Well if you took those three levels, and squashed them down into one, you'd have an intersection in Bangkok. And add about seventeen more deaths.
But today - TODAY - I was going to do it. I was my last day in Bangkok, and I refused to walk away saying that the only thing I saw was Khao San road. So I marched out, armed with my Lonely Planet, prepared to take on that bloody intersection...and I immediately went the wrong way. Happily, there was a very nice Thai man who spoke very good English, wished me a Happy Chinese New Years, and pointed me in the right direction. He even warned me about Tuk Tuks and cabs trying to scam me. Which I thought was quite honest and sweet of him.
So I made it to the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew! But not before I lost 150 Baht ($5) to some blankety-blank pigeon woman. I was walking down the strip, almost at the Palace, and she stops me to tell me where Wat Pho is. So I thank her, and she dumps corn in my hands. I am then surrounded by pigeons, but she just keeps the corn coming, and now I am completely covered in pigeons. Then her friend joins in with more corn and at this point, she demands 500 Baht ($15). I kept saying no no no no no, and she just kept going down in price, until I gave her the 150 Baht just to shut up. Then - THEN - she tries to ask for another 150 blasted Baht for her friend. I walked away. Which I then realized I should have just done in the first place. Whatever...I got to hold a pigeon. That's worth $5 to me.
The Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaew were astounding. I've never seen so much gold in all my life. The area that holds the Emerald Buddha is practically blinding. It felt amazing to for-real-for-real be sitting in front of one of the most revered objects in the whole world. On the downside, I picked the smoggiest day that Bangkok has had since I got here to do my tour. Also, I decided to tour the Palace on some sort of state holiday. So half of it was closed. However, the Palace is really only second to Wat Phra Kaew. But don't tell the King that I said so. Or any Thai people for that matter. They looooooove the Royal Family here.
On my way out, I decided to skip Wat Pho for the day, where the giant reclining Buddha is held. After my fiasco with the state holiday, I figured that I wouldn't risk it and just save it for when I come back to the city. Walking back to Khao San I stopped for some fresh fruit at a road side stand, which are fantastic inventions by the way. Cheaper than dirt and better than restaurants, they have everything from fresh fruit and hand squeezed juice to Phad Thai and Som Tam. Anyways, I did some pointing, she did some yabbering, and what I ended up with was either an extremely green mango, or the tartest pear I've ever had. She ended up with my 10 Baht. Or she sold me something that no Thai person would have ever eaten and I got laughed at horrendously after I left. Either way, I liked my sketchy fruit thing.
So this is it now, I head to Phuket at 6pm tonight, provided that I don't play the ass and miss my bus again. Amy, here I come (for real this time)! And Mike, I'll see you on Samui in a few days. To everyone else, wish me luck on the bus! Hopefully none of my things get stolen...
Quote of the Day:
So I ended up talking to the Doppel last night for about four hours on Skype. For those of you who don't know the Doppel, his name is Jesse (but no one calls him that except his mother), he is Kaare's evil twin, and he lives in Kagoshima, Japan. He's also one of my bestest friends. Anywho, I'm talking to him last night, and we get onto the subject of Dragon Ball Z, a Japanese Anime cartoon, for those who aren't losers like us. There is this thing in...you know what...this is just going to take way to long to explain. I'll give you the quote and shut up about the Dragon Ball Z geek-details. Basically, he discovered the translation for something, and in a little kid sad voice, he says to me on the phone:
"But humans are life-people too..."
You probably had to be there.
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
Friday, 1 February 2008
Angie and the Airports
It's official. I hate airports with a firey passion that could only have been born in hell. Which airports are, so obviously my firey hate came from the airport. Logic.
I get to the airport in Istanbul exactly two hours before my flight to Bangkok. I stand in line for thirty freaking minutes to check in. When I get to the check in, the woman at the counter asks me how long I plan to stay in Thailand. I tell her thirty days, which is the allowed length or time for Canadians without a visa. She then asks to see my ticket out of the country. Which I don't have because, firstly, I've never found information telling me that I needed to produce one, and secondly, I had been planning to take trains and busses overland. So I get a little frightened. The lady at the desks directs me over to the ticket agents on the other side of the extremely large, international airport, and tells me she'll reserve me a seat, but that I need to get a ticket out of Thailand.
Over I head to the ticket counters, feeling like an idiot hauling my luggage all over the place. I explain to the woman at that counter what my problem is. I ask her to get me just a cheap ticket to anywhere in Southeast Asia because at this point I don't really care. Inter-Asia flights are quite inexpensive, so I knew that even if I didn't catch the flight, I wouldn't really care too much. This woman then proceeds to tell me that it's going to cost 150 Euros (about $225 Canadian), but that it is only a "ghost ticket"...I can't actually use it. This seems a little steep and sketchy to me, so I ask if I can pay with my credit card. When she tells me that they only take cash, I start to see what this "ghost ticket" is actually about, and why I can't catch a flight with it. Thank God I'd been in Turkey long enough to reconize a scam when I see one.
