Monday, August 13, 2007

Back to London: The End

And so I have returned to London.

I arrived after traveling all day from Belgium, and got some Chinese food before I celebrated my "last" night in Europe with some people I met out on the roof picnic area.

The next morning I awoke quite late and made my way down to the Globe Theatre to see when the next show was. The Globe Theatre is an outdoor theatre just like the ones used when Shakespeare was writing his plays. There is no amplification and only a little light for when the sun goes down, so it might as well have been four hundred years ago. I got there and they told me to come back around five to wait in line for no-shows, so I went off exploring until then.

My original plan was to see a play at the Globe that day and then see a show on the West End later that night, but after walking all the way to Leichester Square (where they sell half-price tickets) I found out that unlike New York, there are no shows on Sunday. I was a little dissapointed, but I figured I would just go to see Othello at the Globe that night at 6:30.

Before I went to go wait, I wandered around some more and realized how many interesting places I had missed my first time in London. Looking back, I really had no idea what I was doing my first week, so I can forgive myself. But that doesn't mean I wasn't dissapointed when I found the Tate Modern, National Film Museum, Prison Museum and the Theatre Museum all closed on a Sunday.

I eventually got back in line and while I was waiting a woman came out of nowhere and asked if anyone needed a £5 standing ticket. She was asking somenoe else, but I just shouted "I'll take it" and she gave it to me.

The show was awesome. I have never been so entertained by Shakespeare. The acting was brilliant. These people were definately some of the best theatre actors in the world, and it was really a great experience seeing it up close in such an intimate setting. At time during the performance, actors would run through the crowd (the theatre is primarily standing-only) and push you out of the way to get on stage. Sometimes they would be carrying lit torches or have their swords drawn, and it just added to the excitement. It was a little tough standing for 3 and a half hours, though. The girl next to me almost fainted and she had to sit down for about ten minutes. I think the only bad part of the show was when I got a hotdog at intermission. I bought it and piled a bunch of yellow mustard on it, thinking it was just normal mustard. When I got back to where I was standing and took a bite though I almost puked. The mustard was really, really spicy. And not like pepper-spicy, I mean wasabi-spicy. The kind that burns your sinuses instead of your tongue, and I had piled it on. I ended up wiping it off with a napkin and making a huge mess because there was no way I was throwing away a £5 hotdog.

After the show, I walked down the River Thames back to my hostel and got Chinese food again. I picked a bad place to splurge, though. It's more expensive in London than anywhere else in the world. Minimum wage here is £5.25. In America it's $5.35. One pound equals two dollars. See the problem?

I woke up this morning and went to get on the bus, and I met two girls that were waiting in the lobby. I told them as I left that if they needed a place to sleep, my key opened up room 11. They said that they needed to get to Heathrow instead, so we ended up splitting a cab to get to Paddington Station where a train took us directly to Heathrow. It's a long story that's not worth telling, but they helped me avoid a lot of stress and headache in the long run.

And so now I am here, sitting in a deserted room in Heathrow Airport, paying a copius sum for a few minutes of internet. As I look back on my trip and think about everything I have done, seen and experience it almost seems like it is too much. Like I'll never really be able to comprehend my entire trips. The memories I've made, places I've seen, people I've met - it all seems overwhelming. Kind of like when your life flashes before your eyes, and all you see it countless good and bad memories, all flowing at once without any order or pattern. I may be saying too much to get a simple point across, so what I really am trying to say is that this trip has been amazing. Just amazing. That's all I can really say.

So I guess I will leave everyone with a sort of "top ten". I've been thinking about this for a while, so here it goes...

