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...
Showing posts with label Kebabs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kebabs. Show all posts
Wednesday, 2 January 2008
Tuesday, 6 November 2007
Auschwitz/Warsaw, Poland
"Arbeit Macht Frei"
Work Will Set You Free
The sign above the gates of Auschwitz I. Ironic and morbid to say the least.
I'm not going to talk about Auschwitz except to say three things:
1. There will not be any pictures ever posted of our trip there. I took my camera with me, and then just felt too wrong about taking any pictures. I actually felt strange watching other people take pictures. Like, "Oooh, thousands of people were executed against this wall...lets remember it in personnal photographic digital history for ever!" Gross.
2. I think alot of healing has happened at Auschwitz. I'm not going to downplay it, there were definitely some parts of it that sobered me. The crimes against humanity made tangible. But for the most part, I think the fact that so many people have been there since 1945 bringing peace, mourning, love and healing, that alot of the negative imprinting has been washed away.
3. I learned that I am able to pray. Nick, I said one for your family.
That's all I'm going to say about Auschwitz. If you really want to know what the experience was like, then go there. I think it's a pretty personnal thing. Kaare and I pretty much didn't talk to eachother the entire time we were there.
Moving on to happier things...
Well...longer things. Longer, like our trip to Vilnius, Lithuania. We went to the train station in Krakow, only to find that we had to take a four hour train to Warsaw. And then a TEN HOUR BUS RIDE from Warsaw to Vilnius. The next day. At 11pm. Yup. 11pm. We get into Vilnius at 9am on Nov 8th. So much balls.
The plus side is that our hostel in Warsaw is awesome. As soon as we got checked into the hostel, we decided to go out for kebabs. Remember kebabs? Oh God...so much greatness. Anyways, on our way out we asked some people at the front communal area if they knew of a place to get a good kebab. This launched a ten minute debate between a balding English ex-pat and a special ops-looking Texan grad student. Apparently, we have some kebab experts in the house. Represent.
This in turn led to another debate about whether or not Polish cab drivers try to scam you. Mr. English funny guy is completely convinced that they do. Our American political science major thinks that they don't. This could be because he is one scary looking mother fucker. No joke. Bigger than Kaare and I combined, covered in tatoos and smart enough to stop a speeding train using his oversized brain power. The guy is a combination of those crazy war journalists (you should hear his stories) and Doogie Howser. If Doogie Howser was interested in political terrorism in refugee camps. He reminded me of just how little I know about the world.
Back to the main point: Kebabs. Oh Lordy...kebabs. They sent us down the street about a block. There we found a four foot tall, two foot wide, rotating stack of chicken meat. The girl there was slicing it off with what appeared to be a saber. And they were the best kebabs we've had so far. I'm still full two hours later. Although, we hear that the best kebabs anywhere are in Istanbul. Kaare and I have decided to do the 2007/2008 kebab world tour. We will be making a travel guide to the best kebabs in Europe, based on a very scientific rating system. Our stomachs.
Th-th-th-that's all for now folks!
Traveller tip of the day: book your hostel in advance! If you do not do this, you will end up wandering the streets of Warsaw, in the freezing rain, 22kg packs on your back, not even able to smoke because you're so cold, getting turned down at every hostel you can possibly find on the map. I don't care if you're in India. If you don't book in advance, this will be your fate. Warsaw, rain, wandering.
Quote of the day:
Scene: after kebabs, we decide to go out to find some beer to bring back to the hostel.
Angie (asking people at the front entrance): Do you guys know where we can find a liquor store?
Polish guy with a huge beard and smurf toque: This must be your first time to Poland.
Kaare (laughing): Haha, no no no. We know that there must be tons of liquor stores around here, we're just looking for the closest one.
Giant Polish Smurf: Poland IS a liquor store.
I like this country.
Work Will Set You Free
The sign above the gates of Auschwitz I. Ironic and morbid to say the least.
