tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15339128630506681022024-03-08T08:10:00.123+01:00Austrian AdventureThis is a blog I wrote from May 2007 - May 2008 while I was a 21-22 year old chemical engineering student from Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada on a year long internship in Austria. It was a way to keep my friends and family updated, while recording details and organizing photos for myself.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-14217832694509951022008-05-10T12:48:00.005+02:002008-05-10T14:21:42.880+02:00A Year in ViennaToday, the 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> of May 2008, marks one full year in Vienna. One year ago today, May 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span>, 2007 I arrived in Vienna, terrified, sleep deprived and thinking I had made a huge mistake. In the 365 days since then I have made a lifetime of memories, made friends from all over the world, visited 17 different countries, written 57 posts, and lived in 5 different rooms in 4 different districts of Vienna. Not too shabby!<br /><br />It's hard to imagine what my life would be like now if, back in December 2006, my housemate Jaymie hadn't convinced me to be decisive and submit my application. I was indecisive because I liked the life I was living. I had good friends, and the predictability of my life was comforting. Before coming to Vienna, the longest I had been more than 1 hour from home at a single time was 11 days, 11 days! If this past year has taught me anything it's that you need to take chances and push your boundaries or you'll never realize your potential; an sometimes people like me need a helpful nudge in the right direction.<br /><br />To celebrate the completion of my first year, the city of Vienna has staged a series of concerts, and parties today. Some people say that these are to celebrate the opening of the 9 km extension of subway line U2, but I say it's just a coincidence.<br /><br />So, I'm sure many of you are wondering what I've been up to since Prague. The most interesting thing that has happened is that from May 1st to 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> my friend Andrew Cardinal (Toga Andrew) came to visit from Canada. He was going to be in Belgium for a wedding and took up my offer of an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">airmattress</span> and a spot on my floor. He arrived on the first day of a 4-day weekend, so we spent the majority of the time wandering around Vienna, seeing the sights.<br /><br />However, I took the opportunity of having him here to see some things I was always intending to see but never really got around to. One example is the "Last Supper" mosaic in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minoritenkirche%2C_Vienna"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Minoritenkirche</span></a>. It is a full-sized replica of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">DaVinci's</span> Last Supper made out of 20 tons of coloured marble and is almost 4m tall and over 9m wide. It is huge, and the level of detail is amazing, especially considering that it's made out of little pieces of stone. The mosaic is also a very important historical record, as it was made in 1809 when the original Last Supper in Milan was in a better condition. In the 200 years since, the original has deteriorated considerably to the point where many of the details in the mosaic are no longer visible in the original, to the point where the last major restoration of the original used the mosaic as an artistic guide. It's a shame that the mosaic is almost completely unknown, and in a church tucked away in the inner city off the beaten path.<br /><br />Another site I have wanted to visit since arriving in Vienna is the United Nations building, the third most important UN site after NYC and Geneva.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV93pKZnxI/AAAAAAAABi4/7RROO_cpJ8s/s1600-h/IMG_3562.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV93pKZnxI/AAAAAAAABi4/7RROO_cpJ8s/s320/IMG_3562.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699739764858642" border="0" /></a>The site, built by the Austrian government in the 1970s, and looks it, like something inspired by the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jetsons</span>. The Vienna office houses the International Atomic Energy Agency, the UN Office for Outer Space Affairs, the UN Office on Drugs and Crime, and many other smaller organizations. To go through the security check at the entrance you need a passport because you officially leave Austria and theoretically enter all 192 member nations simultaneously. So now I've basically been everywhere! There are one hour long guided tours in English for only 3€, which take you through the buildings and tell you all about the history and structure of the UN in Vienna.<br /><br />Exiting the security check, you pass by the 193 national flags (which include the 192 member countries and the Vatican). I was pretty good at identifying most of them, but it was easier than you'd think because they are arranged alphabetically by the countries' names in English. So, for example when you see the random flag between Spain and Sudan there is only one country that fits, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Sri</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Lanka</span>.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV935KZnyI/AAAAAAAABjA/T_2rFz-_bkQ/s1600-h/IMG_3557.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV935KZnyI/AAAAAAAABjA/T_2rFz-_bkQ/s320/IMG_3557.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699744059825954" border="0" /></a>The alphabetical listings make the flags easier to identify, but must be a hassle for the building staff, especially when you consider that with every new member state, a new pole has to be added and every flag after must be shifted down. Inside the entrance hall there are.. more flags!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV94JKZnzI/AAAAAAAABjI/LOL19cWp050/s1600-h/IMG_3552.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV94JKZnzI/AAAAAAAABjI/LOL19cWp050/s320/IMG_3552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699748354793266" border="0" /></a>In the Office of Outer Space Affairs there is a chunk of moon rock, and several UN flags that have been to space and back.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV94pKZn0I/AAAAAAAABjQ/1tNX-hl77kg/s1600-h/IMG_3554.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV94pKZn0I/AAAAAAAABjQ/1tNX-hl77kg/s320/IMG_3554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699756944727874" border="0" /></a>On Andrew's last night in Vienna we went to see the opera "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Marriage_of_Figaro">Le <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Nozze</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">di</span> Figaro</a>" by Mozart. It was long, 3.5 hours, but was very funny, and had four amazing, huge, sets for the four acts, taking advantage of the four movable (hydraulic) stages at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Staatsoper</span> which can be set up ahead of time and moved into place in a matter of minutes. The physical humour and convoluted Jerry-Springer-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">esque</span> plot (at one point everyone realizes that the old woman who Figaro is being forced to marry to pay off a debt is actually his mother) made it my favourite opera to date.<br /><br />As this weekend is also a long weekend, and my mom arrives on Friday, I only have 3 days of work left. I knew I would be at the office fairly late on Friday (3:30pm) and most people would be gone, so I took my camera to get photos of my lab. It was hard to take a good photo because all the exterior walls are window, throwing all interior equipment into shadow due to the high contrast. If you look though, you can see my computer to the right of the column, with my electrochemical cell hooked up beside it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV945KZn1I/AAAAAAAABjY/edzXzAemxYg/s1600-h/IMG_3574.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV945KZn1I/AAAAAAAABjY/edzXzAemxYg/s320/IMG_3574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699761239695186" border="0" /></a>From my lab window I can look out at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schneeberg_%28Alps%29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Schneeberg</span></a> (Snow mountain), which is the easternmost Alp over 2km high. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Schneeberg</span> actually looks much closer in person, this photo makes it look like a blip on the horizon. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV-CJKZn2I/AAAAAAAABjg/Xp7F_kO0_qY/s1600-h/IMG_3577.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SCV-CJKZn2I/AAAAAAAABjg/Xp7F_kO0_qY/s320/IMG_3577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198699920153485154" border="0" /></a>This weekend many people are out of the city, but Stefan and Ariana have their big joint birthday party tonight, so it should be fun. Who knows, I might go ride the new part of the U2 out to the Euro Cup stadium so I can say I've been there when I see if on TV in June.<br /><br />As I said before, my mom is arriving on Friday. On Saturday the 17<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">th</span> we leave for our Italian adventure; Venice-Rome-Pisa-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Monterosso</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Cinque</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Terre</span>)-Milan. From Milan, we fly back to Vienna, and spend a few days seeing the city and packing, with a day trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Salzburg</span>. From Vienna, we fly home, with a 3 day stopover in Paris, arriving home the night of June 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">th</span>.<br /><br />I'm not sure if I'll have time to post much before arriving home, when I'll finish this blog with a post or two about my trip with my mom, and a final summary. I have to say, even though I've been less than diligent about posting since Christmas, I'm shocked that I've kept this going for a full year. So, don't be sad that it's almost over, be happy that it's lasted this long.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-70301383217624213712008-04-07T20:44:00.012+02:002008-04-22T23:55:03.381+02:00PragueFor those of you who have been waiting on the edges of your chairs for a while now when I announced that I'd be taking another trip, my destination was, of course, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prague">Prague</a>, the capital of the Czech Republic.<br /><br />Sorry that this took so long to be posted. I was waiting for photos from some other people, but they've apparently disappeared. They're all the fun photos from the nights, because I never took my camera out. I'll add them when I get them.<br /><br />For those of you who remember my first experiences in the Czech Republic, it's easy to say that this time was much better. For those of you who haven't read it, or need a refresher, see the end of my post on Krakow, Poland.<br /><br />I arrived in Prague on Friday May 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> at noon after a 4 hour bus trip from Vienna. I had to meet Henrik and his friend Matt at the main train station at 2:45, so I had some time to kill. First, I wandered through the streets in the direction of the train station. After some wrong turns and a little eavesdropping on other tourists, I found my way to the train station. The Prague train station must have been extremely beautiful at one time in the past. Sadly, however, that is no longer really the case. The old entrance has been closed and turned into a small <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">café</span>. The 'new' entrance must have been built in the 60's or 70's during the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">height</span> of communism. Thankfully, the station is now under renovation to clean up the modern sections and restore the old parts.<br /><br />Below you can see the original entrance to the station, which is now only meters from a busy freeway. There is a large domed ceiling covered in plasterwork and murals in need of serious attention, but you can still imagine what it would have been like in it's glory days. On second glance, this picture doesn't look all too bad, although you can see some damage on the left.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH8NDJf4I/AAAAAAAABiI/weWMPUYV1Ns/s1600-h/IMG_3400.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH8NDJf4I/AAAAAAAABiI/weWMPUYV1Ns/s320/IMG_3400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186607389235314562" border="0" /></a>Now with my proper bearings, I set out to explore the city. Prague is famous for many things (including its image as the new Amsterdam), but also for the prevalence of black-light and marionette theatres for tourists. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">posterboard</span> below is for "Yellow Submarine", a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blacklight</span> show performed to Beatles songs. The shows are all about the images created using <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">blacklight</span> puppets and sets, and most are completely dialogue-free.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH89DJf5I/AAAAAAAABiQ/5Mqt4nWXewA/s1600-h/IMG_3411.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH89DJf5I/AAAAAAAABiQ/5Mqt4nWXewA/s320/IMG_3411.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186607402120216466" border="0" /></a>We never got the chance to see a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">blacklight</span> show, but neither has my Czech coworker, so it's not like I really missed out on an integral facet of Czech culture, just another tourist trap.<br /><br />There are a lot of interesting museums in Prague, including the Museum of Sex Machines and the Museum of Communism with the cool poster below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH9dDJf6I/AAAAAAAABiY/86YG9XVG1qg/s1600-h/IMG_3413.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH9dDJf6I/AAAAAAAABiY/86YG9XVG1qg/s320/IMG_3413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186607410710151074" border="0" /></a>When it was about time for Henrik and Matt's train to arrive, I headed back to the train station and sat in the abandoned old waiting room with a sleeping backpacker and group of Czech teens.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SADapH-ugSI/AAAAAAAABiw/eHQoZ_W-Y1M/s1600-h/IMG_3424.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/SADapH-ugSI/AAAAAAAABiw/eHQoZ_W-Y1M/s320/IMG_3424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188387170782445858" border="0" /></a>Being a bit bored, I walked around the front of the building. Hopefully the renovations get to the facade before it all crumbles away, although dilapidated beauty has its own charm.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH-NDJf8I/AAAAAAAABio/-YQAxhuFG78/s1600-h/IMG_3425.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qH-NDJf8I/AAAAAAAABio/-YQAxhuFG78/s320/IMG_3425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186607423595052994" border="0" /></a>When we met, we decided to go to the hostel and ditch our bags. The hostel turned out to be an amazing deal; it was close, cheap, and clean, what more could you ask for? Free breakfast? They had that too. The two people I met up with were my Swedish friend Henrik who is a former <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">IAESTE</span> Vienna trainee now going to school in Munich, and his friend Matt who is from Oxford, England but also goes to school in Munich. It was nice to see Henrik again, the first time since Oktoberfest, and Matt turned out to be really cool.<br /><br />Our first big destination was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Town_Square_%28Prague%29">Old Town Square</a>. The square is a big change from the narrow old streets which empty into it, a real medieval town, one of the only major cities in Europe to escape WWII without much structural damage.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qG-9DJf0I/AAAAAAAABho/-8DVNXT57TU/s1600-h/IMG_3433.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qG-9DJf0I/AAAAAAAABho/-8DVNXT57TU/s320/IMG_3433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186606336968326978" border="0" /></a>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_Our_Lady_in_front_of_T%C3%BDn">Church of Our Lady in front of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Týn</span></a> is one of the main attractions in the square. It was built in the 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span> century, and has an almost creepy vibe, especially at night when the small windows in the towers are lit with orange lights. The main entrance is very odd. The row of buildings in front if the church in the photo above are actually attached to the front of the church. The only way in is through a fairly hidden and narrow passageway built into one of the buildings which leads to a very small courtyard.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHGNDJf1I/AAAAAAAABhw/UDfnM-1R-Vw/s1600-h/IMG_3438.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHGNDJf1I/AAAAAAAABhw/UDfnM-1R-Vw/s320/IMG_3438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186606461522378578" border="0" /></a>The other sight int he old town square is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prague_Orloj">astronomical clock</a> which has components dating back to 1410! The clock not only tells the time, it also tells you the date, sunrise, sunset, hours since sunrise, zodiac month, lunar cycle, and more. Hard to believe it's all based on 15<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">th</span> century mechanics.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qG-NDJfzI/AAAAAAAABhg/9OGpmndEHV8/s1600-h/IMG_3432.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qG-NDJfzI/AAAAAAAABhg/9OGpmndEHV8/s320/IMG_3432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186606324083425074" border="0" /></a>There are also some animated figures which move on the hour and at other times throughout the day. The two pairs on either side of the calendar represent the four things which were despised by the people of Prague, they are death (skeleton), vanity (the figure with the mirror), greed (the figure with the money bag), and last but not least, the Turkish (the figure with the turban). Nothing like a beautiful old racist clock. There are also statues of the 12 apostles which rotate though the two doors at the top. We just happened to be there when it was going off, and it was a little disappointing. The huge crowd of people gathered below made me think it would be a bit more exciting.<br /><br />From the old town we wandered down to the river. Across the river on top of the hill is Prague castle, the largest ancient castle in the world, we decided that we should leave it for Saturday.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHHNDJf2I/AAAAAAAABh4/fJcabaPOsVw/s1600-h/IMG_3441.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHHNDJf2I/AAAAAAAABh4/fJcabaPOsVw/s320/IMG_3441.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186606478702247778" border="0" /></a>We passed a fountain outside the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kafka">Kafka</a> Museum that everyone who visits Prague has to see. I found a video of it running <a href="http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=INH5HfxiFic">here</a> on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Youtube</span>. Unfortunately only one of the guys was working, the other just lazily peed in one spot.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHINDJf3I/AAAAAAAABiA/IT48aJoTa48/s1600-h/IMG_3447.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qHINDJf3I/AAAAAAAABiA/IT48aJoTa48/s320/IMG_3447.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186606495882116978" border="0" /></a>Many of the restaurants along the river face the street but have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">cafés</span> down by the water. The little passage between these two buildings leading to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">café</span> was so long and narrow that there was a traffic light.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGaNDJfuI/AAAAAAAABg4/OLqWrU_-efw/s1600-h/IMG_3449.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGaNDJfuI/AAAAAAAABg4/OLqWrU_-efw/s320/IMG_3449.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605705608134370" border="0" /></a>The oldest bridge crossing the river is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_bridge">Charles Bridge</a> which was started in the mid 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">th</span> century. The wide stone bridge is lined by 30 stone statues, installed around the year 1700. The bridge is currently being completely restored, but thankfully they're working on it section-by-section, so most of it is still open to the public. The only downside of the bridge is the large number of vendors and buskers selling everything from portraits to marionettes. It's hard to imagine how packed it must be in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">height</span> of the tourist season.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGadDJfvI/AAAAAAAABhA/XsW17b-63iw/s1600-h/IMG_3457.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGadDJfvI/AAAAAAAABhA/XsW17b-63iw/s320/IMG_3457.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605709903101682" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGFNDJftI/AAAAAAAABgw/6PhcQFJ7m8w/s1600-h/IMG_3499.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGFNDJftI/AAAAAAAABgw/6PhcQFJ7m8w/s320/IMG_3499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605344830881490" border="0" /></a>The "biggest music club in Eastern Europe" one of the many places we went Friday night. It has 5 full floors, all with different styles of music. The whole block of buildings (including the club) is built out over the river which passes beneath.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGa9DJfwI/AAAAAAAABhI/kZ7pYpLd3y8/s1600-h/IMG_3459.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGa9DJfwI/AAAAAAAABhI/kZ7pYpLd3y8/s320/IMG_3459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605718493036290" border="0" /></a>One of the many marionette shops in Prague, to some people being surrounded by this many marionettes would be terrifying, I just found it a little creepy. I was going to buy one as a souvenir, but they were all pretty expensive.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGbNDJfxI/AAAAAAAABhQ/u0R-jNHsFA4/s1600-h/IMG_3460.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGbNDJfxI/AAAAAAAABhQ/u0R-jNHsFA4/s320/IMG_3460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605722788003602" border="0" /></a>On Saturday we walked up the fairly steep hill to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prague_Castle">Prague Castle</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGbtDJfyI/AAAAAAAABhY/Oh2Efvtk0ag/s1600-h/IMG_3472.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGbtDJfyI/AAAAAAAABhY/Oh2Efvtk0ag/s320/IMG_3472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605731377938210" border="0" /></a>The site dates back to the year 870, but a millennium of additions and renovations has left little that looks more than a few hundred years old. The castle was very eclectic; every piece seemed to be of a different style. This made it interesting, but also made it seem much smaller, because you could never be sure what was castle and what part of the surrounding buildings.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGCNDJfpI/AAAAAAAABgQ/e4cnUT8h1GY/s1600-h/IMG_3480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGCNDJfpI/AAAAAAAABgQ/e4cnUT8h1GY/s320/IMG_3480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605293291273874" border="0" /></a>At the center of the castle is the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">gothic</span> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Vitus_Cathedral">St.Vitus Cathedral</a>. It was started in 1344, but not finished until the 1920's.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGDNDJfqI/AAAAAAAABgY/wc5mydKcGzQ/s1600-h/IMG_3485.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGDNDJfqI/AAAAAAAABgY/wc5mydKcGzQ/s320/IMG_3485.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605310471143074" border="0" /></a>The older <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">gothic</span> sections of the cathedral had gargoyles. I love gargoyles.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGDtDJfrI/AAAAAAAABgg/8mYd2iP9alg/s1600-h/IMG_3486.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGDtDJfrI/AAAAAAAABgg/8mYd2iP9alg/s320/IMG_3486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605319061077682" border="0" /></a>The stained glass windows were amazingly detailed, colourful, and all matched, something very rarely seen in Europe. Normally most or all of the windows were damaged in WWII, and are therefore either missing or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">mismatched.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGEtDJfsI/AAAAAAAABgo/AkBZhy7I4yQ/s1600-h/IMG_3488.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qGEtDJfsI/AAAAAAAABgo/AkBZhy7I4yQ/s320/IMG_3488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186605336240946882" border="0" /></a>We crossed back across the river to see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dancing_House">Dancing House</a>, a building designed by a Czech architect in co-operation with Canadian architect <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Gehry">Frank <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Gehry</span></a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFpdDJfkI/AAAAAAAABfo/rnl6GII7OSI/s1600-h/IMG_3502.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFpdDJfkI/AAAAAAAABfo/rnl6GII7OSI/s320/IMG_3502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186604868089511490" border="0" /></a>From the Dancing House we went back to the hostel for a siesta. Instead I watched some BBC World, which I have really been missing ever since October when we had to move out of Albert <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Schweizer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Haus</span>.<br /><br />For supper we decided to check out a "dinner entertainment" restaurant by the hostel. It was caveman themed, and actually turned out to be a lot of fun. The restaurant was decorated with mammoth tusks, furs, bones, and fake rock, and the waitresses were dressed as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">cavewomen</span>. All the food was very basic (meat and potatoes) and you had to eat with your hands. We sat down beside two Dutch women who were really funny, especially when the "show" started. The show was a drum circle around a caveman who was sniffing a large bowl of dry ice. I think it was supposed to be some kind of spiritual ritual, but it went on way too long. I was just worried that the poor guy would asphyxiate and we wouldn't be able to finish our food. After the 'ritual' they made us all get up and dance to the drums. Overall it was a fun, random, and completely unexpected. After dinner we stopped in a few places but eventually settled at a bar called "Harley" where we ran into a Canadian girl from Toronto and her class of Czech girls learning English. We ended up hanging out with them the entire night and had a lot of fun. (I'll add photos when I get them)<br /><br />On Sunday it was raining, so Matt and Henrik decided to take a 1pm train back to Munich. As we were walking toward the train station, we passed the brightly coloured Jerusalem Synagogue. The architectural style and bright decoration make it look entirely out-of-place in the rather drab neighbourhood. It would have been cool to see inside, but it was closed. Too bad.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFqNDJflI/AAAAAAAABfw/Y-JIqpso358/s1600-h/IMG_3505.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFqNDJflI/AAAAAAAABfw/Y-JIqpso358/s320/IMG_3505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186604880974413394" border="0" /></a>After saying goodbye to Henrik and Matt I still had 4 hours to kill. I wandered throughout the city and eventually found myself in a market. One stand sold different types of candy, including Czech "Smarties".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFqtDJfmI/AAAAAAAABf4/96VIiLxBRdI/s1600-h/IMG_3509.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFqtDJfmI/AAAAAAAABf4/96VIiLxBRdI/s320/IMG_3509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186604889564348002" border="0" /></a>Another stall sold marionettes, there were characters from fairy tales, like Puss in boots and the big bad wolf, but also Harry Potter and Hermione.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFs9DJfnI/AAAAAAAABgA/onNu-zmdp4c/s1600-h/IMG_3510.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFs9DJfnI/AAAAAAAABgA/onNu-zmdp4c/s320/IMG_3510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186604928219053682" border="0" /></a>I wandered some more and found myself in the old <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josefov_%28Prague%29">Jewish quarter</a>. According to a few sources (which may or may not be true) the Jewish Quarter in Prague wasn't destroyed in WWII because the Nazis intended on making it a "exotic museum of an extinct race". This terrible intention resulted in a lot of Jewish artifacts and synagogues being preserved. One of these preserved sights is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Jewish_Cemetery%2C_Prague">Old Jewish Cemetery</a>, which dates back at least as far as the 15th century and is believed to contain 12,000 graves.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFudDJfoI/AAAAAAAABgI/b7VmNPR0LLc/s1600-h/IMG_3519.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qFudDJfoI/AAAAAAAABgI/b7VmNPR0LLc/s320/IMG_3519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186604953988857474" border="0" /></a>The gravestones are grouped very close together, at odd angles, and various states of decay. The fact that graves are stacked and layered allows for the estimated 12,000 people to have been buried in such a small space over the ~350 years it was in use.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAv9DJffI/AAAAAAAABfA/iLDSlVycPdE/s1600-h/IMG_3524.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAv9DJffI/AAAAAAAABfA/iLDSlVycPdE/s320/IMG_3524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186599482200522226" border="0" /></a>Walking from the Jewish quarter back towards the river I spotted the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prague_Metronome">Prague Metronome</a>. To get to it I had to pass back over the river via a bridge decorated with this statue.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAwdDJfgI/AAAAAAAABfI/l_uhuuzQNL4/s1600-h/IMG_3530.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAwdDJfgI/AAAAAAAABfI/l_uhuuzQNL4/s320/IMG_3530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186599490790456834" border="0" /></a>A view down the river from up on the hill beside the 75 foot tall metronome.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAxtDJfhI/AAAAAAAABfQ/cDLcofvcXIw/s1600-h/IMG_3535.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAxtDJfhI/AAAAAAAABfQ/cDLcofvcXIw/s320/IMG_3535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186599512265293330" border="0" /></a>The walk to the bus station from the metronome took me through the old town square one last time. I stopped and took a picture of the monument to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_Hus">Jan Hus</a> who was burned at the stake in 1415 for proposing a reformation of the Catholic church in Bohemia. The tower in the photo below is the old city hall, which contains the mechanism for the astronomical clock which is on the lower part of the tower.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAydDJfiI/AAAAAAAABfY/MfnrlmL_WtU/s1600-h/IMG_3539.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAydDJfiI/AAAAAAAABfY/MfnrlmL_WtU/s320/IMG_3539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186599525150195234" border="0" /></a>I arrived at the bus station far earlier than I should have. When I arrived I looked all over for a screen displaying departure platform and times, but couldn't find one. Then I realized that the bus station is by no means modern, so I had to go to the large schedule board, find Vienna, and find my bus. It was easy to do once I realized that I had to do it. As I was very early, I wandered around, and took a few last photos.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAzNDJfjI/AAAAAAAABfg/7nk7ijQgeTo/s1600-h/IMG_3541.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_qAzNDJfjI/AAAAAAAABfg/7nk7ijQgeTo/s320/IMG_3541.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186599538035097138" border="0" /></a>I really enjoyed my trip to Prague and can't wait to show you the photos from the evenings. I would really like to go back some day and check out some of the museums, see a black-light show and tour the castle.<br /><br />In less than a month now I will be done work and in Italy with my mom, can't wait. On Thursday I'm taking the day off work to see my friend Szilvia's PhD defense. It will be interesting to see how it all happens and then we'll either go out to celebrate her success or drown her sorrows. Her brother Laslo is also coming from Serbia. We haven't seen him since we were in Serbia last November, so it should be a good weekend.<br /><br />At the beginning of May my friend Andrew who was my neighbour in residence in first year will be coming to visit. Should be fun, hopefully by then it's a bit warmer and a little drier.<br /><br />Only a few weeks left in Europe. I can't wait to come home and see everyone again, but I never want to leave. It's a good thing I can't afford to stay in Europe this summer and still go back to school in the fall, or else I'd be really tempted.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-74541754459753670602008-03-31T20:34:00.013+02:002008-04-02T23:29:40.695+02:00March... where did it go?The month of March was filled with many memorable moments, but flew by so fast that it's hard to believe it was even there.<br /><br />Near the beginning of the month I noticed that my hair was getting a little long. As I've mentioned before, haircuts in Vienna are expensive, painful, and bad, therefore I really wasn't looking forward to getting one. So, I figured I'd do what most other guys do, and cut it myself. How hard could it be? I borrowed a pair of electric clippers from Daniel and decided to do it myself without any help. As I didn't want to get hair everywhere and I don't own a broom, I stepped into my shower, plugged the clippers in above my mirror, set it to the longest length and started with the back. It went pretty smoothly and felt about the right length, so I took a leap and went right down the center of my head, a reverse mohawk. To my horror, I discovered that "8" was much shorter than I had expected, but what was done was done. After what seemed like much too long, I was done, with a pile of hair on the floor, and far too little on my head.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EystDJfbI/AAAAAAAABeg/Qb6rXdO610Q/s1600-h/IMG_3358.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EystDJfbI/AAAAAAAABeg/Qb6rXdO610Q/s320/IMG_3358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183980389668584882" border="0" /></a>The next few days were spent finding small patches of long hair and snipping them whenever I tracked down a pair of scissors. Now that it's begun to grow out, it's becoming a mullet dangerously fast, so, I might have to give in and get it cut properly, but not for a while.<br /><br />On Saturday the 15th (the "official" St.Patrick's Day) I met up with Nicole, Ali's friend whom I had met a few weeks before, and went to see Carmen at the Volksoper. The Volksoper (the people's opera) only performs shows in German, meaning two things, Carmen was performed in German instead of the original French, and there were no subtitles. So, we didn't understand much, including the entire first half of the second act. However, one thing that amused me throughout most of the show was how poorly German lends itself to seductive arias like the famous song by Carmen. Instead of lightly trailing off the notes, as can be done in French where they leave out half of the word anyways, the propriety of German pronunciation occasionally requires harsh consonants at the end of words, which sound more like someone prepping for a spittoon than a seductress. Afterwards we met up with Andres, Daniel, Gabi, and Szilvia and went to a pub, which was pretty dead for "St.Patrick's Day", but we made the best of it.<br /><br />When I returned from Canada after Christmas I brought back real maple syrup, and when Ali visited in February she brought me a box of pancake mix from home. Since Christmas, Cora and I had been talking about making a big pancake breakfast. Finally, the weekend before Easter, Sziszi offered to host a pancake brunch.<br /><br />In the photo below (Going around the table clockwise from the bottom) are Gabi, Andres, Daniel, Carolina, me, Cora, Raphael, and Sziszi. Karin, Sziszi's roommate, was taking the photo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EytNDJfcI/AAAAAAAABeo/8q-o3KqTA8Y/s1600-h/P3161905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EytNDJfcI/AAAAAAAABeo/8q-o3KqTA8Y/s320/P3161905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183980398258519490" border="0" /></a>Cora and I thought we'd get creative and make all the girls teddy bear pancakes with banana faces. We also made some x-rated pancakes for the guys, which they thought were funny. People were shocked that Cora and I were so talented at making things out of pancakes; we didn't tell anyone how easy it is.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EytdDJfdI/AAAAAAAABew/6ZnKokPzUCM/s1600-h/P3161906.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EytdDJfdI/AAAAAAAABew/6ZnKokPzUCM/s320/P3161906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183980402553486802" border="0" /></a>After stuffing ourselves with far too many pancakes, we decided to go on a walk. Most people decided to go home, as it was already mid-afternoon, but Cora, Szilvia, Karin, and I went to Schönbrunn to wander through the Easter market. The Easter markets are a lot like the Christmas markets except on a smaller scale. There were a few booths overflowing with hand-painted eggs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyPNDJfWI/AAAAAAAABd4/oilWfb2P0CM/s1600-h/IMG_3362.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyPNDJfWI/AAAAAAAABd4/oilWfb2P0CM/s320/IMG_3362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979882862443874" border="0" /></a>There were also a few spots where kids could play with some simple, old-fashioned toys, like stilts. Karin, Sziszi, and Cora tried out the tandem-walking boards, which were fun, for about 30 seconds...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyPtDJfXI/AAAAAAAABeA/ET7ZKdKefw8/s1600-h/IMG_3364.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyPtDJfXI/AAAAAAAABeA/ET7ZKdKefw8/s320/IMG_3364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979891452378482" border="0" /></a>On the Wednesday of the next week there was a talk by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Wilczek">Dr. Frank Wilczek</a> at the Fachhochschule (technical college) in Wiener Neustadt which is only a few minutes away from our offices. José, Szilvia, and I went from ECHEM and met up with Cora, Stefan, and a few others from AC2T. Dr.Wilczek is an American physicist from MIT who won the Nobel Prize in Physics in 2004 for the discovery of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asymptotic_freedom" title="Asymptotic freedom">asymptotic freedom</a> in the theory of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strong_interaction" title="Strong interaction">strong interaction</a> (quantum physics). His talk, which was entirely in English!, titled "The Universe is a Strange Place" was actually very entertaining and easy to follow. He talked all about quarks, gluons, dark energy, dark matter, and everything in between. If you're keen and look carefully at the photo below, you'll see I didn't actually take it, it's from 2005, but it's the same lecture. A few times in his presentation Cora and I were the only people who laughed at a joke because everyone else got a little lost in translation. For example, he made the (rather nerdy) joke of "so, it turns out you can have your quarks and eat them too!", which just confused all the non-native English speakers, but made us laugh awkwardly.