10. Berlin in general
9. Drinking in the Delirium Cafe in Brussels and reuniting with Klara and Elli
8. Night out in Dusseldorf with Stefan and his friends
7. First night in Nice hanging out with the Italian girls
6. My day in Vondelpark
5. First night out with the Swiss guys in Stockholm
4. Watching the sunset over Paris on the Butte Montemarte
3. Italian dinner in Napoli when we were treated with wine and mussels
2. Watching the sun rise with a Swedish girl in Stockholm
1. Canyoning in Interlaken

Well, I hope you have enjoyed reading the blog over the last two months. It's been a great encouragement to read your comments and to know that people are interesting in what I am doing. There are so many other stories I haven't told; a lot of smaller stories that really made the trip unique that I just didn't have time to talk about, so make sure you talk to me about my trip when I get back! I'd love to tell you more about it.

Until next year... ;)

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Brussels and Antwerp

Below this is the post about Amsterdam, and below that pictures are up for Copenhagen and Stockholm. Check 'em all out!

If you read back to the Paris entry, perhaps you will remember two girls I met in Paris named Elli and Klara (Klara gave me the tour of paris and the three of us went to the top of the hill overlooking all of Paris). Before I left Klara offered to give me a bed if I was ever in their area. Well, I took up Klara's offer and met her in Antwerp for a two day mega-tour of Brussels and Antwerp.

The trains were a bit screwed up at first, but I eventually did find her at the station. She told me that she could tell pretty quick that I was different that when I was in Paris. "I think your energy is gone, Mr. Rickenbach" Indeed. After almost seven weeks of traveling, I think I am ready to pass out. Nevertheless, she took me on a two hour walking tour over all of Antwerp at night. They have some really cool statues, including one of a man who killed a giant by throwing a human hand at him (ask me for the history of this - I have been educated in this matter). The city was really nice at night, but I was really tired and ready to go to bed, so we headed back.

Her parents were having some people over, but they were leaving as I arrived. Luckily for me, they had quite a bit of leftover paella, so I was able to fill my stomach before eventually drifting off to bed in her brother's old room.

The next morning we set out for Brussels. I told Klara I wanted three things that I believed to be exclusively Belgian: french fries (go figure), mussels and waffles. As long as I could consume those three foods during my stay in Belgium, my trip would be complete. The paella had mussels in it, so I was already way ahead of the curve when we went to Brussels. Her parents were working, so we took bicycles to the local trains station (the town of St. Niklaas, by the way). Apparently a lot of people ride bikes here.

We arrived in Brussels and spent the next few hours exploring the city. Everything from the town hall to the Palais du Justice to the little boy peeing - we saw it all. The most beautiful section of Brussels had to be the city square where the town hall was. It was really great.

We had worked up quite an appetite walking around, so we went to get some Belgian fries and nasty microwaved meat from a small diner type place. After eating solid grease and having a discussion about Belgian politics in french with the cook (I was really not a part of this at all), Klara took me to Delirium Cafe, a place that prides itself on serving over 2,004 different kinds of beer. We had a pretty good time there and we met some girls from Spain. I tried practicing my Spanish with them, but I didn't go that well. They told me it was good, but looking back, I'm not so sure. I was believing anything the gorgeous brunette was telling me at that point...

Elli gave us a call at that point and told us to meet her in fifteen minutes. Neither of us had seen her since Paris, so we were both excited to meet again. After a farewell to the Spanish girls (my low point of the night) we went out to meet Elli. Sure enough, she found us and we had a pretty good time just talking and laughing for a while. The best part was that we met right next to a van selling waffles (it's not as shady as it sounds, believe me). I ordered a "Banana Split Waffle" (or so I thought...it was in French) but to my horror I recieved a plain old banana split with a stupid little wafer waffle stuck on it. I couldn't believe it. I used up my last bit of pocket change for some crappy sundae. I HATE SUNDAES! Luckily there was an American behind me in line and I offered him 1.50 for it (a steal since it was 3.20). He bit and I got a nice crispy waffle glazed in caramel when I went back. My dining experience in Belgium was now complete. Turns out he was an under cover cop in NYC and had been to a few Maryland football games before.