I'm not going to talk about Auschwitz except to say three things:
1. There will not be any pictures ever posted of our trip there. I took my camera with me, and then just felt too wrong about taking any pictures. I actually felt strange watching other people take pictures. Like, "Oooh, thousands of people were executed against this wall...lets remember it in personnal photographic digital history for ever!" Gross.
2. I think alot of healing has happened at Auschwitz. I'm not going to downplay it, there were definitely some parts of it that sobered me. The crimes against humanity made tangible. But for the most part, I think the fact that so many people have been there since 1945 bringing peace, mourning, love and healing, that alot of the negative imprinting has been washed away.
3. I learned that I am able to pray. Nick, I said one for your family.
That's all I'm going to say about Auschwitz. If you really want to know what the experience was like, then go there. I think it's a pretty personnal thing. Kaare and I pretty much didn't talk to eachother the entire time we were there.
Moving on to happier things...
Well...longer things. Longer, like our trip to Vilnius, Lithuania. We went to the train station in Krakow, only to find that we had to take a four hour train to Warsaw. And then a TEN HOUR BUS RIDE from Warsaw to Vilnius. The next day. At 11pm. Yup. 11pm. We get into Vilnius at 9am on Nov 8th. So much balls.
The plus side is that our hostel in Warsaw is awesome. As soon as we got checked into the hostel, we decided to go out for kebabs. Remember kebabs? Oh God...so much greatness. Anyways, on our way out we asked some people at the front communal area if they knew of a place to get a good kebab. This launched a ten minute debate between a balding English ex-pat and a special ops-looking Texan grad student. Apparently, we have some kebab experts in the house. Represent.
This in turn led to another debate about whether or not Polish cab drivers try to scam you. Mr. English funny guy is completely convinced that they do. Our American political science major thinks that they don't. This could be because he is one scary looking mother fucker. No joke. Bigger than Kaare and I combined, covered in tatoos and smart enough to stop a speeding train using his oversized brain power. The guy is a combination of those crazy war journalists (you should hear his stories) and Doogie Howser. If Doogie Howser was interested in political terrorism in refugee camps. He reminded me of just how little I know about the world.
Back to the main point: Kebabs. Oh Lordy...kebabs. They sent us down the street about a block. There we found a four foot tall, two foot wide, rotating stack of chicken meat. The girl there was slicing it off with what appeared to be a saber. And they were the best kebabs we've had so far. I'm still full two hours later. Although, we hear that the best kebabs anywhere are in Istanbul. Kaare and I have decided to do the 2007/2008 kebab world tour. We will be making a travel guide to the best kebabs in Europe, based on a very scientific rating system. Our stomachs.
Th-th-th-that's all for now folks!
Traveller tip of the day: book your hostel in advance! If you do not do this, you will end up wandering the streets of Warsaw, in the freezing rain, 22kg packs on your back, not even able to smoke because you're so cold, getting turned down at every hostel you can possibly find on the map. I don't care if you're in India. If you don't book in advance, this will be your fate. Warsaw, rain, wandering.
Quote of the day:
Scene: after kebabs, we decide to go out to find some beer to bring back to the hostel.
Angie (asking people at the front entrance): Do you guys know where we can find a liquor store?
Polish guy with a huge beard and smurf toque: This must be your first time to Poland.
Kaare (laughing): Haha, no no no. We know that there must be tons of liquor stores around here, we're just looking for the closest one.
Giant Polish Smurf: Poland IS a liquor store.
I like this country.
Sunday, 4 November 2007
Krakow, Poland
Absinthe party at the fly honey warehouse!!!
That's right, I said absinthe. The real stuff. The wormwood content being measured in mg/L. We were drinking 30mg/L last night. It was called Mr. Jekyll. I love my life. This blog is going to be as disjointed as our night was.