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyttDJfeI/AAAAAAAABe4/1fkRXyAZbGk/s1600-h/wilczek-300.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyttDJfeI/AAAAAAAABe4/1fkRXyAZbGk/s320/wilczek-300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183980406848454114" border="0" /></a>On Easter Sunday I went with Nicole, her brother, and her brother's friend (all from Canada) to see the ballet <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swan_lake">Swan Lake</a> at the Staatsoper. It turned out to be the premier, meaning the line for cheap tickets was long by the time we arrived, so we got crappy spots where you could only see half the stage at once. The ballet was interesting, better than most operas, and had a pretty cool ending, where the lead guy drowns on stage in a stormy lake. As it was the premier, during the bows people chucked bouquets of roses onto the stage from the boxes along the sides, like in the movies.<br /><br />On Easter Monday, I was supposed to see the opera Tristan and Isolde by Wagner with Cora and Ariana, but thankfully Ariana had to cancel on us. I say thankfully because it is 4:45 long, a bit too long for my liking. Instead, I went with Caren and Ariana that Thursday to see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ariadne_auf_Naxos">Ariadne auf Naxos</a>, a funny opera written by Richard Strauss where the first act, which is set backstage, shows everyone arguing when they find out that the serious opera and the comical dance show the Duke ordered for his party must both be performed simultaneously. The second act shows the performance on the stage, which has been flipped 180 degrees to the audience's perspective. The show was funny, and had a good elaborate set, so I enjoyed it. I find the minimalist modern adaptations a lot less entertaining.<br /><br />The last weekend of March was very warm (~18C) so Szilvia, Gabor (Szilvia's boyfriend who was in town last weekend), Andres, and I decided to go to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lainzer_Tiergarten">Lainzer Tiergarten</a> for a hike. Andres forgot about the time change, so it ended up being just the three of us.<br /><br />The Lainzer Tiergaren is a 25 square kilometer wildlife preserve in the southwest corner of Vienna. The route we selected was about 7km long and wound through the "hills". We had only been walking along the path for a few minutes when a large wild boar came walking towards us in the other direction. It was pretty tame, so Gabor got as close as Szilvia would allow, to get a photo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyQNDJfYI/AAAAAAAABeI/rCrbtfnPi2A/s1600-h/IMG_3374.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyQNDJfYI/AAAAAAAABeI/rCrbtfnPi2A/s320/IMG_3374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979900042313090" border="0" /></a>There still aren't many leaves on many of the trees here. Lots of buds, and leaves on bushes though, so it's only a matter of a few more weeks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyQ9DJfZI/AAAAAAAABeQ/2VZjIvYqgLE/s1600-h/IMG_3377.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyQ9DJfZI/AAAAAAAABeQ/2VZjIvYqgLE/s320/IMG_3377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979912927214994" border="0" /></a>At the top of one path there is a sloping lawn which looks out over all of Vienna. We stopped for a bit and ate some pears that Sziszi had brought along.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyRdDJfaI/AAAAAAAABeY/_qfbDvXTsJc/s1600-h/IMG_3379.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_EyRdDJfaI/AAAAAAAABeY/_qfbDvXTsJc/s320/IMG_3379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979921517149602" border="0" /></a>From the lawn we walked another few kilometers down to the old royal hunting lodge and gardens. In the more sheltered gardens, many of the trees already had leaves.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex3dDJfRI/AAAAAAAABdQ/LAh4korWXw0/s1600-h/IMG_3385.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex3dDJfRI/AAAAAAAABdQ/LAh4korWXw0/s320/IMG_3385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979474840550674" border="0" /></a>Hard to believe this was a weekend hunting lodge.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex39DJfSI/AAAAAAAABdY/rVo5hoOLv8g/s1600-h/IMG_3392.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex39DJfSI/AAAAAAAABdY/rVo5hoOLv8g/s320/IMG_3392.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979483430485282" border="0" /></a>I really like this photo with the dormers, chimneys, and clock tower all jumbled in together.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex4dDJfTI/AAAAAAAABdg/6ybTWeU1oCM/s1600-h/IMG_3394.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex4dDJfTI/AAAAAAAABdg/6ybTWeU1oCM/s320/IMG_3394.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979492020419890" border="0" /></a>The main house is connected to the stables on either side by these verandas which Szilvia fell in low with.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex49DJfUI/AAAAAAAABdo/DY-Hh8eEUEk/s1600-h/IMG_3395.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex49DJfUI/AAAAAAAABdo/DY-Hh8eEUEk/s320/IMG_3395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979500610354498" border="0" /></a>A little ways down from the house there is a small "zoo" with some deer and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mouflon">mouflons</a> like the one below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex5NDJfVI/AAAAAAAABdw/yoCsNY8PWS0/s1600-h/IMG_3398.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R_Ex5NDJfVI/AAAAAAAABdw/yoCsNY8PWS0/s320/IMG_3398.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183979504905321810" border="0" /></a>After the hike, I went back to Haus Döbling and signed into Skype for a phone interview. The interview was for a job at Queen's as an "iCon" during the school year. I found out today that I got the job, so that's some good news, now all I need is a summer job. If anyone knows of anyone hiring for jobs in Brockville starting after June 9th, the please let me know.<br /><br />So, as I said, March was an interesting month, I just don't know where it went, it was over so quickly. April is my last full month of work, and hopefully the nice weather will bring some adventure with it.<br /><br />Speaking of adventure, I leave for my next one on Friday morning. I'll be meeting up with my friend Henrik who's living in Munich, but I won't tell you where until I return. Should be fun, but apparently the weather is supposed to be crappy, c'est la vie!Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-3386395728093184252008-03-03T22:00:00.006+01:002008-03-31T20:33:11.603+02:00Vienna through Ali's cold, wet eyesI meant to do this post (the last of the Ali trilogy) justice, but I have too many other things to tell you, and not nearly enough free time. (Actually, once I got started I couldn't stop and fleshed it out pretty well)<br /><br />As I said in the last post, we arrived in Bratislava with the intension of touring the city before heading back to Vienna. However, the bus to Vienna was coming soon, it was cheaper than we were expecting, and we were tried and hungry. So, plans of seeing Bratislava were quickly replaced with plans to relax in Vienna and cook supper. By the time we got to Vienna we were starving and our supper plans turned into McDonald's while waiting for the tram. Good start.<br /><br />On Thursday and Friday I had to work, so Ali toured the city by herself with her little Vienna City Guide. Thursday night when I got back from work we made pasta (well, Ali made it while I "helped"). One funny thing is that Ali attempted to make an alfredo sauce, which is exactly what Pat tried to make when he visited in August, and both of the sauces inexplicably ended up separating into a curdy-oily sauce. It must be the milk here, maybe the preparation and pasteurization methods are different. Anyone have any idea?<br /><br />After our delicious pasta (it doesn't matter what it looks like, just what it tastes like), we went out to one of my favourite breweries with Cora and her sister's (now-ex) boyfriend. The reason I picked this place was because they let you buy beer by the Maß (1L), like Oktoberfest, which is something different and kinda cool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnux1zqCI/AAAAAAAABc4/7Z2jtTw-BuI/s1600-h/IMG_4305.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnux1zqCI/AAAAAAAABc4/7Z2jtTw-BuI/s320/IMG_4305.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173624125292521506" border="0" /></a>After work on Friday we went to the Staatsoper to see "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nabucco">Nabucco</a>" an opera by Verdi. It was a modern adaptation and was pretty good, although we hadn't looked up the plot online first and were pretty confused for most of it. "Is she a princess or a slave? or both?" After the opera we went across the street to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hotel_Sacher">Hotel Sacher</a> which is the nicest hotel in the city, and is world famous for the chocolate cake invented there, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sachertorte">Sachertorte</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnvR1zqDI/AAAAAAAABdA/y20VDN7bH6o/s1600-h/IMG_4342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnvR1zqDI/AAAAAAAABdA/y20VDN7bH6o/s320/IMG_4342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173624133882456114" border="0" /></a>After our cake and coffee we wandered down Kärtner Straße, past all the expensive stores, like Swarovski.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xndx1zp9I/AAAAAAAABcQ/3sGckeXJmmk/s1600-h/IMG_4348.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xndx1zp9I/AAAAAAAABcQ/3sGckeXJmmk/s320/IMG_4348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623833234745298" border="0" /></a>On Saturday it looked nice out, so I took Ali to the Zentralfriedhof, the huge cemetery in Vienna where all the composers are buried. However, while we were there, walking through the cemetery, the storm-of-the-century started within a matter of minutes. We were drenched, but only on one side of our bodies as the rain was horizontal.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xneR1zp-I/AAAAAAAABcY/QjMCaHrt_3I/s1600-h/IMG_4361.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xneR1zp-I/AAAAAAAABcY/QjMCaHrt_3I/s320/IMG_4361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623841824679906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnex1zp_I/AAAAAAAABcg/fmcESDo0Jnw/s1600-h/IMG_4362.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnex1zp_I/AAAAAAAABcg/fmcESDo0Jnw/s320/IMG_4362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623850414614514" border="0" /></a>We darted to the tram and headed into the city center where the rain would hopefully be finished. It mostly was, so we wandered around, stopping into some of the big landmarks which I have mentioned many times before. In the mid-afternoon we met up with Ali's friend Nicole who goes to McGill with Ali and had just recently arrived in Vienna on a semester abroad. We sat at an Aida, a Viennese coffee and dessert café and talked over some pastries and coffee. As we were leaving, Nicole invited us to her house-warming party that night.<br /><br />For supper we met up with Szilvia and Gabi, co-workers of mine, for running sushi. It was a lot of fun, a first for Ali and I, and I ate far too much. There was just too much there to pick from and it was all-you-can-eat so my normal gluttony/frugality balance, which keeps me from being 300lbs, was upset.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnfR1zqAI/AAAAAAAABco/5LCexIX-4WU/s1600-h/IMG_4369.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnfR1zqAI/AAAAAAAABco/5LCexIX-4WU/s320/IMG_4369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623859004549122" border="0" /></a>After stuffing ourselves with sushi we walked to Nicole's place, which was just a few minutes around the corner. At first the party looked a little lame, a bunch of people sitting around a small table playing their own version of "Hedbanz" in German. Ali and I joined in, I was James Bond, she was Falco. At least we didn't lose, guessing our identities well before some others. Ali tried to play in German and did very well, copying questions asked by others or making half-English half-German sentences.<br /><br />From Nicole's apartment we went out to a club, actually a first for me, at least in Vienna.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnfx1zqBI/AAAAAAAABcw/8H7sgDpot2M/s1600-h/IMG_4386.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xnfx1zqBI/AAAAAAAABcw/8H7sgDpot2M/s320/IMG_4386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173623867594483730" border="0" /></a>On Sunday we had planned to take the train to Salzburg, but bad weather and non-existent funds led to us just relaxing all day.<br /><br />Ali's flight back to Montreal was to leave early Monday morning, so early that we thought the first airport-train wouldn't give her enough time. So, we planned for her to catch the last train Sunday night a little after 11pm. However, due to the windstorm (which blew trees onto the tracks, and toppled a crane onto Südbahnhof, Vienna's main train station) the train never came...<br /><br />I freaked out a bit, thinking that Ali would miss her flight, and phoned my friend Stefan to try and figure out what I should do. He phoned the airport-taxi company, but they were booked solid. Finally, we decided that the only realistic option would be to go back to my place, and order a cab which could take Ali to the main airport-train station (which would hopefully still be open and running) in time for the first airport-train. She would have to rush, but would get there. It ended up working out, and Ali avoided an uncomfortable night in the airport, so it wasn't all that bad.<br /><br />Overall Ali's visit was a lot of fun; expensive, but worth it. It's too bad that more of my friends couldn't visit, but the $1000 trans-Atlantic plane ticket is a harsh reality. The next post will cover the entire month of March (which felt 8 days long), and should be done soon, as I'm leaving on Friday for a spur-of-the-moment trip, which I will tell you all about when I get back.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-58132953794422527312008-03-03T21:37:00.012+01:002008-03-21T23:07:02.391+01:00Barcelona: Tapas, Tapas, TapasThis post is part 2 of 3 chronicling my trip to Venice and Barcelona with my Canadian friend Allison.<br />We landed in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Girona</span> and took a hour long bus to the center of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barcelona">Barcelona</a>. By the time we arrived it was already dark out, so we found the subway, and took it directly to our hostel. When we arrived at the front door to our hostel the front gate was locked and none of the buzzers on the door listed the name of the hostel. There was a sign though, with an arrow pointing over to another door, so we tried the buzzer there and got a really angry reply in Catalan, not what we wanted. Eventually a group of American girls walked right up to the door and unlocked it, they said we could follow them in.<br /><br />The hostel was pretty nice, with big common areas including a kitchenette and a TV room with a whole pile of DVDs. That night we went out to a restaurant around the corner and sat outside drinking wine and eating <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tapas">tapas</a>. Tapas are basically small appetizers meant to be bought in groups and shared around. As a rule they are delicious, and interesting. However, their cheap price and deliciousness forces you to order much more than you really should, as we were to learn...<br /><br />The firs morning (Monday) we headed straight for the most iconic tourist attraction in Barcelona, the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagrada_Fam%C3%ADlia"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sagrada</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Familia</span></a>. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sagrada</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Familia</span> is the only modern church of this scale currently under construction in the world. The church was designed by the famous architect <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antoni_Gaud%C3%AD">Antoni <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Gaudi</span></a> who also designed many other buildings, and a park, in Barcelona, and construction began in 1882. Almost every piece of stone in the building is uniquely shaped based on complex geometries or natural forms, so construction was expected to take hundreds of years. However, due to modern advances in computer modeling, the expected date of completion is 2026.<br /><br />The Nativity facade was the first portion to be completed and is therefore more or less true to the original <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Gaudi</span> designs. If you click on the picture to see it in a larger version you'll notice the detail and rich colours of the steeples and the tree covered in white doves. Every inch of this building is covered in layer upon layer of detail and symbolism.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlzx1zp4I/AAAAAAAABbo/Qvm-2QRYUhA/s1600-h/IMG_3177.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlzx1zp4I/AAAAAAAABbo/Qvm-2QRYUhA/s320/IMG_3177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622012168611714" border="0" /></a>The addition of modern cranes and techniques to the construction of the church has taken centuries off of the construction, and created an odd mix of ancient stone craft and modern technology.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl0R1zp5I/AAAAAAAABbw/WiGBUA1o8WI/s1600-h/IMG_3181.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl0R1zp5I/AAAAAAAABbw/WiGBUA1o8WI/s320/IMG_3181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622020758546322" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Sagrada</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Familia</span> is a unique site, attracting millions of visitors a year, who's admission fees help pay for the cost of construction. One thing that makes visiting the site so special is the organic character of the building; it is constantly growing and changing, making each visit unique and unrepeatable.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl1R1zp6I/AAAAAAAABb4/M5j1_f5NyqA/s1600-h/IMG_3182.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl1R1zp6I/AAAAAAAABb4/M5j1_f5NyqA/s320/IMG_3182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622037938415522" border="0" /></a>The Nativity facade features scenes from the birth of Jesus from the classics which would be expected to odd things like the killing of the innocents (a statue of a roman soldier killing an infant).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl2R1zp7I/AAAAAAAABcA/F-fFsRrFksM/s1600-h/IMG_3185.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl2R1zp7I/AAAAAAAABcA/F-fFsRrFksM/s320/IMG_3185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622055118284722" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R-AoGRdCrPI/AAAAAAAABdI/RVCc5mOWdPg/s1600-h/IMG_3226.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R-AoGRdCrPI/AAAAAAAABdI/RVCc5mOWdPg/s320/IMG_3226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179183659705609458" border="0" /></a>During the Spanish civil war, most of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Gaudi's</span> sketches, designs, and plaster models were destroyed. The remaining pieces were compiled, and the plaster models are still being reconstructed from the fragments today. As detailed images of the original design have been lost, and out of respect for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Gaudi</span>, subsequent architects haven't attempted to pass-off their work as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Gaudi</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">esque</span>, instead using their own styles inspired by their own era. The Passion facade illustrates this perfectly, with its simplicity starkly contrasting the organic detail of the Nativity facade.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlaR1zpzI/AAAAAAAABbA/ubq4Snfm6jU/s1600-h/IMG_3191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlaR1zpzI/AAAAAAAABbA/ubq4Snfm6jU/s320/IMG_3191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621574081947442" border="0" /></a>The statues on the Passion facade portray events from the Passion (the final days of Jesus' life), such as the last supper.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl3B1zp8I/AAAAAAAABcI/qucYz07Vc6Q/s1600-h/IMG_3190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xl3B1zp8I/AAAAAAAABcI/qucYz07Vc6Q/s320/IMG_3190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173622068003186626" border="0" /></a>The square on the wall between the Roman soldier and Judas betraying Jesus is called a "<a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=1533912863050668102&postID=5813295379442252731">Magic Square</a>" and is included because the numbers in all rows and diagonals of the square can be added up to 33 (the age of Jesus during the Passion).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlax1zp0I/AAAAAAAABbI/RfyaSbCev9w/s1600-h/IMG_3197.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlax1zp0I/AAAAAAAABbI/RfyaSbCev9w/s320/IMG_3197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621582671882050" border="0" /></a>The simplicity of the sculptures directly contrasted with the complexity of the large bronze doors which are covered in religious words from the Bible.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlbh1zp1I/AAAAAAAABbQ/U75CvJ9Cq6I/s1600-h/IMG_3198.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlbh1zp1I/AAAAAAAABbQ/U75CvJ9Cq6I/s320/IMG_3198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621595556783954" border="0" /></a>Peter denying Jesus.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlcR1zp2I/AAAAAAAABbY/11q_kEzBDMU/s1600-h/IMG_3199.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlcR1zp2I/AAAAAAAABbY/11q_kEzBDMU/s320/IMG_3199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621608441685858" border="0" /></a>Close-up of the door<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlcx1zp3I/AAAAAAAABbg/vakwokY2hU8/s1600-h/IMG_3203.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlcx1zp3I/AAAAAAAABbg/vakwokY2hU8/s320/IMG_3203.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621617031620466" border="0" /></a>The columns which support the roof and the massive towers still to be built really show <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Gaudi's</span> genius. First, the cross section of the columns is continuously changing, starting as a square then becoming am 8-pointed star, then shifting into a circle. The square to star pattern is generated by rotating two squares in opposite directions and looking at the overlapped area. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">You</span> may also notice that the large columns are also different colours, this is because they are built from different types of stone depending on the weight they are required to carry. Instead of changing the size or spacing of columns, as is done in all other buildings, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Gaudi</span> simply chose to build the columns which support more weight out of a stronger and stronger stone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xk4x1zpuI/AAAAAAAABaY/ujA6F_5mnQM/s1600-h/IMG_3209.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xk4x1zpuI/AAAAAAAABaY/ujA6F_5mnQM/s320/IMG_3209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173620998556329698" border="0" /></a>The vaulted ceiling is meant to resemble a tree canopy, notice the light pouring in from the section where <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">th</span>e roof is not yet complete, and the complete lack of windows.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xk_R1zpvI/AAAAAAAABag/MvPQVQRSPcs/s1600-h/IMG_3211.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xk_R1zpvI/AAAAAAAABag/MvPQVQRSPcs/s320/IMG_3211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621110225479410" border="0" /></a>After spending a long time touring the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Sagrada</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Familia</span> we decided to tour the historical city center. This courtyard is the old rector's house by the main medieval cathedral, the palm tree is 115 years old, and the walls of the house include parts of the city walls built by the Romans over 2000 years ago. Across the street from this house a woman sat singing in a doorway to the church, her song sounded very eerie and added a whole different calming mood to the courtyard.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlAB1zpwI/AAAAAAAABao/xeSJb2gsrnc/s1600-h/IMG_3240.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlAB1zpwI/AAAAAAAABao/xeSJb2gsrnc/s320/IMG_3240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621123110381314" border="0" /></a>If you lived to be 115, you'd need some help standing up too.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlAx1zpxI/AAAAAAAABaw/Z7_VDEXft78/s1600-h/IMG_3241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlAx1zpxI/AAAAAAAABaw/Z7_VDEXft78/s320/IMG_3241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621135995283218" border="0" /></a>The cathedral, originally built between the 13<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">th</span> and 15<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">th</span> centuries was under extensive exterior renovation, so this is the only portion I could get a photo of without scaffolding.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlBR1zpyI/AAAAAAAABa4/rPpPA2MLa38/s1600-h/IMG_3249.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xlBR1zpyI/AAAAAAAABa4/rPpPA2MLa38/s320/IMG_3249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173621144585217826" border="0" /></a>The woman who was singing the eerie song was sitting in the doorway below this facade.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjnh1zpmI/AAAAAAAABZg/dt3XHMI_hok/s1600-h/IMG_3253.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjnh1zpmI/AAAAAAAABZg/dt3XHMI_hok/s320/IMG_3253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619602691958370" border="0" /></a>From the cathedral we decided to walk towards <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Rambla%2C_Barcelona">La <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Rambla</span></a>, a large boulevard and shopping district in Barcelona. Walking through the narrow streets we passed some unique stores. One had this statue holding a blue neon tube out front, giving Ali and I the opportunity to take cool colour-select photos.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjoB1zpnI/AAAAAAAABZo/M7VdrACTdjU/s1600-h/IMG_3257.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjoB1zpnI/AAAAAAAABZo/M7VdrACTdjU/s320/IMG_3257.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619611281892978" border="0" /></a>When we finally got to La <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Rambla</span>, there wasn't much to see, likely because it was a cool Monday afternoon in February. One of the highlights was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercat_de_la_Boqueria">La <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Boqueria</span></a>, a huge covered market.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjoh1zpoI/AAAAAAAABZw/UNTRhdrOeaE/s1600-h/IMG_3260.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjoh1zpoI/AAAAAAAABZw/UNTRhdrOeaE/s320/IMG_3260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619619871827586" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiSB1zpWI/AAAAAAAABXg/fNq9vN-gj3w/s1600-h/IMG_4211.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiSB1zpWI/AAAAAAAABXg/fNq9vN-gj3w/s320/IMG_4211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618133813142882" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh5B1zpPI/AAAAAAAABWo/_sLogqdFdQ0/s1600-h/IMG_4213.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh5B1zpPI/AAAAAAAABWo/_sLogqdFdQ0/s320/IMG_4213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173617704316413170" border="0" /></a>From the market we took the subway down to the end of La <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Rambla</span> to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arc_de_Triomf">Arc <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Triomf</span></a>, built in 1888 for the Universal Exhibition.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjVR1zpiI/AAAAAAAABZA/H7uCgS1Gdb8/s1600-h/IMG_3268.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjVR1zpiI/AAAAAAAABZA/H7uCgS1Gdb8/s320/IMG_3268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619289159345698" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Barcelonan</span> Arc <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Triomf</span> is much smaller than the Parisian one, but just as detailed.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjpR1zppI/AAAAAAAABZ4/FSTHOSjvoUo/s1600-h/IMG_3262.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjpR1zppI/AAAAAAAABZ4/FSTHOSjvoUo/s320/IMG_3262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619632756729490" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjph1zpqI/AAAAAAAABaA/SmS_aRrYU1E/s1600-h/IMG_3265.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjph1zpqI/AAAAAAAABaA/SmS_aRrYU1E/s320/IMG_3265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619637051696802" border="0" /></a>I especially liked the bats holding up the arches.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjUx1zphI/AAAAAAAABY4/-Xd9y2KYnTc/s1600-h/IMG_3266.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjUx1zphI/AAAAAAAABY4/-Xd9y2KYnTc/s320/IMG_3266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619280569411090" border="0" /></a>The Arc <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Triomf</span> is located within a large park, which had palm trees, and working fountains, a rare sight in February, even in Barcelona.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjVx1zpjI/AAAAAAAABZI/l6pUjV3SIxU/s1600-h/IMG_3282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjVx1zpjI/AAAAAAAABZI/l6pUjV3SIxU/s320/IMG_3282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619297749280306" border="0" /></a>The central fountain and pavilion was under renovation.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjWh1zpkI/AAAAAAAABZQ/ZDd_u1sxKhI/s1600-h/IMG_3286.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjWh1zpkI/AAAAAAAABZQ/ZDd_u1sxKhI/s320/IMG_3286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619310634182210" border="0" /></a>After the park, we decided to do as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Barcelonans</span> do, and go back for a siesta. The subway exit closest to our hostel was directly in front of a famous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Gaudi</span> house, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casa_Batll%C3%B3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Casa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Batllo</span></a>, which also shows his organic, almost skeletal, style of architecture.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjXB1zplI/AAAAAAAABZY/rPVLk8Y8XC0/s1600-h/IMG_3288.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjXB1zplI/AAAAAAAABZY/rPVLk8Y8XC0/s320/IMG_3288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173619319224116818" border="0" /></a>That night we went out to another Tapas restaurant which had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">placemat</span> covered in photos of the 60+ different tapas selections to chose from. We just kept ordering, as everything was amazing, which resulted in the bill being far higher than either of us would have ever expected... but it was definitely worth every penny.<br /><br />The weather on the Tuesday was much nicer, so we decided to visit <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Park_G%C3%BCell">Park Güell</a>, a large public park designed by Gaudi. The way from the subway to the park was up a very steep still, with outdoor escalators!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xi_x1zpcI/AAAAAAAABYQ/nLALmI34gVo/s1600-h/IMG_3289.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xi_x1zpcI/AAAAAAAABYQ/nLALmI34gVo/s320/IMG_3289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618919792158146" border="0" /></a>Even though it was warm enough to walk around in short sleeves in February, seeing the cacti growing wild in the park was what really made me realize how nice and warm Barcelona was.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjAR1zpdI/AAAAAAAABYY/plbA_52J6xI/s1600-h/IMG_3291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjAR1zpdI/AAAAAAAABYY/plbA_52J6xI/s320/IMG_3291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618928382092754" border="0" /></a>In the center of the park there is a large pavilion designed by Gaudi as a location for a public market.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjAx1zpeI/AAAAAAAABYg/PK1HyGN3nAA/s1600-h/IMG_3296.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjAx1zpeI/AAAAAAAABYg/PK1HyGN3nAA/s320/IMG_3296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618936972027362" border="0" /></a>Many of the surfaces are covered with broken tile mosaics in cool patterns. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh5x1zpQI/AAAAAAAABWw/ZLvhY-wPp4U/s1600-h/IMG_4244.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh5x1zpQI/AAAAAAAABWw/ZLvhY-wPp4U/s320/IMG_4244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173617717201315074" border="0" /></a>From the top of the pavilion you can look down on the park, which was already in bloom and filled with birds chirping away.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjBR1zpfI/AAAAAAAABYo/n7uj99SyGP0/s1600-h/IMG_3308.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjBR1zpfI/AAAAAAAABYo/n7uj99SyGP0/s320/IMG_3308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618945561961970" border="0" /></a>This photo, taken by Ali, makes the trumpet player look all alone. In reality, there were crowds of people all around selling cheap souvenirs and sitting around taking in the atmosphere. The entire edge of the plaza was lined with a continuous bench covered in the same broken tile mosaics in organic and creative patterns.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh6R1zpRI/AAAAAAAABW4/GBsQw-lSYf8/s1600-h/IMG_4247.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xh6R1zpRI/AAAAAAAABW4/GBsQw-lSYf8/s320/IMG_4247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173617725791249682" border="0" /></a>Gaudi's designs are inspired by nature; this colonnade is a wave of stone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjBx1zpgI/AAAAAAAABYw/SVoe4p3gJDg/s1600-h/IMG_3317.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xjBx1zpgI/AAAAAAAABYw/SVoe4p3gJDg/s320/IMG_3317.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618954151896578" border="0" /></a>If you look closely or enlarge this (slightly fuzzy) photo you can see the family of small green parrots living in the palm tree (in the upper right corner). They reminded Ali and I of our friend Seanna's pet parrot Squeak. We kept on hearing the parrots, but it took us a while to actually find them, hidden away in the palm tree.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xijh1zpXI/AAAAAAAABXo/wxfX3dAVPzo/s1600-h/IMG_3322.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xijh1zpXI/AAAAAAAABXo/wxfX3dAVPzo/s320/IMG_3322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618434460853618" border="0" /></a>From Park Güell, built up on a large hill, you can look down on Barcelona and out to the Mediterranean. By far the most recognizable sight on the skyline is the Sagrada Familia surrounded by cranes. This view will change as the other facades are built and the central steeples grow to their full height which will be taller than the highest crane. There's a model of the finished design showing the same angle as this photo <a href="http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imagen:Sagrada_Familia-Gl%C3%B2ria.jpg">here</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xijx1zpYI/AAAAAAAABXw/WOVeX37bc28/s1600-h/IMG_3323.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xijx1zpYI/AAAAAAAABXw/WOVeX37bc28/s320/IMG_3323.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618438755820930" border="0" /></a>From the top of Park Güell we took the subway down to the sea.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xikR1zpZI/AAAAAAAABX4/CWpnjLdLYNI/s1600-h/IMG_3331.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xikR1zpZI/AAAAAAAABX4/CWpnjLdLYNI/s320/IMG_3331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618447345755538" border="0" /></a>The Barcelonans were bundled up against the "cold", but the dumb Canadians decided to roll up their jeans and walk right in. Surprisingly, it wasn't even that cold, about the same temperature as the St.Lawrence in June (which we voluntarily swim in).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xikh1zpaI/AAAAAAAABYA/fN2EOa6oE7k/s1600-h/IMG_3333.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xikh1zpaI/AAAAAAAABYA/fN2EOa6oE7k/s320/IMG_3333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618451640722850" border="0" /></a>While walking down the beach we passed kids playing on this play structure. I found the red geometrical structure set against the horizontal bands of light sand, aqua sea, and blue sky punctuated by playing children fascinating. This is definitely my favourite photo from the whole trip, and possibly from my entire time in Europe.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xilR1zpbI/AAAAAAAABYI/IlCNJoYOGSI/s1600-h/IMG_3335.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xilR1zpbI/AAAAAAAABYI/IlCNJoYOGSI/s320/IMG_3335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618464525624754" border="0" /></a>We walked around the harbour and decided to find the monument to Christopher Columbus.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiQB1zpSI/AAAAAAAABXA/hOLBtXI9Raw/s1600-h/IMG_3336.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiQB1zpSI/AAAAAAAABXA/hOLBtXI9Raw/s320/IMG_3336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618099453404450" border="0" /></a>It was 22C, but the wind coming off the water cooled it down, making it feel like ~12C. I think this is the first time in my entire life that I have felt temperatures this warm in February, -22C plenty of times, but never +22C.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiQR1zpTI/AAAAAAAABXI/2CQO0oyB3Sg/s1600-h/IMG_3338.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiQR1zpTI/AAAAAAAABXI/2CQO0oyB3Sg/s320/IMG_3338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618103748371762" border="0" /></a>The monument to Christopher Columbus it placed right at the end of La Rambla by the harbour.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiRB1zpUI/AAAAAAAABXQ/q3WtT-dKYqk/s1600-h/IMG_3341.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiRB1zpUI/AAAAAAAABXQ/q3WtT-dKYqk/s320/IMG_3341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618116633273666" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiRh1zpVI/AAAAAAAABXY/VCWH40Y1P0M/s1600-h/IMG_3345.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xiRh1zpVI/AAAAAAAABXY/VCWH40Y1P0M/s320/IMG_3345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173618125223208274" border="0" /></a>From La Rambla, we walked around, stopped into a little bar for a drink, and then went back for a siesta. For supper we went back to the beach and found a little tapas restaurant suggested to us by a woman who worked at the hostel. No one in the restaurant spoke English, and being a true tapas restaurant there was no menu (or listed prices...) so, Ali used her caveman communication skills to order us a little bit of everything and a bottle of wine. When we got back to our table, it had been taken by someone else, but we managed to find a seat inside. The wine came first, in a chilled bottle with two ice-cold frosty wine glasses. The only reason I could think of for serving chilled red wine in frosted glasses was to make a cheap home-made wine taste better. Anyone have any other ideas? It tasted fine. Then the food arrived, dish after dish. It's hard to remember everything but it was all amazing, the best food of the trip, by far. We had shrimp, pork, mussels, potatoes, olives, and many more delicious things. It's too bad we were too concerned with devouring the food to stop and take photos of it. When the bill came, we were a little shocked, but our stomachs were full and we were content.