Another day, another series of journal entries. This is Day 7 [though they were written on day 9 and 10], the second day on the bikes. In retrospect, this was one of my favorite days, both of the trip, and of my life. We drove through the mountains, and Maryrose and I cheated death once again. I’ve got pictures up for this day as well. Thanks much to Jay for helping set up http://europe.ronveenstra.com, a site I can feel safe directing my relatives and others who think I’m a decent person to.

Day 7

we just got back from visiting the giant cathedral in the city center (the baptistery and the duomo, I believe they’re called.) To call them impressive would be a horrible understatement. but hopefully I’ll get to that eventually.

When last I left off, we had fallen asleep in the 3 star Hotel. we woke up somewhat early the next morning, and had a free breakfast (we had kinda given up on the whole “there’s only two of us here” thing) After that, we loaded up the bikes, and got on our way again. Maryrose had all the major cities we were supposed to pass through written on her hand. including alternate routes depending on how far we decided to go during the day, and how well it was going. Mindy had the same list written on a piece of paper that Becky was holding on to (i think).

Okay, so we got going, and after we got out of that city (passing a few million hotels on the way, I might add.. it was really dark the night before. Man that sucked.) we started getting into smaller towns, and started into more mountainous roads. having successfully made it through that journey, I’ve got a different appreciating for the trip than I had during the experience, so I’ll describe both sensations:

during the trip

“This is insane, we’re going to die.” I occupied my mind with reporting to Maryrose every time we were going to get passed by a car or truck. She had mirrors, mind you, and I was probably annoying the hell out of her, but it was either do that, or focus on my fear of death. As the trip went on, the ride became a bit more stable, but there were still those moments when we would lose balance or control, and that ice cold chill that spreads from your stomach through the rest of your body, and makes your entire body tense up (and consequently crush Maryrose between your legs.) that made the trip unpleasant. Well that, plus the complete and utter certainty that if we were not currently lost, we soon would be…. that didn’t help either.

after the trip was done

“That was one of the most beautiful, exhilarating experiences of my life… a period of time I will hold with me until the day I die. It has become my new ‘happy place’.”

Anyway, the trip contines… no major problems. Maryrose and I were behind, and going slightly slower than Mindy and Becky, so much of the time was spent with just her and I and a wide open rode, and I’ll admit that the entire experience at that point was amazing. Shortly before we stopped for lunch, we passed by the Ferrari factory, and I scrambled to take a picture with Maryrose’s camera, nearly killing both of us in the process. Later that day, we were passed by a yellow Ferrari GTO, and I almost soiled myself right then and there.

[and aside: the vehicles in Italy are noticeably larger, on average, than the ones in Paris. I don't know if it's because the roads are larger (which they don't seem to be), or if things are just kinda cheaper here, so people can afford it, or if wealthier people live here. A combination of that stuff, I'd imagine But there have been a TON of Mercedes and BMWs (we saw a BMW pulling a trailer up the mountain. that's not something you see every day.) Then there was the Ferrari, the wicked looking Lotus we saw parked, and a handful of Porsches, and alpha Romeos. there have been quite a few SUVs here as well... There was only one in Paris, and it stuck out like a sore thumb.]

we stopped for lunch at the top of one of the hills, and ate at this pizza place. When we got the bill there was a charge for 4 “cuperrto”. we didn’t know what that was, so Maryrose went inside and asked the lady what it was. the lady said something like “1,2,3,4 person”. Maryrose must’ve said something about how we didn’t order that or something, anyway, the lady knocked the price of that down a few bucks, (prolly chopped in in half, about), and we called it good. we paid, and got going again. [Remember that cuperrto thing...]

The next hour or two was excellent. Before eating I had prayed my prayer, and mentioned that if God could keep us from dying on the next part of the trip on these bikes, I’d really appreciate it. I didn’t really feel a response at all, but assumed God was kewl with my idea. well, when we got going again, not 5 minutes from the restaurant we hit this straightaway that wasn’t blocked by trees at all, and you could see out across the mountains for miles, and you could see all the cities we had passed through, and all the cities we were headed towards, and the beauty of that scene was beyond description.. and I couldn’t help but feel like God was saying “dude, you’re biking through the hills of Europe, and you’re still complaining about stuff? Just shut up and enjoy it for a while.” yes, in my mind God says “dude” a good bit. So for the next couple of hours I was having a good time.. nix that.. I was having a spectacular time.. I took a number of videos as we zipped (and putted, the corners still proved a bit tricky) around the hills of Italy. We zoomed through breathtaking forests, and by scenic overlooks that put postcards to shame. that section of the trip [for some] made the motorbikes worthwhile… I can say having survived the process that that part of the trick was definitely worth it… and if that was the only experience I had with those bikes, they would have been the most worthwhile investment of the entire trip. I can’t really describe how amazing it was.. Just imagine a tourist video of the hills of Italy, with a helicopter flying around and over these small villages on the sides of mountains, then add to that the thrill of zipping around on small mountain roads with the cool air whizzing by you.. and that’s what you’ve got. Spectacular. Again I say, Spectacular.

So we get out of the mountains, and we’re headed towards these two towns [Abetone and Lucca] and every time Maryrose and I saw the signs for Lucca we [at first in our head, then later out loud] sang “my name is Luca”. On the mountains, around tight corners, there were these big round mirrors to help you see around the other side. I thought that was pretty clever. Mindy said they had them in the states too. I didn’t think that made them any less clever, but they seemed unimpressed. [Oh well... Becky seemed to appreciate it, anyway]

We were headed to Florence, and we got out of the mountain roads, and started hitting a bit busier areas of the road.. and then there was a split. By this time Mindy and Becky were a good ways ahead of us again, so we didn’t see them. Maryrose and I took the path to Florence, and it turned into a somewhat major highway, which neither of us wanted… [but which turned out to be the right way]… we didn’t see Becky or Mindy anywhere, so we pulled off, hoping to head back to the split, and take the other way.. at this point Maryrose informed me that she couldn’t drive and navigate at the same time, so I was going to have to tell her where to go… keep in mind I was not at all involved in the planning process [which didn't really exist, near as I can tell], and I had no idea where we were going. So I got her back to the exit we took.. and after that I was pretty much lost. She told me to look out for signs.. so I’d tell her what the signs said… that wasn’t what she wanted. .. She told me that we were headed to Florence.. but I never saw Florence on the map…

we’re currently in a car (a FIAT), driving to Rome. It ought to take us about 3 hours, the rental guy said.. We’ve gotten lost once since getting in the car, but it was very minor. I have faith in Maryrose’s ability to get us there without having to deal with the stress of the whole Motorbike situation.

When last I let off, Maryrose and I were lost, couldn’t find Mindy or Becky, and didn’t know exactly where we were going. We had planned on heading to the train station, in the hopes of meeting up with the other girls.. so after a few minutes. (somewhere between 5 and 30 minutes. the decision was somewhat fluid for a while, I think) Maryrose and I decided to just head to the train station and meet Becky and Mindy there.

Like I said before, Maryrose wanted me to tell her where to go, and I had no clue, and couldn’t find Florence on the street signs at all. well, after reading off another sign to her, I noted Fiorenze, and remembered that I’m pretty retarded, and that we were in Italy. So I put those pieces together, and realized that Fiorenze is Florence. So now that we both knew that, we got turned around, and ended up back on that highway-like road [the one that was the right road, but we thought was wrong.. that one]. we rode that for a little while.

Aside: They don’t censor the music on the radio here. we’re listening to some rap, and the f-bomb is flying frequently.

Okay, so we’re on this road, and there are signs for Fiorenze, and were following them, and all is good for a while. Now there were two road numbers associated with Florance, the A11, and something like ss337..

just got back from Burger King. it was really good.. They seem to love the mayo out here though.

Okay, so Maryrose and I are headed to Florence, and we’re following the signs, and all is going well, though the roads are still a bit too busy for our tastes (2 lanes going in both directions.. not horrible, but I was fan of the one lane each direction mountain roads we had had before. So eventually we get a sign that points to the right for Florence, and we take it, and BOOM, about 10-15 lanes across, with a giant Toll station.

We quick pull off to the side, and wrap around behind the service building (where all the toll workers park, I’d imagine.) We stop, share less than amused looks, and then ask this old man that happened to be standing back there a few questions:

“Do you speak English?”
[makes hand signal indicating either that he speaks a little bit of English, or that he has Parkinsons disease]
“Is there a way to Florence that is on a smaller road?”
“Is no problem, just take ticket, and go.” [points at the toll station]
“Are there smaller roads we can take?”
“Yes, ticket, then [makes hand signal for proceeding quickly forward, or that his hand is attempting to free itself from the rest of his arm.]. No problem.”
“Okay, thanks!”