The absinthe den that our hostel is situated next door to:
I don't even know what it's called. The decor is late 1800's Victorian era. Smoke filled. Dim lighting. Chandeliers that only partially work. Playing 30's jazz music. Nana-style hand crocheted table cloths. Did I mention the ABSINTHE!!!
About three drinks in, we're already walking the line of sanity. Kaare is wearing the biggest shit eating grin I have ever seen on his face. Before anyone gets excited, there were no hallucinations. But definite craziness.
Around now we meet Cameron and Pol. Cam is from Texas. My favourite part of running into Americans is telling them that Steven Colbert is running for president. They lose their minds. Pol (I think his real name was Luke) is originally from Krakow, but moved to the States at age 9 to go to school. Now he's living in Krakow again with his wife and little girl. Cam was just on a week long trip to visit him. Pol is short for Poland. The same way we call Alex: Alabama.
Another absinthe and we're off to the jazz bar. Downstairs, WWII brick basement. Real jazz. Upright bass, keyboard, trumpet, sax, and guitar. On the way, Pol teaches us Polish phrases. Don't remember any of them. We must have walked 2km to get to this bar. Pol kept saying it was close. We drink Polish beer. We have no idea how to get back to our hostel. We meet some cats from Dublin, and one guy from Ontario. I think his name was Rick. Don't know what happened to Rick. Pol is fuckered and, for some God unknown reason, in charge of leading us around.
The set is over, 2:30am. We embark on an epic journey to find kebabs. Kebabs appear to be a favoured Polish fast food. If you've listened to the Patton Oswald sketch about putting all your favourite foods in one bowl, mashing them up, and shoving them down your throat, then you have an idea of what kebabs are. A piece of bread topped with meat, cabbage (lots of cabbage), pickles, and occasionally some vegetables. Between perogies and kebabs, I'm pretty sure we've both gained about 10lbs.
3am. We do not find kebabs. However, we do find another bar. Kaare and I have run out of money at this point. Cam is buying our drinks. I set out from the bar to find an ATM.
3:30am. I am completely, utterly, and hopelessly lost. I have no idea how to find the guys or the bar or our hostel. I decide to wander aimlessly until sunup when I will be able to find an open store that can hopefully sell me a map.
3:45am. As I am wandering aimlessly, I notice that I am walking past the bar where the guys are. No word of a lie. I join up with them again, and we decide to head home. Pol and Cam are nice enough to walk us back to our hostel, as we literally have no idea where it is.
4am. We are lost again. Kaare and Pol are both way to drunk to read the map. Not lying about that. They actually can't figure out which way is up. They start talking to some random dude walking by. I start skipping off on my own, some how figuring that if I just walk, I will eventually find the hostel. This is a bad idea. Kaare and Pol send Cam to make sure that I don't skip off into some dark alley and get murdered. Kaare says that at this point I was making out with Cam. I don't believe him. I have photographic proof that Kaare was trying to make out with Cam. So who do you believe? The absinthe affected opinions of one man, or my solid photographic proof? Probably both.
Noon. Today. We have slept through breakfast. Kaare is in a very bad state. I have no idea how we got back to the hostel. I did somehow manage to take out my contacts, put my money belt under my pillow, and put my pajamas on (backwards). I have now drank about 2L of juice. My brain hurts.
And now it's 3pm! I'm blogging, Kaare is captain puking (hopefully not on my bed, but I'm too scared to look), and I'm about to go explore Krakow!
Morbid fact of the day: We are going to Auschwitz tomorrow. I feel strange about turning one of the most devastating and horrifying places in history into a tourist attraction. But as we are so close, I feel that we can't miss it. I think it's going to be a very sobering experience. The museum doesn't allow people 14yrs and younger. Keenan wouldn't be able to go. Scary.
Quote of the day:
Kaare: if Krakow was a video game, it would be Castlevania.
That's right, I said absinthe. The real stuff. The wormwood content being measured in mg/L. We were drinking 30mg/L last night. It was called Mr. Jekyll. I love my life. This blog is going to be as disjointed as our night was.