<br /><br />From the tapas restaurant we walked off the meal then took the subway to "Manhattan" a jazz club in the old city center. It was really cool, I had never really seen live jazz before, but we only stayed for a while because we wanted to catch the last subway and we were dead tired.<br /><br />The next morning we caught our bus to the airport and flew back to Bratislava, Slovakia which is the closest Ryan Air airport to Vienna, about 90min away by bus. Our initial plan was to tour the city before going back, but we were hungry and poor, so we decide to go straight back and make supper.<br /><br />Ali's few days in Vienna will be covered in the third, last, and shortest post of this series on our trip which will hopefully follow very soon as I have other things I want to get to.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-15369507352096711142008-03-03T21:04:00.000+01:002008-03-07T23:35:25.817+01:00Venice: The city of water... and fogAli arrived last Friday so I left work early to meet her at the airport. For my birthday she gave me a really cool <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Moleskine</span> book for Venice with maps, and lots of room for notes. It ended up coming in really handy to keep everything together and help us get back to a cheap pizza place we found by the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Rialto</span>, which I will definitely visit when I go back in May.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcRh1zoxI/AAAAAAAABS4/Fu-QhcrbVJI/s1600-h/IMG_3964.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcRh1zoxI/AAAAAAAABS4/Fu-QhcrbVJI/s320/IMG_3964.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173611528153441042" border="0" /></a>When she arrived we took all her stuff back to my room, then went and got a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">schnitzel</span> from the "Schnitzel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Haus</span>" across the street. While we ate schnitzel and watched an episode of Extras we packed our big look-at-me-I'm-a-tourist backpacks and then set out to see the city.<br /><br />The Vienna transit system is an honour system, enforced with random checks. However, these checks are almost entirely (if not only) on the subway system and night <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">buses</span>. Therefore, you can take unlimited trams and buses without much fear of being caught. So, we took a tram into the city center.<br /><br />We had about 2 hours to kill, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">so</span> I showed Ali the major sights as we took the scenic route to the train station. Since late January there has been a large ice rink in front of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Rathaus</span> (city hall) which also winds along the paths throughout the park. As the Viennese winter is like early fall in Canada the rink is laid on top of a mat of refrigeration tubes to keep it frozen. This comes in really handy because it has been very very nice here, having "snowed" only TWICE since Christmas, with never enough to completely cover the grass before melting away. Sorry Canadians, had to rub it in...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcSR1zoyI/AAAAAAAABTA/je7TdGV-JJ0/s1600-h/IMG_3975.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcSR1zoyI/AAAAAAAABTA/je7TdGV-JJ0/s320/IMG_3975.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173611541038342946" border="0" /></a>We got on the night train to Venice around 8:30pm and settled into our bunks for our 12 hour trip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcUh1zozI/AAAAAAAABTI/lCVhwlF4IZc/s1600-h/IMG_4009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcUh1zozI/AAAAAAAABTI/lCVhwlF4IZc/s320/IMG_4009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173611579693048626" border="0" /></a>We arrived in Venice at 8:00 Saturday morning to find the city waking up to a light dusting of fog, which we assumed would lift as the day went on...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgqR1zpKI/AAAAAAAABWA/FR7z7Hfsr6A/s1600-h/IMG_2997.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgqR1zpKI/AAAAAAAABWA/FR7z7Hfsr6A/s320/IMG_2997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616351401714850" border="0" /></a>The ferry to the island of Lido (where our hostel was) was an hour long but it toured down the grand canal, under the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Rialto</span> bridge, and past St.Marks square, making it more of a treat than a trip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgrR1zpLI/AAAAAAAABWI/TevhdvF0ZEA/s1600-h/IMG_2999.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgrR1zpLI/AAAAAAAABWI/TevhdvF0ZEA/s320/IMG_2999.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616368581584050" border="0" /></a>Our Hostel "Livia <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Oliva</span>" was a small B&B on the island of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lido">Lido</a>, and was actually a nice woman's house with 3 extra rooms and a small dining room for guests. We dropped our heavy bags off in our room (we were upgraded to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ensuite</span> room!), grabbed our keys, and headed back to Venice across the lagoon using the direct boat which was much faster and closer to the B&B.<br /><br />Venice is a city like no other, it maintains it's charm in spite of the tourist trade, because it has no other practical options. Gondolas anchored to wooden piles are cheaper and easier to run than the few small boats anchored to fancy docks, so they stay.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgrx1zpMI/AAAAAAAABWQ/t1FQ9Q9VVu8/s1600-h/IMG_3002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgrx1zpMI/AAAAAAAABWQ/t1FQ9Q9VVu8/s320/IMG_3002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616377171518658" border="0" /></a>The city felt like a movie set or a Disneyland attraction because it was so drastically different. A city without cars, trucks, buses, bikes, skateboards, or mopeds, in places all you could hear were people talking in a smattering of the world's languages underscored by the continuous lapping of waves and trickling of water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgsB1zpNI/AAAAAAAABWY/tuLyrs29fkk/s1600-h/IMG_3015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgsB1zpNI/AAAAAAAABWY/tuLyrs29fkk/s320/IMG_3015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616381466485970" border="0" /></a>We wandered around the small alleyways on the main island of San Marco until we came upon the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_San_Marco">Piazza San Marco</a>. The highlights of the Piazza are the ornate <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_di_San_Marco">Basilica <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">di</span> San Marco</a> and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Mark%27s_Campanile">Campanile</a> (bell tower). The Campanile has been there in one form or another since the 9<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">th</span> century, but this one was finished in 1912 after the previous one collapsed in 1902.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgVR1zpGI/AAAAAAAABVg/uKls-F0YtdI/s1600-h/IMG_3034.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgVR1zpGI/AAAAAAAABVg/uKls-F0YtdI/s320/IMG_3034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615990624461922" border="0" /></a>The Piazza San Marco is probably most famous for the huge flock of pigeons which infest the square and mob the tourists and children who voluntarily cover themselves in bird food as if to say "Hey Ma, look at me! I'm covered in disease!". This woman was selling the packages of food for 1€, and had lots of friends to keep her company.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgsx1zpOI/AAAAAAAABWg/77xgIuMlcL8/s1600-h/IMG_3028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgsx1zpOI/AAAAAAAABWg/77xgIuMlcL8/s320/IMG_3028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616394351387874" border="0" /></a>We decided to avoid bird flu and instead chased the pigeons. It was tempting not to kick them, a they get so close to you. They were like little smelly footballs with legs. Smelly? Yes. Even on a cool day, a large overfed flock of greasy dirty pigeons have an overwhelming aroma of... greasy dirty pigeon.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgUx1zpFI/AAAAAAAABVY/Fo6FgbwsB6U/s1600-h/IMG_3031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgUx1zpFI/AAAAAAAABVY/Fo6FgbwsB6U/s320/IMG_3031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615982034527314" border="0" /></a>The symbol of Venice is the lion. This is because the Venetians stole the remains of St.Mark the Apostle and smuggled him out of Alexandria, Egypt in the 9<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">th</span> century to place him in their basilica, and St.Mark's symbol is the winged lion. Apparently back in the day some Venetian s would keep live lions in their gardens as a symbol of status. The thought of walking through the twisting alleyways of Medieval Venice at night with only a torch to light the way surrounded by the roars of lions is terrifying. This lion, on display in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Piazzetta</span> San Marco was apparently stolen from the Turks at some point in the past.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgVh1zpHI/AAAAAAAABVo/f3AWxsBeEQE/s1600-h/IMG_3045.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgVh1zpHI/AAAAAAAABVo/f3AWxsBeEQE/s320/IMG_3045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615994919429234" border="0" /></a>The basilica was very ornate, made from a rainbow of marbles, mosaics, and gold. The photo below is of the main entrance, as photos weren't allowed inside. The interior was amazing, with domed ceilings completely covered in golden mosaics in all different styles dating from the 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">th</span>-16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">th</span> centuries.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgWh1zpII/AAAAAAAABVw/OALm1fU8WNo/s1600-h/IMG_3052.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgWh1zpII/AAAAAAAABVw/OALm1fU8WNo/s320/IMG_3052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616012099298434" border="0" /></a>After touring the basilica we wandered around Venice, stopping to take photos here and there.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgXB1zpJI/AAAAAAAABV4/pUlzII1O-3k/s1600-h/IMG_3064.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgXB1zpJI/AAAAAAAABV4/pUlzII1O-3k/s320/IMG_3064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173616020689233042" border="0" /></a>We turned a corner and came upon the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rialto_Bridge"> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Rialto</span></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rialto_Bridge"> bridge</a>. The bridge has three sets of stairs, with the two narrower side staircases separated from the large central one by a line of store booths selling souvenirs. The stone bridge is over 400 years old, meaning the small arched booths now selling tacky souvenirs have seen dozens of generations of owners work their entire lives beneath them. The bridge was completed 5 years before Shakespeare wrote the Merchant of Venice, that's some good engineering.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgBR1zpAI/AAAAAAAABUw/uXS3A5y9gjM/s1600-h/IMG_3069.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgBR1zpAI/AAAAAAAABUw/uXS3A5y9gjM/s320/IMG_3069.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615647027078146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgCB1zpBI/AAAAAAAABU4/HW7-6zmKoGU/s1600-h/IMG_3070.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgCB1zpBI/AAAAAAAABU4/HW7-6zmKoGU/s320/IMG_3070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615659911980050" border="0" /></a>The View down the Grand Canal. To the left you can see the large ferry-buses which allow you to get throughout the city fairly easily.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgCh1zpCI/AAAAAAAABVA/sxDve_gsl20/s1600-h/IMG_3073.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgCh1zpCI/AAAAAAAABVA/sxDve_gsl20/s320/IMG_3073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615668501914658" border="0" /></a>A photo of me sporting my only Venetian souvenir; a wool scarf to keep warm in the chilly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcVR1zo0I/AAAAAAAABTQ/H_iwU6kpLkw/s1600-h/IMG_4092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xcVR1zo0I/AAAAAAAABTQ/H_iwU6kpLkw/s320/IMG_4092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173611592577950530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfOB1zo6I/AAAAAAAABUA/01SugvEYZjk/s1600-h/IMG_3160.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfOB1zo6I/AAAAAAAABUA/01SugvEYZjk/s320/IMG_3160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173614766558782370" border="0" /></a>That night we went to a Vivaldi concert in a former church. Before the concert we waited around outside the church and Ali helped me discover the wonder of a 15 second shutter. My camera is so much better than I ever thought, so many cool options I'm only really discovering now.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgDB1zpDI/AAAAAAAABVI/gfqUOhiJZC8/s1600-h/IMG_3096.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgDB1zpDI/AAAAAAAABVI/gfqUOhiJZC8/s320/IMG_3096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615677091849266" border="0" /></a>With 30 more minutes to kill and a bathroom to find we headed back to the Grand Canal, taking photos with a 15 second exposure as we went.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgDh1zpEI/AAAAAAAABVQ/iN0HUhU7XQk/s1600-h/IMG_3099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xgDh1zpEI/AAAAAAAABVQ/iN0HUhU7XQk/s320/IMG_3099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615685681783874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfeR1zo7I/AAAAAAAABUI/o4U28sFobgE/s1600-h/IMG_3106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfeR1zo7I/AAAAAAAABUI/o4U28sFobgE/s320/IMG_3106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615045731656626" border="0" /></a>The concert was very good, an ensemble called <span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Interpreti</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Veneziani</span></span> with 4 violins, 1 viola, 1 cello, 1 double bass, and a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harpsichord">harpsichord</a>. They played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Vivaldi's</span> 4 Seasons and some other pieces. They all looked like they were having a lot of fun, except for one guy who was very serious and hardcore, having memorized the entire show. However, his solos (every violinist was 1st violin for 1 season) were amazing. Their encore performance was the best of all. They all put down their bows and plucked out a song on the strings of their instruments.<br /><br />After the concert we headed back to catch the ferry to Lido. When we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">transferred</span> ferries near the Piazza San Marco, I got this cool photo of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bridge_of_Sighs">Bridge of Sighs</a> (using a 15 sec exposure). The motor boat which passed through the photo is nothing but a ghost ship with wake.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffB1zo8I/AAAAAAAABUQ/97f6OOr069Y/s1600-h/IMG_3117.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffB1zo8I/AAAAAAAABUQ/97f6OOr069Y/s320/IMG_3117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615058616558530" border="0" /></a>The fog in the lagoon was so thick that we couldn't see anything other than the lights of the ferry reflecting off the thick white mist hovering over the aquamarine water, until the lights of Lido suddenly appeared out of the mist when we were meters from the dock.<br /><br />The next morning we slept in longer than we intended because the bed was far too comfortable. When we woke up breakfast had been laid out in the small dining room and the other guests, a young couple from France (or Switzerland?) were already eating. This place was so nice, and such a great deal that my mom and I will definitely stay there when we visit in May, its already booked.<br /><br />The day before we had hoped that the light fog would lift so that Sunday would be warmer and better for photos. Instead, the fog was much thicker. You couldn't see Venice across the Lagoon, but you could hear all the church bells tolling eerily in the distance.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffR1zo9I/AAAAAAAABUY/SRiOf8CWngE/s1600-h/IMG_3123.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffR1zo9I/AAAAAAAABUY/SRiOf8CWngE/s320/IMG_3123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615062911525842" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffh1zo-I/AAAAAAAABUg/E7RA8I8WDiw/s1600-h/IMG_3124.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xffh1zo-I/AAAAAAAABUg/E7RA8I8WDiw/s320/IMG_3124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615067206493154" border="0" /></a>We got off at the Piazza San Marco and went to the base of the tower to get audio tours. However, it was closed on Sundays, so we took a photo of the gate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfgR1zo_I/AAAAAAAABUo/d14bz8tUDUo/s1600-h/IMG_3136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfgR1zo_I/AAAAAAAABUo/d14bz8tUDUo/s320/IMG_3136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173615080091395058" border="0" /></a>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doge%27s_Palace">Doge's Palace</a> is directly beside the Basilica (which was formally the Doge's chapel).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfLx1zo2I/AAAAAAAABTg/qR7c6SJ6t8g/s1600-h/IMG_3138.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfLx1zo2I/AAAAAAAABTg/qR7c6SJ6t8g/s320/IMG_3138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173614727904076642" border="0" /></a>We toured the Doge's Palace, the bridge of Sighs, and the dungeons. The Palace was very impressive with huge ornate old rooms, but like many historical buildings there is little original furniture so the palace looked fairly empty, and was chillingly cold. If it wasn't for all the velvet robes and wigs the Doge, his family, and the other politicians surely wore the palace would have been a pretty uncomfortable place in the winter.<br /><br />One last foggy view of Piazza San Marco.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfNB1zo4I/AAAAAAAABTw/bC5w1TlIToo/s1600-h/IMG_3146.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfNB1zo4I/AAAAAAAABTw/bC5w1TlIToo/s320/IMG_3146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173614749378913154" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfNh1zo5I/AAAAAAAABT4/hk_-yOKp704/s1600-h/IMG_3159.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfNh1zo5I/AAAAAAAABT4/hk_-yOKp704/s320/IMG_3159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173614757968847762" border="0" /></a>Inside the city the fog was much lighter, but we had run out of time to take a gondola ride.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfMh1zo3I/AAAAAAAABTo/_0e7ykHI-9k/s1600-h/IMG_3144.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R8xfMh1zo3I/AAAAAAAABTo/_0e7ykHI-9k/s320/IMG_3144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173614740788978546" border="0" /></a>After some stressful running around we got tickets for the bus to the airport, which we had to wait for anyways, and traveled the 65 minutes to Treviso, a city on the mainland with a small airport serviced mainly by Ryanair and Sky Europe, Europe's largest low-cost airlines. From Treviso we flew two hours to Girona, Spain then took a bus to the beautiful city of Barcelona.<br /><br />Our two days in Venice were an amazing, but very expensive experience. I can't wait to visit again in May with my mom, but my wallet sure can.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-66898065008676728732008-03-03T20:47:00.000+01:002008-03-03T20:52:10.149+01:00Visitor from Home, Venice, and BarcelonaFor the past 10 days my fiend Allison Hess from Brockville has been visiting me. We took a long weekend trip to Venice and Barcelona then spent the remainder of the time here in Vienna. I'm just about to upload the photos, but I'll do the post in three parts so that it'll be finished before May.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-48472582074223296382008-02-17T14:53:00.000+01:002008-02-17T16:15:10.417+01:00Happy Birthday to MeAs most of you know, today is my 22nd birthday. Last week my mom sent me photos to put up here today, so here they are.<br /><br />First, we go way way back to 1987; my first birthday.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R7g-cMEfvSI/AAAAAAAABSw/DgQYX0YVels/s1600-h/Joe_1st_b-day_cropped.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R7g-cMEfvSI/AAAAAAAABSw/DgQYX0YVels/s320/Joe_1st_b-day_cropped.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167949226404986146" border="0" /></a>Then, we jump ahead 10 (?) years to my mad-scientist Halloween costume.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R7g9EMEfvQI/AAAAAAAABSg/HJFkNk08BfQ/s1600-h/joe_costume.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R7g9EMEfvQI/AAAAAAAABSg/HJFkNk08BfQ/s320/joe_costume.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167947714576497922" border="0" /></a>It may have been a long time since these photos were taken, but some things never change. I'm still a huge nerd who likes to open presents, but gets easily distracted by small things, like delicious wrapping paper.<br /><br />As today is Sunday, we went out for my birthday last night instead. Cora, José, Szilvia, Nikola, the 4 Colombians, and I went to a Japanese restaurant for supper. The place was very hectic, and even though we had a reservation we were shuffled all around the restaurant waiting for our table to become free, but it was ok because the Colombians were late anyways, shocking... The food was really good, except for José's Japanese beer which was apparently sour and numbed his mouth, and Szilvia fell in love with a little Japanese baby eating lychee fruits. As fairly inexperienced Japanese food connoisseurs we all got Bento boxes, my favourite.<br /><br />When we finally arrived at our favourite Irish pub, Charlie P's we were over and hour and a half late for our reservations, but the bartender cleared out or corner for us. Over the next few hours a bunch of people showed up. Every time someone new would arrive they would be very 'discretely' pulled aside to sign my card. Everyone had pooled their money (and stray hairs) to buy me some chocolate and give me the "Joe Steele Hairy Italian Fun Fund". The money is to pay for me to do something fun in Venice next weekend (I'm thinking gondola ride), and the hair is for me to glue onto my chest so I can blend in and look more Italian.<br /><br />This morning I was woken by the sun with only a mild hangover (thank you McDonalds). The first thing I did was open Megan's gift which has been sitting beside my bed for the past week since it arrived. It contained chocolate, candy, sparklers, and a bottle of craft glue, which really confused me, until I opened the last part, a kit to make a cardboard dancing robot. I have to say Megan knows me pretty well.<br /><br />At 11 I went out for a birthday brunch with Cora, Raphael, Arianna, and Johnny at a cool restaurant around the corner that we walk by every day on our way to the U-bahn. The food was very Austrian, with potato salad, schnitzel, and cold cuts instead of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, but it was really good and filling.<br /><br />My mom just phoned to fill me in on the details of the huge birthday feast she's preparing for me back home. After hearing what they're eating I might pass up the instant rice and canned soup that I was planning to make and go across the street and splurge on a €1.80 kebab.<br /><br />Tonight I'm going to the opera with Cora and Arianna. Arianna is an opera singer so it will be cool to get her perspective on everything. The opera tonight is actually two 1 act operas, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cavalleria_rusticana">Cavalleria rusticana</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pagliacci">Pagliacci</a>. Should be fun.<br /><br />The next week will be pretty crazy as I get ready for my trip to Venice and Barcelona, which we have been talking about so long that it feels like it's never actually going to happen. I will be sure to take loads of photos, and if I find any decent photos from last night I'll throw them up here later.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-35100128384971658892008-02-13T15:52:00.000+01:002008-02-13T16:06:29.483+01:00Happy Birthday Dad!Happy Birthday Dad!<br /><br />Sorry that your birthday wish isn't as cool as mom's was, but I really haven't been anywhere cool since being back. I probably could have gotten the King from Ghana to hold up a happy birthday sign, but I only thought of it the next day...<br /><br />Wish I could be home, not only for your birthday, but also for my birthday dinner mom's planning for Sunday. To those of you in Canada who will be at my birthday dinner, have fun, I'm jealous.<br /><br />Here in Vienna I'll be going out with friends and coworkers (who are also friends) on Saturday for dinner and then to our favourite Irish Pub. Then, the morning of my birthday some of us are going out to brunch at a restaurant where they have "Geburtstagkinder Essen Frei!" (birthday children eat free) painted on their window. Apparently the word "Geburtstagkinder" applies to everyone, not just children. So, free food! What more could I ask for?<br /><br />My friend Ali from home comes in 9 days, can't wait for our adventure to start.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-26528884022609689802008-02-02T14:02:00.000+01:002008-02-06T21:29:59.826+01:00First some work, then the month of partiesI've been putting off writing this blog as I was waiting to get photos from people, but who knows when that will happen, so might as well start now before I forget everything.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Wiener Neustadt Civitas Nova</span><br />As most of you already know I work in the city of Wiener Neustadt in the light industry park known as Civitas Nova. Last December I began bringing my camera in the hope of getting some cool winter photos. The one below shows a platform of the Wiener Neustadt train station where we switch trains every morning to board the smaller regional train that takes us the 3 minutes to Civitas Nova. The train to the left is a double-decker "Weasel" train that I love but normally never get to take. The train to the right is an old model regional train; the new ones are more streamlined and flashy than the space shuttle.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr7zucCQI/AAAAAAAABR0/6ldoFJemAwU/s1600-h/IMG_2718.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr7zucCQI/AAAAAAAABR0/6ldoFJemAwU/s320/IMG_2718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162369748114868482" border="0" /></a>ÖBB (<span style="font-size:100%;">Österreichische Bundesbahnen</span>) is the Austrian equivalent of Via Canada. Above the locomotive you can see a part of the pole connecting the train to the electrical wires over the tracks. These wires crisscross all of Europe. Trans-continental travel with zero emissions, gotta love it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8TucCRI/AAAAAAAABR8/ZvEB_l-CD_c/s1600-h/IMG_2721.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8TucCRI/AAAAAAAABR8/ZvEB_l-CD_c/s320/IMG_2721.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162369756704803090" border="0" /></a>From the ghetto Civitas Nova platform we walk through a field to work. The field used was once covered with factories that produced engines, parts, and whole fighter planes during WWII. At one point Wiener Neustadt had the original Daimler factory and was the largest producer of fighter planes in Austria. All of these factories were either bombed, burnt, or abandoned after the war and subsequently torn down. The only sign which remains is the solid reinforced concrete bomb shelter sticking out of the ground. The tunnel leading to the underground shelter is now filled in with gravel, making me wonder what's still down there. Was it hurriedly filled in to hide secrets or left open for decades, looted, and only filled in when it became a drug den for teenagers?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8jucCSI/AAAAAAAABSE/t32_7BiLG3c/s1600-h/IMG_2726.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8jucCSI/AAAAAAAABSE/t32_7BiLG3c/s320/IMG_2726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162369760999770402" border="0" /></a>Directly across from the bomb shelter is our building. There you can see Cora and Stefan walking ahead through the "snow". That is the most snow I've seen yet, and you can still see the dirt through it. Also, ever since I've returned I haven't seen a single flake of snow. The average daily temperatures are around 10 degrees!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8zucCTI/AAAAAAAABSM/FID6EfG6Gh0/s1600-h/IMG_2727.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rr8zucCTI/AAAAAAAABSM/FID6EfG6Gh0/s320/IMG_2727.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162369765294737714" border="0" /></a>From our building (but not my office) you can see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schneeberg_%28Alps%29">Schneeberg</a> (Snow Mountain); it is the most easterly Alp with a summit above 2000m. I took the photo below from the train platform while waiting for the train home last week after work.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrKjucCLI/AAAAAAAABRM/uvSvVnbBDUY/s1600-h/IMG_2789.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrKjucCLI/AAAAAAAABRM/uvSvVnbBDUY/s320/IMG_2789.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368902006311090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">BOKU Ball</span></span><br />The few weeks between new Years and Shrove Tuesday (Carnival) are the ball season here in Austria, with apparently over 300 different balls in Vienna alone. On Thursday January 17th Cora and I went to the BOKU Ball. BOKU (Universität für Bodenkultur, The University of Natural Resources and Applied Life Sciences) hosts a ball every year in a wing of the Hofburg palace. The unique twist of this ball is that many people come dressed in traditional clothing, as you can see by FJ's lederhosen and Cora's borrowed dirndl.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrKzucCMI/AAAAAAAABRU/XiNpVaxAMXo/s1600-h/IMG_2805.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrKzucCMI/AAAAAAAABRU/XiNpVaxAMXo/s320/IMG_2805.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368906301278402" border="0" /></a>Before going to the party we went to an IAESTE Vienna member's apartment to meet up with his friends, and then we all went together. At the party I managed to cut myself while trying to open a beer bottle with a rolled up paper bag (it did work at first, but the more we used it the more ripped and damp the bag got, until it failed catastrophically, resulting in me bleeding all over). Thankfully I got it cleaned up before it stained my shirt, but I looked very classy arriving at the palace with a big red sore on the side of my hand...<br /><br />The main dance floor was in one of the large ballrooms with soaring ceilings covered in gold leaf, murals, marble, and crystal. There was an orchestra playing waltzes, polkas, tangos, and other traditional songs. I didn't stay here long because it was very crowded and I didn't know any of the dances.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrLjucCOI/AAAAAAAABRk/bpaHDGa3PS4/s1600-h/IMG_2831.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrLjucCOI/AAAAAAAABRk/bpaHDGa3PS4/s320/IMG_2831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368919186180322" border="0" /></a>In some of the other rooms there were bands playing other types of music. This room was retro music. I think they need a few more chandeliers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrMTucCPI/AAAAAAAABRs/0JuXvMcP0rk/s1600-h/IMG_2836.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RrMTucCPI/AAAAAAAABRs/0JuXvMcP0rk/s320/IMG_2836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368932071082226" border="0" /></a>We ended up spending most of our time in the discothèque in the basement (which is where they play modern dance music, not Disco). Also, as it was a Thursday, we left fairly early (~1:30am) so that we could actually get to work the next morning. It was fun for my first ball, but little did I know it was only a warm-up for the Bonbon Ball on the following Friday.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aleksandra's Party</span></span><br />The day after the ball one of my coworkers who lives in Wiener Neustadt had a housewarming party which she had been promising since she moved in November. It was a lot of fun, and it really showed us what we're missing out on by living in Vienna, space! Her apartment, which she shares with her Austrian boyfriend, is huge, and her rent is only a few Euros more than what I pay for my jail cell of a room. We were having so much fun that we lost track of time, only realising at 11:10 that the last train back to Vienna was leaving in 20min. We said our goodbyes, grabbed our coats and ran through the narrow medieval streets of Wiener Neustadt to the train station, just catching the train on time. The 7 of us crammed into a 6 person compartment and had a great ride back to Vienna.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Opera Ball</span></span><br />The 31st of January was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vienna_Opera_Ball">Vienna Opera Ball</a>, the highlight of the annual social calendar in Vienna. I obviously didn't go, because it is outrageously expensive, but I thought I'd mention it. They build a set on stage that perfectly mirrors the auditorium, where the floor has been raised to be flush with the stage. This year one of the celebrities there was Teri Hatcher from Desperate Housewives. She was interviewed for Austrian television, and you can watch it on youtube <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=3t-uPIW5BFU">here</a>. There is also another video which shows more of the ball <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=HdlbU1q1V-o">here</a>. This is worth watching just to see how terrified the debutantes and their dates look, but the ballet tribute to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UEFA_Euro_2008">Euro Cup 2008</a> is also pretty cool. Maybe someday when I have a few thousand Euros burning a hole in my pocket I'll come back for the Opera Ball.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Bonbon Ball</span><br />On Friday the 1st of February, the day after the Opera Ball, Cora and I went to the Bonbon ball with two friends Caren and Robert. Cora and I took the subway (feeling slightly out of place) and met them at their apartment where we had some wine and then took a cab to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wiener_Konzerthaus">Konzerthaus</a> where the ball was being held.<br /><br />The Bonbon ball is run by the chocolate and candy companies in Vienna. So, when we arrived we were given cloth bags to fill with candy throughout the night. All through the hallways there were people handing out samples of chocolate, jelly beans, and other things. Off to a good start!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6jucCJI/AAAAAAAABQ8/hz7HpCnmj4g/s1600-h/IMG_2887.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6jucCJI/AAAAAAAABQ8/hz7HpCnmj4g/s320/IMG_2887.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368627128404114" border="0" /></a>When we first walked into the main ballroom we caught the end of the debutante entrance, which you can see a bit of below. All the girls in white dresses are the debutantes. I got a video of them all waltzing together, but I'm having trouble with youtube, so you might have to see it later.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq5TucCGI/AAAAAAAABQk/3Z0DtCSphmg/s1600-h/IMG_2879.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq5TucCGI/AAAAAAAABQk/3Z0DtCSphmg/s320/IMG_2879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368605653567586" border="0" /></a>The bundles of balloons and Jelly Belly mascots hanging from the ceiling all had vouchers attached to them for large bags of assorted candy, cookies, and chocolate. Every 30 minutes one bundle would drop. We would plan to be there every time, showing up 5 minutes before and waltzing into the centre. Maybe it was the fact that neither Cora or I know how to waltz, or maybe it was because everyone was trying to get to the center to be right under the balloons, but waltzing felt more like bumper cars than some classy dance. I think we were just so bad that we couldn't keep up with the flow. When the balloons finally fell everyone would rush to grab the vouchers, which normally fell off as the balloons fell from the ceiling.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6DucCHI/AAAAAAAABQs/s0iMHdFcPCg/s1600-h/IMG_2882.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6DucCHI/AAAAAAAABQs/s0iMHdFcPCg/s320/IMG_2882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368618538469490" border="0" /></a>Smart people, like Robert, went for the vouchers; we went for the empty balloons.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqoTucCEI/AAAAAAAABQU/7oKY35wkT6M/s1600-h/IMG_2923.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqoTucCEI/AAAAAAAABQU/7oKY35wkT6M/s320/IMG_2923.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368313595791426" border="0" /></a>One important part of the ball is the Miss Bonbon competition. The winner of the competition is placed on this bright pink scale and given her weight in candy. This year she was given Manner cookies, which are very light wafer cookies. I wasn't there when the winner was weighed, but even a toothpick of a girl would need a whole lot of wafer cookies to balance out. Cora and Caren were saying that the only reason they give them their weight in candy is to ensure that they never win again.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6TucCII/AAAAAAAABQ0/nXt4Xbm6ywg/s1600-h/IMG_2884.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6Rq6TucCII/AAAAAAAABQ0/nXt4Xbm6ywg/s320/IMG_2884.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368622833436802" border="0" /></a>Down in the discothèque they were playing a lot of modern or fun retro music, so that's where we spent most of our time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqnjucCCI/AAAAAAAABQE/Jsxk7ugtP5U/s1600-h/IMG_2912.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqnjucCCI/AAAAAAAABQE/Jsxk7ugtP5U/s320/IMG_2912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368300710889506" border="0" /></a>At one point Cora and Caren, still distraught over not catching a single balloon or inflatable Jelly Belly saw a few added to a light stand as decoration, stole them, and proceeded to corrupt them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqoDucCDI/AAAAAAAABQM/DiEjxZF9uJA/s1600-h/IMG_2914.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqoDucCDI/AAAAAAAABQM/DiEjxZF9uJA/s320/IMG_2914.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368309300824114" border="0" /></a>One of the guests of honour at the ball was one of the Kings of Ghana. He opened the Miss Bonbon competition, and signed autographs for 30min during the ball. I figured if I had a chance to meet a King and get his autograph, why not? One funny thing is that he knew very little German, so when I talked to him in English we actually had a little conversation. I told him I was from Canada and had a friend from Ghana, and he asked me what I was doing living in Vienna. One more random thing to add to my list of life experiences.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqozucCFI/AAAAAAAABQc/8latsJCA1fI/s1600-h/IMG_2933.