As there was no way to get off of this thing without either taking the toll way, or riving the wrong way on a multi-lane highway, we knew what was coming.

We headed off, got the ticket in the booth, then gunned it. the speed limit varied between 80 and 100 kph, and we were averaging close to 80.. Traffic was averaging at least 120+, I’m assuming a lot more. I can’t think off words to describe it. If you could take that feeling and bottle it, extreme thrill seekers would get high off of it. Pure fear pushed aside by a flood of adrenaline. It was like I was watching myself in a movie, as our bike was zipping along, overburdened with weight, sitting [I'm not exaggerating] about 12 inches in front of a semi determined to teach us never again to visit Italy. I could have reached back and placed my hand on his grill. I quickly turned around, and said very calmly [I thought] “Okay.. we’ve got a truck behind us”. The truck then laid on his horn, zipped around us (still in the same lane as us.. we eased over to the shoulder a bit), and then cut us off rather tight. Trucks get the finger. We stayed on that tollway for about 20-25 minutes. After we got off, we just kinda sat there, thinking “well… there’s no reason at all why we’re not dead. So.. yeah…” God is good.

We pulled off onto this little parking lot, and a guy driving by looked over,so Maryrose asked “do you speak English?”

“yeah. hold on”.
he hopped out.
“Can you tell us how to get to the train station?”
“Oh.. you are very far away. You’ll need to head down this road [pointed to the road near us] for a ways, then you’ll hit this road [points to our map] then just head straight to the Fortezza, and from there, the station is right there [points to the station, circled in pen on our map. ] But you are very far, 2, maybe 3 kilometers.”

We somehow managed not to laugh when he said 2 or 3 kilometers was “very far” having just spent the past 2 days driving hundreds. We thanked him, and headed on our way.. smack into a traffic jam. We got stuck on the wrong side of a fork, and got forced onto what we first feared would be the expressway/tollway again. [it wasn't, though it was another highway.] But in a traffic jam, all the motorcycles and scooters just go forward, in between cars and trucks, on the shoulder, wherever they fit, so we’re moving forward as well, though not as daring as some of the locals, who were more skilled at such maneuvers or hated life a lot more than can even be measured. A few scary moments there as well as we’ve got cars on either side of us zipping along while we are trying to maneuver. Once again, Maryrose managed to make it through without any casualties.we got onto the highway [it was a smaller highway, but it was a highway] and it was a standstill. Following the other bikers, we made it over to the shoulder, then gunned it… We easily cut an hour or two of waiting out of that part of the trip by doing 60 down the shoulder. We then took the next exit, which had signs for the city center (“centriono” . We had made it into Florence by taking the Tollway) We continued following signs heading towards the center until construction pushed us off course.

We were stopped at a red light alongside a small truck, so I turned to the driver, and the windows was open, so I said “Scussi, Fortezza?” he pointed forward, [speaking Italian] then pointed to the right… then paused, then speaking more Italian, pointed at himself, and we figured he meant to just follow him, which was kewl. so we followed him, including a few weaves around other cars to stay up with him, which I was pretty impressed with. [Those of you keeping notes might also notice that by asking directions, and doing so again as soon as we got off course, we managed to continue to get closer to our destination, rather than farther away, or just circling it for long stretches of time. there's a lesson in there for some of you.] So we follow this guy, and after a number of turns and traffic circles, he pulls to the side (obviously at his stop, and points out the window as we pass to the left, and sure enough [see that Maryrose? "sure enough" try mocking me now...] there were signs for the Fortezza (a large structure right near the train station). I wave back and scream “Grazie!” as we we drive around it (it was kinda like a small enclosed city wall, with a park and a building inside it, I think), and I’m looking at the map (I’d had it in my hand since we got off the highway, when Maryrose told me to direct her again.), and after we made it around the side of the Fortezza, we hit more construction. Since we were somewhat near, we decided to just park (I was elated.. if you didn’t remember, I was not the biggest fan of the bikes.).

So we park, and just left our stuff on the bikes, and started walking. (Since I’m a complete and utter moron, I left my passport in my bag.) As we were walking, we saw parked a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l Lotus. We just kinda looked at it for a while. then headed onward. About a block later, not seeing the station, we asked again, [see, again with the asking... it's a good thing.] and a guy pointed us down one block… we headed that way, and there was the train station. Sweet. We walked over to it, and Maryrose told me to stay put at the entrance in case someone we knew (Mindy and Becky or the girls) showed up, and she’d go looking around.

so I sat in at the entrance to the train station for quite a while… people watching is fun. it’s also fun to try to create your own conversations for people who are speaking a foreign language near you. A little while later Maryrose reappeared.. left again, and soon reappeared with Mindy and Becky. They had taken back roads and made it to the station a little while before us.

We went to an Internet cafe, and Mindy and Maryrose checked their email to see if we’d heard from the girls, and Becky and I waited outside. Once they were done, Maryrose and I headed back to the bike, and our stuff was still there.. and there was much rejoicing. We hopped back on the bikes, and Maryrose told me to direct her back to the station. Crap. We managed to find it relatively soon.. but all the one way roads made it a bit more tricky than I had hoped. We followed Mindy and Becky, and eventually made it to the site where we’d be camping. We got our spot taken care of, brought the bikes down there… tipped them over a few times trying to set them on their kickstands, then finally got that all set up. Next was setting up the tent, which went just fine. We met a kindly old man camping right next to us from Holland. He spoke really good English, and explained that his wife likes 4 star hotels, and he likes camping, so every other year, they take separate vacations, and the opposite year, they vacation together. This year, he got to camp, an his wife was off somewhere else in fancy hotels. He seemed so friendly and almost cartoon-like in his appearance, that he didn’t seem real, and Maryrose and I seemed to find it funny whenever we saw him… [especially when he was sitting near us talking to the guy who was trying to score some pot].

So we got out tent set up, and our gear stowed, and headed off to a restaurant just down the street that gave s 10% discounts if we stayed at the camp. We got there, and the place seemed kinda fancy. Just beyond us, and still part of the restaurant I believe, was a fenced in soccer field where a bunch of guys were playing. that was kinda neat.

we ordered a bottle of wine, they all got big salads, I got a bowl of vegetable soup [it was amazingly good], then Mindy and Becky split a pizza, while Maryrose and I each had tortelli. It was quite filling. Afterwords, the 3 girls split 2 Tiramisu, and I had a coke. See, I don’t even like coke, but here, a cold coke is about equal to what I hope and pray sex is like. (And if sex isn’t as good as that coke, me and someone up there are going to have words…) We got the bill, and it had that cuperrto on it again.. so we asked what it was, and the guy said it was the service charge.. so essentially, it was the tip. So Maryrose had complained/talked the woman at lunch out of about half her tip. We found that funny. After that, it was late, and the wine was working its way through all of us [including Becky, who was becoming more corrupted by us every day], so we started to walk back. We took a roundabout way, and walked to this scenic overlook (our camp was at the top of this hill, next to this overlook that had a copy of a sculpture by Michaelangelo, I believe) So we looked out over Florence at night, and it was beautiful. After some time, we headed back, took showers (they have facilities at the camp site, thankfully) then headed to sleep. I’m not a huge fan of sleeping on the ground, mainly because I’d like to really enjoy sleep, and the ground is uncomfortable, and there wasn’t much room in the tent with 4 people and all our packs., and I couldn’t bend my right leg or left wrist… anyway, I didn’t sleep all that great, but I was just jazzed we wouldn’t be biking all day the next day.

Another day of journal entries. Some people have had trouble dealing with the length of the posts, so I’m trying to keep them smaller, but there haven’t been many natural places to break them recently. Anyway, these entries cover through the end of Day 6, the first day on the bikes. They were written after we had made it to Florence, so I suppose some of the “will they die or won’t they?” drama is taken away already. Oh well. When this was written we still had the bikes, and were (as far as I know) still intending to drive them to Rome, so the anti-bike sentiment is quite real, and quite pronounced throughout, I think. There are pictures as well. Anyway, enjoy:

Day 6

it’s Sunday, about 9:30 local time. We’re camping (like, real camping, with tents). I’ll try to catch up to where we are, but that’s quite a bit.