Next, I run all around the airport trying to find an internet stand. I finally find one, get online with Air Asia, and book a flight from Krabi (Thailand) to Kuala Lampur (Malaysia) for about $60 Canadian. This sounds fantastic, doesn't it? The fine print, however, is that they won't let me print, even after I explain what my situation is. I think they work in tandem with the ticket sellers. Well my only option now is to write down all the information for my ticket and hope that the check in people accept it, because at this point, I've got about forty five minutes left to catch my flight.
I get to the check in counter, sweating from running, wide eyed with fear, ticket on the ready...and the lady checks me in. Without even asking to see my ticket out of Thailand. This is actually the exact same story that a friend of mine had when he was leaving Britain for Singapore. It appears that airport officials just get to decide on whatever they like. I end up making it onto my flight with five minutes to spare.
I then have a wonderful flight, no problem with my transfer in Doha (Saudi Arabia), and a very comfortable rest of my flight to Bangkok. I arrive at 6:30am. As I am heading to customs, I see a sign that says "Visa on Arrival". This trickiest of tricky signs roped me in. When I get to the Visa on Arrival counter, I see that I need 1000 Baht ($30) for my visa. I also see that I need small ID photos for the visa, which cost 200 Baht ($6). Thankfully I have some of these...in my checked luggage. I have only Euros on me at the moment. So I ask an official walking by where an ATM is. He tells me that it's on the other side of customs. So I hit the currency exchange counter (interesting that they had one of those but no ATM) and change about 50 Euros into Baht. I head over to the photo booth, get my ID pictures taken, and get told by the lady standing there that I don't need them if I'm Canadian. This is after I'd already spent the 200 Baht for them. Great. Well then I go sit down and wait for my number to be called for my visa. Thirty minutes later, an official walking by asks me where I'm from. He then informs me that Canadians don't need to apply for visas on arrival, and that I'll just get my passport stamped at customs.
Which I do, and finally arrive outside of the airport at 10am. I catch a taxi to Khao San road, which mysteriously went from being 500 Baht ($15) when we started the trip, to 600 Baht ($18) half way through the drive. But what do I do at that point? I'm already in the cab and I frankly don't want to be left on the side of the highway in Bangkok. I'm not going to squabble over $3 for something like that. Finally arriving on Khao San road, I grab a hostel for 180 Baht ($5-6) per night and immediately fall asleep.
So here I am everyone, in Bangkok! It's been a few days now, and I have done absolutely nothing. I haven't left Khao San road the entire time. But it's been amazing. I've been playing my favourite sport everyday, people watching. It's just so much fun to do when the whole atmosphere is a completely new experience. And I've also met some really nice people, some of whom I'm meeting up with later this month. I ended up missing my bus to Phuket yesterday because I was hanging out with a gent named Travis and totally forgot about it! So I rebooked and now head to the islands tomorrow, and hopefully you'll all hear from me safe and sound on Phuket.
Quote of the Day:
Travis is an American rock climber...his take on America? (Pardon the French Nana)
"America actually celebrates Colombus Day and the fucking retard thought he was in India."
I get to the airport in Istanbul exactly two hours before my flight to Bangkok. I stand in line for thirty freaking minutes to check in. When I get to the check in, the woman at the counter asks me how long I plan to stay in Thailand. I tell her thirty days, which is the allowed length or time for Canadians without a visa. She then asks to see my ticket out of the country. Which I don't have because, firstly, I've never found information telling me that I needed to produce one, and secondly, I had been planning to take trains and busses overland. So I get a little frightened. The lady at the desks directs me over to the ticket agents on the other side of the extremely large, international airport, and tells me she'll reserve me a seat, but that I need to get a ticket out of Thailand.
Over I head to the ticket counters, feeling like an idiot hauling my luggage all over the place. I explain to the woman at that counter what my problem is. I ask her to get me just a cheap ticket to anywhere in Southeast Asia because at this point I don't really care. Inter-Asia flights are quite inexpensive, so I knew that even if I didn't catch the flight, I wouldn't really care too much. This woman then proceeds to tell me that it's going to cost 150 Euros (about $225 Canadian), but that it is only a "ghost ticket"...I can't actually use it. This seems a little steep and sketchy to me, so I ask if I can pay with my credit card. When she tells me that they only take cash, I start to see what this "ghost ticket" is actually about, and why I can't catch a flight with it. Thank God I'd been in Turkey long enough to reconize a scam when I see one.
Next, I run all around the airport trying to find an internet stand. I finally find one, get online with Air Asia, and book a flight from Krabi (Thailand) to Kuala Lampur (Malaysia) for about $60 Canadian. This sounds fantastic, doesn't it? The fine print, however, is that they won't let me print, even after I explain what my situation is. I think they work in tandem with the ticket sellers. Well my only option now is to write down all the information for my ticket and hope that the check in people accept it, because at this point, I've got about forty five minutes left to catch my flight.
I get to the check in counter, sweating from running, wide eyed with fear, ticket on the ready...and the lady checks me in. Without even asking to see my ticket out of Thailand. This is actually the exact same story that a friend of mine had when he was leaving Britain for Singapore. It appears that airport officials just get to decide on whatever they like. I end up making it onto my flight with five minutes to spare.
