Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Correction
My parents just pointed out to me that I forgot to actually give you Rosalie and Sam's blog addresses. I have added Sam's into the post, and will post Rosalie's as soon as I find it.
Monday, September 28, 2009
A free man in Paris
I have shirked my blogging duties this past week, and so have much to write about and little time to write. However, before I begin I feel the need to add a brief note about my travelling companions, for those of you who don’t know them or have become confused by their random entrances and exits from my blog.
1) Rosalie Bateson- Rosalie and I have been neighbors at school for two years in a row, and this quarter we are both studying in Spain (she in Madrid and I in Salamanca). Before we left the States, I flew to North Carolina to visit Rosalie and her family. Responsible for much of the planning for the first part of the trip (particularly everything having to do with trains), Rosalie joined me for the Czech Republic, Switzerland, and half of my time in Paris. Her program started on Thursday, so she could not join me for my expedition to the UK, but because Salamanca and Madrid are relatively close, I will hopefully be seeing her occasionally this fall. For an in depth, blow-by-blow account of our travels together, visit Rosalie’s blog at
2) Kathy Cooper- Kathy lived with Rosalie and I in Slav Dom last year and graduated last Spring. She is currently working on constructing wind turbines and microhydroelectric plants in the Philippines, but was able to join us for the Czech Republic and Switzerland as she took the long route from the U.S. to her job.
3) Sam Wai- Sam is studying in Oxford this fall, and came over for her program early to meet Rosalie and I in Paris. Unfortunately, she and Rosalie only overlapped in France for a matter of hours, but Sam and I spent two more days in Paris after Rosalie left and then went to London for two days. Her program starts today, and after helping her move down to Oxford I will return to London for another day and then fly to Madrid to begin orientation for my program. For another perspective on Sam and my time in Paris, visit her blog at http://s-wai.blogspot.com
Anyway, back to where I left off about Paris.
Paris is a lovely city. Absolutely fabulous. It is picturesque, inviting, filled with incredible food, and easily navigable by foot or metro. It’s only two draw backs are 1) that it’s expensive and 2) that its citizenry speaks French. I overcame the first problem by spending the week with John Watson’s (a friend of mine from freshman year) parents in their beautiful and spacious flat near the Arch de Triumph, and by assuring myself that life is short and that it would be a long time until I made it back to Paris. The second problem I overcame, or rather failed miserably to overcome by making a fool of myself with what little French I remembered from high school and guiltily resorting to English whenever someone else spoke it.
Together with Rosalie and then with Sam Wai, and with no little help from Betsy, John’s mom who is an enthusiastic tour guide and an avid art historian, I toured the ins and outs of Paris, falling more in love with the city with every day. The highlights are as follows:
Sunday- visiting a bustling and distinctly not touristy open air market, taking a stroll to the Seine, and watching Rosalie be Julia Childs as she cooked “chicken with herbs” and “potatoes with other herbs” for dinner. It should be noted that my green beans, which I lovingly steamed with the skill of a true chef made the meal.
Monday- 6 hours in the Louvre, a walk through Luxumberg Gardens and the Latin Quarter, and some incredible Moroccan food with Betsy and elder John (John’s father). Though I list it as a highlight, I would like to caution that one should not spend six hours at the Louvre, unless one wants to collapse from exhaustion and art overdose. But Rosalie and I are apparently masochists, and couldn’t help but add on to the perfect three hour tour that Betsy outlined for us.
Tuesday- St. Chappelle (an incredible stained glass filled church near Notre Dame), Napoleon’s tomb, and the military history museum at Invalides. Art museums are pretty cool, but they just can’t stand up to rooms full of armor and giant swords. It was any guy’s dream (though judging from the male to female ratio in the museum, not so much a girl thing).
Wednesday- 3 hours in the Musee D’Orsay (we took Betsy’s advice about stopping this time, and enjoyed the museum significantly more than the Louvre), meeting Sam Wai and sending Rosalie off, then taking an evening stroll along the Seine all the way from one end of Paris to the other.