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqozucCFI/AAAAAAAABQc/8latsJCA1fI/s320/IMG_2933.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368322185726034" border="0" /></a>On the way out of the ball we passed the 'throne' where the king had been a few hours before. So, we took the opportunity to make some classy photos.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqWTucB-I/AAAAAAAABPk/KjY-y_9CIFg/s1600-h/IMG_2970+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqWTucB-I/AAAAAAAABPk/KjY-y_9CIFg/s320/IMG_2970+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368004358146018" border="0" /></a>Showing the leopard some love.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqWzucB_I/AAAAAAAABPs/Q1CgXnZzaTo/s1600-h/IMG_2971.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqWzucB_I/AAAAAAAABPs/Q1CgXnZzaTo/s320/IMG_2971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162368012948080626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Faschings Feier</span></span><br />Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday, the last day of Carnival before Faschings (Lent) begins. Apparently it is a big thing in Austria, with people dressing up in costumes (even more so than Halloween) and parties (Faschings Feier). At lunch there was a party paid for by ECHEM. It was a normal work party with trays of cold cuts, cheese, vegetables, and juice. This party was missing the cases of sparkling wine which normally accompany parties like this, but instead they had boxes and boxes of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berliner_%28pastry%29">Krapfen</a>, the Austrian word for the doughnuts called "Berliners" in German German (Ich bin ein Berliner). They replace the stacks of pancakes synonymous with Shrove Tuesday in North America.<br /><br />After work a group of us went to another Faschingsfeier hosted by a coworker in Wiener Neustadt named Beate. The cool thing was that Beate and her husband run a 3 screen movie theatre, and that's where she had the party. Since it is closed on Tuesdays we had the whole place to ourselves. We ate, drank, and played <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fooseball">Foosball</a> which I only then realized is an English bastardization of the German word for soccer, Fußball. It was lots of fun.<br /><br /><br />I really need to get back into the swing of writing posts at least once a week, because these monster posts take forever to write. Nothing much planned between now and the 22nd when Ali arrives and we leave for Venice, Italy. Well, except for my birthday, but as it's a Sunday I think we'll just go out for Chinese or Japanese food and finish off the day at an Irish pub. On the subject of my birthday, I received a package from my friend Megan on Monday. There were a few Queen's newspapers which have been fun to read, a gift (which I still haven't opened - now that's self control), and a classic-Megan birthday DVD. The DVD shows a bunch of my friends from Kingston, and even a few from Brockville wishing me a happy birthday. There are also some funny special features. It made my day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R6RqWzucCAI/AAAAAAAABP0/84OjYtdlNtc/s1600-h/S7300258.JPG"><br /></a>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-82117117342329921092008-01-20T12:54:00.000+01:002008-01-20T13:33:38.467+01:00The last month and a halfI figure it's about time I update everyone, seeing as my last post was on the 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nd</span> of December...<br /><br />The time before Christmas flew by, with most evenings and weekends spent at the Christmas markets or in my German class. One weekend a group of us who work in Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Neustadt</span> met up at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Szilvia's</span> to make Christmas cookies. They were all split up equally so we could take them home and eat them throughout the next week or two. Mine were half gone before I even left the party...<br /><br />My last day of work was the 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span>, and I flew out on the 16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">th</span> after saying bye to Jasmina, Andrew, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Predrag</span> who returned home for good over the holidays. My flight from Vienna to Toronto was direct and pretty uneventful. It was the first time I flew over Europe during the day when there weren't many clouds. I saw Amsterdam from the sky, with all it's canals glimmering in the sun, and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">snowcapped</span> jagged mountains of Greenland.<br /><br />As we came to North America a huge snowstorm was in full force, but our plane managed to land pretty smoothly in Toronto; one of the only ones that day as most other flights had been canceled. With the chaos and delays resulting from the snowstorm it took me a long long time to get home from Toronto with a Via train, arriving home around 1:30am, which was 7:30am to me, completing 24.5 hours of sleepless travel.<br /><br />The next three weeks were spent with family and friends. I had a lot of fun and did far too may things to even include an abbreviated list here. One of the highlights was seeing a Cirque <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">du</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Soleil</span> show in Montreal with my family. It was absolutely amazing, I recommend that everyone sees a show at least once, it's expensive but worth it. Also, while I was home we got more than a few bad snow storms. The photo below shows the snow being removed from my street with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">dumptrucks</span> the day I arrived home from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">snowless</span> streets of Vienna.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R5M9HjugnSI/AAAAAAAABPc/5nwzpmQB6nY/s1600-h/IMG_2739.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R5M9HjugnSI/AAAAAAAABPc/5nwzpmQB6nY/s320/IMG_2739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157533198328044834" border="0" /></a>My three weeks of holiday were up before I knew it. My return flight was much longer as I had a 7 hour layover in Paris. Thankfully I found a cheap airport hotel and slept through most of it after an uncomfortable sleepless flight from Montreal.<br /><br />I started work the next day only to find that my boss <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Rakesh</span> wasn't yet back from India and no one knew when he'd be back, or how to contact him. He eventually returned a week later.<br /><br />Since being back things have been fairly uneventful, a few nights out with friends, and a going away party for Paola, one of our former coworkers who also went with us to Serbia who is moving to the Netherlands.<br /><br />Some things that I'm really looking forward to now are the <span style="font-style: italic;">Bonbon Ball</span> on the 1st, and a trip to Venice and Barcelona at the end of February when my friend Allison visits from home. The ball is a full black bow-tie, waltzing ball like you'd see in a movie, except it's run by the dessert industries in Vienna, so you get a gift bag of sweets and chocolates, and as well there is also modern music in other rooms. I thankfully didn't take my suit home at Christmas like I had planned, so all I need to buy is a decent pair of dress shoes and a black bow-tie. I'm thinking I'll buy one that you have to tie by hand instead of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">pre</span>-tied one, it might be hard to master but it'd be a cool skill to have. I'll be sure to bring my camera and take plenty of photos.<br /><br />Sorry for the almost complete lack of photos with this post but many are sure to follow in these last few months as I try to cram everything in before returning home for good.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-3288624363649565022007-12-02T19:20:00.001+01:002007-12-10T16:00:36.989+01:00Christmas in ViennaThe last few weeks have been some of the best but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">busiest</span> yet with work, my German lessons, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Christmas</span> shopping, and making sure I make the best of Andrew, Jasmina and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Predrag's</span> last few weeks in Vienna.<br /><br />When I returned from Sweden most of the <a href="http://www.christkindlmarkt.at/markt_en.html"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Christkindl</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Weihnachtsmärkte</span></a> (Christmas markets) were finally open. There are many different markets; all with a different feel, a different <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">clientele</span> and different price ranges, spread throughout the city. Some are big, colourful, and packed, like the one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">in front</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Rathaus</span>, some are moderately expensive like the one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">in front</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Karlskirche</span>, and some are obscenely expensive like the one inside the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Hofburg</span>. There you can order, among other things, yachts, marble statues, diamonds, and personal jets. Needless to say, I've stuck to the cheaper ones, not that I wouldn't love to buy everyone a 70 foot yacht for Christmas, but there are so many options (colour, wood finishes, platinum or gold fixtures... ) I just wouldn't want to mess it up.<br /><br />Almost all of the markets are outdoors and are made up of a collection of wooden huts decorated in lights and packed with stuff.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4CRXYJRI/AAAAAAAABO0/dontZ2fzVzw/s1600-R/IMG_2601.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4CRXYJRI/AAAAAAAABO0/RnWQQc6QCI0/s320/IMG_2601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442842688038162" border="0" /></a>Here you can see a small section of the market <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">in front</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Rathaus</span>. This photo was taken in November, so none of the windows (which act as the world's largest Advent calendar) are open yet. Frankly, I was a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">disappointed</span> when they did start to open. Every day is just a different back-lit abstract painting, a wash of pastel colours with no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">discernible</span> pattern or style.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4DBXYJTI/AAAAAAAABPE/bw1S5kUEO3M/s1600-R/IMG_2613.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4DBXYJTI/AAAAAAAABPE/rwNEJdexiSA/s320/IMG_2613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442855572940082" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Rathaus</span> park is also decorated with many different theme trees. The one below is filled with glowing hearts. Others are filled with large glowing candy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Santas</span>, angels, snowmen, candy canes, stars, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">nutcrackers</span>, lanterns, teddy bears, and the oddest one of all: baby seals.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4DxXYJUI/AAAAAAAABPM/XkDJhQIGOOE/s1600-R/IMG_2615.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4DxXYJUI/AAAAAAAABPM/MIBpCupWL3c/s320/IMG_2615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442868457841986" border="0" /></a>On <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">MA's</span> last weekend we went to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Schönbrunn</span> market. We were there when they lit (plugged in) the tree, so there was a lot going on, with a band playing carols and later a choir.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4ChXYJSI/AAAAAAAABO8/7tnbdnSnxto/s1600-R/IMG_2611.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4ChXYJSI/AAAAAAAABO8/FSGM6EKdQZs/s320/IMG_2611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442846983005474" border="0" /></a>The markets are filled with just as many Viennese people as tourists because they are not only a place to buy gifts, but also a place to socialize. Every 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">th</span> stall is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Glühwein</span>/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Punsch</span> stall where you're served delicious warm drinks in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">collectible</span> mugs. There are also stands selling fresh cookies, sandwiches, pastries, and my favourite, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Käseraklettebrot</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">mit</span> Speck" which is where they take wheels of 2 or 3 different cheeses, melt one edge under a heater and scrape the molten cheese onto a piece of bread covered in bits of bacon. It is artery-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">cloggingly</span> delicious.<br /><br />On our second trip to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Schönbrunn</span> market we took a tour of the palace and walked up to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Gloriette</span> where I snapped this beautiful night scene at around 4:30pm. Thankfully the markets <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">alleviate</span> most of the winter-woes brought about by what feels like continual darkness.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4ERXYJVI/AAAAAAAABPU/aGJahgZMSak/s1600-R/IMG_2628.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L4ERXYJVI/AAAAAAAABPU/_LtjRAFVbHI/s320/IMG_2628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442877047776594" border="0" /></a>Around December 1st, after MA had returned to Canada, all the Christmas lights came on, making Vienna even more amazing. Many of the different main streets have bright, creative lights. The street with the giant red spheres is to the right of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Stephansdom</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3rBXYJNI/AAAAAAAABOU/zDJ9C7mQCyQ/s1600-R/IMG_2651.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3rBXYJNI/AAAAAAAABOU/u2650Licar4/s320/IMG_2651.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442443256079570" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Kohlmarkt</span> is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">decorated</span> with a canopy of small white lights, if you enlarge the picture you can see the dome of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Hofburg</span> lit up in the background.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3sBXYJPI/AAAAAAAABOk/xN8GprH5fNs/s1600-R/IMG_2661.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3sBXYJPI/AAAAAAAABOk/KYQpUiM_S8E/s320/IMG_2661.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442460435948786" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Graben</span> takes the prize with a dozen enormous <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">chandeliers</span> made of small white lights. They are suspended by cables attached to the surrounding buildings so that at night they appear to be simply floating overhead, swaying in the wind.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3rxXYJOI/AAAAAAAABOc/66aMY4-4x5g/s1600-R/IMG_2659.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3rxXYJOI/AAAAAAAABOc/9_Gxz1VrXzk/s320/IMG_2659.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442456140981474" border="0" /></a>I passed this window display while walking home one night, thought it was pretty cool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3shXYJQI/AAAAAAAABOs/QzW7X8CuN7Q/s1600-R/IMG_2670.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R1L3shXYJQI/AAAAAAAABOs/gU2URVyVc6g/s320/IMG_2670.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139442469025883394" border="0" /></a>I have more photos from skating and other markets, but haven't had time to upload them yet. I will hopefully get to it soon, after this long of a wait you deserve more.<br /><br />I will be home in less than a week now, can't wait to see everyone, it's hard to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">believe</span> I have been gone for so long. I'm sure some things will be hard to get used to. I think the worst one will be having to account for tax when buying things. I've gotten so used to the common sense approach of tax-included pricing that it might drive me crazy.<br /><br />At work we have an 'invisible friend' (Secret Santa), mine is great, (s)he has given me lots of chocolate, and a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">pointsetta</span> and a snowman for my desk. The person I'm buying for is really difficult to buy for, I guess I shouldn't write anymore <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">in case</span> more people from work are reading this than I'm aware of, don't want to ruin the surprise.<br /><br />On Sunday Andrew, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Predrag</span>, and I went to the <a href="http://www.tmw.ac.at/default.asp?id=17&cid=17&al=Englisch"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Technisches</span> Museum</a> (Technical museum) which is like the Ontario Science Centre, except that it's designed for an older audience, so the stuff is just as cool and there are only a few kids hogging all the fun toys. The best thing is that it was just recently converted from German to German/English bilingual, so we could actually understand everything.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-22228125244466718932007-11-26T12:48:00.000+01:002007-11-29T11:57:00.123+01:00Stockholm, SverigeSo, a long , long time ago (about 11 days ago) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">José</span></span></span></span>, Daniel, Carolina, Wilson, and I traveled to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm">Stockholm</a>, Sweden for a whole 2 days. The Colombians had found really cheap round-trip tickets from Bratislava for only €18 with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ryanair</span></span></span></span>. They ended up getting the last of the heavily discounted tickets, so I sucked it up and bought the more expensive €51 one. What an outrage! €51 for a round-trip airline ticket!?! If you broke down an Air Canada ticket you probably pay more than €51 for the pillow.<br /><br />On the bus to Bratislava (~1.5 hours) we met a group of around 10 Mormon girls from Brigham Young University in Utah. They were also going to Stockholm for 2 days, and would be on both our flights. We ended up stealing their itinerary as none of us had planned anything, so we were continuously running into them.<br /><br />The flight was great, I will definitely consider using <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ryanair</span></span></span></span> in the future. When we arrived in Stockholm there was a thick layer of snow on the ground and it was pretty cold, especially for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">José</span></span></span></span> and the Colombians who just recently learned that thermometers don't stop at zero.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvEGiyt9I/AAAAAAAABM8/fx7l1Q4-huo/s1600-h/IMG_2431.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvEGiyt9I/AAAAAAAABM8/fx7l1Q4-huo/s320/IMG_2431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647903934134226" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">José</span></span></span></span> had organised for him and I to stay with a couch-surfer while the Colombians stayed with Maria, a friend of ours from Vienna who is studying in Stockholm. Our couch-surfer from here on named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Elina</span></span></span></span> was amazing. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HrsWiytmI/AAAAAAAABKE/jQmLFaglC_k/s1600-h/IMG_2589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HrsWiytmI/AAAAAAAABKE/jQmLFaglC_k/s320/IMG_2589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644197377357410" border="0" /></a>She had made us a lasagna for supper, and had sheets, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">mattresses</span> and towels for us in her res room. That night <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">José</span></span></span></span> and I tried to go out to a student pub, but it was closing when we arrived, which was later than we planned because we got terribly lost while trying to find our way in the maze of cookie-cutter residences. Apparently that night I woke <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Elina</span></span></span></span> while talking fluently and clearly in my sleep, apparently I was ordering wine at a restaurant. When she told me I was both amused and horribly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">embarrassed</span>, she said it was pretty funny. The next morning she gave us an extra key and said that she'd be staying at her boyfriends that night and that we could just drop the key in her mailbox when we left on Saturday. She was very trusting and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">accommodating</span> , even offering us more food if we wanted it.<br /><br />We eventually got up and took the subway to the city centre where we met up with Maria and the Colombians. First thing on the Mormon girl's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">itinerary</span>, a tour of city hall.<br /><br />The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_City_Hall">city hall</a> is a lot older than it looks, as it was designed to look like a medieval castle. The flag <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">infront</span></span> is the Stockholm city flag showing the head of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eric_IX_of_Sweden">St.Erik</a>, a Swedish king who was beheaded in the 12<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">th</span></span> century.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Huw2iyt7I/AAAAAAAABMs/w-wJembx_kM/s1600-h/IMG_2490.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Huw2iyt7I/AAAAAAAABMs/w-wJembx_kM/s320/IMG_2490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647573221652402" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">antechamber</span></span> before the main political hall contains caricatures of prominent Stockholm politicians.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvEmiyt-I/AAAAAAAABNE/2JJOaS9TcLU/s1600-h/IMG_2436.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvEmiyt-I/AAAAAAAABNE/2JJOaS9TcLU/s320/IMG_2436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647912524068834" border="0" /></a>The ceiling of the chamber represents an overturned Viking ship. Apparently during bad storms and in the winter, the Vikings would bring their ships onto the shore, turn them over and take shelter beneath them. It was said that under these ships this first Swedish political meetings were held.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvFmiyuAI/AAAAAAAABNU/niWpGUWafe0/s1600-h/IMG_2441.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HvFmiyuAI/AAAAAAAABNU/niWpGUWafe0/s320/IMG_2441.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647929703938050" border="0" /></a>A window in the large tower looking across the water to the old city.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuvGiyt3I/AAAAAAAABMM/ldJd9LMRwho/s1600-h/IMG_2449.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuvGiyt3I/AAAAAAAABMM/ldJd9LMRwho/s320/IMG_2449.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647543156881266" border="0" /></a>The Golden Hall is covered in glass mosaic tiles containing real gold. The mosaic designs were really different, having been designed by a young, modern artist in the 1920s. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">mosaics</span></span> depict the history of Sweden, and the giant woman in the centre represents "Princess Stockholm" a common theme in Stockholm. Many people were (and are) angry about how ugly Princess Stockholm looks, with big eyes, big feet, and big hands. Many people over the years have tried to have her replaced with something that better represents their beautiful city.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Huvmiyt5I/AAAAAAAABMc/ObNK6hcaVtg/s1600-h/IMG_2465.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Huvmiyt5I/AAAAAAAABMc/ObNK6hcaVtg/s320/IMG_2465.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647551746815890" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuwWiyt6I/AAAAAAAABMk/zHXl4M65dok/s1600-h/IMG_2481.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuwWiyt6I/AAAAAAAABMk/zHXl4M65dok/s320/IMG_2481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647564631717794" border="0" /></a>Every year the Nobel Prize Ball is held in the Golden hall, while the dinner is held in the blue hall (which is not, and never has been, blue) a room that was initially intended to be an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">outdoor</span></span> courtyard until the Italian architect realized that an outdoor courtyard isn't very useful in Stockholm for 9 months of the year, and added a roof.<br /><br />After the tour of city hall, we wandered around the old city, wandering into a church to warm up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HubGiytyI/AAAAAAAABLk/Pukw-_6_eIw/s1600-h/IMG_2512.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HubGiytyI/AAAAAAAABLk/Pukw-_6_eIw/s320/IMG_2512.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647199559497506" border="0" /></a>Only a block away from the church we found a cool restaurant built in a 700 year old underground prison. The food was actually cheap (an uncommon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">occurrence</span></span> in Sweden) and the atmosphere was cool, with barrel-vaulted brick rooms covered in everything from needle-work pictures of kittens to old guitars and bagpipes. The old tiny cells were private booths for couples.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HubmiytzI/AAAAAAAABLs/FI2zX1q3zuY/s1600-h/IMG_2515.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HubmiytzI/AAAAAAAABLs/FI2zX1q3zuY/s320/IMG_2515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647208149432114" border="0" /></a>Another block away from the restaurant we came upon a courtyard with very Swedish architecture, a big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Christmas</span></span> tree, and an old hot-water dispenser. The hot-water dispenser was a large brick oven with spouts around the edge. I guess hot water would have been pretty important during a medieval Swedish winter.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hub2iyt0I/AAAAAAAABL0/Heuwp3thdOQ/s1600-h/IMG_2519.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hub2iyt0I/AAAAAAAABL0/Heuwp3thdOQ/s320/IMG_2519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647212444399426" border="0" /></a>Some of the small streets were already decorated for Christmas, however most of the stores on these quaint little streets were way out of our price range.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HucWiyt1I/AAAAAAAABL8/w8cmBImz5Mg/s1600-h/IMG_2520.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HucWiyt1I/AAAAAAAABL8/w8cmBImz5Mg/s320/IMG_2520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647221034334034" border="0" /></a>The old city is built on a fairly hilly island, so many of the narrow cobble-stone streets wind up and down. The old city of Stockholm looks how I pictured all of Europe to be, I suppose this is primarily due to their neutrality in WWII, resulting in a completely preserved architectural history without the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">devastation</span></span> experienced by Vienna, Paris, and many other large cities.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hue2iyt2I/AAAAAAAABME/ync0btDZ0SU/s1600-h/IMG_2523.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hue2iyt2I/AAAAAAAABME/ync0btDZ0SU/s320/IMG_2523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134647263984007010" border="0" /></a>The image of St.George slaying the dragon to save Princess Sweden is a common theme in Stockholm appearing in statues like this, shrines in churches, and even the animated glockenspiel set into the tower of city hall.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuHmiyttI/AAAAAAAABK8/I7ptByzfrFo/s1600-h/IMG_2525.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuHmiyttI/AAAAAAAABK8/I7ptByzfrFo/s320/IMG_2525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134646864552048338" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">José</span></span>, Daniel, Wilson, Carolina and myself <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">infront</span></span> of the very plain looking and oddly square <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_Palace"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Stockholm</span></span> Palace</a> which overlooks the harbour. It is still the official residence of the Swedish royal family, and is one of the largest palaces in the world still in use with 609 rooms!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuIGiytuI/AAAAAAAABLE/nloVroqnC_0/s1600-h/IMG_2527.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuIGiytuI/AAAAAAAABLE/nloVroqnC_0/s320/IMG_2527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134646873141982946" border="0" /></a>From the palace we walked along the shoreline towards the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Vasa</span></span> Museum. Along the way we passed many old wooden sail boats, many of which appeared to be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">inhabited</span></span> despite the cold weather.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuImiytvI/AAAAAAAABLM/s9kpq95shIE/s1600-h/IMG_2536.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuImiytvI/AAAAAAAABLM/s9kpq95shIE/s320/IMG_2536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134646881731917554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuJGiytwI/AAAAAAAABLU/hDlyGNT9bOY/s1600-h/IMG_2538.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuJGiytwI/AAAAAAAABLU/hDlyGNT9bOY/s320/IMG_2538.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134646890321852162" border="0" /></a>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vasa_museum"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Vasa</span></span> Museum</a> was definitely the highlight of the trip. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vasa_%28ship%29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Vasa</span></span></a> is a warship built in 1628 which sank on it's maiden voyage, 15 minutes after it set sail, right in the middle of the harbour with everyone watching. At the time it was the most expensive, largest, and most modern ship ever deployed in the Baltic Sea.<br /><br />The ship sat at the bottom of the harbour until it was re-discovered and raised in the 1950s and 60s. The water-logged wood which had been preserved by the cold, brackish water was treated with polyethylene glycol for 17 years to prevent it from crumbling away when it was slowly dried (for an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">additional</span></span> 9 years).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuJmiytxI/AAAAAAAABLc/tUHZ9-kIiPI/s1600-h/IMG_2544.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HuJmiytxI/AAAAAAAABLc/tUHZ9-kIiPI/s320/IMG_2544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134646898911786770" border="0" /></a>The ship has been fully re-assembled with over 90% of the original timber and ornamentation, the few re-created prices are highly visible as they are lighter in colour. The ship was very very large and surprisingly very heavily ornamented, with the transom and bow completely decorated with sculptures of roman <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">emperors</span></span>, saints, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">mythological</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">heroes</span></span>, lions, and the king himself as a young boy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsPWiytoI/AAAAAAAABKU/wIgS-1yaeCc/s1600-h/IMG_2551.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsPWiytoI/AAAAAAAABKU/wIgS-1yaeCc/s320/IMG_2551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644798672778882" border="0" /></a>Even more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">surprising</span></span> was how heavily painted and gilt the ornamentation was. The pigments have all been found through detailed study of the wood fibres in which fragments were trapped even after 333 years under water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsPmiytpI/AAAAAAAABKc/-gq4kneyg_Q/s1600-h/IMG_2556.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsPmiytpI/AAAAAAAABKc/-gq4kneyg_Q/s320/IMG_2556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644802967746194" border="0" /></a>The most impressive part of the ship was the transom, showing the original darker carvings and the lighter pieces re-created to fill in missing or heavily damages ones.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsQmiytqI/AAAAAAAABKk/_shrGTjmi5M/s1600-h/IMG_2563.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsQmiytqI/AAAAAAAABKk/_shrGTjmi5M/s320/IMG_2563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644820147615394" border="0" /></a>From the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Vasa</span></span> museum, we met up with Maria again and walked down the main shopping street in the old city, which is where I found my Viking friend below. the street was an odd mix of everything with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">jewelry</span></span> shops and high-end dress stores directly beside 7-11s and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">emo</span> clothing stores.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsRGiytrI/AAAAAAAABKs/NBRAjKin4F8/s1600-h/IMG_2580.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsRGiytrI/AAAAAAAABKs/NBRAjKin4F8/s320/IMG_2580.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644828737550002" border="0" /></a>Back in the modern city centre we stopped for supper and watched a wood-splitting competition.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsSGiytsI/AAAAAAAABK0/KAjN5SVeFRM/s1600-h/IMG_2581.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HsSGiytsI/AAAAAAAABK0/KAjN5SVeFRM/s320/IMG_2581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644845917419202" border="0" /></a>That night we stopped in at the weekly Stockholm couch-surfing party to say bye to Elina, but left after a few minutes. From there we went back to the room, relaxed infront of the TV (which plays un-subtitled English shows), laughed at the Swedish commercials, and got ready for an International student party we were invited to.<br /><br />The next morning as José and I were leaving I took this picture of the cow pasture in the middle of the University of Stockholm campus. Apparently the cows come and go, but Elina had never seen how, she just assumed they had the ability to become invisible.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HrtWiytnI/AAAAAAAABKM/sfXdXK9zrGw/s1600-h/IMG_2592.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HrtWiytnI/AAAAAAAABKM/sfXdXK9zrGw/s320/IMG_2592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134644214557226610" border="0" /></a>We met up with the Mormon girls again at the bus station to the airport and had a fairly uneventful flight home, with the exception of the 2 hour wait for our bus back to Vienna, at the oh-so-exciting Bratislava airport.<br /><br />Stockholm was fun, and the city was beautiful, but I'm sure a visit in the summer would be better, as the cold wind and 3pm sunset really put an damper on the trip. Overall, Stockholm reminded me the most of Ontario out of any place I've been to so far. The trip to the airport could have been any section of the 401 between Cornwall and Oshawa.<br /><br />Yesterday I moved into my new (and hopefully permanent) room. It is nicer, but apparently one of the girls on the floor has lived there for ~12 years and is more than a little crazy. There was a sign on the bathroom door accusing MA of stealing a bunch of her kitchen stuff, and asking the housekeeper to look for it in his (now my) room... Oh well, it'll keep life interesting, and I only have 2.5 weeks until I'm home for Christmas and New Years!Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-2304999392185196212007-11-19T21:19:00.000+01:002007-11-21T07:13:23.309+01:00Happy Birthday Mom!<div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >Petrovaradin Fortress, Novi Sad , Serbia<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">"</span><span style="font-family:Arial;">Srecan Ti Rodjendan</span><span style="font-size:100%;">"</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwvmiyuCI/AAAAAAAABNk/teyXC8oCca4/s1600-h/IMG_1582.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwvmiyuCI/AAAAAAAABNk/teyXC8oCca4/s320/IMG_1582.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649750770071586" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Shop" Gasbar, Middle-of-Nowhere, Hungary<br /></span><span>"Boldog Születésnapot"</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hwv2iyuDI/AAAAAAAABNs/VQ2E7wYorPU/s1600-h/IMG_1625.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0Hwv2iyuDI/AAAAAAAABNs/VQ2E7wYorPU/s320/IMG_1625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649755065038898" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vimy Memorial (Canadian Soil), Vimy, France<br /></span><span>"Happy Birthday"</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwwWiyuEI/AAAAAAAABN0/kNlB6NJ7m3o/s1600-h/IMG_2105.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwwWiyuEI/AAAAAAAABN0/kNlB6NJ7m3o/s320/IMG_2105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649763654973506" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eiffel Tower, Paris, France</span><span><br />"Joyeux Anniversaire"</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwwmiyuFI/AAAAAAAABN8/6oBhG76R7y0/s1600-h/IMG_2379.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwwmiyuFI/AAAAAAAABN8/6oBhG76R7y0/s320/IMG_2379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649767949940818" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bratislava Airport, Bratislava, Slovakia<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">"</span><span style="font-size:100%;">Vsetko Najlepsie K Narodeninam</span><span style="font-size:100%;">"<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwxGiyuGI/AAAAAAAABOE/OMoskI1CFIc/s1600-h/IMG_2426.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwxGiyuGI/AAAAAAAABOE/OMoskI1CFIc/s320/IMG_2426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649776539875426" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">City Hall, Stockholm, Sweden<br /></span><span>"</span>Grattis PŒ Fšdelsedagen<span>"</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwQ2iyuBI/AAAAAAAABNc/hq1wMbgJDsQ/s1600-h/IMG_2494.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0HwQ2iyuBI/AAAAAAAABNc/hq1wMbgJDsQ/s320/IMG_2494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134649222489094162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Christmas Market at Karlsplatz, Vienna, Austria<br /></span><span>"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag"</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0NWVWiyuHI/AAAAAAAABOM/HM3aOMT4hi0/s1600-h/IMG_2598.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0NWVWiyuHI/AAAAAAAABOM/HM3aOMT4hi0/s320/IMG_2598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135042924961249394" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;">Happy Birthday Mom, wish I could be there.<br />I'll be home before you know it.</span><br /></div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-86894372057996411232007-11-11T18:52:00.000+01:002007-11-19T15:16:43.707+01:00Paris: le bon, le mauvais, et le coûteuxOn October 31st, MA and I flew to Paris to be joined by Cora on the 1st for 6 days exploring Paris and whatever else we felt like seeing. As expected, I took many many photos, which I have edited down to... about 90. I figured photos are worth 1000 words, so, instead of writing a 90,000 word tome, I'll just briefly comment on photos. The comments are going to be very brief initially, because I leave for Stockholm tomorrow and want to have this up before I go so I don't get backlogged again.