I then have a wonderful flight, no problem with my transfer in Doha (Saudi Arabia), and a very comfortable rest of my flight to Bangkok. I arrive at 6:30am. As I am heading to customs, I see a sign that says "Visa on Arrival". This trickiest of tricky signs roped me in. When I get to the Visa on Arrival counter, I see that I need 1000 Baht ($30) for my visa. I also see that I need small ID photos for the visa, which cost 200 Baht ($6). Thankfully I have some of these...in my checked luggage. I have only Euros on me at the moment. So I ask an official walking by where an ATM is. He tells me that it's on the other side of customs. So I hit the currency exchange counter (interesting that they had one of those but no ATM) and change about 50 Euros into Baht. I head over to the photo booth, get my ID pictures taken, and get told by the lady standing there that I don't need them if I'm Canadian. This is after I'd already spent the 200 Baht for them. Great. Well then I go sit down and wait for my number to be called for my visa. Thirty minutes later, an official walking by asks me where I'm from. He then informs me that Canadians don't need to apply for visas on arrival, and that I'll just get my passport stamped at customs.
Which I do, and finally arrive outside of the airport at 10am. I catch a taxi to Khao San road, which mysteriously went from being 500 Baht ($15) when we started the trip, to 600 Baht ($18) half way through the drive. But what do I do at that point? I'm already in the cab and I frankly don't want to be left on the side of the highway in Bangkok. I'm not going to squabble over $3 for something like that. Finally arriving on Khao San road, I grab a hostel for 180 Baht ($5-6) per night and immediately fall asleep.
So here I am everyone, in Bangkok! It's been a few days now, and I have done absolutely nothing. I haven't left Khao San road the entire time. But it's been amazing. I've been playing my favourite sport everyday, people watching. It's just so much fun to do when the whole atmosphere is a completely new experience. And I've also met some really nice people, some of whom I'm meeting up with later this month. I ended up missing my bus to Phuket yesterday because I was hanging out with a gent named Travis and totally forgot about it! So I rebooked and now head to the islands tomorrow, and hopefully you'll all hear from me safe and sound on Phuket.
Quote of the Day:
Travis is an American rock climber...his take on America? (Pardon the French Nana)
"America actually celebrates Colombus Day and the fucking retard thought he was in India."
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
Istanbul, Turkey
This is a city of character. Full of it and them. Character in spades. Also in hearts, clubs and diamonds. As in, I heart backgammon, I want to club the guy down the street and the 84 carat diamond at the Topkapı Palace. The sights in Istanbul are amazing. We were staying right next door to both the Blue Mosque and Aya Sofia, which look like something out of Aladdin. The Grand Bazaar was two blocks away, and the Asian side of Istanbul, with its fresh fish (aka alive) and produce markets was only a fifteen minute ferry ride.
It's difficult to describe Istanbul. I think the best adjectives for this city are its people; foreign and local alike. So, I give you my top five people in Istanbul (not including Kaare). Hopefully they will help you piece together a piece mealed city.
1. Pascal (Aussie)
This guy could tell a story almost as well as Kaare can, and his laugh made you wonder if the world has ever had anything worth crying over, it was that infectious. He couldn't dance worth snot, but when the belly dancer at our hostel called him up...well...we took pictures and he didn't even care! Istanbul and its insincerity can really start to get to a person. You can never tell if someone wants to actually talk to you, or just sell you a carpet. Pascal's laugh was a cornily described "breath of fresh air", and a thankfully received, light-hearted perspective.
2. Becks (Kurdish)
Remember the guy down the street that I wanted to club? This is him. I have never seen a more text book psychopath in my life. Series of events:
a) He invites us into his restaurant for tea and teaches us to play backgammon.
b) He hits on me later that night.
c) I say no.
d) He freaks out.
e) Everyone is afraid of him.
Add a lot more details and what you get is every person in our hostel walking five minutes out of their way, all of the time, just to avoid the street he works on.
3. Amy Heading (Aussie)
Now, don't take this next sentence the wrong way, read the whole section before you judge. The was nothing overtly special about Amy. She had no fantastic story behind her and no crazy personality trait to warrant writing a blog about. Except for the fact that I honestly liked her a whole bunch. This is so rare for me to say about a woman, that I'm surprised at myself. I'm even rearranging some of my Thailand plans to meet up with her in Phuket. She was genuine. And you know, I think that's all I'm going to say about her. Anything else would just be extra adjectives, and I don't want to waste her on them.
4. Jay-Z Rex (Brazilian)
His name was Ken. He Fluently spoke Portuguese, Spanish, English and Japanese. He was conversational in French, Italian and German. His Japanese family moved to Brazil, then gave birth to him. So he was actually Brazilian, but looked Japanese, hence, Japazilian. Well, Kaare decided that "Japazilian" sounded way too much like a dinosaur to not include "Rex" after it. He became Japazilian Rex, later shortened to Jay-Z Rex. Did I mention that his real name is actually Socrates? Who gets to live a life where your name is Socrates and your nickname is Jay-Z Rex? Can life possibly be that sweet?
