i just got back from travelling europe and boy is my but tired..

So I had this witty recap post that somehow got deleted. Nevertheless here is what I can remember from it:

Thousands of miles crossed, eight cities, seven different airports, six countries, five beaches, four national transit lines, three languages “learned”, two seas, two battlefields, one channel, one ocean, one French beauty, and an empty bank account.

Overall, it was amazing. I’m going to write about each consecutive week in a separate post, although the week in Ireland may take a bit because I am waiting for the photos from Chris. But here is a list to recap what went down.

Best Country: Ireland
Everyone needs to visit this place. Doesn’t really matter where you go as there is so much there. Just stay away from Dublin.

Best City: Galway
An Irish college town! Why wouldn’t it be the best?

Most Touristy Spot: Venice
Although it was really beautiful and interesting, the amount of tourists was appalling. No wonder the city is losing population in droves. That, and its sinking into the sea.

Biggest Disappointment: Dublin
Speaking of touristy spots, Dublin was way too crowded to be enjoyable. It was like some simulacra of Irish Culture. Yuck.

Best Pub: Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, London.
The BEST eating and drinking establishment I have ever been to. If you're ever in London, visit this place. You wont regret it.

Best Scenery: Dingle
Okay, the whole of Western Ireland could fit into this category with the Cliffs of Moher, the Burren, the Ring of Kerry, and the entire northwestern part (which we didn’t have time to explore). But with the quietness and isolation of Dingle, and the view from our hostel, it was the best.

Best Hostel: the Ballintaggart Hostel, Dingle
The murdered wife of the Earl of Cork allegedly haunts this old manor house. But unfortunately, she did not visit Chris and I. Instead, we paid a bargain 15 euro a night for our own private room with shower. (We should have had roommates, but late October isn’t necessarily tourist season). And the view in the morning was simply amazing.

I want to add an appendix to this title, as the hostel in Belfast is well worth mentioning. If ever there, stay at Arnie’s Backpackers as they had wonderful people, a great vibe, and the kindest hostess ever. This place is what being a hostel is all about.

Best Beach: Nice
And it wasn’t because it was topless (which Mariah and I discovered to our chagrin). The weather was 21.5˚ Celsius, which is about 70+ degrees Fahrenheit, and the Mediterranean Sea was this bright blue, almost turquoise. Best beach picnic ever too.

Most Powerful Sight: The Murals in Belfast.
The American Cemetery at Normandy should normally be #1. But I think because I hardly knew anything about the intense, crazed conflict that occurred in Northern Ireland that it takes the top spot. To learn how there was an actual war going on thirty years ago, to view how each side commemorated their involvement with hauntingly beautiful murals, and see the walls that still exist to segregate the Loyalist and Republican neighborhoods was probably the highlight of the entire trip. I wish we had more time and money to take a tour of the battlegrounds and learn more contexts. Everyone needs to learn about this clash, as it’s a shame that my generation (myself included) only know of it as some conflict between Catholics and Protestants, which is a gross inaccuracy.

Worst Bank: Bank of America.
When I get Stateside, I am switching banks. No more outrageous user and conversion fees for Timmy!