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Wednesday - Halloween<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The flight was very quick, only 2 hours. After dealing with some annoying French ticket machines at Charles </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">de</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Gualle</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> that kept going out of order, and rejecting my Visa, saying, "sorry we only accept Visa" we got to Paris. The Metro map look like a cobweb, but was easy enough to decipher. Dropping everything off at the hotel we headed into the city to find some Halloween fun. Everything we passed was either closed or way too expensive, but we found a cool restaurant where we split a duck, ham, and potato salad, some wine, and had a conversation in French-German with only a bit of English thrown in for clarification. We wandered around the city looking for a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">halloween</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> party, but barely saw a costume let alone a party. We ended up in a seedy Turkish bar by our hotel where they closed the metal security curtain over the door at 11:30 forcing us to leave by the emergency exit.</span><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Thursday - Versailles Parks, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Montmartre</span></span></span></span>, Nighttime Wanderings<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Thursday was All Saints Day, a holiday in Europe where 'all' the museums are free. So, MA and I decided to go to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palace_of_Versailles">Versailles</a>. After the 30min train ride there we realized that it wasn't free and the line was really long for tickets. </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLDZayCfI/AAAAAAAABJM/iJsq2ep32iA/s1600-h/IMG_1631.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLDZayCfI/AAAAAAAABJM/iJsq2ep32iA/s320/IMG_1631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652822146877938" border="0" /></a>So, we decided to check out the gardens, which are free, then head back into the city.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLD5ayCgI/AAAAAAAABJU/SS_GbUOkQ8c/s1600-h/IMG_1637.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLD5ayCgI/AAAAAAAABJU/SS_GbUOkQ8c/s320/IMG_1637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652830736812546" border="0" /></a>The gardens are like those at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Schönbrunn</span></span></span></span>, just much, much larger.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLEJayChI/AAAAAAAABJc/tYXAs50p0jo/s1600-h/IMG_1638.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLEJayChI/AAAAAAAABJc/tYXAs50p0jo/s320/IMG_1638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652835031779858" border="0" /></a>Sadly, as of November 1st the garden is put into winter mode with the statues covered and the flowers pulled up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLEpayCiI/AAAAAAAABJk/QNjqxeItLQs/s1600-h/IMG_1639.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLEpayCiI/AAAAAAAABJk/QNjqxeItLQs/s320/IMG_1639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652843621714466" border="0" /></a>Many of the fountains were turned off, but the fountain of Apollo was still very impressive, with the exception of the seagulls resting on each head.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLFJayCjI/AAAAAAAABJs/2-13TsmpH3c/s1600-h/IMG_1647.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdLFJayCjI/AAAAAAAABJs/2-13TsmpH3c/s320/IMG_1647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652852211649074" border="0" /></a>There is a giant 'canal' system in the shape of an X with a perimeter of over 5.5km. You can rent rowboats and enjoy the view through the gardens. We just walked towards the center and grabbed some photos.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKxJayCaI/AAAAAAAABIk/n5AJM-uwDpM/s1600-h/IMG_1649.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKxJayCaI/AAAAAAAABIk/n5AJM-uwDpM/s320/IMG_1649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652508614265250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKxpayCbI/AAAAAAAABIs/B6f7lMcWK7I/s1600-h/IMG_1660.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKxpayCbI/AAAAAAAABIs/B6f7lMcWK7I/s320/IMG_1660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652517204199858" border="0" /></a>When we got back to Paris we met up with Cora at the hotel and walked to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montmartre"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Montmartre</span></span></span></span></a> and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basilica_of_the_Sacr%C3%A9_C%C5%93ur">Basilica of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Sacré</span></span></span></span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Coeur</span></span></span></span></a> where there was a view out over the city. The tour of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Sacré</span></span></span></span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Coeur</span></span></span></span> was a bit odd because there was a mass going on, but you had to walk all the way around in behind the altar and back to the front to get out.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKx5ayCcI/AAAAAAAABI0/vgAC5m1aHYc/s1600-h/IMG_1675.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKx5ayCcI/AAAAAAAABI0/vgAC5m1aHYc/s320/IMG_1675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652521499167170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">We walked down to a little restaurant with fuzzy walls. I had my first French french onion soup. Due to the fact that meals take time in France, and because the restaurant only had one waitress, we were there for over 3 hours. After supper we walked a few blocks to the </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Moulin</span></span></span></span> Rouge. For some reason I expected the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Moulin</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> Rouge to be in some kind of classy artisan neighbourhood, but, it was in a full-blown </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">redlight</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> district surrounded by seedy strip clubs.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKyJayCdI/AAAAAAAABI8/VRtC1vlmXuU/s1600-h/IMG_1689.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKyJayCdI/AAAAAAAABI8/VRtC1vlmXuU/s320/IMG_1689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652525794134482" border="0" /></a>At that point Cora left to go to bed and MA and I took the metro to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Notre_Dame_de_Paris"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Notre</span></span></span></span> Dame</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKyZayCeI/AAAAAAAABJE/iGyM77RRmsI/s1600-h/IMG_1694.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdKyZayCeI/AAAAAAAABJE/iGyM77RRmsI/s320/IMG_1694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131652530089101794" border="0" /></a>The entrance is heavily decorated with sculptures of martyrs and angels. This guy had it rough, first he was martyred, and now he's been holding his own head for over 800 years.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJyJayCVI/AAAAAAAABIA/jlNt9OW7vTk/s1600-h/IMG_1715.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJyJayCVI/AAAAAAAABIA/jlNt9OW7vTk/s320/IMG_1715.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131651426282506578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJyZayCWI/AAAAAAAABII/yngiI_OD4kE/s1600-h/IMG_1725.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJyZayCWI/AAAAAAAABII/yngiI_OD4kE/s320/IMG_1725.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131651430577473890" border="0" /></a>From <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Notre</span></span></span></span> Dame we walked to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louvre">Louvre</a>.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJy5ayCXI/AAAAAAAABIQ/b6UHNO2Tu6c/s1600-h/IMG_1760.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJy5ayCXI/AAAAAAAABIQ/b6UHNO2Tu6c/s320/IMG_1760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131651439167408498" border="0" /></a> There was hardly anyone around, and the fountains were off, forming glass-smooth reflecting pools.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJzZayCYI/AAAAAAAABIY/p1Wuea4h-js/s1600-h/IMG_1772.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdJzZayCYI/AAAAAAAABIY/p1Wuea4h-js/s320/IMG_1772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131651447757343106" border="0" /></a>Old meets new.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI0ZayCPI/AAAAAAAABHQ/cuUyR66ggEM/s1600-h/IMG_1782.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI0ZayCPI/AAAAAAAABHQ/cuUyR66ggEM/s320/IMG_1782.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131650365425584370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Friday - Versailles Tour, St.Denis, and the Louvre<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> Friday we went back to Versailles in hopes that the weekday crowd would be smaller than anything we could hope for on the weekend. Unfortunately, the lines were even longer, but we were there, and weren't leaving. The Royal apartments were over the top, much more ornate than those in Vienna, but packed tighter than the Serbian-Hungarian border.<br />The hall of mirrors was very cool, hard to believe so much history could happen in one place.<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI1ZayCQI/AAAAAAAABHY/jaz_LqyKV5U/s1600-h/IMG_1818.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI1ZayCQI/AAAAAAAABHY/jaz_LqyKV5U/s320/IMG_1818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131650382605453570" border="0" /></a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI2JayCRI/AAAAAAAABHg/1glErxJdzzY/s1600-h/IMG_1831.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI2JayCRI/AAAAAAAABHg/1glErxJdzzY/s320/IMG_1831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131650395490355474" border="0" /></a> The royal chapel<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI3JayCSI/AAAAAAAABHo/WyhM-uxgdV0/s1600-h/IMG_1846.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI3JayCSI/AAAAAAAABHo/WyhM-uxgdV0/s320/IMG_1846.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131650412670224674" border="0" /></a>The hallway to the royal opera hall which was under renovation.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI3payCTI/AAAAAAAABHw/la79Vca1dDQ/s1600-h/IMG_1861.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdI3payCTI/AAAAAAAABHw/la79Vca1dDQ/s320/IMG_1861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131650421260159282" border="0" /></a> Out in the gardens I found this fountain decorated with amphibians, reptiles, and frog-people.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIXJayCKI/AAAAAAAABGo/AsbsuaKjFH4/s1600-h/IMG_1866.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIXJayCKI/AAAAAAAABGo/AsbsuaKjFH4/s320/IMG_1866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649862914410658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"> After Versailles we went to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Denis_Basilica">Basilica of St.Denis</a>, the burial place for the ancient French royal family. Before the revolution there were over a hundred marble sculptures of the kings and queens lying over their remains. Now, there are far less, but still a lot of amazing sculptures. Also, this was one of the first churches I've seen in Europe with nice stained-glass, most other churches had it all blown out during WWII.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIX5ayCLI/AAAAAAAABGw/nJHAY_0KDJo/s1600-h/IMG_1873.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIX5ayCLI/AAAAAAAABGw/nJHAY_0KDJo/s320/IMG_1873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649875799312562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIapayCMI/AAAAAAAABG4/iAxzdb_CVq0/s1600-h/IMG_1890.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIapayCMI/AAAAAAAABG4/iAxzdb_CVq0/s320/IMG_1890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649923043952834" border="0" /></a>Many of the sculptures are covered in graffiti. It would normally be a shame, but it was almost historical in and of itself. The one below is from 1593.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIbpayCNI/AAAAAAAABHA/5u400Tl6vRg/s1600-h/IMG_1897.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIbpayCNI/AAAAAAAABHA/5u400Tl6vRg/s320/IMG_1897.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649940223822034" border="0" /></a>If anything, I think the graffiti turns what would otherwise just be another marble statue into a uniquely personal work of art.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIcJayCOI/AAAAAAAABHI/aIbWsAazGYs/s1600-h/IMG_1898.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdIcJayCOI/AAAAAAAABHI/aIbWsAazGYs/s320/IMG_1898.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649948813756642" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH7payCFI/AAAAAAAABGA/4VJg2yv29GA/s1600-h/IMG_1906.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH7payCFI/AAAAAAAABGA/4VJg2yv29GA/s320/IMG_1906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649390468008018" border="0" /></a>Tomb of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_XVI_of_France">Louis XVI</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_Antoinette">Marie Antoinette</a> (heads and all, I assume)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH8ZayCGI/AAAAAAAABGI/gtgljNdbZvs/s1600-h/IMG_1911.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH8ZayCGI/AAAAAAAABGI/gtgljNdbZvs/s320/IMG_1911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649403352909922" border="0" /></a>That night we went to the Louvre, as it is free for students on Fridays evenings. We got there a bit early, so we walked towards the Champs-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Élysées</span></span></span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH85ayCHI/AAAAAAAABGQ/DYc24yCKbq4/s1600-h/IMG_1924.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH85ayCHI/AAAAAAAABGQ/DYc24yCKbq4/s320/IMG_1924.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649411942844530" border="0" /></a>When we were let in, there were hoards of people heading in one direction, towards the Mona Lisa. On the way we happened upon the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winged_Victory_of_Samothrace">Winged Victory of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Samothrace</span></span></a>, which I found to be most beautiful thing in the Louvre, by far. It's hard to believe that it was carved over 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">millenia</span></span> ago, yet still manages to convey such a sense of motion and optimism, even missing it's head and arms.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH9ZayCII/AAAAAAAABGY/vwIPl7WUaJY/s1600-h/IMG_1948.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH9ZayCII/AAAAAAAABGY/vwIPl7WUaJY/s320/IMG_1948.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649420532779138" border="0" /></a>I thought this painting, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberty_Leading_the_People">Liberty Leading the People</a>, was very nice and powerful, little did I know it was one of the museum's most famous pieces..<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH_5ayCJI/AAAAAAAABGg/gzdYbXpbpYQ/s1600-h/IMG_1957.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdH_5ayCJI/AAAAAAAABGg/gzdYbXpbpYQ/s320/IMG_1957.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649463482452114" border="0" /></a>The small, and rather uninteresting, Mona Lisa. The crowds around the painting were ridiculous and it was hard to even see the painting, let alone the "no photography" signs through all the camera flashes.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHn5ayCAI/AAAAAAAABFY/8i9th9wF10E/s1600-h/IMG_1959.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHn5ayCAI/AAAAAAAABFY/8i9th9wF10E/s320/IMG_1959.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649051165591554" border="0" /></a>Art with character<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHoZayCBI/AAAAAAAABFg/iCMssqomXPA/s1600-h/IMG_1978.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHoZayCBI/AAAAAAAABFg/iCMssqomXPA/s320/IMG_1978.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649059755526162" border="0" /></a>The rather boring and uninspired <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Venus_de_Milo">Venus de Milo</a>, notable only for the fact that it is so old. Apparently it would also have been originally fully painted and covered in jewelry.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHopayCCI/AAAAAAAABFo/TsrZBX1ySoo/s1600-h/IMG_1990.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHopayCCI/AAAAAAAABFo/TsrZBX1ySoo/s320/IMG_1990.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649064050493474" border="0" /></a>'The Captive' by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michalangelo">Michaelangelo</a>.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHpZayCDI/AAAAAAAABFw/QR5j4-zkvtk/s1600-h/IMG_2006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHpZayCDI/AAAAAAAABFw/QR5j4-zkvtk/s320/IMG_2006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131649076935395378" border="0" /></a>This sculpture was so simple it was amazing. Her face is merely implied by the folds of the fabric, yet it is still so easy to see. Something like this deserves far more recognition than something like the Venus de Milo.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHC5ayB7I/AAAAAAAABEw/Y5sHDVDctnA/s1600-h/IMG_2015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHC5ayB7I/AAAAAAAABEw/Y5sHDVDctnA/s320/IMG_2015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648415510431666" border="0" /></a>There were many giant paintings in the different galleries.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHDpayB8I/AAAAAAAABE4/PPTc30lPTDo/s1600-h/IMG_2032.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHDpayB8I/AAAAAAAABE4/PPTc30lPTDo/s320/IMG_2032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648428395333570" border="0" /></a>I thought this painting was pretty cool, something different in a sea of portraits.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHEJayB9I/AAAAAAAABFA/mXogTJ_2ERk/s1600-h/IMG_2035.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHEJayB9I/AAAAAAAABFA/mXogTJ_2ERk/s320/IMG_2035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648436985268178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Saturday - Arras, Vimy, and Nighttime wanderings take 2<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> On Saturday MA and I thought we should be good Canadians and visit the Canadian war memorial in Vimy. We left on a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tgv">TGV high-speed train</a> from Gare du Nord.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHEpayB-I/AAAAAAAABFI/BJxNGWmsDT8/s1600-h/IMG_2066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHEpayB-I/AAAAAAAABFI/BJxNGWmsDT8/s320/IMG_2066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648445575202786" border="0" /></a>There unfortunately wasn't a speedometer in our car, but we made the 180km trip to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arras">Arras</a> in one hour, and that includes the fifteen minutes or more it took us to get out of Paris and reach full speed and the deceleration into Arras. We were going insanely fast, MA kept saying that it felt like we were in a plane about to take off.<br /><br />We had time to kill in Arras before the short train to Vimy. So, we wandered into the city centre, following the sound of a band that faded in and out somewhat randomly. We squeezed through the markets setup in the narrow streets and came upon a large square where the music was the loudest. Finally we found the band, at the top of the city hall tower under the clock.<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHE5ayB_I/AAAAAAAABFQ/KviaJOgOOyI/s1600-h/IMG_2068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdHE5ayB_I/AAAAAAAABFQ/KviaJOgOOyI/s320/IMG_2068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648449870170098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGspayB2I/AAAAAAAABEI/EPbn1TdQqTk/s1600-h/IMG_2071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGspayB2I/AAAAAAAABEI/EPbn1TdQqTk/s320/IMG_2071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648033258342242" border="0" /></a>After taking the flashy TGV train from Paris, the rusty graffiti-covered antique sitting on grassed-over tracks seemed a bit out of place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGtJayB3I/AAAAAAAABEQ/44XxpqCLFn8/s1600-h/IMG_2074.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGtJayB3I/AAAAAAAABEQ/44XxpqCLFn8/s320/IMG_2074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648041848276850" border="0" /></a>When we arrived in Vimy we were a little weary about even getting off the train. The station was all boarded up and looked like it had been abandoned for decades. There weren't any garbage cans let alone tourist information booths to tell us how to get to the memorial. So, we started walking. About 5 minutes down the street an old man pulled over and asked if we were going to the Canadian memorial. He proudly pointed out the Canadian and Quebéc flag stickers on his windshield and offered us, and another Canadian student named Calvin who happened to be walking down the road behind us, a ride to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canadian_National_Vimy_Memorial">memorial</a> which was over 5km away.<br /><br />We arrived at the information desk and the man said he would return at 5 to take us back. The memorial took 11 years to complete, was finished in 1936, and sits of land given to Canada by France. Being Canadian soil, all the workers were Canadian university students, something which was a nice surprise to find in the middle-of-nowhere northern France.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGt5ayB4I/AAAAAAAABEY/9fzvDFnvUj4/s1600-h/IMG_2082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGt5ayB4I/AAAAAAAABEY/9fzvDFnvUj4/s320/IMG_2082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648054733178754" border="0" /></a>The whole memorial had been covered by scaffolding for a major renovation for the past three years, only being re-dedicated in April. So, all the stone was glowing white as it would have 70 years ago.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGuJayB5I/AAAAAAAABEg/NaDrsqE2-Wo/s1600-h/IMG_2084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGuJayB5I/AAAAAAAABEg/NaDrsqE2-Wo/s320/IMG_2084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648059028146066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGu5ayB6I/AAAAAAAABEo/MaeKqAPJG3c/s1600-h/IMG_2087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGu5ayB6I/AAAAAAAABEo/MaeKqAPJG3c/s320/IMG_2087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131648071913047970" border="0" /></a>They fly both the modern Canadian flag (who's maple-leaf design has a lot to do with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Vimy_Ridge">battle of Vimy ridge</a>) and the Red Ensign which was the Canadian flag during WWI.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGZZayBxI/AAAAAAAABDg/gowTRkezpJc/s1600-h/IMG_2103.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGZZayBxI/AAAAAAAABDg/gowTRkezpJc/s320/IMG_2103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647702545860370" border="0" /></a>The grounds around the monument were left untouched, and show how the battlefield was filled with winding trenches and large craters. However, the thick layer of green grass and stands of cedars make the site a picturesque calming landscape which would have been unrecognisable to the soldiers who actually fought in those trenches.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGaZayByI/AAAAAAAABDo/9wzk4HsEN68/s1600-h/IMG_2113.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGaZayByI/AAAAAAAABDo/9wzk4HsEN68/s320/IMG_2113.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647719725729570" border="0" /></a>There are two large cemeteries field with Commonwealth soldiers, many of whom were unidentified or as they say "Known unto God".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGapayBzI/AAAAAAAABDw/h8DbOIyf0TQ/s1600-h/IMG_2119.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGapayBzI/AAAAAAAABDw/h8DbOIyf0TQ/s320/IMG_2119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647724020696882" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGbZayB0I/AAAAAAAABD4/GzYkex_r3UA/s1600-h/IMG_2121.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGbZayB0I/AAAAAAAABD4/GzYkex_r3UA/s320/IMG_2121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647736905598786" border="0" /></a>There were also tours of the tunnels which connected the front lines to different sites further back from the Germans, allowing troops and messengers to move around unseen.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGDZayBsI/AAAAAAAABC4/KRL29faiH7M/s1600-h/IMG_2138.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGDZayBsI/AAAAAAAABC4/KRL29faiH7M/s320/IMG_2138.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647324588738242" border="0" /></a>On the walls of one tunnel there is a maple leaf carved into the wall, which was becoming the recognised symbol of Canada, placed on the Canadian uniforms to distinguish them from other Commonwealth soldiers.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGb5ayB1I/AAAAAAAABEA/gbizlelb2IM/s1600-h/IMG_2133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGb5ayB1I/AAAAAAAABEA/gbizlelb2IM/s320/IMG_2133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647745495533394" border="0" /></a>A view across no-man's-land to the German trenches<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGEJayBtI/AAAAAAAABDA/SNV9p6Y6JqU/s1600-h/IMG_2140.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGEJayBtI/AAAAAAAABDA/SNV9p6Y6JqU/s320/IMG_2140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647337473640146" border="0" /></a>By 3 we had seen everything there was to see, but still had two hours until our ride. So, we wandered back to the memorial and talked with the tour guides. We found out the man who drove us in is a retired resident of Vimy who passes by after every train (3-4 times a day) to shuttle tourists and chat with the staff.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGEZayBuI/AAAAAAAABDI/3pAwZUTNoy8/s1600-h/IMG_2145.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGEZayBuI/AAAAAAAABDI/3pAwZUTNoy8/s320/IMG_2145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647341768607458" border="0" /></a>When he finally returned,we were all ready to leave. He dropped us off downtown so we could take the bus back to Arras, and handed us little pieces of paper with his name and address. I'll have to remember to send him a postcard from home at Christmas.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0AgvWiytkI/AAAAAAAABJ0/tGhFRsE7aoI/s1600-h/IMG_2149.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0AgvWiytkI/AAAAAAAABJ0/tGhFRsE7aoI/s320/IMG_2149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134139573079815746" border="0" /></a>MA and Calvin (random guy we met from Medicine Hat, Alberta) waiting for the bus and eating our poor-man's supper of baguette, cheese, and Sunny D.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGF5ayBwI/AAAAAAAABDY/p7ctutJmsrE/s1600-h/IMG_2150.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdGF5ayBwI/AAAAAAAABDY/p7ctutJmsrE/s320/IMG_2150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131647367538411266" border="0" /></a>After a lot of frustration Calvin boarded a train to the only city in the area with a student hostel, and MA and I got tickets for the TGV back to Paris. Calvin was on a two month tour of Europe which was just coming to a close, his next destination was the city where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.<br /><br />When we arrived in Paris we decided to tour some more because if we went back to the hotel we would just crash and waste the evening.<br /><br />We walked to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eiffel_tower">Eiffel tower</a> in time to catch on of the light shows which occur every hour on the hour once it's dark. The tower which normally glows gold is covered in bright blue-white strobe lights which flash randomly making the tower sparkle.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFlJayBnI/AAAAAAAABCQ/VlvWcOEfq_s/s1600-h/IMG_2159.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFlJayBnI/AAAAAAAABCQ/VlvWcOEfq_s/s320/IMG_2159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646804897695346" border="0" /></a>The tower was so much larger than I had ever imagined, and is an amazing example of Victorian-age ironwork where artistic design merges with the utility of geometric mass-produced ironwork to create beautifully simple structures.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFlpayBoI/AAAAAAAABCY/q0lVBXmtA-w/s1600-h/IMG_2190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFlpayBoI/AAAAAAAABCY/q0lVBXmtA-w/s320/IMG_2190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646813487629954" border="0" /></a>From there we walked to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arc_de_triomphe">Arc de Triomphe</a> which was closed, but we still got to see the outside which was also far far larger than I ever would have expected.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFl5ayBpI/AAAAAAAABCg/VBVM7ziuhK4/s1600-h/IMG_2192.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFl5ayBpI/AAAAAAAABCg/VBVM7ziuhK4/s320/IMG_2192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646817782597266" border="0" /></a>From the Arc we went back to the hotel, buying a bottle of wine on the way. At the hotel we threw on the TV only to find the Canadian episode of the French version of American Idol, with guest stars Avril Lavigne and Celine Dion. Needless to say we turned very quickly. Eventually we found the movie "Quest for Fire" which was perfect because although it was "in French" it is about cavemen and therefore has no speaking.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Sunday - </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Père-Lachaise Cemetery</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >, les Invalides, Pantheon, Arc de Triomphe</span><br />Sunday morning MA and I went to Père-Lachaise Cemetery. It was very crowded, with graves and mausoleums built side-by-side with no room in between. The streets wound through the site which is built upon a large hilly piece of land in the eastern end of Paris.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0A1JmiytlI/AAAAAAAABJ8/z5pGyMT285U/s1600-h/IMG_2218.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/R0A1JmiytlI/AAAAAAAABJ8/z5pGyMT285U/s320/IMG_2218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134162014283937362" border="0" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chopin">Chopin</a>'s grave, completely covered in fresh flowers<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFnJayBqI/AAAAAAAABCo/f9mPJTKzt-A/s1600-h/IMG_2215.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFnJayBqI/AAAAAAAABCo/f9mPJTKzt-A/s320/IMG_2215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646839257433762" border="0" /></a>Some of the oldest parts of the cemetery are crumbling, with cracked-open graves and mausoleums.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFn5ayBrI/AAAAAAAABCw/yB4LTcmjYBM/s1600-h/IMG_2217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFn5ayBrI/AAAAAAAABCw/yB4LTcmjYBM/s320/IMG_2217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646852142335666" border="0" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_morrison">Jim Morrison</a>'s grave with it's third tombstone. The first two were a metal shield and then a bust, both of which were stolen. As the grave is in behind others, there has been heavy vandalism of the surrounding sites and at one point he was going to be evicted.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdE_5ayBkI/AAAAAAAABB4/DsnFvDTdjR4/s1600-h/IMG_2222.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdE_5ayBkI/AAAAAAAABB4/DsnFvDTdjR4/s320/IMG_2222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646164947568194" border="0" /></a><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_wilde">Oscar Wilde</a>'s grave, covered in years of lipstick<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFA5ayBlI/AAAAAAAABCA/6k5x4_4xaBw/s1600-h/IMG_2228.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFA5ayBlI/AAAAAAAABCA/6k5x4_4xaBw/s320/IMG_2228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646182127437394" border="0" /></a>The Paris subway system is called the Métro. This stop, like many in the center of the city has an old sign from the turn of the century.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFBpayBmI/AAAAAAAABCI/hiVLqbe5hR0/s1600-h/IMG_2238.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdFBpayBmI/AAAAAAAABCI/hiVLqbe5hR0/s320/IMG_2238.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131646195012339298" border="0" /></a>We stopped for some Quiche by the Opera<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palais_Garnier"></a>, but couldn't tour inside because there was a show going on. I returned on Monday, so scroll down for some pictures.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdET5ayBdI/AAAAAAAABBA/qUJ2tvxuutg/s1600-h/IMG_2241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdET5ayBdI/AAAAAAAABBA/qUJ2tvxuutg/s320/IMG_2241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131645409033323986" border="0" /></a>Passing through the Tuileries gardens in front of the Louvre on our way to les Invalides.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEU5ayBeI/AAAAAAAABBI/yjH0HXgqhiU/s1600-h/IMG_2250.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEU5ayBeI/AAAAAAAABBI/yjH0HXgqhiU/s320/IMG_2250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131645426213193186" border="0" /></a>Boats along the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seine">Seine</a> with Notre Dame in the distance.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEV5ayBfI/AAAAAAAABBQ/hulBjy4yoN4/s1600-h/IMG_2254.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEV5ayBfI/AAAAAAAABBQ/hulBjy4yoN4/s320/IMG_2254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131645443393062386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEXJayBgI/AAAAAAAABBY/9Kd7etWgltc/s1600-h/IMG_2263.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEXJayBgI/AAAAAAAABBY/9Kd7etWgltc/s320/IMG_2263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131645464867898882" border="0" /></a> We walked all the way to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Invalides">les Invalides</a>, built by Napoleon as a veteran's hospital and now also the location of his tomb which is in the large church in the center. For the first time since arriving we also saw some blue sky! The roof of the church is covered in real gold. You had to pay admission to see Napoleon's tomb so we just peeked in and decided to leave it for the next time we're in Paris as money was getting pretty tight.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEX5ayBhI/AAAAAAAABBg/8Oc0pFSPM3E/s1600-h/IMG_2271.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdEX5ayBhI/AAAAAAAABBg/8Oc0pFSPM3E/s320/IMG_2271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131645477752800786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDy5ayBYI/AAAAAAAABAY/fWqk0oSbS9U/s1600-h/IMG_2273.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDy5ayBYI/AAAAAAAABAY/fWqk0oSbS9U/s320/IMG_2273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644842097640834" border="0" /></a>Blue sky!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDzJayBZI/AAAAAAAABAg/8hkHlemUugw/s1600-h/IMG_2278.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDzJayBZI/AAAAAAAABAg/8hkHlemUugw/s320/IMG_2278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644846392608146" border="0" /></a>Back across the Seine<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDzpayBaI/AAAAAAAABAo/dAuBqFgBfMc/s1600-h/IMG_2284.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDzpayBaI/AAAAAAAABAo/dAuBqFgBfMc/s320/IMG_2284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644854982542754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDz5ayBbI/AAAAAAAABAw/WVU28oRerW4/s1600-h/IMG_2290.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDz5ayBbI/AAAAAAAABAw/WVU28oRerW4/s320/IMG_2290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644859277510066" border="0" /></a>A few minutes south of the island on which Notre Dame stands is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panth%C3%A9on%2C_Paris">Panthéon</a>. I personally had no idea this building even existed, but it was really cool. Originally built as a church, it was later converted to a building to glorify (and hold the remains of) important French citizens.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdD0ZayBcI/AAAAAAAABA4/z_lJezhDOgQ/s1600-h/IMG_2291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdD0ZayBcI/AAAAAAAABA4/z_lJezhDOgQ/s320/IMG_2291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644867867444674" border="0" /></a>From the central dome hangs (a replica of) the original Foucalt pendulum. In the crypts beneath the main room the remains of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Voltaire">Voltaire</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_Sklodowska-Curie">the Curies</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Braille">Braille</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victor_Hugo">Hugo</a> and many more are interred.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDVZayBUI/AAAAAAAAA_4/cZ-FxAJKqKk/s1600-h/IMG_2313.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDVZayBUI/AAAAAAAAA_4/cZ-FxAJKqKk/s320/IMG_2313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644335291499842" border="0" /></a>From the Panthéon we walked to a small restaurant where I had my most Parisian meal: red wine, bread, French onion soup, duck, and <span style="font-size:100%;">Crème brûlée</span>. We then went to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arc_de_triomphe">Arc de Triomphe</a> in time to walk to the top.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDVpayBVI/AAAAAAAABAA/sDAiYEOT7QU/s1600-h/IMG_2340.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDVpayBVI/AAAAAAAABAA/sDAiYEOT7QU/s320/IMG_2340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644339586467154" border="0" /></a>The interior rooms were being renovated, so entrance was free. On the walls in the main room right beneath the observation deck at the very top, the arched walls were decorated with metal palm fronds which are tributes to the unknown soldier buried under the main arch.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDWZayBWI/AAAAAAAABAI/Dt7I6bX9fNQ/s1600-h/IMG_2342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDWZayBWI/AAAAAAAABAI/Dt7I6bX9fNQ/s320/IMG_2342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644352471369058" border="0" /></a>From the top of the Arc you can see the entire city.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDWpayBXI/AAAAAAAABAQ/NhLnMLqN2zc/s1600-h/IMG_2346.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdDWpayBXI/AAAAAAAABAQ/NhLnMLqN2zc/s320/IMG_2346.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131644356766336370" border="0" /></a>Of the 12 boulevards which radiate out from the traffic circle around the Arc, the largest by far is the Champs-Élysées which ends at the large Ferris wheel in front of the Tuileries gardens (and the Lovre).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC5JayBOI/AAAAAAAAA_I/zg3N10R0674/s1600-h/IMG_2354.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC5JayBOI/AAAAAAAAA_I/zg3N10R0674/s320/IMG_2354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643849960195298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Monday - Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Opera</span></span><br />Monday morning the three of us stowed our luggage at Gare du Nord and headed for the Eiffel tower. We chose the cheaper, and more fun option of walking up, stopping at the first and second floors.