5. The Kid Who Scammed Kaare (probably Turkish or Kurdish)
Readers Digest Version:
a) Kaare goes to the ATM.
b) Shoe Shine Kid (hence forth referred to as the SS Kid) chats Kaare up Turkish style, which comprises or four important phrases:
i. Yes please, my friend!
ii. Where are you from?
iii. I love (insert country)!/I have a friend from (insert country)!
iv. Can I offer you some tea/sell you a carpet/spend your money/shine your shoes?
c) After Kaare says no, the SS Kid shines his shoes anyways.
d)The SS Kid brushes Kaare's shoes for 2.45 seconds, then demands $45 (perhaps a dollar to 1/10 second ratio? I'm just trying to rationalize here...)
e) Kaare says, "I'm quite sorry young sir, but I do not believe that the service provided was quite adequate enough to warrant $45, especially after I refused said service. Perhaps you should forget about it." Something like that.
f) The SS Kid goes down to $20.
g) see 'e'
h) some random huge guy walks up and offers to pay for Kaare's shoe shine, and then does so after Kaare says no.
i) The SS Kid runs away.
j) Random Huge Guy now tells Kaare to pay him back.
k) Kaare loses $20.
My only personal interaction with this kid was:
a) Listening to him call Kaare "my brother" the day after the scam.
b) Watching him stick out his tongue at Kaare whenever we walked by.
Kaare wants to throw rocks at this kid. I want to take his picture and love him forever.
Quote of the Day:
We were hanging out at our hostel watching women's volleyball, in which, after each point, all the players on the team hug.
Angie: I don't think that I would want to be touching someone that sweaty after all that physical exercise.
Random Dude on the Couch: So you don't like sex?
It's difficult to describe Istanbul. I think the best adjectives for this city are its people; foreign and local alike. So, I give you my top five people in Istanbul (not including Kaare). Hopefully they will help you piece together a piece mealed city.
1. Pascal (Aussie)
This guy could tell a story almost as well as Kaare can, and his laugh made you wonder if the world has ever had anything worth crying over, it was that infectious. He couldn't dance worth snot, but when the belly dancer at our hostel called him up...well...we took pictures and he didn't even care! Istanbul and its insincerity can really start to get to a person. You can never tell if someone wants to actually talk to you, or just sell you a carpet. Pascal's laugh was a cornily described "breath of fresh air", and a thankfully received, light-hearted perspective.
2. Becks (Kurdish)
Remember the guy down the street that I wanted to club? This is him. I have never seen a more text book psychopath in my life. Series of events:
a) He invites us into his restaurant for tea and teaches us to play backgammon.
b) He hits on me later that night.
c) I say no.
d) He freaks out.
e) Everyone is afraid of him.
Add a lot more details and what you get is every person in our hostel walking five minutes out of their way, all of the time, just to avoid the street he works on.
3. Amy Heading (Aussie)
Now, don't take this next sentence the wrong way, read the whole section before you judge. The was nothing overtly special about Amy. She had no fantastic story behind her and no crazy personality trait to warrant writing a blog about. Except for the fact that I honestly liked her a whole bunch. This is so rare for me to say about a woman, that I'm surprised at myself. I'm even rearranging some of my Thailand plans to meet up with her in Phuket. She was genuine. And you know, I think that's all I'm going to say about her. Anything else would just be extra adjectives, and I don't want to waste her on them.
4. Jay-Z Rex (Brazilian)
His name was Ken. He Fluently spoke Portuguese, Spanish, English and Japanese. He was conversational in French, Italian and German. His Japanese family moved to Brazil, then gave birth to him. So he was actually Brazilian, but looked Japanese, hence, Japazilian. Well, Kaare decided that "Japazilian" sounded way too much like a dinosaur to not include "Rex" after it. He became Japazilian Rex, later shortened to Jay-Z Rex. Did I mention that his real name is actually Socrates? Who gets to live a life where your name is Socrates and your nickname is Jay-Z Rex? Can life possibly be that sweet?
5. The Kid Who Scammed Kaare (probably Turkish or Kurdish)
Readers Digest Version:
a) Kaare goes to the ATM.
b) Shoe Shine Kid (hence forth referred to as the SS Kid) chats Kaare up Turkish style, which comprises or four important phrases:
i. Yes please, my friend!
ii. Where are you from?
iii. I love (insert country)!/I have a friend from (insert country)!
iv. Can I offer you some tea/sell you a carpet/spend your money/shine your shoes?
c) After Kaare says no, the SS Kid shines his shoes anyways.
d)The SS Kid brushes Kaare's shoes for 2.45 seconds, then demands $45 (perhaps a dollar to 1/10 second ratio? I'm just trying to rationalize here...)
e) Kaare says, "I'm quite sorry young sir, but I do not believe that the service provided was quite adequate enough to warrant $45, especially after I refused said service. Perhaps you should forget about it." Something like that.
f) The SS Kid goes down to $20.
g) see 'e'
h) some random huge guy walks up and offers to pay for Kaare's shoe shine, and then does so after Kaare says no.
i) The SS Kid runs away.
j) Random Huge Guy now tells Kaare to pay him back.
k) Kaare loses $20.