Thursday- strolling through cool Paris neighborhoods, shopping for second hand European clothes, eating hot chocolate at Victorias (supposedly on the list of 1000 things you should do before you die). And when I say eating, I mean eating. Half a cup was my lunch, and I wasn’t really hungry at dinner.
Friday- getting a view of the city from Mon Martre (the hill where Denis, one of the patron saints of Paris, was supposedly beheaded. He then picked up his head and carried it under his arm down off the hill. Now the hill holds a giant church, and some really cool neighborhoods), eating steak frites (apparently steak and French fries have transcended their modest American roots and become the highest of cuisine in Paris), and visiting the Paris auction house. I was going to try to buy something at the auctions, but the necklace that we saw auctioned was a little out of my price range at 76,000 euros.
So that was my time in Paris in a nut shell. It deserves far more than that, and I may ruminate on some specific points in future blogs, but I must sign off for now.
1) Rosalie Bateson- Rosalie and I have been neighbors at school for two years in a row, and this quarter we are both studying in Spain (she in Madrid and I in Salamanca). Before we left the States, I flew to North Carolina to visit Rosalie and her family. Responsible for much of the planning for the first part of the trip (particularly everything having to do with trains), Rosalie joined me for the Czech Republic, Switzerland, and half of my time in Paris. Her program started on Thursday, so she could not join me for my expedition to the UK, but because Salamanca and Madrid are relatively close, I will hopefully be seeing her occasionally this fall. For an in depth, blow-by-blow account of our travels together, visit Rosalie’s blog at
2) Kathy Cooper- Kathy lived with Rosalie and I in Slav Dom last year and graduated last Spring. She is currently working on constructing wind turbines and microhydroelectric plants in the Philippines, but was able to join us for the Czech Republic and Switzerland as she took the long route from the U.S. to her job.
3) Sam Wai- Sam is studying in Oxford this fall, and came over for her program early to meet Rosalie and I in Paris. Unfortunately, she and Rosalie only overlapped in France for a matter of hours, but Sam and I spent two more days in Paris after Rosalie left and then went to London for two days. Her program starts today, and after helping her move down to Oxford I will return to London for another day and then fly to Madrid to begin orientation for my program. For another perspective on Sam and my time in Paris, visit her blog at http://s-wai.blogspot.com
Anyway, back to where I left off about Paris.
Paris is a lovely city. Absolutely fabulous. It is picturesque, inviting, filled with incredible food, and easily navigable by foot or metro. It’s only two draw backs are 1) that it’s expensive and 2) that its citizenry speaks French. I overcame the first problem by spending the week with John Watson’s (a friend of mine from freshman year) parents in their beautiful and spacious flat near the Arch de Triumph, and by assuring myself that life is short and that it would be a long time until I made it back to Paris. The second problem I overcame, or rather failed miserably to overcome by making a fool of myself with what little French I remembered from high school and guiltily resorting to English whenever someone else spoke it.
Together with Rosalie and then with Sam Wai, and with no little help from Betsy, John’s mom who is an enthusiastic tour guide and an avid art historian, I toured the ins and outs of Paris, falling more in love with the city with every day. The highlights are as follows:
Sunday- visiting a bustling and distinctly not touristy open air market, taking a stroll to the Seine, and watching Rosalie be Julia Childs as she cooked “chicken with herbs” and “potatoes with other herbs” for dinner. It should be noted that my green beans, which I lovingly steamed with the skill of a true chef made the meal.
Monday- 6 hours in the Louvre, a walk through Luxumberg Gardens and the Latin Quarter, and some incredible Moroccan food with Betsy and elder John (John’s father). Though I list it as a highlight, I would like to caution that one should not spend six hours at the Louvre, unless one wants to collapse from exhaustion and art overdose. But Rosalie and I are apparently masochists, and couldn’t help but add on to the perfect three hour tour that Betsy outlined for us.
Tuesday- St. Chappelle (an incredible stained glass filled church near Notre Dame), Napoleon’s tomb, and the military history museum at Invalides. Art museums are pretty cool, but they just can’t stand up to rooms full of armor and giant swords. It was any guy’s dream (though judging from the male to female ratio in the museum, not so much a girl thing).