When last I had written, we had just gotten our bikes, gotten our stuff, and were on our way. In typical fashion, the route was not planned, and we drove around for a while. I was riving one of the bikes, and was being directed. Eventually we ended up on a highway, doing about 110-120 kph, which on a bike with 2 people and 80+ pounds of gear held on by bungee cord strapped to the back is insane. (insane –> No, not like “radical” or “sweet”. More like : What the hell do you think your doing!? You’re going to die and it’s your own damn fault.) So we finally get off the highway, and we still aren’t sure where we are, and I pull off onto this gravely driveway, try to slowdown, and we slide, then tip. and fall over. I get the bike up enough to get my leg out, which was pinned, but it takes a little more work to get Maryrose’s leg out. We’re but up a bit, and I’m pretty sure I messed up Maryrose’s ankle, but she won’t say anything about it. we also took a healthy gouge out of the driveway. I’m cursing the bike to the 4th or 5th circle of hell when Mindy and Becky show up (somehow they had chosen to take the same exit as us… which was fortuitous.) We get going again with Mindy now in the lead, and drive for a while and things are seeming to go okay… then the road is closed, we get off, and end up going in circles for quite some time. Eventually, Mindy has us pulling a U-turn on this country road, and i spill the bike again… That might have been when I fubarred my left wrist. I hated these bikes before, now I just want them to die. We continue on for a while, more driving in circles.. eventually she stops, and we decide to ask for directions. [This whole eventually we stop phrase will be repeated frequently. It means we drove around in circles for a long time for no reason, with frequent turnarounds, and the occasional pause to look at a map in a futile attempt to make it look like they knew where they were going. I can't tell you how much I don't enjoy things like that. some of you know of my trouble with getting lost on occasion in the past, and it's for that reason that whenever I'm going somewhere unfamiliar I make damn sure I know where I'm going, and how to get there. It just seems to make sense to me that if you're in a foreign country, you chart out where you're going before you leave, rather than having a rough guess of where you want to end up, then just taking off on your bike and expecting to not get lost instantly. I consider myself a patient man, but with each of these "I don't even know where we are" incidents, my desire to kill rose significantly.]

So we ask for directions, and eventually this one guy told us to just follow him for a while, which we did, and we got back on the road we wanted. Around now Maryrose started driving, and I started riding.. which I was fine with, cause I hated those damn bikes, and she didn’t seem to hate them as much. So we drive along this rode for a while, and much of the time we’d have cars showing up behind us, pausing for a second or two, then passing by us quickly, sometimes really near us. (like, a foot). the road we were on would go from farming/rural areas, then hit a town for a little while (stoplights, all that jazz) then back to farmland.

It was time or lunch, and we headed in to this restaurant, and a kindly old lady walked up to Maryrose and said “spreken zie deutch?”. “No.. espanol?”, Maryrose replied. “Si..si!” the old lady happily replied, and they started talking Spanish to each other. I’m not sure what all it was about, but I’d assume at least some of it had to do with how handsome I am. So we got some nice authentic Italian dishes (I had ravioli something something.. it was pretty good.)

Afterwards, Maryrose got some directions from the woman, and the rest of the restaurant staff, who all seemed excited to be able to communicate with her. so we got back on the road, which at this point was fairly highway like, and traffic jammed.

Two things: 1) I have to eat more fruit when I get back to the states, cause that nectarine I just had was pure heaven.

2) Two girls came up and saw this little keyboard PDA dealie, and thought it was “fucking rad”. The seemed like nice girls. I’ve got to find me a girl that’s impressed with technology, and I might have a shot at not dying a virgin.

Okay, so we do the highway thing for a while, and we hate it.. but eventually it calms down, and we’re doing fine. [My memory is getting a bit hazy, it was a few days ago.] We go for a while, then hit another town, and we either stopped to get gas, or stopped to figure out where we were going or something, but when we tried to turn right to get back on the main road, Maryrose and I spilled again. I quick pulled the bike up and got it to the side of the road, as oncoming traffic was approaching. A Kindly old man standing near by said in Italian something.. then made a cross with his hands, and pointed, and Maryrose figured out eh was saying something about a Red Cross being just down the street, but at the moment I was more concerned about the bike. After the first fall the alignment was a little bit off, but not too bad. The alignment was pretty far out of whack at this point. which isn’t good. If Maryrose’s ankle wasn’t messed up before, it was now, though I think she was trying to play it off like it wasn’t. As for me, I had a little scrape on my knee, and pretty nice rip just above my ankle, and it felt like my ankle was sprained. I’ve messed up my ankle enough times playing basketball to know that this one wasn’t too bad, but it was going to hurt like hell for a few days. The rip above my ankle hurt a lot more than I expected it too, though. Not sure if it was because of the sunburn, or because at that point of my leg it’s pretty much just bone. I dunno. Anyway. I didn’t care much about going to the Red Cross.. so we got back on the bike, and I prayed that it was undriveable so we could just get a hotel room get rid of the damn bikes, and bus/train to Florence, then Rome. Not such luck. The bike shook pretty violently at lower speeds, but once we got it up past forty it settled down a bit.. but the alignment was really really off. we continued on our way…

it was getting towards evening, and there was no way in hell I was going to be on these bikes when it was dark out [I said to myself... casually disregarding the fact that I said there was no way in hell I'd ride a motorcycle in the first place] So we decide to look for a camp site. We hit the town that supposedly had one, and after driving around we eventually ask someone for directions. A guy on a motorbike tells us to follow him, and we go zipping around the city for a while, and sure enough, we end up at a camp site. [Little signs with pictures of tents and everything.] We find the guy in charge [ or he at least works there], and they talk to him, and find out that we can not, in fact, set up tents there.. it’s one of those No tent campsites. So the signs with the pictures of tents was just to trick gullible Americans I guess. Italy gets the finger. So he brings us to a large map, and points to a place further down that main road we were on, and says there’s a camp site there. So we get back on the road, and head out. I hate those damn bikes

We rode for another 20-30 minutes, and made it to the town that had the camp site just as the sun was setting. We proceed to drive around the town…. and drive around the town…. and drive around the town…. and drive around the town… Finally Maryrose tells Mindy that we need to pull over and ask for directions. Mindy nods, and drives around the town. It’s now dark out, and neither one of th bikes has working lights. We continue to drive around the town.

So we’re driving around the town, and Maryrose says [again] “we need to stop and ask someone” So we do eventually stop, and the guy has no idea where a camp site is, so we they ask about a Hotel, and he gives directions for that. we head off, and drive around the town…. and drive around the town At this point Maryrose is holding down the “passing [bright?] lights, which do seem to work. And I’m glad, cause it’s dark out, and we’re going to die. We drove around that town for a LONG time before finally reaching (purely by accident, I’m forced to believe) a 3 star Hotel “Air One”. We stop, and Maryrose and I hop in, get a room, park our bike, then head on in, with Mindy and Becky meeting us in the elevator (where were then went to every wrong floor before hitting out own.) We got into our room, and behold it was very good. We all took showers, Maryrose put some first ate stuff on my wounds [we had conveniently stopped to figure out where we were going right next to a pharmacy once, so Maryrose hopped in and bought some stuff.] I ate a half a million almonds, then wrote for a while, and then tried to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes it felt like I was still on the bike, and it sucked. I did not sleep well.

I think we’re going to head out to see more of Florence now, but I’m only about two days behind now. Hopefully I’ll catch up more this evening. Oh yeah, you’re allowed to just walk around drinking alcohol everywhere here. It’s kinda neat.

Another series of journal entries. We run into some problems where a lot happens in a couple of days, and I have no chance to write for a while, then when I do, it includes information from a stretch of days. So I’m trying to keep the journals somewhat synced to the pictures I’m able to put up. The pictures are up to day 5, now, I believe, and the journals are up to the end of day 5 as well, though they describe the events up to the middle of day 5. The journal entries while on the train are a bit more random, as well, as I was talking with Jacqui, Trish, and Maryrose, and the conversations just got weirder and weirder. Good stuff.

Days 4 and 5

I’m now on the train to Marseilles. we haven’t left yet, so we’re still in Lyon.

back to what i was talking about.before. the 7 of us were set to leave the airport, I believe.

the idea was to hop on the eurail right form the airport, and go straight to Milan from there.. but that wasn’t going to happen. I don’t know if it was because of the strike, or if the eurail just didn’t go there. either way, after some time spent figuring out what we were supposed to be doing, we hopped on the RER, and it slowly filled up to beyond capacity, until it resembled those scenes you may have scene of subway cars in Japan, where they’ve got people with ramrods shoving people inside the doors just far enough for it to close, and no one can breath at all. It was wretched. We made it to north station, and from there we headed off to some other place, and from there we got the eurail information taken care of, and from there we headed of to Lyon, where the trains all just stopped. And that’s where we waited.