My only personal interaction with this kid was:
a) Listening to him call Kaare "my brother" the day after the scam.
b) Watching him stick out his tongue at Kaare whenever we walked by.
Kaare wants to throw rocks at this kid. I want to take his picture and love him forever.
Quote of the Day:
We were hanging out at our hostel watching women's volleyball, in which, after each point, all the players on the team hug.
Angie: I don't think that I would want to be touching someone that sweaty after all that physical exercise.
Random Dude on the Couch: So you don't like sex?
Saturday, 5 January 2008
Paris, France
So everyone told us that the French were complete assholes. The first day we got there, we learned that this was just not true. While exploring a menu board outside a small cafe, one of the waiters came out, bestowed kisses on all of us, held our hands, and walked us to a table inside.
We then learned that this was due to the fact that the French government had actually done an ad campaign telling the citizens of Paris to be nicer to tourists. They even sent police officers around to enforce this niceness. Interesting way to promote the tourist industry.
Our first stop in France was at Versailles. It was...justifying to say the least. This was where the French Revolution came to a head. After walking around Versailles for an entire day, I completely understand their motives! Kaare and I estimated that if one was to rebuild the palace in this day and age - including the grounds, the architecture, the paintings, the carvings, and the bloody gold - it would definitely be somewhere in the trillions of dollars. No exaggeration. The revolution happened because the people were fed up with the amount of money that Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were spending. Antoinette had her own village on the grounds of Versailles, put aside for those days that she wanted to feel like a "peasant". She actually had an entire village built for her whims. If the revolutionaries were worried about their justifiability, I'm sure that the march through the grounds of Versailles on the way to the palace swept away any and all doubts.
I'd also heard that the Louvre was just too big to see in one visit, and that you needed at least three days to see it properly. "Pfft," I thought, "people just don't know how to manage their time!" Having now been there, I can safely say that the Louvre is about the size of Canada. A couple of the paintings there were actually two stories tall. It is one of the most amazing museums I have ever been to, and I would suggest that everyone put it on their list of things to see before they die. Because it would be very easy to get lost and die inside the Louvre.
The traffic in Paris is ridiculous. This one time, we watched seven lanes converge into one without the use of road lines, traffic lights, or street signs. The Arc de Triomphe is encased with a twelve lane roundabout. And pedestrians? You must be joking. Or at least the highways department of Paris must have been joking when they put crosswalks on the road. It's just a way for drivers to hit more people all at once. We call it violence, they call it efficiency.
Finally, to sum up, I saw my first dead person in Paris. Well, at least what we thought was a dead person at the time. She was in fact a drunk in the subway that had somehow managed to pass out head first through the bars of the chairs. But I definitely thought she was dead for a solid ten minutes.
Quote of the Day:
In Kaare's guidebook for the Middle East, there is a section on Iraq. In this section of Iraq, there is a heading that says "Solo Traveling". The advice it gives on solo traveling in Iraq?
You must be mad.
That is all it says.
We then learned that this was due to the fact that the French government had actually done an ad campaign telling the citizens of Paris to be nicer to tourists. They even sent police officers around to enforce this niceness. Interesting way to promote the tourist industry.
Our first stop in France was at Versailles. It was...justifying to say the least. This was where the French Revolution came to a head. After walking around Versailles for an entire day, I completely understand their motives! Kaare and I estimated that if one was to rebuild the palace in this day and age - including the grounds, the architecture, the paintings, the carvings, and the bloody gold - it would definitely be somewhere in the trillions of dollars. No exaggeration. The revolution happened because the people were fed up with the amount of money that Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were spending. Antoinette had her own village on the grounds of Versailles, put aside for those days that she wanted to feel like a "peasant". She actually had an entire village built for her whims. If the revolutionaries were worried about their justifiability, I'm sure that the march through the grounds of Versailles on the way to the palace swept away any and all doubts.
I'd also heard that the Louvre was just too big to see in one visit, and that you needed at least three days to see it properly. "Pfft," I thought, "people just don't know how to manage their time!" Having now been there, I can safely say that the Louvre is about the size of Canada. A couple of the paintings there were actually two stories tall. It is one of the most amazing museums I have ever been to, and I would suggest that everyone put it on their list of things to see before they die. Because it would be very easy to get lost and die inside the Louvre.
The traffic in Paris is ridiculous. This one time, we watched seven lanes converge into one without the use of road lines, traffic lights, or street signs. The Arc de Triomphe is encased with a twelve lane roundabout. And pedestrians? You must be joking. Or at least the highways department of Paris must have been joking when they put crosswalks on the road. It's just a way for drivers to hit more people all at once. We call it violence, they call it efficiency.
Finally, to sum up, I saw my first dead person in Paris. Well, at least what we thought was a dead person at the time. She was in fact a drunk in the subway that had somehow managed to pass out head first through the bars of the chairs. But I definitely thought she was dead for a solid ten minutes.
Quote of the Day:
In Kaare's guidebook for the Middle East, there is a section on Iraq. In this section of Iraq, there is a heading that says "Solo Traveling". The advice it gives on solo traveling in Iraq?
You must be mad.
That is all it says.