Wednesday- 3 hours in the Musee D’Orsay (we took Betsy’s advice about stopping this time, and enjoyed the museum significantly more than the Louvre), meeting Sam Wai and sending Rosalie off, then taking an evening stroll along the Seine all the way from one end of Paris to the other.
Thursday- strolling through cool Paris neighborhoods, shopping for second hand European clothes, eating hot chocolate at Victorias (supposedly on the list of 1000 things you should do before you die). And when I say eating, I mean eating. Half a cup was my lunch, and I wasn’t really hungry at dinner.
Friday- getting a view of the city from Mon Martre (the hill where Denis, one of the patron saints of Paris, was supposedly beheaded. He then picked up his head and carried it under his arm down off the hill. Now the hill holds a giant church, and some really cool neighborhoods), eating steak frites (apparently steak and French fries have transcended their modest American roots and become the highest of cuisine in Paris), and visiting the Paris auction house. I was going to try to buy something at the auctions, but the necklace that we saw auctioned was a little out of my price range at 76,000 euros.
So that was my time in Paris in a nut shell. It deserves far more than that, and I may ruminate on some specific points in future blogs, but I must sign off for now.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (or more appropriately trains, trains, more trains, and automobiles)
Well, another country down. After taking Switzerland by storm, we once again moved and trained through France on our slow but inexorable way to Paris.
Leaving Gimmelwald for the largish city of Lucerne was a bit of a shock on Thursday, which perhaps made us undervalue what is otherwise a very beautiful city. Lucerne sits on a beautiful lake, is surrounded by mountains and has the orderly, quaint, yet bustling charm that seems to be so unique to Switzerland. Thursday night, we went to an incredible concert by YoYo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble in the Lucerne concert hall, which is world renowned for its architecture and almost perfect acoustics. I ignorantly went expecting a classical orchestra concert (YoYo Ma is a famous cello player, after all), but was met by a fusion of classical western European, middle eastern, African, and Asian music that blew me away.
On Friday, Rosalie and I toured some of the old city wall with Kathy, sat on a bench overlooking the city and drank a bottle of wine. In the afternoon, we bid Kathy farewell (Kathy was really only travelling with us as a stop on her way to the Philippines where she is working this fall. Still not quite sure what this work stuff is that she claims is so important, but we really enjoyed her company for the first half of our trip). Then, rather than following the usual philosophy that the fastest way to get from place to place is on direct, high speed trains, Rosalie and I laughed in the face of conventional wisdom and braved the ins and outs of just about every little train station in western Switzerland and eastern France. When we found out on Thursday that there were no available reservations for any TGVs (France’s high speed and apparently highly popular trains) from anywhere near Switzerland to Paris, we embarked on a quaint tour of backwater train stations, questionable connections, and even a train that turned into a bus halfway to its destination. Finally, many hours after leaving Lucerne, we arrived in Paris, where we met Rosalie’s friend Eva, who put us up for the night in her studio apartment.
Saturday, after more wonderful adventures in train hopping, Rosalie, Eva and I visited Reims, a city just east of Paris in the heart of champagne country. The normal routine of touring cathedrals and museums commenced (though we got to climb into the very attics of Reims’ great cathedral and get a view of the city as well as an appreciation for the ingenuity of the cathedral builders. We also managed to fit in a tour of a champagne cellar, which was very impressive (some five kilometers of cellars 12 meters underground cut into great chalk deposits) and of course came with a little champagne tasting (not that this had anything to do with the purely academic curiosity as to the making of sparkling wine that drove us to take the tour).
Leaving Gimmelwald for the largish city of Lucerne was a bit of a shock on Thursday, which perhaps made us undervalue what is otherwise a very beautiful city. Lucerne sits on a beautiful lake, is surrounded by mountains and has the orderly, quaint, yet bustling charm that seems to be so unique to Switzerland. Thursday night, we went to an incredible concert by YoYo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble in the Lucerne concert hall, which is world renowned for its architecture and almost perfect acoustics. I ignorantly went expecting a classical orchestra concert (YoYo Ma is a famous cello player, after all), but was met by a fusion of classical western European, middle eastern, African, and Asian music that blew me away.