The absinthe den that our hostel is situated next door to:
I don't even know what it's called. The decor is late 1800's Victorian era. Smoke filled. Dim lighting. Chandeliers that only partially work. Playing 30's jazz music. Nana-style hand crocheted table cloths. Did I mention the ABSINTHE!!!
About three drinks in, we're already walking the line of sanity. Kaare is wearing the biggest shit eating grin I have ever seen on his face. Before anyone gets excited, there were no hallucinations. But definite craziness.
Around now we meet Cameron and Pol. Cam is from Texas. My favourite part of running into Americans is telling them that Steven Colbert is running for president. They lose their minds. Pol (I think his real name was Luke) is originally from Krakow, but moved to the States at age 9 to go to school. Now he's living in Krakow again with his wife and little girl. Cam was just on a week long trip to visit him. Pol is short for Poland. The same way we call Alex: Alabama.
Another absinthe and we're off to the jazz bar. Downstairs, WWII brick basement. Real jazz. Upright bass, keyboard, trumpet, sax, and guitar. On the way, Pol teaches us Polish phrases. Don't remember any of them. We must have walked 2km to get to this bar. Pol kept saying it was close. We drink Polish beer. We have no idea how to get back to our hostel. We meet some cats from Dublin, and one guy from Ontario. I think his name was Rick. Don't know what happened to Rick. Pol is fuckered and, for some God unknown reason, in charge of leading us around.
The set is over, 2:30am. We embark on an epic journey to find kebabs. Kebabs appear to be a favoured Polish fast food. If you've listened to the Patton Oswald sketch about putting all your favourite foods in one bowl, mashing them up, and shoving them down your throat, then you have an idea of what kebabs are. A piece of bread topped with meat, cabbage (lots of cabbage), pickles, and occasionally some vegetables. Between perogies and kebabs, I'm pretty sure we've both gained about 10lbs.
3am. We do not find kebabs. However, we do find another bar. Kaare and I have run out of money at this point. Cam is buying our drinks. I set out from the bar to find an ATM.
3:30am. I am completely, utterly, and hopelessly lost. I have no idea how to find the guys or the bar or our hostel. I decide to wander aimlessly until sunup when I will be able to find an open store that can hopefully sell me a map.
3:45am. As I am wandering aimlessly, I notice that I am walking past the bar where the guys are. No word of a lie. I join up with them again, and we decide to head home. Pol and Cam are nice enough to walk us back to our hostel, as we literally have no idea where it is.
4am. We are lost again. Kaare and Pol are both way to drunk to read the map. Not lying about that. They actually can't figure out which way is up. They start talking to some random dude walking by. I start skipping off on my own, some how figuring that if I just walk, I will eventually find the hostel. This is a bad idea. Kaare and Pol send Cam to make sure that I don't skip off into some dark alley and get murdered. Kaare says that at this point I was making out with Cam. I don't believe him. I have photographic proof that Kaare was trying to make out with Cam. So who do you believe? The absinthe affected opinions of one man, or my solid photographic proof? Probably both.
Noon. Today. We have slept through breakfast. Kaare is in a very bad state. I have no idea how we got back to the hostel. I did somehow manage to take out my contacts, put my money belt under my pillow, and put my pajamas on (backwards). I have now drank about 2L of juice. My brain hurts.
And now it's 3pm! I'm blogging, Kaare is captain puking (hopefully not on my bed, but I'm too scared to look), and I'm about to go explore Krakow!
Morbid fact of the day: We are going to Auschwitz tomorrow. I feel strange about turning one of the most devastating and horrifying places in history into a tourist attraction. But as we are so close, I feel that we can't miss it. I think it's going to be a very sobering experience. The museum doesn't allow people 14yrs and younger. Keenan wouldn't be able to go. Scary.
Quote of the day:
Kaare: if Krakow was a video game, it would be Castlevania.
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