We had to take the train back so our reunion with Elli was short-lived. We had some confusion when we got to the station because we thought that we had missed the last train to St. Niklaas and that her parents would have to pick us up from Antwerp, but it was not the case and we got to the station in time to ride our bikes through the country-side at night before completely passing out after such an exhausting day. The bike ride at night was really beautiful, though. The area is really flat so the sky was enormous.

Well, and that leaves me here, updating my blog on a sleepy Saturday morning. Back to London today!

But before I go, I must leave you with one interesting thing that falls off the list of most tourists. Everyone, and I mean everyone, goes to see that peeing boy...But how many have seen the peeing girl? Count me in for that one.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Bremen and Amsterdam

I stayed a night in Bremen because the journey from Stockholm from Amsterdam could not be done in one day. However long it was though, the ferry from Denmark to Germany had a beautiful sunset. I had trouble finding the hostel, and I again had to walk past numerous sex shops to get to it. Why is this always the case?

I shared an 8 person room with a fifty something year old who was ironing his jeans when I walked in. He seemed like a very nice man, but for the first time during my trip I was actually scared he was going to stab me to death in the night. He was in one section of the room and I was in the other, and all I could hear was him packing, changing, and then closing and locking the door and going through his bag (for the knife, I was sure). I'm not sure why I had such an irrational fear, but before I had any time to really worry I fell asleep. Oops.

I awoke in the morning to him scurrying around yelling "Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!", so he must have been late for something.

On my way to Amsterdam I met some nice people from Florida and New York. The girl in this photo was staying at the same hostel I was, so we went out with the girl in this picture for dinner at an Indian restaurant and then went out and got some coffee afterwards (the guys in the photo were meeting some friends of their own).

The next day I was so tired from travelling I spent the majority of the day in Vondelpark, wandering around. Vondelpark is a giant park right near my hostel and it's full of different kinds of birds and flowers and landscapes. You can really spend an afternoon there checking out all of the nooks and crannies of the park. Out of all the cities I have heard about, Amsterdam is the most talked about. People always have an opinion about the city (it's hard not to when prostitution and weed is legal), so I was very anxious to see how I felt about it myself. People either love it or hate it (kind of like Napoli).

After going to the park I did all my laundry and hung it out around my bed to dry. You get pretty creative with laundry when you are on the road for so long...

The next day I met my friend Dieuwer in the city. Dieuwer and I used to play videogames with eachother online back when I was much younger, and since then we have become good friends. I told him I was in Holland and we thought it would be cool to meet up in Amsterdam and then spend the night at his family's house in Groningen.

We drove around for a while looking for parking until we found a place to stop so we could look at a map. We kind of lost track of time while looking at the map/talking and when we went to start the car back up again, the battery was dead.

We walked around for a while, looking for a door to knock on or someone to talk to to see if they have jumper cables. We asked someone in the street and she pointed us to a woman who had her door open. So we went over to her and asked her if she had cables, but she was really, really suspicious of us and told us to go find a garage. So we went and found a garage, but they were going to charge us twenty five freakin' euros to walk down the street and start a car.

Before all hope was lost and we broke down and paid the money, Dieuwer remembered that he had his dad's service card (like AAA). We called them and they arrived within twenty minutes and charged the battery, allowing us to continue our original quest of finding a parking garage.

We eventually did find one and then headed to the Anne Frank House. It was across the entire city center, so we did get to see a lot of Amsterdam. With all of its canals and houseboats, I think it's one of the most beautiful cities I have been to. I didn't get that close to the Red Light District, so I didn't get a chance to see all the trash and drug use people talk about, so from what I saw it was very nice.

Anne Frank house was pretty neat. We had to wait in a giant line for about forty minutes, but the inside was extremely interesting, if not creepy at times. I have only read half of her diary, so I think I will reread it again when I have the chance. It makes it a lot more exciting if you have actually been there.