On Friday, Rosalie and I toured some of the old city wall with Kathy, sat on a bench overlooking the city and drank a bottle of wine. In the afternoon, we bid Kathy farewell (Kathy was really only travelling with us as a stop on her way to the Philippines where she is working this fall. Still not quite sure what this work stuff is that she claims is so important, but we really enjoyed her company for the first half of our trip). Then, rather than following the usual philosophy that the fastest way to get from place to place is on direct, high speed trains, Rosalie and I laughed in the face of conventional wisdom and braved the ins and outs of just about every little train station in western Switzerland and eastern France. When we found out on Thursday that there were no available reservations for any TGVs (France’s high speed and apparently highly popular trains) from anywhere near Switzerland to Paris, we embarked on a quaint tour of backwater train stations, questionable connections, and even a train that turned into a bus halfway to its destination. Finally, many hours after leaving Lucerne, we arrived in Paris, where we met Rosalie’s friend Eva, who put us up for the night in her studio apartment.
Saturday, after more wonderful adventures in train hopping, Rosalie, Eva and I visited Reims, a city just east of Paris in the heart of champagne country. The normal routine of touring cathedrals and museums commenced (though we got to climb into the very attics of Reims’ great cathedral and get a view of the city as well as an appreciation for the ingenuity of the cathedral builders. We also managed to fit in a tour of a champagne cellar, which was very impressive (some five kilometers of cellars 12 meters underground cut into great chalk deposits) and of course came with a little champagne tasting (not that this had anything to do with the purely academic curiosity as to the making of sparkling wine that drove us to take the tour).
Simply Swiss
I’ve already discussed a little bit of Switzerland in my last post, but here is more, because Switzerland deserves more.
After briefly stopping in Interlaken, Switzerland Monday night to rest and reprovision, we three intrepid mountaineers (Rosalie, Kathy and I) ascended high into the snow covered Swiss Alps of the Berner-Oberland. Basing out of a wonderful and welcoming little hostel in the picturesque little town of Gimmelwald, we delved deep into the untamed wilderness, risking both life and limb. Take it from me, hiking through mountain valleys, admiring perfect little Swiss huts on perfect green hillsides, trying to comprehend mountain vistas and eating fondu is hard work.
Teusday afternoon, we did a warm up walk of the valley that holds Gimmelwald and about four other little towns, then ate a wonderful dinner at an out of the way restaurant. The hike was both a warm up physically and mentally, since it had very little elevation gain (something hard to come by in the Berner-Oberland region) and let us ease into the incredible views of the region and accustom the mind to such vast mountains.
On Wednesday, while Rosalie explored the waterfalls and hanging canyons around Gimmelwald, Kathy and I mounted an attempt on a nearby peak. Disdaining the gondola system that would have effortlessly whisked us to the top of a higher nearby peak (for the modest price of an arm and a leg) we set out to see the top of the world. 1400 vertical meters later, we gasped our way to our destination in time to enjoy a brief glimpse of the Eiger (ogre), Monk, and Jungfrau (young girl) through a break in the clouds that had lightly rained on us all day. The Eiger, Monk, and Jungfrau are the real peaks of the regions, clothed year-round in glaciers and more often than not clouds. Despite how we felt on the climb, Kathy and I actually ascended a sort of minor second cousin once removed of the Eiger, rather than a legitimate mountain.
Thursday morning, we bid a fond goodbye to Gimmelwald and flew off down the mountain to our next destination. And by flew I mean we literally flew down the mountain, assisted by some paraglider pilots. For those of you unfamiliar with the intricacies of the many ways humans have discovered to fall from great heights, paragliding does not involve jumping out of an airplane (as does skydiving), or jumping off a cliff (as does base jumping), but rather running down a steep hill and then flying off a cliff. Needless to say, the experience was quite breathtaking. Not only were we surrounded by some of the most spectacular mountains I have ever seen, but we were 1000 meters above the ground flying around like a bird. It was a pretty sensational way to start the morning.