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
Brussels, Belgium
Wow...where do I begin? Well, how about by calling myself lots of names because I lied about keeping up with everyone once we got to Belgium. I know you're all getting a good creative work out thinking of all those wonderful things you'd like to be doing to me right now. In fact, one person (who will remain anonymous) threatened to send me anthrax via postcard. Another person (who will remain anonymous...*cough* Aunty Julie *cough*) threatened to don a Ninja Turtles costume and come searching for me. By the way, my coughing back there was a direct result of the afore mentioned anthrax. Thanks to all my fans. Your death threats really touched my heart.
So what can I say about Belgium? Well, some hosebeast on the plane told us that it sucked. Were I able to find her again, I'd punch her for lying. But she was British, so I won't hold it against her.
What she failed to mention was the fact that Brussels is a wonderful city. It just doesn't make any sense.
Item 1: There is no Belgium government right now. Not even kidding. In fact, Belgium has broken it's own record with 200 days of no government. Apparently the French and the Dutch can't agree on anything. Surprised?
Item 2: Although there is no government, there is, apparently, a King. Okay...say it with me: What?
Item 3: One time, we were riding the Metro, and it started going backwards. As in, we stopped, and then the train went back in the direction it had just came from. Yet somehow, we ended up at a different station.
Item 4: They celebrate Saint Nicholas Day on Dec 6th. Now, over hundreds of years, this tradition found its way to the rest of Europe, then to North America, where it got transformed and amalgamated with Christmas, giving us Santa Clause (Saint Nick) on the 25th of December. This in turn worked its way back to Belgium. Belgians now celebrate both Saint Nicholas Day and Christmas Day, without noticing the fact that Saint Nicholas and Santa Claus are the same person.
Item 5: Sometimes, buses just don't come. Other times, the same bus will come three times in a row. And I mean in a row. Lined up, one right after the other.
Item 6: People who are driving straight do not have the right of way. People who are turning right have the right of way. All of the time. So if you were driving down Highway 97, and someone was turning right on to the highway from Pandosy, you would have to stop and let them go first. Even if your light was green and theirs was red.
Item 7: Sultans of Kebab. It just makes no sense how good the Kebabs were at that place. What really doesn't make sense is why Kebabs haven't migrated to Canada yet.
Item 8: The average price for a bottle of wine is about $5. If you spend $10 on a bottle, you're living large. Tequila costs about $15. My Mom really liked the country.
Item 9: Pub Quiz. For those of you who haven't heard about it yet, Pub Quiz takes place at the Irish Bar every Monday night. There are eight rounds, ten questions per round. It happens during happy hour. The three teams with the highest scores win prizes. What about this doesn't make sense? There is no guarantee that the answers they give you are correct. So even if you win, by their count, you've lost. Also, the questions vary from the astoundingly easy (what are the colours of the rainbow?) to the ridiculously hard (Botswana became independent in what month of 1966?).
Item 10: To get to Brussels from the airport, you have to go through one of the dodgiest red light districts I've ever seen. Are they purposely trying to thwart tourism? Maybe the lack of government is going to their heads...
Well folks, apart from all that, I have to say that Belgium was great! Christmas with the family was heart warming, of course, and seeing Mom and Kate again was wonderful. We did a couple side trips from Brussels, but those are different cities, so they get new blog entries! Yay! More for you to read!!! Now please don't send anthrax...
Fun Fact of the Day:
It's about Paris, so you'll have to wait until I write that blog.
Quote of the Day:
Deanna was trying to call her Mom on Christmas, but had misplaced the new phone number. My advice?
Angie: Why don't you try looking her up on canada411.com? Do you know her last name?
Apparently, I'm a genius. It's just a bloody good thing I didn't decide to major in biology or genetics...
So what can I say about Belgium? Well, some hosebeast on the plane told us that it sucked. Were I able to find her again, I'd punch her for lying. But she was British, so I won't hold it against her.
What she failed to mention was the fact that Brussels is a wonderful city. It just doesn't make any sense.
Item 1: There is no Belgium government right now. Not even kidding. In fact, Belgium has broken it's own record with 200 days of no government. Apparently the French and the Dutch can't agree on anything. Surprised?
Item 2: Although there is no government, there is, apparently, a King. Okay...say it with me: What?
Item 3: One time, we were riding the Metro, and it started going backwards. As in, we stopped, and then the train went back in the direction it had just came from. Yet somehow, we ended up at a different station.
Item 4: They celebrate Saint Nicholas Day on Dec 6th. Now, over hundreds of years, this tradition found its way to the rest of Europe, then to North America, where it got transformed and amalgamated with Christmas, giving us Santa Clause (Saint Nick) on the 25th of December. This in turn worked its way back to Belgium. Belgians now celebrate both Saint Nicholas Day and Christmas Day, without noticing the fact that Saint Nicholas and Santa Claus are the same person.
Item 5: Sometimes, buses just don't come. Other times, the same bus will come three times in a row. And I mean in a row. Lined up, one right after the other.