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC55ayBPI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/l9OLj2fEZyk/s1600-h/IMG_2363.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC55ayBPI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/l9OLj2fEZyk/s320/IMG_2363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643862845097202" border="0" /></a>The very top is only accessible by an elevator with long lines and an additional fee. So, we decided to leave if for another time, as we wanted to get to Notre Dame before we had to leave for the airport.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC7ZayBRI/AAAAAAAAA_g/RI33BQe5pJo/s1600-h/IMG_2367.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC7ZayBRI/AAAAAAAAA_g/RI33BQe5pJo/s320/IMG_2367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643888614901010" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC8JayBSI/AAAAAAAAA_o/99JQ7SCqI5o/s1600-h/IMG_2372.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdC8JayBSI/AAAAAAAAA_o/99JQ7SCqI5o/s320/IMG_2372.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643901499802914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCfpayBHI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/MrvIQsu7DVE/s1600-h/IMG_2382.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCfpayBHI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/MrvIQsu7DVE/s320/IMG_2382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643411873530994" border="0" /></a>Notre Dame is very large and decorated on the inside, but resembles many of the other cathedrals I've been to, all of which are starting to blur together. One cool thing about Notre Dame is that many of the stone alcoves are painted with designs in bright colours.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCgZayBII/AAAAAAAAA-g/X8ICvZcS94Y/s1600-h/IMG_2383.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCgZayBII/AAAAAAAAA-g/X8ICvZcS94Y/s320/IMG_2383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643424758432898" border="0" /></a>After Notre Dame we all split up, with MA going to another museum, Cora going in search of a market, and I decided to tour the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palais_Garnier">Opera</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdChpayBJI/AAAAAAAAA-o/XQY4PzIvMqs/s1600-h/IMG_2393.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdChpayBJI/AAAAAAAAA-o/XQY4PzIvMqs/s320/IMG_2393.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643446233269394" border="0" /></a>The guided tours were expensive, so I chose the cheaper self-guided one. Most operas are very ornate, but this one was incredible. Every surface was covered in marble, gold, bronze, or velvet, with not one thing overlooked (with the exception of the bathrooms).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCiJayBKI/AAAAAAAAA-w/I4sGlH9gbGE/s1600-h/IMG_2397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCiJayBKI/AAAAAAAAA-w/I4sGlH9gbGE/s320/IMG_2397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643454823204002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCjJayBMI/AAAAAAAAA-8/oO6iM5VClmc/s1600-h/IMG_2402.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCjJayBMI/AAAAAAAAA-8/oO6iM5VClmc/s320/IMG_2402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131643472003073218" border="0" /></a>The chandelier actually resembles the prop from the Phantom of the Opera, which is set in the Paris Opera. As in the musical, there is also a large lake in the deep basements due to the marshy soil it is built on. Any attempts to water proof the basements would lead pressure buildup behind the walls, threatening the founation.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdB-ZayBEI/AAAAAAAAA-A/fjJgG9_3Wew/s1600-h/IMG_2404.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdB-ZayBEI/AAAAAAAAA-A/fjJgG9_3Wew/s320/IMG_2404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131642840642880578" border="0" /></a>One of the set mock-ups from the 20s or 30s in the Opera Museum.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdB_JayBFI/AAAAAAAAA-I/ZpWlmDfJ7xk/s1600-h/IMG_2417.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdB_JayBFI/AAAAAAAAA-I/ZpWlmDfJ7xk/s320/IMG_2417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131642853527782482" border="0" /></a>We met back at Gare du Nord, and had a nice, uneventful flight home.<br /><br />Watch your fingers as this post comes to a close.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCB5ayBGI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/ZwYTPWBJyOc/s1600-h/IMG_2425.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RzdCB5ayBGI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/ZwYTPWBJyOc/s320/IMG_2425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131642900772422754" border="0" /></a><br />Apparently I need to visit France more often, I was gone for 3 days and got 5 comments on the post! Nice to know that people are still reading.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-79505016996224319832007-10-29T20:36:00.000+01:002007-11-11T17:08:32.011+01:00Novi Sad, Serbia - My Third and Final Former-Yugoslav AdventureThis past week has been crazy, so I just finally got time to sit down and write this article. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Novi</span> Sad was a really great weekend, but this post is going to be quick so I can start my Paris post, sorry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Laslo</span>.<br /><br />Two weekends ago 6 of us went to visit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Szilvia</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Laslo's</span> hometown of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novi_Sad"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Novi</span> Sad</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serbia">Serbia</a> for the long weekend. Cora, Daniel, Paola (from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ECHEM</span>, originally from Spain), and I went in Paola's car. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Szilvia</span> drove with Roland (Paola's Austrian friend). We drove through Hungary and into Serbia, arriving late on Thursday. We stayed in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Szilvia</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Laslo's</span> uncle's old apartment which was packed with food, including beer in the fridge, hot supper in the oven, and the inescapable schnapps in the cupboard. Their uncle had cooked us a huge quiche-like dinner filled with eggs and cheese with a flaky crust on top, it was really good.<br /><br />Friday we went to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrovaradin_fortress"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Petrovaradin</span> Fortress</a> across the Danube from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Novi</span> Sad. There has been a fortified settlement at that location since before 3000BC, but the majority of the fortress that we saw was built by Austria-Hungary about 300 years ago to protect <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Novi</span> Sad from the Turks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY9zBh1gpI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/vLFP8kJA7_Q/s1600-h/IMG_1573.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY9zBh1gpI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/vLFP8kJA7_Q/s320/IMG_1573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126853172600865426" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY92Rh1gqI/AAAAAAAAA9g/3zy0-x4JSa0/s1600-h/IMG_1577.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY92Rh1gqI/AAAAAAAAA9g/3zy0-x4JSa0/s320/IMG_1577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126853228435440290" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">clocktower</span> at the fortress, the symbol of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Novi</span> Sad, was under renovation, hence the missing arms. The long arm on the clock is actually the hour hand, as it is the only one visible from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Novi</span> Sad, and apparently the locals weren't too concerned with the exact time, so that's all they needed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY93Rh1grI/AAAAAAAAA9o/bbmmmbFeTgY/s1600-h/IMG_1579.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY93Rh1grI/AAAAAAAAA9o/bbmmmbFeTgY/s320/IMG_1579.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126853245615309490" border="0" /></a>From the fortress you can see the three bridges across the Danube which have been rebuilt after being <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1999_NATO_bombing_in_Novi_Sad">bombed by NATO in 1999</a>, along with the oil refinery, electrical, communications, and drinking water infrastructures, as well as some residential areas...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY95Bh1gsI/AAAAAAAAA9w/6vHKvCRNqdE/s1600-h/IMG_1583.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY95Bh1gsI/AAAAAAAAA9w/6vHKvCRNqdE/s320/IMG_1583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126853275680080578" border="0" /></a>The fortress has now been converted into a museum, a 5 star hotel, a 1000 star hostel ("because it has pieces of the roof missing, so you see the stars through the holes in the ceiling" - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Laslo</span>), and an artisan community. The artist's houses have galleries on the ground floor and apartments on the upper floors. The fact that the fortress is always filled with artists has resulted in a lot of cool outdoor artwork.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY95xh1gtI/AAAAAAAAA94/4u3CLgPrUDg/s1600-h/IMG_1591.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY95xh1gtI/AAAAAAAAA94/4u3CLgPrUDg/s320/IMG_1591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126853288564982482" border="0" /></a>A bit cold and damp from the fortress we went to meet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Szilvia</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Laslo's</span> parents. Unfortunately they speak German, Hungarian, Serbian, Croatian, and Macedonian, but no English. Their father could speak some "Tarzan English" as they call it, and my poor German and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Laslo</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Szilvia's</span> translations got me through the rest. They had prepared a delicious Hungarian <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">paprikash</span>, which we ate with noodles, wine, and of course, schnapps. After dinner we watched some Spanish '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Telenovela</span>' soap operas with Cyrillic subtitles with their mom, random but a lot of fun. Most Serbian media is left in the original language with Cyrillic Serbian subtitles, to which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Szilvia</span> credits her knowledge of English.<br />That night we went to the city centre, which was really nice, like a small Vienna. In the central plaza there was an exhibit of painted cows where we found some now worthless old Yugoslav money on the street. I found a 50,000,000,000 Florin bill (uncontrolled inflation) and Cora found a 100,000,000 Florin bill.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4YRh1gkI/AAAAAAAAA8w/nKNWMzWRfVk/s1600-h/IMG_1593.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4YRh1gkI/AAAAAAAAA8w/nKNWMzWRfVk/s320/IMG_1593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126847215481225794" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4aBh1glI/AAAAAAAAA84/leKEn3FdBZ8/s1600-h/IMG_1598.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4aBh1glI/AAAAAAAAA84/leKEn3FdBZ8/s320/IMG_1598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126847245545996882" border="0" /></a>Before going out we stopped at a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Palačinka</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Crêpe</span>, č=ch) restaurant. We got delicious dessert versions, mine was a banana split, filled with ice creme and topped with bananas and (sweetened!) whipped creme. They were delicious, huge, and cheap. Even cheaper considering that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Laslo</span> paid, thanks again! In case you don't recognise them yet (which you should by now) the photo below is of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Laslo</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Szilvia</span>.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4bxh1gmI/AAAAAAAAA9A/S7EWHyX8C-0/s1600-h/IMG_1601.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4bxh1gmI/AAAAAAAAA9A/S7EWHyX8C-0/s320/IMG_1601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126847275610767970" border="0" /></a>That night we went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Szilvia's</span> favourite bar, a tiny hole-in-the-wall club with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">faux</span>-fur walls and a disco ball. The music was great, so Paola, Daniel, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Szilvia</span>, and I stayed until 3am or so, and were the last ones to leave. I taught them my full range of expert dance moves, including: the fisherman, the sprinkler, the grocery cart, the lawnmower, the standard car, and many more. I'm sure I tarnished the name of Canadian dancing in Serbia for many generations to come.<br /><br /></div>The view from the apartment:<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4dRh1gnI/AAAAAAAAA9I/DC-k3UdXwRA/s1600-h/IMG_1602.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4dRh1gnI/AAAAAAAAA9I/DC-k3UdXwRA/s320/IMG_1602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126847301380571762" border="0" /></a>The five of us crammed into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Szilvia's</span> little car to tour a bit before going to their Grandma's for a BBQ dinner.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4fRh1goI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/7_xwtuZbRnc/s1600-h/IMG_1603.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY4fRh1goI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/7_xwtuZbRnc/s320/IMG_1603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126847335740310146" border="0" /></a>The control for the windshield wipers was broken so Cora had to run out and squeegee the windows as fast as she could at red lights and stop signs.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3jxh1gfI/AAAAAAAAA8I/35IWmShmVZ0/s1600-h/IMG_1604.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3jxh1gfI/AAAAAAAAA8I/35IWmShmVZ0/s320/IMG_1604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126846313538093554" border="0" /></a>Daniel, Paola, and I crammed in the back seat.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3lhh1ggI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/eWVegC8p7oQ/s1600-h/IMG_1606.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3lhh1ggI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/eWVegC8p7oQ/s320/IMG_1606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126846343602864642" border="0" /></a>Their Grandma's house had a big kitchen building in the backyard, perfect for huge family <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">barbeques</span>. The photo below is of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Szilvia</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Laslo</span> with their dad, grandma, and two cousins who speak better English than I do. Their dad cooked a whole pot of burgers, sausages, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">porkchops</span> and bacon, with skewers of vegetables for Roland (who's a vegetarian).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3oRh1giI/AAAAAAAAA8g/oxXTYsUfCCo/s1600-h/IMG_1614.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3oRh1giI/AAAAAAAAA8g/oxXTYsUfCCo/s320/IMG_1614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126846390847504930" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Szilvia</span> was singing along to the radio when her grandmother said, in sweet-old-lady Hungarian, "why, you still sing so badly..." and when Cora joined in (and neighbourhood dogs started to howl) she said "now the other one has started, God save us!". After dinner we decided to go skating with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Laslo</span>, and I shattered the stereotype that all Canadians are good at hockey.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3shh1gjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/hyqTLQF9Uaw/s1600-h/IMG_1616.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RyY3shh1gjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/hyqTLQF9Uaw/s320/IMG_1616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126846463861948978" border="0" /></a>The next morning we had a big breakfast, and were joined by their cousin, a friend, and the DJ from the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">faux</span>-fur-covered bar who had burned us all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">CDs</span>.<br />We left at 1:00 to beat the rush at the border as everyone returned from the long weekend. Reaching the Serbian border we stopped behind a sea of cars. Moving at a rate of 1 car every 5 min we crawled to the border. An hour later when we reached the border we saw why things were moving so slowly, from the other side of the border in no-mans-land there were cars as far as you could see heading towards Hungary. Stuck in the line with no escape we began the crawl forward as the sun began to set. After 2 hours and a minor altercation where we saw what happens when you mix a girl with a French temper and an American mouth with a frustrated Serbian man, we arrived at the border. In order to speed up the crossing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Szilvia</span>, Daniel, and I walked through the non-EU border while the cars went through the EU border. They were checking the cars very thoroughly, but they somehow missed the 2L of home-made schnapps in Roland's back seat (which he received from his long-lost relatives who he visited that weekend after tracking them down through birth certificates to a small city near Novi Sad).<br /><br />Four and a half hours after we left <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Novi</span> Sad, we were 1 hour away, but officially in Hungary. The rest of the ride went quickly, and we were back in Vienna by 10:30.<br /><br />As it's taken me this long to finish this post, the Paris one might be a long time coming, although I guess I should finish it before I leave for Stockholm on Thursday.<br /><br />Things are going great in Vienna, it's nice to have a relaxing weekend, and this morning it snowed for the first time. As of today I have been in Europe 6 months! I can't wait to see everyone at Christmas, which is just a few weeks away. However between now and then I have Stockholm, my German class, and the Christmas markets to keep me distracted. Once I return from Stockholm I will start writing posts about daily life in Vienna again, with lots of photos of the city decorated for Christmas.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-18993264874457323602007-10-23T20:45:00.001+02:002007-10-26T15:32:00.945+02:00CroatiaLast weekend was our trip to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rijeka"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rijeka</span></span></span></a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croatia">Croatia </a>to see the sea and visit our friend Marina, who you may remember from Oktoberfest.<br /><br />Attila, MA, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">José</span></span></span>, and I left Vienna at 9am hoping to get to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Rijeka</span></span></span> around 6. However, we had to stop in Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Neustadt</span></span></span> to pick up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Farkhod</span></span></span>, a 30 year old <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">IAESTE</span></span></span> trainee from Uzbekistan. We crammed him into the already packed car and headed to Croatia. On the way we stopped in Slovenia for lunch; the food was good, but nothing special. The wine was cheap, and tasted like it. We finally arrived at the Slovenia/Croatia border and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">that's</span></span> when everything went wrong.<br /><br />You probably won't be shocked to hear that people from Uzbekistan need visas to enter other countries, and as Croatia isn't EU, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Farkhod's</span></span></span> EU visa was useless. After a long discussion between <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Farkhod</span></span></span> the the border officers he was finally allowed to leave Slovenia on the condition that he was allowed into Croatia. So, we pulled ahead 400m to the Croatia border, where we were stopped again, trapped in no-man's land while <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Farkhod</span></span></span> tried to convince them to let him through. Surprise, surprise, he had to go back. So, we drove him back into Slovenia, and left him with his food, some clothes, and his wallet to find his own way back (he somehow ended up in Munich on his way back to Vienna, don't know how he managed that one).<br /><br />After being thoroughly checked again at the border to ensure there were no more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Uzbeks</span></span></span> hidden in our car, we entered Croatia and drove the 20min to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Rijeka</span></span></span>. As we were entering the city, the sun was setting over the Adriatic.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5GHaBlqFI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/83Cqqg6JW30/s1600-h/IMG_1431.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5GHaBlqFI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/83Cqqg6JW30/s320/IMG_1431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124610519053215826" border="0" /></a>After driving in circles attempting to find a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">parking</span></span> spot, we found a spot to idle and phoned Marina. Looking for a landmark, Attila and MA discovered that we were right by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikola_Tesla">Nikola Tesla</a>'s elementary school, now a part of the University of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Rijeka</span></span></span>. She met us there, and took us to our hostel. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">The hostel w</span></span>as run by the Red Cross and was really really cheap, at ~€8/person/night for a large 5 person room with an amazing view.<br /><br />As the others weren't leaving Vienna until around 4pm, we went out to eat. We stopped into a pizza restaurant and read <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">through</span></span> the menu, someone jokingly pointed out that there was a smoked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">horsemeat</span></span></span> pizza, and one thing lead to another...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FMqBlp8I/AAAAAAAAA6Q/PWS69Sl9zto/s1600-h/IMG_1454.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FMqBlp8I/AAAAAAAAA6Q/PWS69Sl9zto/s320/IMG_1454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124609509735901122" border="0" /></a>It wasn't that bad, it tasted like <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">prosciutto</span>. After that, we went to a bar on a boat, then an English pub where we were finally met by the others.<br /><br />The next morning we woke up late and missed our boat tour (which we weren't too upset about because it would have been €20). While everyone was getting ready I took these pictures of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Rijeka</span></span> and the Adriatic from our window, I told you it was a good view.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FNKBlp9I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/9Zj2TTM1RW0/s1600-h/IMG_1484.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FNKBlp9I/AAAAAAAAA6Y/9Zj2TTM1RW0/s320/IMG_1484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124609518325835730" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FNqBlp-I/AAAAAAAAA6g/8ZvVn6zmY7M/s1600-h/IMG_1485.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FNqBlp-I/AAAAAAAAA6g/8ZvVn6zmY7M/s320/IMG_1485.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124609526915770338" border="0" /></a>On one of the utility room doors in the hostel we found this sign; no grinding.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FN6Blp_I/AAAAAAAAA6o/3Bi5aXAEtWE/s1600-h/IMG_1487.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FN6Blp_I/AAAAAAAAA6o/3Bi5aXAEtWE/s320/IMG_1487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124609531210737650" border="0" /></a>The central streets of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Rijeka</span></span> have been turned into a large pedestrian mall. One random thing is that the pedestrian street was paved in marble, the local stone, very classy.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5II6BlqGI/AAAAAAAAA7g/C2rMFnYh53g/s1600-h/IMG_1200.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5II6BlqGI/AAAAAAAAA7g/C2rMFnYh53g/s320/IMG_1200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124612743846275170" border="0" /></a>Unlike Bosnia, there were flags everywhere in Croatia. However, the flags of most of the Balkan countries and the Bosnian province of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Srpska</span></span> look very similar, with red, white, and blue stripes in different orders and occasionally a crest. Croatia's flag was no different.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FOKBlqAI/AAAAAAAAA6w/6tVlzrN-AWs/s1600-h/IMG_1488.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5FOKBlqAI/AAAAAAAAA6w/6tVlzrN-AWs/s320/IMG_1488.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124609535505704962" border="0" /></a>Near the bus terminal there was this very ornate church, parts of it reminded me of the fisherman's bastion in Budapest.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EtKBlp3I/AAAAAAAAA5o/dW2xCRSlStM/s1600-h/IMG_1490.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EtKBlp3I/AAAAAAAAA5o/dW2xCRSlStM/s320/IMG_1490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124608968570021746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EtqBlp4I/AAAAAAAAA5w/QYimqVodVsg/s1600-h/IMG_1492.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EtqBlp4I/AAAAAAAAA5w/QYimqVodVsg/s320/IMG_1492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124608977159956354" border="0" /></a>The hills around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Rijeka</span></span> are filled with houses, our hostel was also on one of the hills, which was so steep that the buildings all along the street were set back a few meters and connected to the walled sidewalk by bridges one or two stories up from the ground floor.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IJqBlqHI/AAAAAAAAA7o/d3pHI8XXPSw/s1600-h/IMG_1212.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IJqBlqHI/AAAAAAAAA7o/d3pHI8XXPSw/s320/IMG_1212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124612756731177074" border="0" /></a>After a super-cheap ($1) hearty lunch at a student cafeteria we drove about 20min to the tourist-town of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opatija"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Opatija</span></span></a>, parked the cars and went right to one of the rocky beaches.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EuaBlp5I/AAAAAAAAA54/JzilmxTVViw/s1600-h/IMG_1501.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5EuaBlp5I/AAAAAAAAA54/JzilmxTVViw/s320/IMG_1501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124608990044858258" border="0" /></a>The water was clear blue and warm, considering the fact that the air was ~8°C. It wasn't warm enough to swim in, by European standards, but felt like the St.Lawrence in June.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5Eu6Blp6I/AAAAAAAAA6A/9JwVaP93Lng/s1600-h/IMG_1508.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5Eu6Blp6I/AAAAAAAAA6A/9JwVaP93Lng/s320/IMG_1508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124608998634792866" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Predrag</span></span>, me, Attila, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">José</span></span>, and Andrew.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IK6BlqII/AAAAAAAAA7w/XNw_LPyoNtM/s1600-h/IMG_1228.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IK6BlqII/AAAAAAAAA7w/XNw_LPyoNtM/s320/IMG_1228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124612778206013570" border="0" /></a>Jasmina (Macedonia) and Cora<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IMaBlqJI/AAAAAAAAA74/yfKUPJHBpT8/s1600-h/IMG_1239+-+Copy.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IMaBlqJI/AAAAAAAAA74/yfKUPJHBpT8/s320/IMG_1239+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124612803975817362" border="0" /></a>From that beach we walked along the seawall <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">infront</span></span> of large homes, hotels, and parks.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IOaBlqKI/AAAAAAAAA8A/LEaIkr_A2o0/s1600-h/IMG_1254.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5IOaBlqKI/AAAAAAAAA8A/LEaIkr_A2o0/s320/IMG_1254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124612838335555746" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C56BlpyI/AAAAAAAAA5A/Amev_iMyup0/s1600-h/IMG_1534.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C56BlpyI/AAAAAAAAA5A/Amev_iMyup0/s320/IMG_1534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124606988590098210" border="0" /></a>After walking around to the harbour and through a large park we came upon a coffee and cocktail bar with a sandy beach and lounge chairs. It was their last day of operation for the season so we had the place mostly to ourselves.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C6aBlpzI/AAAAAAAAA5I/mcoP_cvi5xo/s1600-h/IMG_1544.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C6aBlpzI/AAAAAAAAA5I/mcoP_cvi5xo/s320/IMG_1544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124606997180032818" border="0" /></a>After a cappuccino we headed straight for the lounge chairs. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">José</span></span> found it very cold, as winter in southern Portugal is about as cold as a warm fall day. Andrew on the other hand proved that 8°C is Canadian sunbathing weather.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C7KBlp0I/AAAAAAAAA5Q/DfeMztIxXvc/s1600-h/IMG_1545.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C7KBlp0I/AAAAAAAAA5Q/DfeMztIxXvc/s320/IMG_1545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124607010064934722" border="0" /></a>Our short coffee stop turned into a long lounge by the Adriatic.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C76Blp1I/AAAAAAAAA5Y/ilJtTY7XzTU/s1600-h/IMG_1550.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C76Blp1I/AAAAAAAAA5Y/ilJtTY7XzTU/s320/IMG_1550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124607022949836626" border="0" /></a>The architecture and feel of Western Croatia is very Italian, because at one point it was a part of Italy, and is only 90km away from Trieste.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C86Blp2I/AAAAAAAAA5g/OuU9altzlXU/s1600-h/IMG_1556.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5C86Blp2I/AAAAAAAAA5g/OuU9altzlXU/s320/IMG_1556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124607040129705826" border="0" /></a>That night we toured around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Rijeka</span></span>, and ended up back in the now-very-crowded boat bar. The next morning we decided to part ways with one car (Attila, Cora, Jasmina, and myself) going back through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ljubljana">Ljubljana</a>, and the other car (MA, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Predrag</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">José</span></span>, and Andrew) taking the longer route through <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zagreb">Zagreb</a>, dropping Marina off at her parent's house on the way.<br /><br />We opted to keep driving instead of entering Ljubljana, and got the Slovenia-Austria border just as it started to get dark.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5B2qBlptI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/TJw6aXpX8o4/s1600-h/IMG_1563.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rx5B2qBlptI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/TJw6aXpX8o4/s320/IMG_1563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124605833243895506" border="0" /></a>We arrived back in Vienna at 8:00, and had the girls over to our place to celebrate Attila's 24<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">th</span></span> birthday.<br /><br />Today (25<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">th</span></span>) I leave for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Novi</span></span> Sad, Serbia. Sounds like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Szilvia</span></span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Laslo's</span></span> family is very excited to meet us, it should be great. It'll be fun to hang out with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Laslo</span></span> again, and enjoy the extra long <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">weekend</span></span> (holiday + 1 extra hour from daylight savings).<br /><br />After Serbia I have 1 evening to pack (for the move and Paris) and move into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Haus</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Döbling</span></span>, then Tuesday evening I have my first German class, and Wednesday I leave for Paris, so the Serbia post might be a while, and might be really quick to make room for what is sure to be a novel-length Paris post.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-32551342635504304372007-10-15T19:13:00.000+02:002007-10-17T20:14:21.224+02:00Gradiška and Banja Luka BosniaI know what you're thinking, Bosnia? There was a change in plans and our Bosnia and Croatia weekends were swapped. I would just like to say that I know the country is called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bosnia_and_Herzegovina"><span style="font-style: italic;">Bosnia and Herzegovina</span></a>, but that it far too long to write over and over, so I'll just call it Bosnia.<br /><br />So, Friday at 3pm Andrew, MA, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">José</span></span>, Cora, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Predrag</span></span>, and I boarded a bus for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gradiska"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Gradiška</span></span></a> (š = sh). The trip took 7.5 hours, taking us through Austria, Slovenia, and Croatia. Thankfully the bus was nice and modern and not full, giving us some room to stretch and sleep. We also had one rest stop somewhere in Slovenia where we played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">frisbee</span></span> and I took the photo below. Although it still felt like home we knew we weren't in Kansas anymore.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM8qBlpjI/AAAAAAAAA3M/SGQ7LWZ-WvA/s1600-h/IMG_1292.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM8qBlpjI/AAAAAAAAA3M/SGQ7LWZ-WvA/s320/IMG_1292.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662543695554098" border="0" /></a>We arrived in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Predrag's</span></span> home town of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Gradiška</span></span> at 10:30, 30 minutes ahead of schedule because we flew through the borders. We were met by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Predrag's</span></span> half-sister <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Milana</span></span> and some of his friends. They took us and our 500lbs of luggage (I brought a normal sized backpack, I don't know why others (Cora) felt the need to bring enough for a week), to a really nice bar where his sister bought us a gigantic pizza (which came with bottles of sweet and spicy ketchup, something common in Eastern Europe) and a round of beer. Like in most Eastern European countries the beer was very cheap and good, around 1€ for 0.5L. From there we went on to a bar with live music. The place was very smoky, but the Serbian music was half decent. I asked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Predrag</span></span> to burn me a CD which I'll bring home at Christmas.<br /><br />At that point we headed to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Predrag's</span></span> house as it was getting late. We were greeted by his mom and dad. His dad spoke broken German (about as much as I know) so we could communicate alright, but his mom only spoke Serbian, so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Predrag</span></span> had to be our translator. Even though we had just come from a bar and a giant pizza we were quickly offered a beer, a big piece of delicious pineapple cake, and our first shot of home-made plum schnapps (I would guess it was at least 60% alcohol, 1% plum, and 39% fire). By the time I finally got to sleep I was out like a light.<br /><br />The next morning we had a chance to explore a bit before breakfast. This is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Predrag's</span></span> house, with the separate kitchen building to the right.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ4KBlpII/AAAAAAAAAz0/tTnW_X0UY-Y/s1600-h/IMG_1404.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ4KBlpII/AAAAAAAAAz0/tTnW_X0UY-Y/s320/IMG_1404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659167851259010" border="0" /></a>To celebrate our visit to Bosnia, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Predrag's</span></span> parents killed one of their pigs, which is a big honour. Here is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Predrag's</span></span> dad roasting the pig.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM9KBlpkI/AAAAAAAAA3U/-bIIUgC_iaQ/s1600-h/IMG_1297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM9KBlpkI/AAAAAAAAA3U/-bIIUgC_iaQ/s320/IMG_1297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662552285488706" border="0" /></a>Someone must have been sitting there all day turning it while we visited <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Luka</span></span>, because there was no motor, just a wooden pole.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNd6BlpmI/AAAAAAAAA3k/H9mMxK-6bVI/s1600-h/DSC00798.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNd6BlpmI/AAAAAAAAA3k/H9mMxK-6bVI/s320/DSC00798.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121663114926204514" border="0" /></a>As a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">pre</span></span>-breakfast snack <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Predrag</span></span> picked us some white and black (red) grapes. They were really sweet, and the black ones tasted like artificial grape flavouring, who knew it was actually a real flavour?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM-6BlplI/AAAAAAAAA3c/BILcnrN7gM8/s1600-h/IMG_1299.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM-6BlplI/AAAAAAAAA3c/BILcnrN7gM8/s320/IMG_1299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662582350259794" border="0" /></a>Here is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Predrag's</span></span> niece Leo watching us cautiously as we checked out the pig pens.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMdKBlpcI/AAAAAAAAA2U/qHbL3F0jjeg/s1600-h/IMG_1302.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMdKBlpcI/AAAAAAAAA2U/qHbL3F0jjeg/s320/IMG_1302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662002529674690" border="0" /></a>The pig pens were filled with a bunch of 3 day old piglets. They were really cute, but we had to keep in mind that they were the younger siblings and cousins of supper, not pets.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMd6BlpdI/AAAAAAAAA2c/9JVQ-OEYFXI/s1600-h/IMG_1303.