Finally, after landing safely we hopped on a train to Lucerne, where we would part ways with Kathy. (to be continued in the next post)
After briefly stopping in Interlaken, Switzerland Monday night to rest and reprovision, we three intrepid mountaineers (Rosalie, Kathy and I) ascended high into the snow covered Swiss Alps of the Berner-Oberland. Basing out of a wonderful and welcoming little hostel in the picturesque little town of Gimmelwald, we delved deep into the untamed wilderness, risking both life and limb. Take it from me, hiking through mountain valleys, admiring perfect little Swiss huts on perfect green hillsides, trying to comprehend mountain vistas and eating fondu is hard work.
Teusday afternoon, we did a warm up walk of the valley that holds Gimmelwald and about four other little towns, then ate a wonderful dinner at an out of the way restaurant. The hike was both a warm up physically and mentally, since it had very little elevation gain (something hard to come by in the Berner-Oberland region) and let us ease into the incredible views of the region and accustom the mind to such vast mountains.
On Wednesday, while Rosalie explored the waterfalls and hanging canyons around Gimmelwald, Kathy and I mounted an attempt on a nearby peak. Disdaining the gondola system that would have effortlessly whisked us to the top of a higher nearby peak (for the modest price of an arm and a leg) we set out to see the top of the world. 1400 vertical meters later, we gasped our way to our destination in time to enjoy a brief glimpse of the Eiger (ogre), Monk, and Jungfrau (young girl) through a break in the clouds that had lightly rained on us all day. The Eiger, Monk, and Jungfrau are the real peaks of the regions, clothed year-round in glaciers and more often than not clouds. Despite how we felt on the climb, Kathy and I actually ascended a sort of minor second cousin once removed of the Eiger, rather than a legitimate mountain.
Thursday morning, we bid a fond goodbye to Gimmelwald and flew off down the mountain to our next destination. And by flew I mean we literally flew down the mountain, assisted by some paraglider pilots. For those of you unfamiliar with the intricacies of the many ways humans have discovered to fall from great heights, paragliding does not involve jumping out of an airplane (as does skydiving), or jumping off a cliff (as does base jumping), but rather running down a steep hill and then flying off a cliff. Needless to say, the experience was quite breathtaking. Not only were we surrounded by some of the most spectacular mountains I have ever seen, but we were 1000 meters above the ground flying around like a bird. It was a pretty sensational way to start the morning.
Finally, after landing safely we hopped on a train to Lucerne, where we would part ways with Kathy. (to be continued in the next post)
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
On the road again
Prague was great, but we've got miles to go before we sleep. So we are now in the middle of Switzerland, after having toured most of the south half of Germany in a marathon day of admiring the European rail system.
On Sunday, our final day in the Czech Republic, we trained to Kutna Hora, a now smallish town that used to be the second most powerful city in central Europe when its silver mines were still producing. So it had no fewer than three giant cathedrals, and a few palaces despite the fact that it only takes 5 minutes to walk from the town center to the communist era apartment buildings on the outskirts of town. The two main attraction in Kutna Hora are a behemoth of flying buttresses to rival Notre Dame and a church basement filled with sculptures made out of human bones. The huge cathedral was pretty wonderful, particularly because it was relatively deserted compared to such attractions in the rest of Europe. The basement of bones was...impressive. Apparently, in the Czech Republic (well, some empire or another at the time) when you've got too many people to bury in a postage stamp graveyard, you sell the place to minor nobility and have them build sculptures out of the piles of bones that you don't have room in the ground for. Bones from about 40,000 people now form four 7 foot tall pyramids, candelabras, chalices, a chandeleer, and a man sized coat of arms in the basement of a small church, and hundreds of tourists come by to look at them every day. Oh, and the artist who built everything signed his name in human bones when he was done. Creepy? Maybe a little.