After visiting the house, we decided we had had enough of Amsterdam and that it was time to make the drive to Groningen. Driving along the country side in Holland was really nice. Plus, he had an MP3 player so I could hear some familiar music I like, and believe me, that is a luxury.

We got to his house (a renovated two hundred and fifty year old farmhouse!) and fooled around on some guitars and computers before heading to bed. The next morning we packed my stuff in the car and I said goodbye to his parents and the two biggest dogs I have ever seen. (So on this trip I have seen the biggest lips ever and the biggest dogs ever) We headed out to the city center of Groningen and just browsed around for a few hours and also went up to the top of a church steeple that provided a great view.

Shortly after I hopped on the train to meet another friend in Belgium...

Friday, August 3, 2007

Stockholm

Everything you have heard about the women in Sweden is true. Everything.

Never, ever, ever have I seen such a concentration of gorgeous women in my life. Sitting in the station in either Copenhagen or in Sweden will provide you with hours of quality entertainment as you watch solid tens walk by.

Now that that has been said, I will tell you a little bit of what happened in Stockholm...

When I arrived at my hostel, a conversation took place that went something like this:

Hostel Guy: So are you hear for Pride?
Me: For what?
Hostel Guy: Gay Pride weekend is this weekend in Stockholm. That's why all the hostels are full.

(At this point a man dressed as Zorro with leather chaps walks by - No joke)

Me: Oh. Well....Alright. Ummm.
Hostel Guy: Anyways, here's your key.

Soon after that I met some folks from Germany who had completed their planned camping trip early and decided to spend their remaining time in Stockholm. After eating dinner at the hostel we all went out and walked around the city at night. Stockholm has a lot of bridges and islands, so at night it's really a sight to see.

The next day I slept in really late. Not sure why, but maybe it had something to do with the continously bad weather. I was planning on going to the Vasa Museum - a large museum dedicated to the Swedish ship that sank 400 years ago, but by the time I got up and took the metro and the ferry to the island, there were only two hours left and a massive line to get in. So I wandered around the Island, checking out a cool park and the Nordic Museum instead. I also found an aquarium with a really cool entrance. That entrance alone enticed me to spend over an hour inside looking at their fake rain forest (complete with fake rain).

When I got back to the hostel I met up with my roomates (three guys from Switzerland) who were planning to go out that night, so I decided to join them. After eating some dinner (one of them is a chef) we pre-gamed in the room, sang a rousing version of "Ob-la-di-Ob-la-da" and then headed out for quite a night. Sometime during the night I gave them my key (I still don't know why) and we got seperated, so I ended up locked out of the hostel at 7 in the morning, ringing the doorbell incessantly in hopes that someone would get up and let me in. A guy around the age of 65 walking past in the street did notice my situation, and offered to give me a hand.

Guy: Are you locked out?
Me: Yeah, I don´t have my key.
Guy: Are you here for the festival?
Me: (Far too rudely...I regret it) NO. No, I'm just...here.
Guy: Hmmm, well, let me see.

So he starts pressing the doorbell (like I had not thought of this already) and then jamming random buttons on the keypad in hopes that it would just open itself up if he continued to jam the numbers 2, 7 and the "#" symbol. He realized after about two good minutes of pressing random buttons that it wasn't going to work and then invited me for coffee. I told him it would be better for me to keep trying then to stay up another four hours until reception arrived, and he turned to leave, apparently insulted. I thought he was gone until I heard a voice from down the street.

"I am gay"

At this I just slowly turn my head to the side and wait for him to say something else.

"And I'm old so I have no interest in you. I just was offering you some coffee because you have a very long time to wait. I hope you survive."

I'm a little stunned at this, because when I told him I think it would be better if I stayed and waited I never even considered he was gay. So I kind of mutter a feeble "OK, well thanks man" and resume my door-bell ringing. Two minutes later, someone opens up.

The next morning I get up to go to the Vasa Museum, but as I am walking there I noticed that the streets were blocked off and people were crowded all over the place, waiting. I asked someone what the deal was and they told me.