I already told you about missing the two trains we could have taken… and then we waited until 15:45, when the next Marseilles train was to come. at 14:30ish Maryrose, Mindy and I went looking for an Internet cafe. I wasn’t that optimistic. We walked around for a little while, with nothing.. then i was elected question guy, and we found a “news Cafe” So I went in and asked the guy “parle vous engles?” “eh…” [he made the "kind of" sign by tilting his outstretched hand left and right a bit]. “Internet? Internet Cafe?” “Internet? Oh, Internet.. wi” [he points to a well dressed man (shirt and tie), and we walk over to him. ] they speak French rapidly to each other.. I recognize a few words, including “internet”. then the well dressed man turns to me and says “centre of town”. I ask “long? [make the "i caught a fish this big" sign] “or short?” [make the"your fish was really only this big" sign]. they talk rapidly in French again, and then they both tell me “5 kilometers”. they continue talking a bit, then turn to me, and repeat “5 kilometers”. “Merci beaucoup” I said, and we left.. as we didn’t have the time or energy to go 5 kilometers there and 5 kilometers back. So we continued walking, back towards the Irish pub where everyone else was waiting, and watching over our packs. around that block we see a giant sign saying “@internet@”. We decide to check it out. (I wasn’t sure if it was an ISP or what) we peek in, and there are about 15 high school aged French speaking Asian kids playing counterstrike. We walk a bit further in, and a guy greets us, and Maryrose and Mindy follow him, and get set on a computer, while I stayed back a bit wen the kid next to me got killed, I turned to him and said “pardon.. Counterstrike?” He looked oddly at me. Again I said “Counterstrike?” he and the kid next to him smiled really big “yea!” I smiled back, and nodded in that “yes , i correctly identified a video game, and in so doing, helped heal the woulds our two peoples have inflicted upon each other..” kind of way. Mindy checked her email, but the guy from the Milan Motor scooter place hadn’t emailed her back, which was unfortunate. Maryrose started checking her stuff, and mentioned that I ought to just get another computer, cause she was going to take a while. So i got another computer (they’re running a restricted Windows 2000, with their own funky frontend that limits you to Internet, and a few other functions… When you try doing a telnet:// in the URL, the computer itself beeps loudly and rapidly, and it fails on you. damnit. So I tried mail2web, and it failed every time. Oh yeah, and their keyboards are different. it’s not a qwerty, and it’s not a zwerty.. it’s got a’s for q’s, m’s for l’s and all sorts of other crazy things (two types of shifts, and you have to hold shift to get the numbers )So i couldn’t check my email, which is bad, cause my aunt Nancy was going to let me know via email if I had a ride home from the airport or not.

Well, odds are we’ll get the whole ride home from the airport thing figured out by the time I’m headed home. There’s the off chance that that motor scooter guy emailed me, as i was the one who sent him the payment information… that would be useful.. I also just don’t like not knowing if there’s something important I’m forgetting, or don’t yet know about. Oh well. We have no idea how long this train ride is, but everyone else is sleeping [besides Becky, who is playing gameboy] , and I think I should too. the couple sitting next to me is listening (together, one earphone a piece) to an archos Jukebox. Looks to be an older version, perhaps it’s the one with the memory card readers in it… I am going to get some sleep, as I’m still exhausted

We’re finally going now, after about a days worth of waiting.. here’s what’s happened:

we got off the train in Marseilles and the next train didn’t exist. France gets the finger. So we debated whether to take the bus to Nice, or stick around Marseilles for the night, and head off to Nice on the train.

okay a guy just hopped on to the train, and then he whipped out his guitar, and sang an “interesting” version of Elvis’ Love me tender, then moved over closer to us and sang Abba’s Dancing Queen, and now he’s ripping through Suzanne Vega’s Luca. it’s … it’s hard not to laugh my ass off at this point. We sang along to Dancing Queen, but I get the feeling if we continued to, he’d demand we pay him.

Yeah, we just paid him. Direct Quote: That was Suzanne Vega, a song called Luca. thank you very much.

back to the story. We decided to stay in Marseilles, which was good. we walked around, looking for hostels, or hotels the first 2 or 3 were full, but then we found this kinda nice (read: still really shady , but the old guy at the doorway was nice.)

I have “big carrot fingers”

The girls are afraid I’m transcribing their conversation, and of course I am.

So this guitar player (not the one that played Luca, the one that tried to lay Love me tender [turns out it was a different guy] and just tried to play Hotel California) yeah, he sucks.

So I’m sitting with Maryrose, Sara and Jacqui, and we’ve just talked about baby carrot fingers, flabby arms, Sweetest Thing, pet Peeves.

“oh so le Mio” < - ? yeah, I think he sucks... and he's getting louder.

so the old guy at the hotel seemed nice, and eventually we found out that he spoke Spanish so Maryrose talked to him quite well

My new nickname is “round”. I might explain that at some point.

So we got a hotel room.. (2, rooms.. 20 euros a head. not bad, I guess.. I’ve lost track of what is expensive and what is cheap) , then headed off to the city.. some of us headed into town while Mindy and Becky went to try to phone the guy in Milan about the motor scooters… I don’t think they got through at all. So we walked around town, saw a pretty kewl church, then I think we just headed back.to the hotel (Mindy, Becky and I picked up some pizza on the way, and it was really good). Headed back to the hotel, took showers, and tried to sleep. We had the windows open cause it was hot, and there was a lot of noise on the streets below [inebriated chatter] and it made sleeping difficult for some. But not I. I’ve slept amazingly well on this entire trip.

we woke up at 5:30, got ready, packed up, headed to the train station, and the train was delayed 30 minutes. So we sat and waited for about an hour, then it showed up. And we were off to Nice.

the trip: “it’s gooood”

So now we’re on the train to Tailon(?). We arrived just too late for the train to Milan. France gets the finger.

“Cry like a school girl”. < -- You'll note that I've been inserting random phrases into this thinger, just random phrases that I hear in the conversations we're having... I'm trying to do 2 things at once. We just met up with this guy, John, and he's riding with us now.

So we got to Nice, and the ride their was excellent.. Lots of incredible views , and once we got around the Mediterranean Sea , it was just incredible. We arrive in Nice. and it’s nice. But the train to Italy (there actually was a train to Italy, and there was much rejoicing ) wasn’t leaving until 3:57. It was currently around 10:30 or so. So we decided to try the beach As we were heading out, we ran across this guy, David, that had been asking us about the train to Italy. he was from Atlanta. We invited him to come have lunch with us at a pizzeria, so he joined us. he’s a mech. engineer doing cad work down in Atlanta, and just up and decided to do a big ole tour of Europe by himself, saved up for a year, and here he is.

At the pizzeria, Sara meant to order an “appetizer”, but ordered an “aperitif”(?) which is a Greek pre dinner drink. it was funny.

we’re speeding by mountains now. It’s AMAZING.

So we finished at the pizzeria and headed off to the beach, with David and Mindy in the lead. I remain in the back whenever we walk out in a group. I’m especially keeping an eye on Becky, but I figure if someone is going to get pick-pocketed, it ought to be me. So we headed on.. and made it to the beach, and it was excellent. A perfect day, it was sunny and blue, and there was a spot right there on the beach for us, so we headed down and just crashed. Some people headed on in to the sea, and I just kinda fell asleep. I took a few pictures of the skyline,a nd then realized that a healthy chunk of the locals at this beach were going topless. I put my camera away.

So here’s the thing with breasts: not all of them are pretty.. some are really nasty. REALLY nasty. 80 year old over-weight French women should not be on the beach in a small bikini and no top. Nor should 20+ of her friends. Others were far less objectionable. Viva le France! But seriously, you know that whole “too much chocolate is a bad thing” The same goes for breasts or me, I guess. Oh well. I guess breasts are more lovely when you know the owner, and earned the right to view them. And that’s all I have to say about that.