Item 6: People who are driving straight do not have the right of way. People who are turning right have the right of way. All of the time. So if you were driving down Highway 97, and someone was turning right on to the highway from Pandosy, you would have to stop and let them go first. Even if your light was green and theirs was red.
Item 7: Sultans of Kebab. It just makes no sense how good the Kebabs were at that place. What really doesn't make sense is why Kebabs haven't migrated to Canada yet.
Item 8: The average price for a bottle of wine is about $5. If you spend $10 on a bottle, you're living large. Tequila costs about $15. My Mom really liked the country.
Item 9: Pub Quiz. For those of you who haven't heard about it yet, Pub Quiz takes place at the Irish Bar every Monday night. There are eight rounds, ten questions per round. It happens during happy hour. The three teams with the highest scores win prizes. What about this doesn't make sense? There is no guarantee that the answers they give you are correct. So even if you win, by their count, you've lost. Also, the questions vary from the astoundingly easy (what are the colours of the rainbow?) to the ridiculously hard (Botswana became independent in what month of 1966?).
Item 10: To get to Brussels from the airport, you have to go through one of the dodgiest red light districts I've ever seen. Are they purposely trying to thwart tourism? Maybe the lack of government is going to their heads...
Well folks, apart from all that, I have to say that Belgium was great! Christmas with the family was heart warming, of course, and seeing Mom and Kate again was wonderful. We did a couple side trips from Brussels, but those are different cities, so they get new blog entries! Yay! More for you to read!!! Now please don't send anthrax...
Fun Fact of the Day:
It's about Paris, so you'll have to wait until I write that blog.
Quote of the Day:
Deanna was trying to call her Mom on Christmas, but had misplaced the new phone number. My advice?
Angie: Why don't you try looking her up on canada411.com? Do you know her last name?
Apparently, I'm a genius. It's just a bloody good thing I didn't decide to major in biology or genetics...
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
Macadam Reverie
today
my road is made of cobblestone
jigsaw crosswalks
the puzzle piece pathways
of people long gone
with every stone
I think about them
and me
and the way we aren't so different
building life sized jigsaws
of what we're given
piecing together to get to the future
trying to produce the pictures
we see in our dreams
they built the roads
so with no roads left to build
I'm trying to make my own path
but all that seems left, to me
is tarmac
smooth lines
paving over jigsaw dreams
but today
my road is made of puzzle pieces
cobblestone highways
that let me believe
in the people long gone
let me believe
that I'm not so different
because I can see
that someone else
had jigsaw dreams
my road is made of cobblestone
jigsaw crosswalks
the puzzle piece pathways
of people long gone
with every stone
I think about them
and me
and the way we aren't so different
building life sized jigsaws
of what we're given
piecing together to get to the future
trying to produce the pictures
we see in our dreams
they built the roads
so with no roads left to build
I'm trying to make my own path
but all that seems left, to me
is tarmac
smooth lines
paving over jigsaw dreams
but today
my road is made of puzzle pieces
cobblestone highways
that let me believe
in the people long gone
let me believe
that I'm not so different
because I can see
that someone else
had jigsaw dreams
Friday, 30 November 2007
Helsinki, Finland
We have just spent over seventeen hours in transit. I am two coffees on stuttered sleep into the next day. My thoughts dart like hummingbirds. Tangible, numerous; easy to see but impossible to grasp. I suspect, that were I to catch one, it would make about as much lasting sense as a meth freak. Gibberish doomed to deteriorate. Caffeine tends to turn my insides into chaotic mish mash. Especially now that I've agreed to the third cup. My innards shall be mashed potatoes, cigarettes are my gravy, Oxford the dish that this feast is served on. And so, erratically and potato-like, I remember Finland.
Fitting, actually, as potatoes are one of Jessica's favourite foods. She claims she use to get drunk on them. I believe her.
The house of Jessica and Jan (pronounced 'yawn') is like a prototype for the House of Awesome. A miniature prototype. A shoebox diorama held together with paintings, puppets, posters and utter disarray. Well, not so much disarray as functional chaos. Animators by profession, their workday start time amounted to a shoulder shrug. As in: "What time do you have to work today?" Reply: shoulder shrug. They are artists from the core.
After spending almost a month in the Baltics, surrounded by Old Towns and the ancient, Helsinki was almost refreshing in its newness. The architecture had obviously been planned with aesthetics in mind, as it was utterly gorgeous. Also, probably one of the best planned public transit systems I've ever seen. However, the roads are ridiculous to try and navigate. It took Kaare and I about twenty minutes to walk from the market square to Jessica and Jan's apartment. On the third day there, we realized that it should have only taken us about two minutes. I felt like a giant ass. But hey, I've felt dumber over more important things than that!
The market was so sweet. Imagine the Granville Island Market on speed. Vendors everywhere selling everything from bulk olives to fish eggs. One of my favourite new dishes being mashed potatoes with fish eggs. Amazingly good! And we also ate horse. And reindeer. Dear Rudolph: the end. Sorry kids...Rudolph's nose didn't save him this time. It was actually really good. Extremely salty. Sorry to all the veggies out there, I'll stop talking about it now. Well, one more thing: Yummmmmm.......!