How could I have forgotten so quickly? The gay pride parade. Always good for a laugh and can provide hours of entertainment. But I wouldn't have time for both. I would either have to watch the gay pride parade or go see the Vasa. Culture vs. Entertainment. After a half an hour of debating with myself, the Vasa won out.

The museum was great. In case you don't know the story of the Vasa, you can read about it here. It's better than reading me ramble on about it. It was tough to take good pictures because it's so big and you're so close, but I did manage to take a few.

I went out that night again with the Swiss guys and ended up watching the sun rise over Stockholm with a Swedish girl named Sandra. I didn't have time to enjoy the sunrise or her company for much longer though because my train left at ten. So I said goodbye to Sandra and to Stockholm and began my travelling marathon to Amsterdam a few hours later.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Køpenhavn

I arrived in Copenhagen that evening and met Erik Wasli, Eric's first cousin, at the platform. Luckily I had sent him a few pictures and I had done some research online, so we both vaguely knew what eachother looked like. They only lived a short bit from the train station, so it was pretty conveniant.

That evening we talked over coffee and tea, and I went to bed pretty early. Erik is a psychotherapist and he has an office down in the basement, complete with it's own bed.The next morning we all went out and saw the Copenhagen City Museum (which they had never been to). It was full of typical things Danes used throughout history ´(tools, plates, etc.) as well as the history of the city. It had quite a nice ballroom at the top, too. (Erik is waving)

Apparently Denmark has been having very poor weather for the last few weeks. Rain, rain and more rain. It was no different that day, so they let me borrow a rain jacket so I didn't walk around in a giant poncho looking like a fool the entire day. After the museum we climbed up the large tower that Christian IV (probably the most famous Dane ever) built. The passageway that winded up the tower was wide enough that he could ride his chariot up to the top. From the top of the tower, even though it was raining, you could get a pretty good view of Copenhagen. If you'll notice, there are not a lot of sky scrapers in Copenhagen. The city is mostly against them in order to preserve the uniqueness of the town. After all the sightseeing we got some lunch at one of Erik's favorite places to eat.

We wandered around the city for a little while and stopped at a few stores before deciding to head back. That night we had good dinner (pasta with feta cheese, olives and pesto) and settled in to watch "MASH".

The next day, it was raining quite a bit but it stopped and Kare, Bjarke and I went on a bike ride to the Open Air Museum - a museum consisting of several types of old Danish houses and exhibitions on how they lived. Surrounding the houses were nice fields and farms, so it seemed like you had traveled straight into the Danish country side. I couldn't resist the urge to join in on some old school Danish recreation.

After the bike ride we had some hot tea (it's pretty cold here) and hung around the house for the rest of the night. We had steak and potatoes for dinner and afterward watched "A Fist Full of Dynamite". As you can see, it was a pretty relaxed visit to Denmark.

The next morning we had some real Danish pastry (so I can tell you all how good it is when I get back) and I went and got my haircut...It was getting really bad. After that I went with Erik and Bjarke to visit Miriam (Arne's sister). She had tea, cookies, cake and sandwiches all laid out for us. We talked about my trip for some time before it was time to go meet Kare, Molly and her youngest child at Tivoli Gardens - Copenhagen's famous theme park right in the middle of town.

Kare bought Bjarke and I an unlimited ride pass, so we went on all of the rides there (well, most of them at least). After riding them, we went and got some Chinese food at the Chinese Tower and then relaxed outside at a tea house and listened to the live music (it was Greenland weekend at Tivoli, so it was all Greenlandish music...if that's even a word I don't know) until the park closed.

The next morning I caught a train to Stockholm after saying farewell and many thank yous to the Wasli family across the pond. Their hospitality made me feel right at home.

Sorry this post wasn't as entertaining as the last. Writing that last one took a lot of writing energy out of me. Maybe something extraordinary will happen in Stockholm.