But the best thing about Kutna Hora was being out in the Czech countryside. From the mideival streets, you could look out and see hillsides of trees that were just beginning to turn colors.
Monday morning, we beat a hasty retreat from Prague before anyone could notice we were leaving (the streets are pretty dead at 4:30 a.m.) and tested out the efficiency of the German train system. You'll be chagrinned that it's not all it's cracked up to be. One of our trains was ten minutes late. Not that it mattered to us, because we didn't have any tight connections, but you could here the tinkling of shattered preconceptions and see the Swiss people shaking their heads. I forgive the Germans, though, partly because of my fine German heritage, partly because they have wonderful bread, and partly because they have great beer. And i didn't have to dwell on it too long because by Monday night we were already in Switzerland.
Today, we journeyed deep into the heart of the Swiss alps, to find our hostel in a tiny town of 500 that sits on top of a 1000 foot cliff and can only be reached by a gondola or a half day hike. Even as a Colorado person and proud mountain snob, I am impressed by these mountains. The views are really indescribable (and I'm tired and want to go to bed), so I'll post some pictures as soon as I download them from my camera. Until then, just imagine your most idyllic scene of green hills graced with a spattering of swiss cottages and surrounded by mountains. Then make the mountains taller, and you've got where we are.
On Sunday, our final day in the Czech Republic, we trained to Kutna Hora, a now smallish town that used to be the second most powerful city in central Europe when its silver mines were still producing. So it had no fewer than three giant cathedrals, and a few palaces despite the fact that it only takes 5 minutes to walk from the town center to the communist era apartment buildings on the outskirts of town. The two main attraction in Kutna Hora are a behemoth of flying buttresses to rival Notre Dame and a church basement filled with sculptures made out of human bones. The huge cathedral was pretty wonderful, particularly because it was relatively deserted compared to such attractions in the rest of Europe. The basement of bones was...impressive. Apparently, in the Czech Republic (well, some empire or another at the time) when you've got too many people to bury in a postage stamp graveyard, you sell the place to minor nobility and have them build sculptures out of the piles of bones that you don't have room in the ground for. Bones from about 40,000 people now form four 7 foot tall pyramids, candelabras, chalices, a chandeleer, and a man sized coat of arms in the basement of a small church, and hundreds of tourists come by to look at them every day. Oh, and the artist who built everything signed his name in human bones when he was done. Creepy? Maybe a little.
But the best thing about Kutna Hora was being out in the Czech countryside. From the mideival streets, you could look out and see hillsides of trees that were just beginning to turn colors.
Monday morning, we beat a hasty retreat from Prague before anyone could notice we were leaving (the streets are pretty dead at 4:30 a.m.) and tested out the efficiency of the German train system. You'll be chagrinned that it's not all it's cracked up to be. One of our trains was ten minutes late. Not that it mattered to us, because we didn't have any tight connections, but you could here the tinkling of shattered preconceptions and see the Swiss people shaking their heads. I forgive the Germans, though, partly because of my fine German heritage, partly because they have wonderful bread, and partly because they have great beer. And i didn't have to dwell on it too long because by Monday night we were already in Switzerland.
Today, we journeyed deep into the heart of the Swiss alps, to find our hostel in a tiny town of 500 that sits on top of a 1000 foot cliff and can only be reached by a gondola or a half day hike. Even as a Colorado person and proud mountain snob, I am impressed by these mountains. The views are really indescribable (and I'm tired and want to go to bed), so I'll post some pictures as soon as I download them from my camera. Until then, just imagine your most idyllic scene of green hills graced with a spattering of swiss cottages and surrounded by mountains. Then make the mountains taller, and you've got where we are.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Prague
Well, after two awesome days in the capital city of the Czech Republic, I have concluded that 1) Prague is awesome 2) if I ever design a city it's definitely going to have gothic towers every two blocks 3) there are only a finite number of puns you can make with the word "Czech" but they're funny if you repeat them 4) three days is simply not enough.