We stuck around the beach for a few hours. I touched the Sea, and that made me feel like a good person. I got burned to shit, and that made me feel like a stupid person. We left at 2:30, and headed to the Internet Cafe. I finally was able to telnet and ssh. (thank you Calvin, for still allowing me access. I’ve got to find a new telnet box.) My weblog table got hosed a bit, as the auto-increment goes to the max number now, so I’ll have to fix that . So I will have to fix that when I get home, but for now, I’m not able to quick add new posts, so I’m just leaving comments.

we’re traveling through long long tunnels now. Backlights are excellent. There aren’t any lights on this train, so I’m a little worried about things getting stolen.

So yeah, we were at the internet cafe and the time was getting tight, so David left us to get to the train station..which makes sense considering our luck with trains in the last couple of days. Finally, we left (I’ve been buying a LOT of Cokes recently.. and the cokes here taste a lot different than the ones at home. I hate coke back home, and I don’t really hate the stuff out here.. there’s a weird almost fruity aftertaste to it. But it’s not that good. I’ just worried that. eventually I’m going to start liking this coke, then I’ll get back to the states and never be able to get it again…. though vanilla coke does sound really goof, as does beer. Mmmmm beer. The beer I had at that Le Royale was excellent,a nd I want more of that…. Today is Tuesday, and I’m missing the Pickwick. drink a pitcher for me, guys, and know I at least thought about ya for a few seconds.

So we get back to the station, and the train was delayed 20 minutes, but eventually showed up.. on a different line… we got on.. (and that’s when I wrote the last entry)

these tunnels are seriously long… we’re talking pitch black here.. and they last for a good 3 or 4 minutes.. pitch black… So Maryrose and I switched seats in the last one, and kinda freaked Becky and John out.

Okay, so after the last train, we ran to our next train (Milan) and it had left already, cause our train was hella late France gets the finger. So we said our goodbyes to Jacqui, Sara, and Trish (they’re headed straight to Florence, where we’re hoping we’ll meet up with them), and David who’s headed to the coast, I believe (we got his email address) and found a train to tourino, which gets us on our way, and ought to have trains to Milan (one leaving every hour or 2 hours, I believe) When we missed out Milan train, we met up with this guy, John, I believe. he had missed the train as well, so we all got ready for the train to tourino together. Now we’re all sitting in this train together (seats of 6, 3 facing forwards, 3 back) enjoying the views.

We just passed Carmegnola.. We’ve been showing off card tricks (Becky, Mindy, Maryrose, and me, and John is here as well.) and trying to amuse this young [French speaking Indian(?)] girl. Now we’re talking about movies.. Thank God for Billy Madison and Monty Python.

We’re on the train to Milan now. w00t. It’s Maryrose, Mindy, Becky, John, and myself. it’s about 10:00pm.. and my legs, face, and chest are burned. My legs looked horribly retarded. The Italian guy is checking our tickets right now.. hold on. I don’t know why, but a pang of fear still crossed through me when they check, like he’s going to say “no” and kick me off the train… and yes, that’d suck a helluva lot.

Anyway, I’m burned, and in a retarded fashion, so I’m in a lot of pain, which sucks, but oh well.

the things I currently miss;

1.) Knowing where I’m going to stay the night. I’m not super keen on the “playing it by ear everyday” type thing. I’m not horribly against it or anything, I mean, i can handle it and all. But there’s always that twinge in the back of my head that says something like “hey… you might end up wandering the streets tonight, big guy”. And I don’t like that. If you know me, you know my love of routine. I’ve put forth a lot of effort to create a series of things i can count on each day, each week, each year, etc. And i love that. That’s how I end p with Pickwick Tuesdays, and Max and Ermas Thursdays (and Tuesdays, and Saturdays, and Fridays, and occasional Mondays, and a Sunday here or there) Golf Tuesdays Softball Wednesdays, Mulligans Fridays.. I love those things, cause i can count on them to be there each and every week. Here all I can count on is there will be a lot of walking and heavy lifting going on.. otherwise, nobody knows. that’s exciting, and i love it about this trip.. But it’s lovely and exciting only because I know it’ll only last 2 weeks. If and when I plan my own trip abroad (as I’ve mentioned many times, I did none of the planning or leading on this dealie.) it’ll have a bit more structure to it.

Becky and I exchange furtive giggly smiles as Mindy talks to this John guy. I dare say she’s got a little crush on him, and we being the supportive family members that we are, wait til she looks away, then giggle like school girls. Makes me wonder if they do the same thing when ever I talk to … well, pretty much any of the other girls on the trip. Who knows. I’d like o think my rap is a it less blatantly obvious, but I may be wrong (“Hi! I like your smile! Please for the love of god have sex with me!”)

what I miss continued

2.) Access to certain things at all times: examples: Water, food, a nice bathroom with shower, working toilet, and razor. I’m going to look like Grizzly Adams by the end of this trip. and while I’m kind of curious what I’m going to look like with a big scraggly beard, I’m also aware that I don’t enjoy looking like complete shit. So it’s a conflict there. Water should be readily available, and bathrooms should charge you money.. That’s just cruel. Oh, and my hair looks like hell, and I hate it when my hair looks like hell. On the 2nd day, I decided that I was going to have to be okay with looking like hell until I got home to my townhome on Sunday the 22nd, and from that point on, looking this was has been okay 3.) internet/phone You can put this all under connectivity. I guess a part of this trip was supposed to help ween me away from using the computer so much, and especially relying on the internet for everything.. but.. the internet’s really nice.. it gives you information right away and all you need to do is ask. Nt knowing what’s going on, and not being able to instantly access my friends bothers me And as for the phone. I miss talking to certain people, and would sure like to be able to talk to them now, when there are actually interesting things to talk about. [" so I saw about 100 breasts today.. How you doin'?"] I also don’t have a watch, as I’ve used my phone as my clock for so long.. that annoys me as well. _

we’ve got almost all the windows open in here (we’re the only ones in this car i believe) and when we pass another train, it feels like (and sounds like) we’re in a hurricane. It scared the hell out of me every single time. I was daydreaming a little while ago, and I daydreamed we were going up (like, straight up) a mountain, and I felt the train moving (in real life) and just freaked out I think I’m hungry and tired, and my mind is starting to lose what little grasp it had on reality.

So I talked about how France was Fing expensive, right? Well, goo news, Italy appears to be a lot cheaper. Slices of pizza (imagine a 18 in pizza cut into 4ths, and that’s a slice) were 2.80 Euros which is excellent, I think. (again, comparison to France.)

woah.

for the last 20 minutes or so, I was convinced I was facing backwards (it’s pitch black out, there are very, very few lights, and the lights inside the train make the windows act more as mirrors (that’s right, this train has working lights. Amazing). Anyway, we just puled up to a station, and I’m facing forwards and I almost threw up when I realized it .

There’s a lot of weird insects on this train.

What else do I miss? my friends, obviously. The people I’m with are kewl, but I’d certainly like to talk to other people for a while… It’s the everyday conversations.. like the ride to work (the ride back from work more appropriately.. I sleep most rides TO work) with Joel and Dave. The IM’s with Adam and Tuuk and Alan. The phone conversations with Deedre and Kristin, hanging out with Robb and Swac and Sven. That’s what I miss right now. the Pickwick/ Mulligans crew. Even if I’m just sitting there not speaking, it’s a kewl feeling to just “fit in” for a while. I think I’ve done a fair job ingratiating myself into this estrogen society I’m traveling with, but I’ll still kinda be “the one with the penis” I guess. It has it’s advantages and disadvantages.

I’m placing an awful lot of faith in this PDA, and thus far it hasn’t let me down. But if it does, you’d better believe I’m going to beat it loud with a hickory stick.

What else do I miss? Being in a place that speaks my language. It was a sad realization to see that I was what I dared judge down others for. I have this feeling in the back of my head like “if you’re coming to America you’d better know enough of the language to get around”… well it’s more like “if you’re going to live in Michigan, and work at a restaurant, you should be able to speak english… so I guess that’s slightly different. W00t, I’m not [that big of a] hypocrite. I miss my big comfy bed, my well cared for bathroom (I swear, Robb and Swac, that if that thing is messy when I get back I’m killing you. No questions asked, just ending you, right then and there), my guitars, my computer.. and MUSIC. Sigh… Hearing that guy sing Luca, then hearing Jacqui mention she had some Counting Crows cds made me realize how much I miss it. That’s enough of what i miss. (Oh, I miss cash too.. I’m always running out of Euros. and that sucks)

What do I like?