jolly old england

My trip to London and the rest of the British Isles/Europe began with a heart attack. I had set my alarm to 6:30am, as we needed to be at the airport at 8am. I remember being woken up by my alarm. Then next thing I know I look at my clock and its 8am. I don’t know if I’ve ever sworn as much as I did in the following moments. Luckily my roommate was able to get me a taxi to the airport, at which I arrived at 8:30. That was one experience I never want to endure again.
With that near catastrophe aside, London was similar to a sports team’s preseason or exhibition games: enjoy it as much as possible, but try and get out with the least amount of damage. With the ghastly conversion rate of nearly 2 US Dollars to the British Pound, the zeitgeist of the group was see and do as much as a shoestring budget would allow. I followed this practical ideology, as I usually do anyway, for the entire week. In addition to the touristy stuff (e.g. Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Piccadilly Circus) I went to two evensong services at St Paul’s Cathedral (although I was unable to sit in the quire both times!); A friend and I were able to haggle the price at the Charles Dickens Museum; I also strolled down Oxford Street (that where the cover photo of Oasis’s What’s the Story Morning Glory was shot…not that I’m a fan or anything) and visited the neighborhoods of Brixton and Camden. I really enjoyed Brixton and its immense diversity of people speaking with Jamaican and West Indies accents, and markets with raw chickens hanging from the windows. This took me aback, as I am used to hung cooked chickens in various Chinatowns, but never raw ones. Camden was fun, but I was partially disappointed and perplexed. With the plethora of “vintage” clothing shops and food stands, I felt it was a fusion between consumerism and alternative subcultures, which is totally illogical and impossible. It would be like if Christiania, or other subculture havens went über-capitalist. Other than those facets, it had a great atmosphere and ambience.
From an educational standpoint (which is why we were there), many activities were provided for us: We explored East London and explored the gentrification that is occurring there; We toured the BBC Headquarters; We viewed the Holocaust exhibit at the National War Museum and had a great discussion about how other genocides are seemingly second fiddle to the former. Lastly we visited Tate Britain, which was one of the few art museums that I enjoyed (I mean museums in general, not specific exhibits).
Academia aside, the highlight of my stay in London was attending the Fulham/Charlton match. Not only was I seeing my favorite team play a crappy opponent (a guaranteed home win is always a good time), but also I was getting out of seeing the silly musical Billy Elliott with my group in the process. I couldn’t have been happier.
Before the match, I went into a pub and ate some pie and chips while downing some fine ale. I know it’s a cliché statement but: when in Rome, do as the Romans do! After the meal I strolled to the stadium, and stumbled upon the team store where I bought a home jersey. I’m not going to disclose the price, but it wasn’t cheap. The stadium, or Cottage as its called, was very old and reminiscent of Fenway Park with its turn on the century construction, wooden seats, and giant poles that restrict the view of many seats. After I got my tickets, I proceeded into the stadium where an usher showed me my seats: 8 ROWS UP! I only paid about $30 US Dollars for the seats, and I was closer than I have been to any professional sporting game in my entire life. My euphoria eventually subsided when I discovered that alcoholic beverages were not permitted in the stands at all. Now I had no intention of getting intoxicated, or even purchasing a drink (remember, I’m on a budget!), but the disallowing of any alcohol beverages within sight of the field (or pitch as the called it) blew my mind. I know that some stadiums have passed this measure at their stadiums or ball parks in order to create/sustain a “Family Atmosphere,” but no drinks anywhere is, from an American perspective, completely unfathomable. No team would even think of banning alcohol possession in the stands (if I’m wrong about this, please correct me). Another interesting measure the stadium took was sanctioning Home/Away/Neutral fan sections. A big placard (next to the no alcohol sign) read that any fan wearing an opponent's colors or jersey would be removed from the stadium. Either I was in an inner city public school, or Fulham took their security seriously. But then again, soccer does have its share of hooligans…
Nevertheless, I befriended the group of Fulham fans next to me and upon revealing it was my first match, they told me it was their 2,635 time attending (I cant quote their exact amount, but it was around there). With the exception of the lively fans and their great cheers/songs, the first half was quite lousy. Charlton, who was last in the Premiership rankings, could have easily scored several times but luckily did not. The second half however had both Brian McBride (an American) and Claus Jensen (a Dane) score within a few minutes of another, thus putting the stadium and I into jubilation. I found these goals both fitting and intriguing, as McBride is probably my favorite player (For those who know me and think I am making this up, I’m not. This past summer consisted of working in a meat department; watching European art house films; beginning to follow soccer. I’m not kidding). Charlton got a (cheap) goal late, but too late to be able equalize the score as Fulham went on to win 2-1.
Overall, it ranked very highly on my sporting viewer ship experiences, be it live or on television. Obviously, the Yankees colossal choke and subsequent Red Sox World Series Championship is #1; and the first Patriot Superbowl victory is #2. This event ranked number three, just ahead of my first ever Ice Cats game in 1994.
So that’s about all I have to say about London except for these random, seemingly arbitrary memories: Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese is the best eating and drinking establishment I’ve ever been to, which is somewhat bad because now I think every place sucks in comparison; I asked some older lady for directions once, and before I was finished completing my question she retorted with “NO!”; There are a lot of Chinese students in my group, and one night after going out with them they facetiously dubbed a fellow American “Chairman Geoff.” Personally, I found it absolutely hilarious. But Geoff seemed very wary and not wanting to accept his position.
The trip to London concluded with I witnessing the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, which was actually quite long and extravagant. Its cavalcade was completely different than the changing of the guard in the States. After which I began my trip to Ireland by trekking out to Stansted Airport (which is an hour away. How can a “London” airport possibly get away with being that far? Could Providence or Hartford ever claim to be a “Boston” Airport? No!). Per usual, go here for photos