After arriving late thursday evening and only really having time to find our hostel, we set out on foot on Friday to see the less touristy places because we somehow slept through our alarms and woke up at 11:30 rather than 7:30, and did not want to brave the ridiculous crowds at the most popular places. So we walked around Old Town, which our hostel happens to be right at the center of, ate some food, and saw a lot of the Jewish quarter. Today, we succeeded in getting up early, and went across Charles Bridge (which is supposedly a big tourist attraction but had tons of construction) and Prague Castle. Prague castle is pretty darn cool, though I have to admit that my favorite part was not seeing the massive cathedral or the palace, but shooting a crossbow at the end of a long hallway of mideival arms and armor. Last night we listened to a classical concert in a large cathedral a few blocks away from our hostel, and tonight we watched Carmen at the state opera house. So, not only are we getting our fill of ridiculous gothic belltowers (which Prague seems to have an endless suply of) but we are also getting culturally enlightened. However, I should probably go to bed now. Because tomorrow we are going to attempt to get out of the city to do some more site seeing, eat as much authentic Czech food as possible, visit a club made entirely out of parts from Communist era factories, and then catch our train to Switzerland at 5:00 Monday morning. So sleep might get the shove.
After arriving late thursday evening and only really having time to find our hostel, we set out on foot on Friday to see the less touristy places because we somehow slept through our alarms and woke up at 11:30 rather than 7:30, and did not want to brave the ridiculous crowds at the most popular places. So we walked around Old Town, which our hostel happens to be right at the center of, ate some food, and saw a lot of the Jewish quarter. Today, we succeeded in getting up early, and went across Charles Bridge (which is supposedly a big tourist attraction but had tons of construction) and Prague Castle. Prague castle is pretty darn cool, though I have to admit that my favorite part was not seeing the massive cathedral or the palace, but shooting a crossbow at the end of a long hallway of mideival arms and armor. Last night we listened to a classical concert in a large cathedral a few blocks away from our hostel, and tonight we watched Carmen at the state opera house. So, not only are we getting our fill of ridiculous gothic belltowers (which Prague seems to have an endless suply of) but we are also getting culturally enlightened. However, I should probably go to bed now. Because tomorrow we are going to attempt to get out of the city to do some more site seeing, eat as much authentic Czech food as possible, visit a club made entirely out of parts from Communist era factories, and then catch our train to Switzerland at 5:00 Monday morning. So sleep might get the shove.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
There
Well, that's actually a lie. I'm not there yet. I'm not even nearly there, but I have started the journey (after some minor setbacks), and I won't actually be in Salamanca for a while yet. So, for the sake of convenience, I ask that you overlook my factual inaccuracy in the title.
Right now I am in Chapel Hill, NC visiting Rosalie who will be travelling with me for the next few weeks before joining her program in Madrid. Tomorrow we depart the US by way of Boston (where we pick up a third travelling companion, Kathy), and London on our way to Prague. The first leg of my trip (from Colorado to NC) was a little touch and go when I attempted to catch my flight at the Durango airport yesterday morning only to find that my flight had been cancelled and I had unknowingly been rebooked on an earlier, long departed flight. Luckily, I managed to weasel my way on some later flights, and managed to arrive only two hours later than planned after flying standby the whole way.
So, hopefully I got the hiccups out of the system yesterday, and my travels will be smooth from here on out. The journey has begun. And if I've forgotten anything critical, I haven't realized it yet.
Right now I am in Chapel Hill, NC visiting Rosalie who will be travelling with me for the next few weeks before joining her program in Madrid. Tomorrow we depart the US by way of Boston (where we pick up a third travelling companion, Kathy), and London on our way to Prague. The first leg of my trip (from Colorado to NC) was a little touch and go when I attempted to catch my flight at the Durango airport yesterday morning only to find that my flight had been cancelled and I had unknowingly been rebooked on an earlier, long departed flight. Luckily, I managed to weasel my way on some later flights, and managed to arrive only two hours later than planned after flying standby the whole way.
So, hopefully I got the hiccups out of the system yesterday, and my travels will be smooth from here on out. The journey has begun. And if I've forgotten anything critical, I haven't realized it yet.
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