I think one of my favourite parts of Finland was Soumenlinna. Oh yeah, just you try pronouncing that one. We'll hold a conference call contest to see who gets the closest. Anyways, Soumenlinna is an island just off the coast of Helsinki. It was about a fifteen minute ferry ride, the price of which was included in our tram ticket, proof of Finland's superior public transit. The island was beautiful. We spent almost four hours wandering around: in ruins, on the shore, over rocks, and down those rickety wooden staircases that I've always associated with the ocean off of Long Beach. And when we went for lunch, I had a fish stew with a tomato base. Yup, tomatoes. I've decided that if you can manifest things, then you must be able to de-manifest things. So no more tomato allergy for Angie! I hope. I haven't had the guts to try fresh ones yet. Plus I don't really trust the hospital systems of the countries that we've been in. And I don't think Kaare would be quite as good with an allergic reaction as he was at fixing Jessica's arm WHEN HE BROKE IT!!!
Don't worry, that happened in Thailand! Not in Finland. Although I don't think Jessica will ever let him live it down. Much to my entertainment. Sorry for the heart attack I must have just given you Mom.
Anyways, that's about it for now folks! We're alive in Oxford right now, and we head to Brussels later this evening. I will hopefully be able to keep in better contact with everyone! Look forward to long and detailed emails folks...providing that Marty has internet that he doesn't mind me using as crack. Lets hear it for internet withdraws! (Hooray)
Quote of the Day:
I was wearing my ewok touque and bouncing one of the balls on the end of the idiot ties off my head. Kaare gave me a look (you know..."a look"), and I explained that I was building up the bounce ratio. His reply...
"Did you calculate that using your retard powers?"
Alcohol Fact of the Day:
In Finland, they have Fish Vodka. That would be Fisherman Friends Vodka. The menthol is so strong that you don't even taste the alcohol. It's crazy.
Fitting, actually, as potatoes are one of Jessica's favourite foods. She claims she use to get drunk on them. I believe her.
The house of Jessica and Jan (pronounced 'yawn') is like a prototype for the House of Awesome. A miniature prototype. A shoebox diorama held together with paintings, puppets, posters and utter disarray. Well, not so much disarray as functional chaos. Animators by profession, their workday start time amounted to a shoulder shrug. As in: "What time do you have to work today?" Reply: shoulder shrug. They are artists from the core.
After spending almost a month in the Baltics, surrounded by Old Towns and the ancient, Helsinki was almost refreshing in its newness. The architecture had obviously been planned with aesthetics in mind, as it was utterly gorgeous. Also, probably one of the best planned public transit systems I've ever seen. However, the roads are ridiculous to try and navigate. It took Kaare and I about twenty minutes to walk from the market square to Jessica and Jan's apartment. On the third day there, we realized that it should have only taken us about two minutes. I felt like a giant ass. But hey, I've felt dumber over more important things than that!
The market was so sweet. Imagine the Granville Island Market on speed. Vendors everywhere selling everything from bulk olives to fish eggs. One of my favourite new dishes being mashed potatoes with fish eggs. Amazingly good! And we also ate horse. And reindeer. Dear Rudolph: the end. Sorry kids...Rudolph's nose didn't save him this time. It was actually really good. Extremely salty. Sorry to all the veggies out there, I'll stop talking about it now. Well, one more thing: Yummmmmm.......!
I think one of my favourite parts of Finland was Soumenlinna. Oh yeah, just you try pronouncing that one. We'll hold a conference call contest to see who gets the closest. Anyways, Soumenlinna is an island just off the coast of Helsinki. It was about a fifteen minute ferry ride, the price of which was included in our tram ticket, proof of Finland's superior public transit. The island was beautiful. We spent almost four hours wandering around: in ruins, on the shore, over rocks, and down those rickety wooden staircases that I've always associated with the ocean off of Long Beach. And when we went for lunch, I had a fish stew with a tomato base. Yup, tomatoes. I've decided that if you can manifest things, then you must be able to de-manifest things. So no more tomato allergy for Angie! I hope. I haven't had the guts to try fresh ones yet. Plus I don't really trust the hospital systems of the countries that we've been in. And I don't think Kaare would be quite as good with an allergic reaction as he was at fixing Jessica's arm WHEN HE BROKE IT!!!
Don't worry, that happened in Thailand! Not in Finland. Although I don't think Jessica will ever let him live it down. Much to my entertainment. Sorry for the heart attack I must have just given you Mom.
Anyways, that's about it for now folks! We're alive in Oxford right now, and we head to Brussels later this evening. I will hopefully be able to keep in better contact with everyone! Look forward to long and detailed emails folks...providing that Marty has internet that he doesn't mind me using as crack. Lets hear it for internet withdraws! (Hooray)
Quote of the Day:
I was wearing my ewok touque and bouncing one of the balls on the end of the idiot ties off my head. Kaare gave me a look (you know..."a look"), and I explained that I was building up the bounce ratio. His reply...
"Did you calculate that using your retard powers?"
Alcohol Fact of the Day:
In Finland, they have Fish Vodka. That would be Fisherman Friends Vodka. The menthol is so strong that you don't even taste the alcohol. It's crazy.
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