Everything feels important. Like visiting a train station at a town has this importance like “this is a town in Europe, I should look around and see what it has.” The architectural style is different, and therefore worth paying attention to. the food is different, the way people act and walk, and talk… everything is different, and therefore worth paying attention to.

The weather is gorgeous. It really is.

the experiences themselves.. Just going from town to town with these girls, and the little things that we now share.. like Maryrose’s “French Bread”, or finding her sunglasses in her bag of almonds, or speaking pig latin on the metro, Sara ordering Booze instead of an appetizer, my giant beer that cost me $15. The guy and girl on top of the Eiffel tower that thought Maryrose and I were going to platform jump off of it (we had the packs on, and I guess they looked like parachute bags.), card tricks on the train. Or that rousing rendition of “love me tender”

You know that scene in Saving Private Ryan where the German guy is digging the grave, and they’re ready to shoot him, and he goes off singing “Oh say, can you see? I say can you see?…” [obviously not knowing the words to the Star Spangled banner] That’s kinda what “love me tender” was like. his versions of Tears in Heaven and Hotel California where all about a minute long, and featured nothing but sloppy guitar strumming and whistling. All things considered, the guy that sang Dancing Queen and Luca was quite good, in comparison.

I don’t think we have any clue where we’re staying in Milan. so this evening will probably be an adventure as well. I kinda wonder if this John dude is going to hang with us this evening. I have a feeling if Mindy gets her way he will. Every station we pull up to we frantically check to see if it’s Milan.. I’m always hoping it’s not, cause I’d like a chance to sit and relax for a while, and psyche myself up for carrying the back on burned shoulders and walking on legs that are breathing fire. what would be ideal is if this train made it to Milan in about an hour… and we found a hostel right away with room to spare, and it had a shower in the room.. and we could all take showers (and it didn’t hurt like hell), and slept in til about 11 tomorrow, then walked to the Motor scooter place, and they had bikes for us to use [we reserved them, and got confirmation, but I trust no one], and our packs fit on them no problem, and we headed off, and all was well. I do believe I’ll wear a new shirt tomorrow (I’m wearing the same shirt as Saturday and Sunday, as it was the coolest (i mean that in a temperature kinda way, though considering the other shitty shirts I have along, the other meaning may also apply. I will say that these shorts were a quality investment. They shall forever be known as my “Europe Shorts” as I bought them solely for Europe, but now intend to wear them often (I don’t wear shorts, because i don’t have what the ladies typically consider “attractive legs”, and at this point, any negative quality must be a closely guarded secret until I trick a girl into marrying me. My honeymoon will be a shocking disappointment to my wife in oh so many ways. [Thankfully, the sex will more than make up for it all. Hiyo, didn't expect that one, did ya? Okay, yeah, you all prolly did.]

This Fanta is excellent. It’s like a hyper version of Sunkist Orange, and there’s a liter and a half of it. I do believe it will become my new water bottle once the Fanta is gone. I need a shower so bad. and my arms are already rubbed raw and bruised.

Man, I’m having a great time. The ironic thing: I’m eating way better than I do at home (at least more often, and I’m finishing all my meals [except the giant pizza, but the grease was making me a bit sick, and it was really big] I really want a Loredo steak with baked potato (just butter) and thousand Island on the salad, with a dr. pepper and I’ll take that Sundae bar as well. (if Joel was there, we’d prolly get cookies as well), I’m getting a lot more sleep than i usually did (though i did lose a day there somewhere, but I skipped a day back home too, so I guess that does’t matter too much) I’m getting plenty of exercise, and I don’t recall stressing about work, my life, or my love life back home at all this whole trip. that’s just plain impressive. Bravo, Europe.

We should make it to Milan soon.. It’s about 11:30 now, and i can say with a fair amount of certainty that we’re all tired. [They're all sleeping.]. I’m going to call this good, and try to relax for a while, and psyche myself up for the inevitable trek once we get to Milan. [I don't think I'll ever purposefully grow a full beard when I have the opportunity to shave it.. it's just too annoying and nasty feeling. the goat I could handle, this has too much throat/cheek action going on. It just makes me feel even dirtier than I already am.]

it also sucks that now that I was getting decent at some French (and my accent was fairly good, i think), we’ve left France.

I’m sitting on this big old bed in a 3 star hotel, and my leg is bleeding in 8 places.. (only 3 of them are still bleeding at this point, but I just took a shower and washed them out, and the words I wanted to scream out are not appropriate for such a fine establishment. Oh yeah, nd I washed them out in the bidet. How did we get here? well I’ll tell you. [He's going to tell.. he's going to tell..]

I left off when we arrived in Milan. we hopped off the train (the train station there is amazing), we made it about 100 feet out of the train station. (just far enough to note that there were shady people around) and they stopped and started looking through maps and books. Becky and I hung back, and noted how the lats few hours on a well lit/ not surrounded by shady people train might have been a better time to do that kinda thing, but oh well. we started walking,a nd there were a lot of nice hotels around. and “nice” was the problem, as they were 3 and 4 star places, and therefor too rich for our blood.. We walked about a block 2 blocks from the station, and stopped again, and Becky turned to me and said:” I’m just going to wait here, cause we’re going to end up here again.” I laughed and nodded.. and we continued on our way.

An Aside: I like Italian TV. They use scantily clad women to sell everything… therefore EVERY commercial has at least one hotty featured prominently. The Bicardi Breezer and Citroen car commercial thus far were my favorite… they just showed a Nestea commercial where the guy brings this girl a nestea, and she slams it, then jumps his bones. [we're watching Shanghi Noon in Italian] Aside over.

So we continue walking around,and after another failed hotel, they check the books again, and see that there’s a 1 star hotel nearby, so they head towards it.. You guessed it, right back towards where Becky said she’d stay. We shared slightly amused but slightly pissed off looks. We got in the hotel, and this kindly old Italian woman sitting there looks at me, smiles, then looks at my legs (you’ll recall they were burned badly, and in a weird patter) She looks at me and says “that…[points at my leg].. sand? I assumed she either meant “beach”, “sun”, “burned” o something in Italian. either way, I smiled and nodded and said “Hot” and did the whole fanning my face with my hand thing to help it make sense. she laughed and nodded vigorously, and in so doing, I helped mend the wounds that have hindered the relationship of the Italian and American people. I have to say though, that there is a really palpable joy in being able to communicate with someone else.. Since it’s so commonplace in daily life, I know we take it for granted… But even then, when you’re talking to someone and they say something that matches the way you feel, you feel that giddy joy, am i right? I’ve had it a few times on this trip.. In the internet cafe where they were playing Counterstrike, In that italian Hotel, in the French restaurant where I got my big beer… then there was the restaurant earlier today where Maryrose was speaking Spanish with pretty much the entire wait staff, but especially this one nice older woman. .. I’ll get to that. My wrist is injured, but I don’t feel like mentioning it, cause it’ll sound like I’m whining, but seriously, I can’t bend it. I hope it’s better in the morning, cause it feels broken. okay, maybe not broken, but certainly fuX0r3d, Okay, so we got the hotel rooms finally. a single for John, then one for me ad Becky, and one for Mindy and Maryrose. we said goodbye to John, as we were planning on sleeping in and he wasn’t.. he turned out to be a pretty kewl guy too. there was a sink just sitting there a few feet from my bed.. the shower was a number of rooms over.. so we took showers, then got ready to sleep. It was HOT, and muggy, which we were told later was not normal. So we had to have the window open and the night life going on below was loud.. I think it as another bar. I didn’t sleep very well. too hot, too tired, too loud. I’m not sure

another commercial just told me that If I fall down while rollerblading, and use this special ind of disinfectant, I’ll have sex with a really hot blond chick. excellent.

So we woke up around 10:30 this morning , and walked around until we found the place where we were supposed to rent motor scooters. This was the part I was a bit worried about, because I didn’t know how the hell we were going to fit our packs on a mini motor scooter.. well we got there and got it all set up, and he showed us the bikes, and they were big… and heavy.. but there still didn’t appear to be room or our bags.. they had little storage compartments, but not nearly large enough to fit one pack, let alone two.