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMd6BlpdI/AAAAAAAAA2c/9JVQ-OEYFXI/s320/IMG_1303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662015414576594" border="0" /></a>The fields behind the house were filled with old-fashioned haystacks<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMeaBlpeI/AAAAAAAAA2k/5U0HCfFp6d0/s1600-h/IMG_1304.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMeaBlpeI/AAAAAAAAA2k/5U0HCfFp6d0/s320/IMG_1304.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662024004511202" border="0" /></a>After a hearty supper of eggs, chicken, bread, and pita (a mixture of egg and cheese topped with a thin crust) we drove to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Luka</span></span> (Бања Лука), the second largest city in Bosnia, which was about 45 minutes away. On the way we met up with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Laslo</span></span>, our Serbian friend who used to used to work in Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Neustadt</span></span> with Cora, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">José</span></span>, and I.<br /><br />In <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Luka</span></span> we stopped for coffee and beer at a bar in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Predrag's</span></span> dorm. The coffee was served in tiny little cups and wasn't very strong. I opted for a Pepsi, which was good but tasted almost nothing like the North American version. The guy between Andrew and MA is Sascha, one of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Predrag's</span></span> roommates.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNeKBlpnI/AAAAAAAAA3s/168NYbfnwyM/s1600-h/IMG_0940.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNeKBlpnI/AAAAAAAAA3s/168NYbfnwyM/s320/IMG_0940.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121663119221171826" border="0" /></a>The beer (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">pivo</span></span> or пиво) everyone drinks in Bosnia is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Nektar</span></span>, but in most cases you see it written in cursive Cyrillic like below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMe6BlpfI/AAAAAAAAA2s/K6huDRo9fSs/s1600-h/IMG_1307.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMe6BlpfI/AAAAAAAAA2s/K6huDRo9fSs/s320/IMG_1307.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662032594445810" border="0" /></a>Knowing my Greek letters from math and science courses, and receiving a quick crash course from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Laslo</span></span> I was able to read most of the Cyrillic writing, which when translated was usually easily understood. <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">For example try and read the sign below.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxZQLKBlpsI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/E-zM-jewtTE/s1600-h/IMG_5028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxZQLKBlpsI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/E-zM-jewtTE/s320/IMG_5028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122369778780317378" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Mashinski</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Phakultet</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Banja</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Luka</span> = <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Banja</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Luka</span> Machining (Mechanical Engineering) Faculty.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">After the bar we stopped in to see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Predrag's</span></span> room which he shared with 2 other guys. It was fairly small, but clean, much<br />nicer than the room we had in Budapest. The floor's bathrooms were pretty sick, just a row of dirty <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squat_toilet">squat toilets</a>. However, he only pays 5€/month so it was understandable, and worth it.<br /><br />While walking down the street Andrew saw someone he had met in Austria at a conference the weekend before. While they were talking about their random encounter in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Luka</span></span>, Cora, MA, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Laslo</span></span> tried to balance on one of the a small poles which line the sidewalks. Thanks to my amazing photographic skills it looks like they actually managed it, when in fact they failed miserably.<br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMfaBlpgI/AAAAAAAAA20/-T_ZJvuGK4I/s1600-h/IMG_1309.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPMfaBlpgI/AAAAAAAAA20/-T_ZJvuGK4I/s320/IMG_1309.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662041184380418" border="0" /></a>Throughout Bosnia we saw churches and mosques being built. Many were destroyed or damaged in the recent war or in previous invasions. This Orthodox church with the gold roof was being re-built in the centre of the city where it once stood 100 years ago.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLrKBlpXI/AAAAAAAAA1s/2dj4Qi-dIK0/s1600-h/IMG_1311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLrKBlpXI/AAAAAAAAA1s/2dj4Qi-dIK0/s320/IMG_1311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121661143536215410" border="0" /></a>The high-price shopping street with painted plaster buildings reminds you that Bosnia used to be part of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Austrio</span></span>-Hungarian Empire, and that is is recovering, slowly, from the war.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNe6BlpoI/AAAAAAAAA30/lwgmxhVXxzk/s1600-h/IMG_0961.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNe6BlpoI/AAAAAAAAA30/lwgmxhVXxzk/s320/IMG_0961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121663132106073730" border="0" /></a>In a large communist-era department store in the center of town we found this Popeye ride.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLsKBlpYI/AAAAAAAAA10/7dA6_STo6D0/s1600-h/IMG_1317.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLsKBlpYI/AAAAAAAAA10/7dA6_STo6D0/s320/IMG_1317.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121661160716084610" border="0" /></a>The Cyrillic street signs just looked really cool. The second line on the yellow part (градишка)<br />reads <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Gradiška</span></span>. This sign also shows the prevalence of English as the international language of tourism, with both airport (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">aerodrom</span></span>) and town center (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">centar</span></span>) being written in both languages.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLsqBlpZI/AAAAAAAAA18/11kmscOe-fI/s1600-h/IMG_1322.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLsqBlpZI/AAAAAAAAA18/11kmscOe-fI/s320/IMG_1322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121661169306019218" border="0" /></a>We checked out a few markets and walked over to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">Kastel</span></span> fortress. Unfortunately I don't remember much about the history of it, and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Wikipedia</span></span> (Википедија) article is in Cyrillic Serbian. Either it was built to defend the city against the Ottomans or to protect the Ottomans against other invaders.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLtKBlpaI/AAAAAAAAA2E/AE6d3kvdSe4/s1600-h/IMG_1326.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLtKBlpaI/AAAAAAAAA2E/AE6d3kvdSe4/s320/IMG_1326.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121661177895953826" border="0" /></a>Me, Cora, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Laslo</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Drazen</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Predrag</span></span>, Sascha, Andrew, Ma, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">José</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLtqBlpbI/AAAAAAAAA2M/S4Qp7K8kfDE/s1600-h/IMG_1331.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLtqBlpbI/AAAAAAAAA2M/S4Qp7K8kfDE/s320/IMG_1331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121661186485888434" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLFqBlpSI/AAAAAAAAA1E/zxfURPXM6rA/s1600-h/IMG_1334.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLFqBlpSI/AAAAAAAAA1E/zxfURPXM6rA/s320/IMG_1334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121660499291120930" border="0" /></a>Parts of the fortress were still in ruins.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLHKBlpTI/AAAAAAAAA1M/l1vY3t0wcRM/s1600-h/IMG_1336.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLHKBlpTI/AAAAAAAAA1M/l1vY3t0wcRM/s320/IMG_1336.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121660525060924722" border="0" /></a>Taking a break form all the walking.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLH6BlpUI/AAAAAAAAA1U/q1ITHLFNhMc/s1600-h/IMG_1338.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLH6BlpUI/AAAAAAAAA1U/q1ITHLFNhMc/s320/IMG_1338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121660537945826626" border="0" /></a>Downtown <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Luka</span></span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLIaBlpVI/AAAAAAAAA1c/uoOm9kKHysw/s1600-h/IMG_1342.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLIaBlpVI/AAAAAAAAA1c/uoOm9kKHysw/s320/IMG_1342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121660546535761234" border="0" /></a>On the walk back to the cars we passed this church, it looked like something from Expo '67 or the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Jetsons</span></span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLIqBlpWI/AAAAAAAAA1k/Xc6BHNdGIks/s1600-h/IMG_1345.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPLIqBlpWI/AAAAAAAAA1k/Xc6BHNdGIks/s320/IMG_1345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121660550830728546" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">Banja</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">Luka</span></span> is the capital of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Republika_Srpska"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Republika</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">Srpska</span></span></a>, the new (post war) Serbian portion of Bosnia. The government buildings were almost complete, but there were still some very brave construction workers on some very sketchy scaffolding.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKSqBlpNI/AAAAAAAAA0c/TGeOLGsW1L8/s1600-h/IMG_1347.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKSqBlpNI/AAAAAAAAA0c/TGeOLGsW1L8/s320/IMG_1347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659623117792466" border="0" /></a>We peaked in on a soccer game between <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">FC</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Radnik</span> from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">Bijeljina</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">FC</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Borac</span> from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">Banja</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Luka</span> (I directly translated the names from the poster, so they're probably spelled wrong). We didn't stay long, but it was cool to see.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKTaBlpOI/AAAAAAAAA0k/y-xrKhSyn48/s1600-h/IMG_1349.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKTaBlpOI/AAAAAAAAA0k/y-xrKhSyn48/s320/IMG_1349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659636002694370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKT6BlpPI/AAAAAAAAA0s/YFffCx7czlU/s1600-h/IMG_1353.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKT6BlpPI/AAAAAAAAA0s/YFffCx7czlU/s320/IMG_1353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659644592628978" border="0" /></a>On the way back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">Gradiška</span> we stopped into a restaurant for, you guessed it, a beer. When we finally got back <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">Predrag's</span> mom had made an amazing 3 course dinner with chicken noodle soup, cabbage rolls, pickled peppers, coleslaw, and pork. There was also plenty of bread, beer, and schnapps (surprise, surprise) and more pineapple cake for dessert.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKUaBlpQI/AAAAAAAAA00/WiQGUBZJAZ0/s1600-h/IMG_1370.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKUaBlpQI/AAAAAAAAA00/WiQGUBZJAZ0/s320/IMG_1370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659653182563586" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">Predrag</span> and Leo<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKVKBlpRI/AAAAAAAAA08/zsW2H10c_3o/s1600-h/IMG_1380.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPKVKBlpRI/AAAAAAAAA08/zsW2H10c_3o/s320/IMG_1380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659666067465490" border="0" /></a>After dinner we just stayed around the table drinking and singing while MA played the guitar. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">Predrag's</span> dad and friends sang some Serbian songs and we sang some English ones. It was a really fun night which reminded me of hanging out with friends at home.<br /><br />Sunday morning I wandered around some more. Here are all the nuts they've gathered from the trees on their property. They became our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">pre</span>-breakfast a few minutes later.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ46BlpJI/AAAAAAAAAz8/YaVzi5Lqpt4/s1600-h/IMG_1407.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ46BlpJI/AAAAAAAAAz8/YaVzi5Lqpt4/s320/IMG_1407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659180736160914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ66BlpLI/AAAAAAAAA0M/3DeTxtr4Ab4/s1600-h/IMG_1411.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ66BlpLI/AAAAAAAAA0M/3DeTxtr4Ab4/s320/IMG_1411.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659215095899314" border="0" /></a>The ugliest bird I've ever seen. It is called a guinea fowl and is used as an alarm for the chicken coop. When scared by a snake or any other predator it apparently screams, alerting the farmer.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ56BlpKI/AAAAAAAAA0E/IPJ7O0VIPJk/s1600-h/IMG_1408.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ56BlpKI/AAAAAAAAA0E/IPJ7O0VIPJk/s320/IMG_1408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659197916030114" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNfaBlpqI/AAAAAAAAA4E/2NSxkcedY2w/s1600-h/IMG_1005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNfaBlpqI/AAAAAAAAA4E/2NSxkcedY2w/s320/IMG_1005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121663140696008354" border="0" /></a>Here we are eating nuts and pretzels for pre-breakfast. The guy in the white hat is Predrag's older brother.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM7aBlphI/AAAAAAAAA28/e64B-Q3VofY/s1600-h/IMG_1025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM7aBlphI/AAAAAAAAA28/e64B-Q3VofY/s320/IMG_1025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662522220717586" border="0" /></a>What's breakfast without some home-made schnapps? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNfKBlppI/AAAAAAAAA38/sG60GgsF-0w/s1600-h/IMG_1000.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPNfKBlppI/AAAAAAAAA38/sG60GgsF-0w/s320/IMG_1000.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121663136401041042" border="0" /></a>For breakfast we had everything from the supper before, again, including the beer. I think I had more alcohol this weekend than I did last month at Oktoberfest! but, when in Rome...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ7qBlpMI/AAAAAAAAA0U/z2YZGNd-3nM/s1600-h/IMG_1413.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPJ7qBlpMI/AAAAAAAAA0U/z2YZGNd-3nM/s320/IMG_1413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121659227980801218" border="0" /></a>A group photo infront of the house right before we left. There were others where everyone is looking into the camera, but I like this one because Predrag's mom is laughing.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPI9aBlpHI/AAAAAAAAAzs/lvgoXTZZVUU/s1600-h/IMG_1414.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPI9aBlpHI/AAAAAAAAAzs/lvgoXTZZVUU/s320/IMG_1414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121658158533944434" border="0" /></a>We got on the bus to head home at 2:30. Laslo, Drazen, Sascha, Leo, and Predrag stayed to wave goodbye. Predrag was going to stay another day and come back on Monday. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM8KBlpiI/AAAAAAAAA3E/-Z-4TbOBF7Q/s1600-h/IMG_1033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RxPM8KBlpiI/AAAAAAAAA3E/-Z-4TbOBF7Q/s320/IMG_1033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121662535105619490" border="0" /></a>The second bus was packed, and the guy I sat beside stank, so I knew it was going to feel like a much longer journey. What I didn't expect was how long we would have to wait at the borders. At the Bosnia-Croatia border and Croatia-Slovenia(EU) border we waited for over an hour, and had to get out of the bus to go through passport control. However, as I was sitting beside a smelly Bulgarian who kept pushing me further into the aisle, I was happy to get out of the bus to show my passport and stretch my legs. The trip ended up being over 9 hours long, but thankfully I caught the last tram home.<br /><br />I would have to say that this was the best weekend so far. Seeing a country from the perspective of the locals is so much better than being a tourist and living in a hostel. So many people had warned me about Bosnia being a scary impoverished place, but I saw it as a country with a rough history and the desire to change and grow. As it is with all poorer countries I've been to, the people seem nicer and more sociable, with plenty of time to relax with friends and family.<br /><br />This weekend we're going to Rijeka Croatia by car. While there we're going to hang out with IAESTE Rijeka, hike, and hopefully visit the coast. I'll be sure to take lots of photos for all of you who read this regularily (and never comment).<br /><br />I've been going over old posts at work and finding lots of gramatical and spelling mistakes, so, if you find one (which many people have) please tell me so I can fix it. For example, in the Oktoberfest post I had written Liederhosen, which Szilvia reminded me means songs-pants, and that she was pretty sure I meant to write lederhosen which means leather-pants.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-46791164983486576332007-10-07T12:22:00.001+02:002007-10-15T19:13:08.626+02:00Moving, Munich, Oktoberfest, and FüssenYesterday (Saturday) we finally got the Internet up and running, so I'll start this post now and see how long it takes to finish. Last Thursday after work I moved out of Albert <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Schweizer</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Haus</span></span> and into Attila (Slovakia) and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">I's</span> new apartment. At that point there was only one (pullout) bed and the apartment was freezing cold so I wasn't too pleased, to say the least. Now though there are two beds, and we've broken up the corner couch, putting one half in the entrance way, making the living room a bedroom. Also, now the heat is 'on' and the wireless is up, so it is much better. Here are a few photos of the place before we moved the beds and couch around:<br /><div style="text-align: center;">The Kitchen<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFA6BlpBI/AAAAAAAAAy8/skyjvVgbs1I/s1600-h/IMG_1282.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFA6BlpBI/AAAAAAAAAy8/skyjvVgbs1I/s320/IMG_1282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050177082401810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBKBlpCI/AAAAAAAAAzE/gGOGHuaKgaE/s1600-h/IMG_1281.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBKBlpCI/AAAAAAAAAzE/gGOGHuaKgaE/s320/IMG_1281.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050181377369122" border="0" /></a>Bathroom. Notice the personal water heater (very common)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBaBlpDI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Twr90P4vasA/s1600-h/IMG_1278.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBaBlpDI/AAAAAAAAAzM/Twr90P4vasA/s320/IMG_1278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050185672336434" border="0" /></a>A tub in Europe?!?!! I think it's the first one I've seen.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBqBlpEI/AAAAAAAAAzU/wTLDt3n8PkE/s1600-h/IMG_1279.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFBqBlpEI/AAAAAAAAAzU/wTLDt3n8PkE/s320/IMG_1279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050189967303746" border="0" /></a>The living room before we moved stuff around. Now my bed is in the far corner.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFCKBlpFI/AAAAAAAAAzc/jBaq72FA0UU/s1600-h/IMG_1284.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFCKBlpFI/AAAAAAAAAzc/jBaq72FA0UU/s320/IMG_1284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050198557238354" border="0" /></a>The entryway where my bed used to be and where the couch is now.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFTKBlpGI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AYqZvAR3e0c/s1600-h/IMG_1283.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RwqFTKBlpGI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AYqZvAR3e0c/s320/IMG_1283.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119050490615014498" border="0" /></a>I'll take a photo of the outside of the house and the garden next time I'm home during daylight hours, might be a while...<br /></div><br /></div>That night MA and I took the night train to Munich. This train was much nicer and much more organized than the others I've been on. I guess <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">that's</span> the difference between Western Europe and Eastern Europe; one has complementary chocolate croissants and bottled water, the other has angry border patrol officers and complementary near-abandonment in the Czech republic.<br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Friday - Oktoberfest</span></span><br />We arrived at 6:30am and were met by Henrik and Marina who arrived from Croatia at 5am. After a nap at Henrik's we walked down to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oktoberfest">Oktoberfest</a>, arriving around noon. As it was pouring rain we ran into the first tent we saw, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Löwenbräu</span></span> tent (Pronounced "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Loovenbroy</span></span>"). These 'tents' are only in place for the three weeks of Oktoberfest but they are huge arenas. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Löwenbräu</span></span> tent was mid-sized and held 4,400 people all sitting at tables, some hold over 8,000!<br /><a aiotitle="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0DaBlodI/AAAAAAAAAuc/ar0zkFIgVFw/s1600-h/IMG_1044.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0DaBlodI/AAAAAAAAAuc/ar0zkFIgVFw/s320/IMG_1044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118538947125158354" border="0" /></a>Inside was just one huge party, with over half of the people in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liederhosen"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">lederhosen</span></span> </a>and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirndl">dirndl</a>. In the center you can see the large band-stand where they played German drinking songs including the classic "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ein</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">prosit</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ein</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">prosit</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">der</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">germütlichkeit</span></span>!" Which roughly translates to "a toast, a toast, traditional good times" it's hard because <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gemutlichkeit"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">gemütlichkeit</span></span></a> really doesn't have an English translation, think having fun playing board games around a fire at Christmas with family as opposed to having fun at an amusement park.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0FaBlohI/AAAAAAAAAu8/coC0XspzUew/s1600-h/IMG_1076.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0FaBlohI/AAAAAAAAAu8/coC0XspzUew/s320/IMG_1076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118538981484896786" border="0" /></a>As we arrived 'late' there weren't any unreserved tables left. So, we grabbed a table that was free until 5pm and bought our first round. At Oktoberfest the only volume of beer you can buy is 1L <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Maßes</span></span>, and Oktoberfest beer is stronger than normal beer, about 6%. Here you can see Henrik's whole €200 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">lederhosen</span></span> getup, which was complete with shirt, socks, and traditional shoes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0DqBloeI/AAAAAAAAAuk/Ul9nYpmHp8o/s1600-h/IMG_1048.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0DqBloeI/AAAAAAAAAuk/Ul9nYpmHp8o/s320/IMG_1048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118538951420125666" border="0" /></a>People were constantly walking around with stuff for sale, from large <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">bready</span></span> pretzels, to radishes, to cool felt hats. I have to say I was a sucker for the felt hat, but it was a wise purchase as it kept the rain off my head for the rest of the day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0EaBlofI/AAAAAAAAAus/9IWBL9JuM0k/s1600-h/IMG_1066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0EaBlofI/AAAAAAAAAus/9IWBL9JuM0k/s320/IMG_1066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118538964305027570" border="0" /></a>1st litre almost gone...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0E6BlogI/AAAAAAAAAu0/y_HD1EqvNMg/s1600-h/IMG_1068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0E6BlogI/AAAAAAAAAu0/y_HD1EqvNMg/s320/IMG_1068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118538972894962178" border="0" /></a>But don't worry, there's always more the instant you want it. I was amazed by the brute strength of the beer maids, some were holding even more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Maßes</span>, with a few stacked on top in a second tier.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-KBloiI/AAAAAAAAAvE/4fvoeadcIFY/s1600-h/IMG_1080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-KBloiI/AAAAAAAAAvE/4fvoeadcIFY/s320/IMG_1080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118539956442472994" border="0" /></a>Needless to say, in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">beerhall</span></span> filled with 4,400 drunk patrons drinking out of glass mugs, there are a few casualties.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-aBlojI/AAAAAAAAAvM/DfSN4ol9aTE/s1600-h/IMG_1084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-aBlojI/AAAAAAAAAvM/DfSN4ol9aTE/s320/IMG_1084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118539960737440306" border="0" /></a>We randomly met a guy named Ben who was an American living in South Africa, and stopping over in Munich on his way to Sweden. He was an interesting guy, who was pretty proud of his bad German. After many claims that he was going to drink 5 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Maßes</span></span>, he fell asleep on the table after about 2.5. After 5 hours, half a chicken, a pretzel, and 4L of beer each (except Marina and Ben, of course) we were kicked out of the reserved seats. We wandered around, made some friends, and eventually left the tent. Outside the rain had stopped, and the vendors were out in full force. A common sight were the booths selling iced gingerbread hearts with love notes printed on them. There were ribbons through the top and girls wore them around their necks.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-6BlokI/AAAAAAAAAvU/dgO8g_fE8kU/s1600-h/IMG_1097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0-6BlokI/AAAAAAAAAvU/dgO8g_fE8kU/s320/IMG_1097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118539969327374914" border="0" /></a>We wandered through the tents, but most were closed to new people or had impossibly slow moving lines. The fairground looked fun but we were tired and poor, so we got back on the subway heading towards the city centre.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0_aBlolI/AAAAAAAAAvc/pXftQGqsXd4/s1600-h/IMG_1111.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi0_aBlolI/AAAAAAAAAvc/pXftQGqsXd4/s320/IMG_1111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118539977917309522" border="0" /></a>We checked out the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hofbrau"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Hofbräu</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Haus</span></span></a> downtown but the lines were too long, so we wandered around, stopped into the Hard Rock <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Café</span></span> and eventually went back to Henrik's.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Saturday - Munich</span></span><br />Saturday was our day to tour Munich. We started at city hall, which was really nice, but not as nice as Vienna's. That's the problem with living in the most beautiful city in Europe, almost everything else is very nice, but not as nice.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1AKBlomI/AAAAAAAAAvk/WZkdJbXT7Fw/s1600-h/IMG_1123.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1AKBlomI/AAAAAAAAAvk/WZkdJbXT7Fw/s320/IMG_1123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118539990802211426" border="0" /></a>Some random tower, by <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">city hall</span>. We stopped near the base for a breakfast sausage.<a aiotarget="false" aiotitle="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1oKBlonI/AAAAAAAAAvs/x97MVJyApWU/s1600-h/IMG_1129.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1oKBlonI/AAAAAAAAAvs/x97MVJyApWU/s320/IMG_1129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118540677996978802" border="0" /></a>We climbed a church tower to get this amazing view of the city. Mom, Dad, and Aunt Marilyn, recognize this view?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1oaBlooI/AAAAAAAAAv0/WquiQZBD-TQ/s1600-h/IMG_1133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1oaBlooI/AAAAAAAAAv0/WquiQZBD-TQ/s320/IMG_1133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118540682291946114" border="0" /></a>In front of the city hall there was this 'fish fountain' which was first installed to be filled with fish during market days to keep them alive and fresh.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1o6BlopI/AAAAAAAAAv8/ufYSrZd3pgU/s1600-h/IMG_1137.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1o6BlopI/AAAAAAAAAv8/ufYSrZd3pgU/s320/IMG_1137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118540690881880722" border="0" /></a>From city hall we walked though the city to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Englischer_Garten_%28Munich%29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Englischer</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Garten</span></span></a>, a huge park in the middle of the city. In one part of the garden there is a large Chinese tower with a 7000 seat <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">biergarten</span></span> open all year long. There was a big band in the tower, and a decorated horse-drawn beer wagon below.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1paBloqI/AAAAAAAAAwE/kT-tsB9dg8Q/s1600-h/IMG_1148.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1paBloqI/AAAAAAAAAwE/kT-tsB9dg8Q/s320/IMG_1148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118540699471815330" border="0" /></a><a aiotarget="false" aiotitle="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1pqBlorI/AAAAAAAAAwM/A8525Dyg3WY/s1600-h/IMG_1152.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi1pqBlorI/AAAAAAAAAwM/A8525Dyg3WY/s320/IMG_1152.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118540703766782642" border="0" /></a>From the garden we got lost walking around but eventually took the U-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Bahn</span> to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olympiapark%2C_Munich"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Olympiapark</span></span></a>, the grounds from the 1972 Munich Olympics. We went into the BMW Museum, checking out the old motorcycles and cars, including a cool little car like the one Steve <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Urkel</span></span> drove, with the door on the front.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4HqBlo8I/AAAAAAAAAyU/TgFTD7YeDYY/s1600-h/IMG_1154.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4HqBlo8I/AAAAAAAAAyU/TgFTD7YeDYY/s320/IMG_1154.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118543418186113986" border="0" /></a>The Olympic arenas and swimming pools were all made out of this metal and glass fabric mesh, hard to believe it was 33 years old, it looked really modern.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4H6Blo9I/AAAAAAAAAyc/iYEGPYnjM54/s1600-h/IMG_1157.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4H6Blo9I/AAAAAAAAAyc/iYEGPYnjM54/s320/IMG_1157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118543422481081298" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4IaBlo-I/AAAAAAAAAyk/ZWSdMMUDwqw/s1600-h/IMG_1165.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4IaBlo-I/AAAAAAAAAyk/ZWSdMMUDwqw/s320/IMG_1165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118543431071015906" border="0" /></a>When we returned to downtown, we passed city hall and saw this dragon attacking some stone villagers. Imagine someone proposing a building today, and saying, "Now, I know it sounds a bit crazy but I think we should have a large bronze dragon scaling the building, scaring away some hand-carved stone villagers". This is why I love Europe.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4IqBlo_I/AAAAAAAAAys/aw3ikqEl0GQ/s1600-h/IMG_1168.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4IqBlo_I/AAAAAAAAAys/aw3ikqEl0GQ/s320/IMG_1168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118543435365983218" border="0" /></a>Around the corner from the city hall there is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munich_Frauenkirche"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Frauenkirche</span></span></a>, a large brick church built in only 20 years, but severely damaged in WWII, not being fully restored until 1994.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4JKBlpAI/AAAAAAAAAy0/RJkxJn7M418/s1600-h/IMG_1169.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi4JKBlpAI/AAAAAAAAAy0/RJkxJn7M418/s320/IMG_1169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118543443955917826" border="0" /></a>From the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Frauenkirche</span> we wandered around some more, stopping first for a beer, and then for some ice cream. In recognition of Oktoberfest they had Beer-flavoured ice cream, which I had to buy, but would never buy again. I don't know what I expected, but it tasted like stale beer mixed in with vanilla ice cream... yum...<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sunday - Füssen</span></span><br />Early Sunday morning the four of us bought a €33 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Schönes</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Wochenende</span> ticket, which gives unlimited train travel in Germany all day for up to 5 people. The 2h train to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fussen"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Füssen</span></a> passed through the Bavarian Alps, a picturesque landscape of grazing cows, small villages, green rolling hills, black forests, and blue mountains.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3cqBlo3I/AAAAAAAAAxs/dNsELUfSYvs/s1600-h/IMG_1174.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3cqBlo3I/AAAAAAAAAxs/dNsELUfSYvs/s320/IMG_1174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542679451738994" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3c6Blo4I/AAAAAAAAAx0/zVFhmSHCkyI/s1600-h/IMG_1175.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3c6Blo4I/AAAAAAAAAx0/zVFhmSHCkyI/s320/IMG_1175.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542683746706306" border="0" /></a>From the train station we took a bus to the base of the hills the two castles are built on. We took the scenic route up to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Marienbrücke</span>, stopping to take photos of the amazing views down to the lake and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Schloss</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Hohenschwangau</span> which you will see later. Here is a picture of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Marienbrücke</span> taken later from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Schloss Neuschwanstein</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3D6Blo1I/AAAAAAAAAxc/QbMW24QobDg/s1600-h/IMG_1214.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3D6Blo1I/AAAAAAAAAxc/QbMW24QobDg/s320/IMG_1214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542254249976658" border="0" /></a>The only reason people have been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">trekking</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Marienbrücke</span> for over 100 years is this amazing view of King Ludwig <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">II's</span> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neuschwanstein"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Schloss</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Neuschwanstein</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3dKBlo5I/AAAAAAAAAx8/WlZZVSxbuV0/s1600-h/IMG_1180.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3dKBlo5I/AAAAAAAAAx8/WlZZVSxbuV0/s320/IMG_1180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542688041673618" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Neuschwanstein</span> is a 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">th</span> century palace built by "crazy" King Ludwig II of Bavaria. It was inspired by the opera Lohengrin, and was designed by a set designer, not an architect. This <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">imaginative</span> design was the reason <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Walt</span> Disney chose this castle to be the inspiration for the Disneyland castle. It was one of the short-listed 21 wonders of the world, and is supposedly the most photographed building in Germany. I assisted this statistic by taking dozens and dozens of photos myself. Here are my favourites:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3eKBlo7I/AAAAAAAAAyM/0RGEEKKLbBs/s1600-h/IMG_1192.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3eKBlo7I/AAAAAAAAAyM/0RGEEKKLbBs/s320/IMG_1192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542705221542834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3BaBloyI/AAAAAAAAAxE/3rD8LDdJ0Z8/s1600-h/IMG_1195.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3BaBloyI/AAAAAAAAAxE/3rD8LDdJ0Z8/s320/IMG_1195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542211300303650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3CKBlozI/AAAAAAAAAxM/13RFcLZhaJ4/s1600-h/IMG_1201.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3CKBlozI/AAAAAAAAAxM/13RFcLZhaJ4/s320/IMG_1201.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542224185205554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3CaBlo0I/AAAAAAAAAxU/Rlrn4-8oB5g/s1600-h/IMG_1207.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3CaBlo0I/AAAAAAAAAxU/Rlrn4-8oB5g/s320/IMG_1207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542228480172866" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3EKBlo2I/AAAAAAAAAxk/5AVF6yeIHjI/s1600-h/IMG_1226.