Okay, he gave us our scooters, which from this point on I’ll call bikes, cause these things weigh a ton, and can go up to 160 KPH, and that’s *insane*

So we were going to go to this store a few blocks over to get some bungee cords to try to tie in our bags.. [we left them in the "Happy Rental" place] So I hope on, and try to get the things started, and say “where’s the gas?” “twist the handle back” Mindy said. So i did. and plowed directly into the car parked in front. I swore a lot. The guy comes out. Looks at the bike, and then looks at the car. He points at the bike “is okay” points at the car “is not okay” then wipes some smudges off the bumper, where I hit (there wasn’t any noticeable damage, but there was some black marks where the tire hit.) he turned to me and said “is okay, is my car, is fine, I clean it up.” “are you sure?” i said. “yeah, it’s fine.” So we turned the bike around and headed off to the store. I already hated these bikes.. and I mean HATE. I hate motorcycles and would never ride or drive on, and these things are pretty much motorcycles. I’m not pleased. [I had wanted to bike, as in pedal bike) this thing... after that fell through, taking the train seemed to make more sense. Anyway, too late now. we make it to the store.. it was an adventure and I still hate the bikes. we make it to the store, and by some bungee cords, then go back to the train station, to get some tourist information (get maps, and figure out how to get from Milan to Florence.. again, something that could have been done earlier, I thought.. whatever.) Then they swung in to this internet cafe inside the station to email the other girls the guy from the rental shop said he'd be leaving at 1:30, it was now 1:05, and we were finally leaving. So we head off, get our bikes [which I hate] and head to the rental place, and it’s locked. and empty. Not pleased. With nothing left to do, we just sat and waited…and sure enough. he showed up a few minutes later.. and he opened the doors, we got the stuff on there, and headed off on our way only we had no idea where to go. the lights have just turned off, and we’re going to sleep now.. so I’ll continue this some other day.. assuming I’m not killed. yeah. we crashed a few times.. I hate those damn bikes.

[Update : Pictures from day 3 have been added. Day 4 soon to come.]

So I’m falling behind already… There’s just too much to do in a day, and my body is still trying to adjust to going from 8 hours of sleep a night back down to 3 or 4. It’ll take a little time. Anyway, the pictures for the next few days should be up by the end of the day… but since I’ve got the journals just sitting here, I figured I’d quick add one for the next two days. We meet up with Jacqui and Maryrose, then tour parts of Paris again (the Louvre and head up the Eiffel Tower). The next day we meet up with Sara and Trish, then start train adventure towards Italy. Let me know if you notice parts that make no sense or where words are obviously wrong/mispelled/missing, so I can fix it up a bit. So yeah. Here is is:

Day 3 and 4

We are currently in the airport, waiting for Maryrose, who will arrive around 1pm. it’s about 11:00 am right now. Getting to this point was an adventure.

Woke at 7:30, and we were out the door around 8, if not slightly before. We walked to the North station (saw the McDonalds that eluded us last night), walked right in again (tickets are for suckers), and after a little while, found where our train was. Only it didn’t appear to have anyone on it… After a little while we heard the overhead announcer lady mention that the train to the airport was loading at an upstairs gate (32, I think). So we rushed out and ran up, and made it to that train instead. Apparently the train people are on strike or something, and it’s got some of us a bit nervous (as we’re pretty much stuck here without a train). Also, we’re supposed to take the eurail to Italy, an d if that doesn’t happen we’re in trouble. (I’ve heard rumors of hitchhiking, which sounds sketchy) Anyway, we finally made it to the airport, and it turns out that they hadn’t set a meeting point, she wasn’t sure which terminal, let alone gate, she was arriving at, and wasn’t exactly sure she’ remember what she looked like… Not kewl. So we took the first stop at the airport, and started walking. (remember, we’ve got all our shit strapped to our backs) After about 20 minutes in one terminal, we hop in a shuttle bus, and go to the second terminal.. we check that for 20 minutes, end up in the train station, still no sign of her. We grab another shuttle bus to the 3rd terminal (technically, terminal 2, we went 1-3-2), then looked around, took a shuttle bus to a different section of that same terminal (this terminal was huge, with different sections laid out all over the place, much of it not interconnected. We arrive at section A of terminal 2, I believe, and while walking Mindy shows the signs of seeing someone she knows, and there was much rejoicing. The 4 of us then headed to McDonalds in the airport. I had le Big Mac.. and I took a picture of the menu, to prove stupid trivial pursuit wrong, and Pulp fiction right. the question in trivial Pursuit is “what is a Big Mac called in France” I answered “le Big Mac”. The answer on the card “Royale”. I reply “no, that’s a quarter pounder.” “That’s not what the card says.” “look, a big macs a big mac, but they call it ‘le Big mac’. A quarter pounder is a Royale, cause they don’t know what the f^(!< a Quarter pounder is, cause they're on the metric system." "It was the Moops."

After lunch, we decide to just stick around for Maryrose who arrives at 1:05, so we walk around for a while, then find out where she’s landing (an inspired idea, the whole “asking someone else who would actually know”, then hopped on another shuttle bus, and ended up here, at Terminal 1. Now we’re sitting in a small cafe like place, filled with smoke, and waiting. Mindy’s playing Wario warez Inc, Becky was writing in her journal, and is now staring off into space, and I’m writing here. Now I’m either going to nap, or play cards.

Okay, it’s Tuesday, and we’re on the train. Hopefully it’s the right train.. We’re headed to Lyon, then on to Italy. It’s been a busy day and a half since I last wrote (we’re moving now. I REALLY hope this is the right train. When I last wrote, we were waiting at the airport for Maryrose to show up. Well, she did show up,and there was much rejoicing. After getting some money, and finding out way to a train, the 5 of us (Mindy, Becky, Jacqui, Maryrose and myself) hopped on the metro (they charged us again, which sucked.. so we got all day passes) then headed to the Louvre. that place is huge. We spent some time at the fountain near one of the entrances whole Mindy and Maryrose looked for a place to put our bags, and to see what all we could see. there was a Leonardo di Vinci exhibit, and then the museum itself. We didn’t have time to see the museum itself (it was around 4, and it closed at 6, and we wanted to go up the Eiffel tower, and someone said it closed at 6 as well, so we figured we’ d check out the Leonardo exhibit So a few people got in line, and grabbed tickets, and then I got in line, and asked on more time “we’re going to the Leonardo, right?”. :Just ask for one, that’s what we did”. So that’s what i did too, and so of course our tickets were for the Louvre itself, which was kewl with me, cause there were some things I really wanted to see.

They didn’t charge us to store all of our bags in a bin near the ticket seller window, which was awesome. But they charge you EVERYWHERE to go to the bathroom. What a crazy country.

I’m currently riding through the French countryside, so there’s the possibility I’ll be adding some asides as we go.

The Louvre was amazing. it’s huge, and pretty much, everything in it seemed either very famous, or very important. Halls upon halls of Roman and Greek statues. Giant endless halls of paintings, some of them just HUGE. We were walking along a hall of statues that I found fascinating, and Mindy mentioned wanting to see the paintings, which was fine (We had looked up some information, and the Louvre was closing at 6, [it was prolly about 5 or so], but the Eiffel tower was open until at least 9:30 or so, so we were all set.) Anyway, we’re walking around, turn a corner, and there was a Venus de Milo,just sort of sitting there, with a sizable crowd around it. No glass case, no elaborate series of lasers. I was… surprised. You’d think with all that famous stuff just sitting there, they’d want to protect it a bit more. Maybe people aren’t as clumsy in France, but gees.. You’ve got statues by Michaelangelo just sitting there, waiting for me to crack an arm off or something. After that, we headed off to the paintings.

The paintings were incredible. there were just so many of them, and they were huge. We had to speed through most of them, as the place was closing soon, and I really wanted to see the Mona Lisa. We still got to see much of the section, then turned a corner, and there it was. Both Mindy and Becky remarked that it was much smaller than they expected, and I had the opposite reaction, simply because I had been told it was quite small They were expecting something like the size it is shown to be in Ever After, (maybe 3 feet by 2 feet) where I was expecting something more like 8 inches by 6) Actual size? something like 2 feet by 1 foot, i think.

After the Mona Lisa, we headed through a section of Michaelangelo’s drawings and sketches, and then headed back out through a number of more Roman / Mythology statues, and then had to leave. We got our bags, headed on out, and decided to get some dinner.

We stopped at a place called La Royale, and the waiter guy there was kinda funny, in that creepy “i don’t speak your language, so I’ll act like Mr. bean” kinda way. Almost all of the restaurants I’ve seen are the open air kin, where they have tables inside, that just kinda spill out to the outside. So we were just barely inside, and our waiter at one point snuck outside, and walked around behind us, to “scare” Mindy, who was sitting in the far corner. he also snuck up behind Jacqui, and started giving her a neck massage, [which earned a look of "oh my god, what does he think he's doing? I'll pretend it's funny in the hopes he might stop." from Jacqui. the other waiter/busboy guy continued to dance and sing (there were TV's with MTV on them) whenever he was around us. They both spoke broken English, and they were actually pretty kewl guys.. kewl in that they didn't make us feel like idiots, and they weren't rude or purposefully mean to us ever, which I appreciated. They were still kinda creepy in that "if you spoke our language I'd probably kick your ass" kinda way.