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi3EKBlo2I/AAAAAAAAAxk/5AVF6yeIHjI/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118542258544943970" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2dqBlotI/AAAAAAAAAwc/Zee3ArTt5AY/s1600-h/IMG_1228.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2dqBlotI/AAAAAAAAAwc/Zee3ArTt5AY/s320/IMG_1228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541597119980242" border="0" /></a>After walking around the outside of the castle, we walked down to a viewing site for the waterfall beneath Marienbrücke which you can see in the photo above. From the waterfall we walked the 20 minutes to King Ludwig II's parents castle, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schloss_Hohenschwangau">Schloss Hohenschwangau</a>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2eKBlouI/AAAAAAAAAwk/0qWokanq3Pk/s1600-h/IMG_1241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2eKBlouI/AAAAAAAAAwk/0qWokanq3Pk/s320/IMG_1241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541605709914850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2eqBlovI/AAAAAAAAAws/ZI7nzFoL8Bk/s1600-h/IMG_1243.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2eqBlovI/AAAAAAAAAws/ZI7nzFoL8Bk/s320/IMG_1243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541614299849458" border="0" /></a>From Hohenschwangau we still had about an hour left, so we decided to check out the Alpensee (Alpine lake). It was crystal clear, with a tropical aqua tint, and best of all it must not have been in the Japanese tour books because it was deserted.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2fKBlowI/AAAAAAAAAw0/V4s-Eky4-UU/s1600-h/IMG_1261.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2fKBlowI/AAAAAAAAAw0/V4s-Eky4-UU/s320/IMG_1261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541622889784066" border="0" /></a>Walking around the lake we came across this view of Schloss Hohenschwangau on the left, the town of Hohenschwangau in the centre and Schloss Neuschanstein on the mountain to the right. Let me remind you that you can always click on all the photos to get larger full-resolution copies. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2faBloxI/AAAAAAAAAw8/YySxDW5thsg/s1600-h/IMG_1269b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2faBloxI/AAAAAAAAAw8/YySxDW5thsg/s320/IMG_1269b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541627184751378" border="0" /></a>The fall colours and cool temperatures really reminded me of home, and were very relaxing. It was hard to leave knowing that we had a 2h train ride back to Munich, then a 2h train ride to Salzburg, and finally a 3h train to Vienna.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2C6BlosI/AAAAAAAAAwU/TOkV-JofoT4/s1600-h/IMG_1274.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rwi2C6BlosI/AAAAAAAAAwU/TOkV-JofoT4/s320/IMG_1274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118541137558479554" border="0" /></a>The train from Munich to Salzburg was very entertaining as it was packed full of drunk people in liederhosen, with most of them still drinking.<br /><br />On Thursday we went to our friend Stefan's apartment to watch Arrested Development on DVD using his projector. It was really relaxing and reminded me of hanging out with friends at home. On Saturday Szilvia, Cora, Sladjan (works downstairs with Cora), and I bought tickets to the 'Long Night at the Museums', where for €10 you can get into 89 museums across Vienna from 6pm-1am. We saw the planetarium, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belvedere_%28palace%29">Belvedere Palace</a> which contained permanent paintings by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klimt">Klimt</a> and other famous Austrian artists as well as the exhibit '<a href="http://www.belvedere.at/jart/prj3/belvedere/main.jart?rel=de&content-id=1173990963421&j-dummy=active&reserve-mode=active">Wien-Paris</a>' with paintings by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Picasso">Picasso</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Van_Gogh">van Gogh</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gauguin">Gauguin</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monet">Monet</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manet">Manet</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toulouse-Lautrec">Toulouse-Lautrec</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/C%C3%A9zanne">Cézanne</a>, and more. From Belvedere we went to the museum of architecture (boring...) and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MUMOK">Museum Moderner Kunst</a> (Museum of Modern Art). In the MUMOK there were many 'interesting' things, some I would consider art, and some I consider disturbing. The highlights were 'art' by Yoko Ono, and a phone call from my family having Thanksgiving at my Aunt Moe's in Québec. Apparently my conversation was a bit loud, as my friends said they could clearly hear me on the other side of the gallery... Oh well, it was nice to hear everyone's voices again, hard to believe I've been gone so long, and that life goes on without me. From there we finished the evening in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Natural_History_Museum">Naturhistorisches Museum</a> (the Museum of Natural History). It was cool, there was a hot air balloon which kept rising and falling through the large hole in the heavily ornamented lobby ceiling, identical to the one in the Kunsthistorisches Museum from my <a href="http://joeinaustria.blogspot.com/2007/06/kunsthistorisches-museum-karlskirche.html">June 10th</a> post. We saw the dinosaurs, then got very tired very quickly and decided to go home, as it was already 12:30 and the special museum buses which were going to take Szilvia and Sladjan home were almost done for the night. Overall, the night was a lot of fun, and gave us the chance to see a lot of things which we normally wouldn't have paid the €8 individual entrance fees for.<br /><br />This weekend is my trip to Croatia, so hopefully this extra-long post will keep you happy until then. Remember to post a little comment if you can (apparently it doesn't work form some people), I love to hear who's reading.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-1731871546685909592007-10-02T09:34:00.000+02:002007-10-02T09:39:42.907+02:00Moving, Munich, Oktoberfest, and FüssenI don't have Internet at my new place yet, so it might be a while before I get a post up, especially because I have to cut down the 45 pictures I have set aside for this post or I'll be uploading them all week.<br /><br />My new place is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>, ASH was much nicer, warmer, more private, and cheaper, but this place is alright. My weekend in Munich was great, had lots of fun; it was cool seeing Henrik again. I've been away from work for 4 days now, so I guess I should start being productive...<br /><br />I will post as soon as I can.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-38128226823911434882007-09-23T18:47:00.000+02:002007-09-24T10:59:29.519+02:00Il Barbiere di Siviglia and the KahlenbergOn Saturday I wandered around <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mariahifestraße</span> with Cora, looking for a new pair of shoes and a jacket. I didn't find either, but picked up some stuff that I needed, like some new shirts to add to the 7 shirt rotation. Living with the contents of a suitcase for 12 months can get a bit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">repetative</span>, I feel like I have my Monday clothes, Tuesday clothes, etc..<br /><br />We decided to see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Il</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Barbiere</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">di</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Siviglia</span> (The Barber of Seville) on Saturday at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Staastoper</span>. I figured, if it was boring we could just leave at intermission, but it was really really good, especially considering that we payed 2€. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">definitely</span> think that the first opera I saw '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Otello</span>' gave me the wrong impression of operas. The two I've seen since have been funny, with slap-stick comedy, jokes, an easy-to-follow plot, and many moments where the music is so recognisable you could hum along.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab3p-Za7I/AAAAAAAAAtk/PcVlYoHfPTI/s1600-h/IMG_0803.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab3p-Za7I/AAAAAAAAAtk/PcVlYoHfPTI/s320/IMG_0803.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113445807388453810" border="0" /></a>Sunday I went to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Kahlenberg</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Leopoldsberg</span> with Cora, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Szilvia</span>, and her brother <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Laslo</span>. On the way to the tram I passed a marching band just wandering down the street, I wonder where they were going?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab45-Za_I/AAAAAAAAAuE/UeG8vx--XCo/s1600-h/IMG_1018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab45-Za_I/AAAAAAAAAuE/UeG8vx--XCo/s320/IMG_1018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113445828863290354" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Laslo</span> drove us from his residence to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Kahlenberg</span> which is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">monastery</span> on a mountain that looks out over the city. It was nice, but the sky was so hazy that you really couldn't see much. From the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Kahlenberg</span> we walked the 20min to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Leopoldsberg</span>, a fortress-monastery, more rustic and medieval looking than the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Kahlenberg</span>.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Szilvia</span> and Cora tried out the kids ride, a random thing to find in a medieval fortress/church. Well worth the 50 cents, it even played music.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RvacmJ-ZbAI/AAAAAAAAAuM/i1-bzAjTG6k/s1600-h/IMG_1030.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RvacmJ-ZbAI/AAAAAAAAAuM/i1-bzAjTG6k/s320/IMG_1030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113446606252370946" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Here's</span> a picture of me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">in front</span> of the church overlooking Vienna, further proof that I actually am still alive and healthy.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab35-Za8I/AAAAAAAAAts/wjaaJkXj-yw/s1600-h/IMG_0817.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab35-Za8I/AAAAAAAAAts/wjaaJkXj-yw/s320/IMG_0817.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113445811683421122" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Szilvia</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Laslo</span>, and I taking time to contemplate life, love, and how happy we were that Cora finally got rid of her walking stick.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab4p-Za-I/AAAAAAAAAt8/EyxF1yfkUKs/s1600-h/IMG_0823.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Rvab4p-Za-I/AAAAAAAAAt8/EyxF1yfkUKs/s320/IMG_0823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113445824568323042" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RvacmZ-ZbBI/AAAAAAAAAuU/zh3V3LtERuY/s1600-h/IMG_1037.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RvacmZ-ZbBI/AAAAAAAAAuU/zh3V3LtERuY/s320/IMG_1037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113446610547338258" border="0" /></a>After taking what <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">seemed</span> like hundreds of photos at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Leopoldsberg</span>, we walked back to the car and drove to a restaurant called 'Centimeter III'. There are seven Centimeter restaurants in Vienna (all numbered I-VII). They are inexpensive restaurants where you can buy many things by the length ex. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">sausages</span>, bread, pasta, beer (1m of beer is a long board with 8 different pint glasses on it), etc.. While sitting at the restaurant we decided that the next time <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Szilvia</span> goes home to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novi_Sad"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Novi Sad</span></a>, Serbia, Cora and I will go too. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Laslo's</span> visa runs out in two weeks, so this way we'll be able to hang out without <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Laslo</span> sneaking back into Austria in a truck hidden under bags of potatoes. We'll also take a day trip to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belgrade">Belgrade</a>. The only downside of visiting Serbia is the 7h bus ride, on a smoking bus...<br /><br />Thursday night I move into my new apartment and then leave for Munich, so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">there'll</span> be plenty to post about later next week.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-48106565078544133922007-09-15T19:17:00.001+02:002007-09-20T14:57:29.725+02:00Harvest Festival, Sisi Museum, and Spanish Riding SchoolLast weekend we stayed in Vienna, but still had a lot of fun.<br />Cora's mom and sister were in Vienna for the weekend, so I spent Friday night and Saturday with them.<br />On Saturday we planned to go on a tour at the Spanish Riding School. On the way there from the subway we passed the front of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hofburg</span>,</span> which was swarming with people. It was a harvest festival with booths selling traditional foods, jams, honey, and crafts. There was a large stage setup with a big band playing a polka. On the lawn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">between</span> the booths there were bails of hay decorated with vegetables, a little random, but they looked cool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ruwcd42AAII/AAAAAAAAAss/5eteswbk9-0/s1600-h/IMG_0989.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ruwcd42AAII/AAAAAAAAAss/5eteswbk9-0/s320/IMG_0989.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110490976959332482" border="0" /></a>When we got the the riding school, we were told we would have to wait about 3 hours for the next tour. So, we decided to go to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sisi</span></span> (Empress Elizabeth) museum. I'm sure I've told you about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_of_Bavaria"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sisi</span></span></a> before. She's basically the Austrian Princess Di. She was an the Empress of Austria-Hungary about 100 years ago and was famous for being very obsessed with beauty. She had a 51cm waist (20"), slept with a leather and raw-veal beauty mask, washed her hair in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">bourbon</span> and eggs, identified with Titania Queen of the Fairies from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Shakespeare's</span> Midsummer Nights Dream, refused to have any portrait painted of her after she turned 30, and was stabbed to death in Geneva with a nail file. After her death her life she became a symbol of beauty and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">opulence</span>. We weren't allowed to take photos in the museum or in the royal apartments, so, sadly I have nothing to show you.<br /><br />Some things about the royal apartments that stood out to me:<br />- The Emperor and Empress slept in extremely simple twin sized iron beds which appeared to be afterthoughts in their lavish bedrooms. They looked really out of place.<br />- All the rooms were connected to one another in a row, with no separate hallway. So, to get from the conference room to the grand salon, you had to walk through both the Emperor and Empresses bedrooms and studies. I assume people would have gone outside and come back in at another entrance, but it seems odd.<br />- There were secret doors everywhere, visible only by their hinges, handles and the (not always obvious) rectangular seam. These were servants doors which also lead to the heating hallways where servants <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">filled</span> the large ceramic stoves from behind to avoid making a mess in the royal rooms.<br />- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sisi</span></span> had a gym in her study (to stay fit, skinny, and young) which was very very odd at that time. She had parallel bars, a pull-up bar and rings screwed into one of the doorways.<br />- On the tour, the audio-guide talked about the habits of the emperor. For instance, he woke up every morning at 3:30! sleeping in until 4:30 if he had a late night. Also, the palace was kept at 14-15°C, as anything more was 'wasteful' (sounds like my dad).<br /><br />The museum also contained the royal dinner service museum. Basically, a whole lot of old dishes. Apparently the royal service was able to serve 5000 people at once, and one of the many elaborate <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">centrepieces</span> made out of mirror and gold, was able to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">extend</span> to 15m! Finally a table that can hold all of my family for Christmas. Here are some of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">candelabras</span> from the collection, towers of molded and carved gold.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ruwceo2AAJI/AAAAAAAAAs0/rXlNTVSizHk/s1600-h/IMG_0991.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ruwceo2AAJI/AAAAAAAAAs0/rXlNTVSizHk/s320/IMG_0991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110490989844234386" border="0" /></a>There was also an extensive collection of Oriental ceramics brought over from representatives from China and Japan, then incorporated into useful objects by <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Austrian</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">silversmiths</span>. I thought the candlestick guy below was pretty cool, and really random.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcfI2AAKI/AAAAAAAAAs8/5n071mCOZIk/s1600-h/IMG_0994.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcfI2AAKI/AAAAAAAAAs8/5n071mCOZIk/s320/IMG_0994.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110490998434168994" border="0" /></a>This centrepiece just looked like something from Dr.<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Seus</span></span>. At one time, all the ceramic fruits held scented <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">potpourris</span>, and the central silver trunk held burning <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">incense</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcfY2AALI/AAAAAAAAAtE/1p0u9oqeElg/s1600-h/IMG_0996.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcfY2AALI/AAAAAAAAAtE/1p0u9oqeElg/s320/IMG_0996.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110491002729136306" border="0" /></a>The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_Riding_School">Spanish Riding School</a> is also located in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Hofburg</span></span>, and is the home of the famous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Lipizzan</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">stallions</span>. Picture also weren't allowed in the SRS, but before I learned that I got a good picture of the arena where the shows take place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcgI2AAMI/AAAAAAAAAtM/GQMyrHM_b9I/s1600-h/IMG_0998.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuwcgI2AAMI/AAAAAAAAAtM/GQMyrHM_b9I/s320/IMG_0998.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110491015614038210" border="0" /></a>The School is almost 500 years old, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">making</span> it the oldest in the world, and is very steeped in tradition. Only <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lipizzan</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">stallions</span> born in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Piba</span></span>, Austria from talented paternal lineages can be trained, and they can only be sat upon by a few dozen men educated at the riding school.<br /><br />We also crossed the street to the stables where the 69 stallions are kept. The stables take up the entire first floor of an old palace, and are literally in the centre of Vienna. I've been walking by the stables dozens of times and never knew they were there. The stables have carved plaster ceilings and marble troughs, it's a bit over the top, but so is everything else in Vienna. We saw all of the horses, and the various harnesses and saddles custom made for every horse. I swear, these horses have a much better life than anyone I know. They live in a palace in the centre of the old city, have their rooms cleaned every hour, do two shows a month, only really train for an hour a day, have a three month vacation <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">every</span> summer in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Piba</span></span>, retire to the Austrian countryside, and have life expectancies that exceed most other horses.<br /><br /><br />On Sunday MA and I went back to the harvest festival. It was really packed, but we discovered a parade in progress, so it was fun.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ru2djI2AAOI/AAAAAAAAAtc/9eBC-KzGDGM/s1600-h/IMG_1016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ru2djI2AAOI/AAAAAAAAAtc/9eBC-KzGDGM/s320/IMG_1016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110914379130339554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ru2di42AANI/AAAAAAAAAtU/papBa3Mk-OM/s1600-h/IMG_1012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/Ru2di42AANI/AAAAAAAAAtU/papBa3Mk-OM/s320/IMG_1012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110914374835372242" border="0" /></a>After the parade we went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Leopoldsberg</span></span> to meet up with some other people for the walk up a ~400m mountain (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Leopoldsberg</span></span>) to the fortress-church/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Heurigen</span></span> at the top. At the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Heurigen</span></span> we drank some wine, ate some traditional salt bread, and MA and I had some homemade <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">zucchini</span> soup because it had gotten much colder, and we were wearing shorts. Unfortunately I stopped off at my room before going and left my camera behind. However, I might be going back this Sunday to show Cora, if so, I'll be sure to bring my camera along.<br /><br />For those of you who care but don't already know, I'm moving one week today to an apartment in the 17<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">th</span></span> district, which is actually a little (4min) closer to work. Then later that night I leave for Munich. So, this weekend will probably be a very cheap one, we'll probably go to the opera on Saturday, who knows.<br /><br />Last night we were supposed to go to a swimming pool/disco on a boat in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Danube</span>, but it was too expensive, so instead we went to a nice restaurant. There we decided to plan a trip to Croatia/Bosnia in mid-October, hopefully it works out, I'll keep you informed.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-80740805044815618912007-09-10T20:38:00.000+02:002007-10-07T14:37:18.445+02:00Medieval Festival and HeiligenkreuzFirst things first, we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">finally</span> had a nice day on Saturday, so here is a photo of the front of my residence, which sadly, I have to move out of at the end of the month.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWX0mTz0kI/AAAAAAAAAsE/PQdscgYwAVA/s1600-h/IMG_0969.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWX0mTz0kI/AAAAAAAAAsE/PQdscgYwAVA/s320/IMG_0969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108656282214322754" border="0" /></a>I'm not sure where they're moving me yet, but I should know by tomorrow, hopefully.<br /><br />Saturday was the final day that our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Summery</span> tickets were valid, so we decided to go to a medieval festival in a small town about one hour north of Vienna towards the Czech Republic. The majority of the inner city within the old city walls was closed to cars, and swarming with people, most of whom got the decreased entrance fee by dressing in period costume. The streets were littered with straw and occasionally cabbage (thrown at the prisoner wagon on the way to and from re-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">enacted</span> trials). There was a ton of delicious foods ranging from a lamb cooking on a spit, to home made potato chips and desserts. To drink there was to met (mead, wine made from honey) and met bier (honey beer), both of which were good, although the beer was very sweet.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXymTz0gI/AAAAAAAAArk/ibePZGRXDl8/s1600-h/IMG_0949.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXymTz0gI/AAAAAAAAArk/ibePZGRXDl8/s320/IMG_0949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108656247854584322" border="0" /></a>The entertainment included <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Gypsy</span> magicians, tight-rope walkers, fire breathers, a cool medieval bag-pipe and drum band, sword fights, witch trials, traditional dancing, and a lot of skits performed in German.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXzWTz0hI/AAAAAAAAArs/Bk4k5Yxvp4E/s1600-h/IMG_0953.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXzWTz0hI/AAAAAAAAArs/Bk4k5Yxvp4E/s320/IMG_0953.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108656260739486226" border="0" /></a>The town itself was the perfect backdrop for the festival because it too was medieval. It was odd to think that everything being portrayed at the fair actually once happened there, within those city walls.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXz2Tz0iI/AAAAAAAAAr0/yhfXqPCwrBk/s1600-h/IMG_0956.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWXz2Tz0iI/AAAAAAAAAr0/yhfXqPCwrBk/s320/IMG_0956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108656269329420834" border="0" /></a>Between the inner and outer city walls we happened upon this man stoking this oven. We were going to get a closer look and ask him about it but were asked to move out of the way. Apparently we were between an amateur axe-thrower and his target...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWX0WTz0jI/AAAAAAAAAr8/Pu5ubBYht-4/s1600-h/IMG_0967.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWX0WTz0jI/AAAAAAAAAr8/Pu5ubBYht-4/s320/IMG_0967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108656277919355442" border="0" /></a>On Sunday <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Laslo</span> (who is the younger brother of my coworker <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Szilvia</span> from Serbia/Hungary, and who also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">worked</span> in Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Neustadt</span>, but downstairs with Cora) drove Cora and I to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Heiligenkreuz</span> because he wanted to check it out, and we thought a road-trip would be fun.<br /><br />On the way there we got lost in Baden, but found this cool castle crumbling away <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">on top</span> of a hill.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWerWTz0mI/AAAAAAAAAsU/nJBjWZQpyYQ/s1600-h/IMG_0975.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWerWTz0mI/AAAAAAAAAsU/nJBjWZQpyYQ/s320/IMG_0975.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108663819881927266" border="0" /></a>Driving into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Heiligenkreuz</span> we noticed hundreds of cars parked along the street. Apparently the Pope (who had been in Vienna Thursday-Saturday) was at the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">monastery</span> we had planned to visit, but had just left a few minutes before we arrived. When we walked in there were hundreds and hundreds of people, many of whom were priests, bishops, monks, and nuns wearing all sorts of robes all in different colours and styles.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWer2Tz0nI/AAAAAAAAAsc/sUoD5FqmciE/s1600-h/IMG_0978.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWer2Tz0nI/AAAAAAAAAsc/sUoD5FqmciE/s320/IMG_0978.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108663828471861874" border="0" /></a>We went into the main church. It was eerily beautiful because the architecture was simple but stunning, the windows were meticulously patterned with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">stained</span> glass, and there was a choir of nuns singing softly in Latin(?).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWeq2Tz0lI/AAAAAAAAAsM/bjlOtDSzI9E/s1600-h/IMG_0982.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWeq2Tz0lI/AAAAAAAAAsM/bjlOtDSzI9E/s320/IMG_0982.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108663811291992658" border="0" /></a>On the drive out I snapped a photo of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Heiligenkreutz</span> in the valley below.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWesWTz0oI/AAAAAAAAAsk/59tTeXx5RDw/s1600-h/IMG_0985.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_r8V40CAOiv8/RuWesWTz0oI/AAAAAAAAAsk/59tTeXx5RDw/s320/IMG_0985.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108663837061796482" border="0" /></a>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-32403241223928794102007-09-05T15:14:00.000+02:002007-09-05T18:36:14.334+02:00Quick UpdateSo, I haven't really done anything exciting since my last post, but I figured I'd fill you in on the little things and my plans for the next few months.<br /><br />- Last Tuesday I went to the birthday party of Helena, a Czech <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">trainee</span> at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ECHEM</span> who lives in Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Neustadt</span>. It ended up being lots of fun, and there was so much delicious food. I wowed a group of people with my Aunt Kate's vomiting cherry tomato trick which she would always do for us when we were little (you cut a small mouth-like slit into the tomato then tell a little story which inevitably ends with the tomato puking which you achieve by squeezing it to make all the seeds spew out). The Serbians <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">thought</span> it was hilarious and I was asked to repeat it so many times I used up all the cherry tomatoes at the party. I also ran into Helena's old German teacher who I will likely be taking lessons from for a fraction of the price that I'd pay in Vienna.<br /><br />- Last Wednesday a large group of people from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ECHEM</span> went to a traditional <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Heurigen</span> in a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">village</span> half way back towards Vienna called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Guntramsdorf</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Heurigens</span> are restaurants which serve their own wines and are set up almost like a deli. You go up to the counter and pick out ready made salads and other small dishes, and order whatever else you want. The company paid for all the wine and platters of sliced bread with a bunch of different spreads. Most of us got a traditional <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">heurigen</span> meal of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">surschnitzel</span> and some form of potato salad. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Surschnitzel</span> is a pork schnitzel which had been soaked in brine for a few days before being fried. It was really good, but describing it right now I realise how unhealthy a big chunk of salty fried pork and a bowl of potato salad was. Oh well, when in Rome...<br /><br />- Last Thursday there was an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">IAESTE</span> international foods party at our residence. We were thinking about making <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">poutine</span>, but I couldn't find curd or gravy. That didn't deter Andrew, who just made cheese-fries with a big blob of ketchup in the corner as the "Canadian dish". Highlights of the party were Russian/Lithuanian/Bosnian/Croatian <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">hashbrowns</span>, a hand-made <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Viennese</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">sachertorte</span>, a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Portuguese</span> version of pigs in a blanket made of sausages wrapped in some kind of thick lettuce, then soaked in red wine and cooked in the oven, and a 'low fat' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Uzbekistani</span> salad that contained egg, corn, shrimp, rice, and enough mayo to hold it all together. A new trainee from the US arrived that day. She's working in the same building as me and unfortunately I had to tell her how long it takes to get to Wiener <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Neustadt</span> every day. Her name is Cora, and she'll be here for 10 months. We're already making plans to visit Greece in the spring when most of the other trainees will have left. Also, her Grandmother has a house in the south of France, so we're all going to go and check that out sometime between now and May.<br /><br />- The building we live in (for now) which I showed you a photo of in July is finally (almost) finished. At least the facade is uncovered, I'll take a photo when I get home and add it. [Just got home, its really rainy and dark, so the photo will have to wait until tomorrow]<br /><br />- On the night of September 27<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">th</span> MA and I are leaving for Munich. On Friday we'll spend the entire day at Oktoberfest, hopefully meeting up with Henrik (Vienna trainee from Sweden) who moved there a week or two ago and Andrew (the other Vienna trainee from Canada). On Saturday we're going to the village of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Füssen</span> to see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Neuschwanstein</span>, the castle that inspired the Walt Disney castle. Finally, on Sunday we'll just be hanging out around Munich. Thankfully Henrik has said we can sleep on his floor because hostels were booked up months ago (when I first looked) and any single hotel rooms that are still left are starting at 400€/night.<br /><br />- On Halloween MA and I are flying to Paris for 6 days. We booked a really great hostel in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Montmatre</span> recommended to us by the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Columbians</span>, and I'm really excited. We may take a bus to Belgium for a day, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">that's</span> all still to be decided.<br /><br />- Right now it's rainy and 9°C, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">apparently</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">that's</span> not too odd for September in Austria. Also, there's a big storm warning so the trains are sure to be off schedule. Tonight we're going to an old restaurant the cellar of a building in the old part of the city. Should be fun. Tomorrow is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">MA's</span> birthday, so I'm sure we'll do something, and on Friday we're all going to see <span class="movieTitle">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Bourne</span> Ultimatum, which is just premiering now.<br /><br />OK, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">gtg</span> do some work, I wrote a lot more than I expected.<br /></span>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1533912863050668102.post-88333565838299732822007-08-27T09:54:00.000+02:002007-08-29T10:33:45.190+02:00Day 110I left for Austria on May 10, and will be returning for Christmas vacation on December 16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>, a period of 220 days. Therefore, today, my 110<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> day, is the half way point, and roughly the 1/3 point for my entire internship. It is so hard to believe that I've been here for 110 days. So, I've decided to reflect on what has changed, and what has stayed the same since I've been here.<br /><br />Before I left I had only ever been in 3 countries (Canada, US, Mexico). Now I'm up to 11 (Canada, US, Mexico, Germany, Austria, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Liechtenstein</span>, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary) with realistic plans to visit at least 6 more (England, France, Belgium, Italy, Slovenia, Greece).<br /><br />Before I left the longest I had ever been out of Canada was for 11 days, now I've already surpassed that 10<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">x's</span>!<br /><br />Before I left I had been on a train only a handful of times (max 8), now I take 3-4 trains a day, 5 days a week. (If when I return to Canada I never ride a train again I will be eternally <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grateful</span>)<br /><br />Before my 'foreign' friends were Canadian students at Queens who were born in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Philippines</span>, China, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Hong</span> Kong, Japan, Africa etc.. but had been living in Canada for the majority of their life. Now I know people from all over the world, and they actually live there! I have coworkers from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Columbia</span>, Portugal, Serbia, Spain, Ukraine, Russia, Germany, Turkey, Uruguay, the Czech Republic, and India!<br /><br />Some things that have stayed the same: I download all of my TV (with the exception of the BBC), I live mainly on a diet of spaghetti, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">biscuits</span>, ice cream, and Diet Coke, and I see all the big movies in the theatre (in English).<br /><br />Things I miss:<br />- family/friends<br />- 430 1/2 (my old home in Kingston) <br />- the river <br />- <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">incandescent</span> light <br />- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">timbits</span><br />- polite waitresses<br />- catching random bits of conversations in public<br />- good reliable produce<br />- fluffy white bread (they have it but it can be hard to find)<br />- whole wheat pasta<br />- open stores/banks (a sight I rarely see anymore)<br />- buying things on Sunday<br />- driving<br />- Swiss Chalet<br />- unlimited Internet<br />- the drugstore isle of the grocery store<br /><br />Things I don't miss:<br />- flying insects (there are so few 'bugs' here that NONE of the windows have screens)<br />- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">KSTs<br />- Matlab<br /></span><br />Hopefully the next 110 days are filled with as much travel, fun, and adventure as the previous 110. They will include: the return of the students (new friends?), Oktoberfest in Munich, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Neuschwannstein</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Füssen</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Halloween</span> in Paris, Christmas fairs in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Salzburg</span> and Vienna, and many other things <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">that'll</span> just pop up along the way.Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09886637982787108045noreply@blogger.com7