We order fairly big meals. I had a steak, as did Maryrose, and it was EXCELLENT. (Mindy and Becky had pizza, and Jacqui had a big salad, featuring eggs that tasted, of all things, "too eggy") we also all ordered beers (and our corrupting influence on Becky has begun.) 1 small for Becky, 3 mediums for the ladies, and a hella big one for me. It was about the size of a pitcher, and the stein it came in was rather heavy. It was wonderful. I got a good buzz going by the time we left. Mindy and Maryrose tried using a phone in the basement of the restaurant, and found that a hostel somewhere near the Eiffel tower still had room, but didn't make any reservations. Then Maryrose and I headed of to a hotel to check some prices (they were *really* expensive.). After that, we hopped back on the metro and went to the Eiffel Tower. That thing is still really tall.

After all that beer, many of us needed to "make water". And France charges for use of toilettes, cause their assholes. Finally, at the Eiffel tower, we went to information and asked if there were restrooms nearby, and there were (part of the tower park area), and they charged us 0.40 euros for that, and at that point it was worth it, cause I was going to explode.

with that over, we got in line for the Eiffel tower lift, and decided to go to the top (of course). Again I'll mention that that thing is tall. We got into these large cable-car type elevators that they've got in each one of the legs, and headed up to the 2nd level, then got in a different life that brought us up to the top. There's an enclosed area, then above it is an open air area. We spent a fair amount of time up there, enjoyed the sunset, then headed down. on the way down we saw the line that had formed where we had earlier walked right through, and it was probably about 45 minutes to an hour long at that point. Guess we hit it at just the right time.

Once we got down, I bought a little Eiffel tower for Cathy, and was instantly pounced upon by every other merchant in the area, dying to sell me crazy laser pointers... I did not want one, and they did not seem to understand. this is our stop.

We're at an "Irish Pub" in Lyon. our train isn't going to be running today, and probably not tomorrow. Stupid strike,and stupid France. We just finished our beers, and the girls are playing Flux. There's a protest/demonstration going on in the street a few hundred feet from here. I don't know what the strike is about, but I'm guessing it's either about wanting money, or about being complete and utter assholes. I'm voting for both. Either way, here's what happened recently, then I'll go back to yesterday. We were indeed on the right train, and arrived in Lyons. after an hour we pieced together enough information from the people that spoke a bit of English to find out that none of the trains running out of the country are running because of the strike. So Mindy and Maryrose spent the next hour trying to figure out what we were going to do, and we finally decided that we'd take the train to Marselles. So we went back up, and there was one train there , and the sign said Montpellier. So that wasn't it. the sign said the train to Marselles was running late ("retard"..that's what it says when it's late). So we waited.. then asked this guy if this was the train to Montpellier or Marselles, but he didn't know. so the next time a train guy walked by, Jacqui went to him and asked "Marselles?" and he gave a hand signal like flicking his finger forward, as though he was casting a fishing line. We assumed that meant "after this train leaves". we were not right. shortly thereafter, a train in front of the train we were at (which we didn't realize was another train), left. yeah, that would be the train we wanted. I'll reiterate that part about me not being in charge at all. I'm comfortably oblivious to all decisions.. But I still reserve the right to be upset when bad things happen example: there was a sign right behind Mindy was that had a electronic picture of all the trains currently in the station,and where they were headed. So it said that there was the train to Marselles sitting right there. that's the kind of information that would have been useful to us BEFORE the train had left. Oh well. Then we sat idly by trying to decide if we should take the train sitting in front of us until it too, had left us. At that point I noted that there was a train that was headed to Marselles at 17:45, and we decided to take that. (it was currently 3:30ish [15:30]), SO we had some time. Hence the beer. And that brings us up to the present.

Okay, back to yesterday. after we left the Eiffel tower, and I was accosted by every black market seller in the place, we started searching for the hostel. A few Metro trains later, we didn’t find the hostel, and we weren’t even sure there was room for us anymore. As we were walking we caught site of a Comfort Hotel, and so we sent three in to get a room (yeah, there was a price for 3 people, but 5 people would’ve meant 2 rooms, and we couldn’t afford that… well, we didn’t want to afford it, i guess is more accurate. I was waiting outside, an then they motioned that we should come back in. they guy had let us all go into one room for the price of a 3 person room. Merci beaucoup. We headed up, all took showers, with each person instantly falling asleep as soon as they were done. I took the floor, and was last to shower… and ended up just crashing on the floor before I bothered to unroll my sleeping bag. the time was about 1:30, I thought.

Woke up this morning at 7.. only we quickly realized it was really 6 (and I really went to sleep around 12:30, then.) It was just as well, cause we actually left on time, skipped breakfast (too pricey.. that would be a trend.. not so much the skipping, but more the fact that they charge way too much for everything.) We trekked across Paris for a while, and got some more metro passes (well, RER passes), and made it to the airport. A few shuttle busses later, and we found Trish and Sara. With the full 7 of us assembled, we started on our way.

Okay. I’ve decided to just post my journals as is, without any editting. The pictures for the first two days (which just blended together, cause we didn’t go to sleep at all.) are now up here. (along with day zero).They were pretty much ready last night, as promised, but then I ran into some weird errors, and didn’t get that straightened out until earlier this morning. Anyway, what follows is what I wrote when I had time during those days. I’m not even going to try reading over them before posting, cause I’d prolly end up deleting most of it, and that’s no fun. I just added spacers where new entires started, and ran a quick spell check so things would be slightly more legible. It should be noted now that during these two weeks there were times when I had lots of free time on my hands, and just wrote as something to do, and other times when I had no time at all to write, and tried to quickly covere as much as possible just so I wouldn’t forget. So keep that in mind when you notice how boring most of this is.

Days One and Two

I’m in O’Hare right now.. our flight leaves around 1, and it’s about 11:30 maybe? I don’t know, as i didn’t buy a watch, an I don’t have my phone. Speaking of that, I’ve been without my phone for about an hour now, and I still am not used to it. Since purchasing that phone, i have been without it only once, and that was for a few hours when I was really really pissed off. So going without it will take some getting used to. Granted, while out there I ought to have a bit less need to randomly call someone up, but the idea of being some completely disconnected from everything: No Internet, no seeing lots of people, no phone [no lights no motor car]. It’s going to be weird. I’m so used to checking my phone for the time too. I’ve been without it for an hour, and I’ve tried to check it twice.

Oh, here’s something for you, my backpack is HEAVY. I’m going to die. I didn’t think it was that bad, but with the tent and sleeping bag and a number of last minute supplies.. standing in line to get out tickets… yeah. If i don’t come back looking hella tough and hella strong, then something is very wrong. [This is your reminder to tell me I look hella tough and hella strong.]

I wasn’t going to take my keys with me, because there would be no point.. So in true fashion, I left them in my pocket. We get to the security gate, and I remember the AMD pocket knife I had worked so hard to get (At the Vegas Apachecon). Yeah, I no longer have that. Which is really unfortunate. We didn’t check any luggage, so I couldn’t quick toss it in their either. So.. Yeah, that’s more than a little disappointing, but it’s my own damn fault, so what are you going to do? So now we’re sitting here in O’Hare, waiting for our flight to leave. We managed to gets seats together, which is excellent (we had all gotten our tickets at different times online, so.)

After hanging out with some extended family ([Me, Becky, Mindy] + Julie, Grandma, Aunt Nancy, My parents, Uncle Ed and Aunt Jill + cousins Deb and drew, Friday evening, we crashed at my Grandma’s place. Then My Aunt Nancy drove us [Me, Becky, Mindy] along with Grandma to the airport. that’s where we’re at. Time to start Harry Potter I guess.

okay, we’ve been on the plane for a while now (prolly 45 minutes or so) And wow, I really hate the first 20 minutes of a plane flight No I guess that’s not quite true, the first 4 minutes are really kewl: the burst of speed, the leaving the ground, the seeing things get smaller as you ascend. Then, the pressure starts. I’ve got ear problems, and flying with these ears just sucks. [You can ask Josh about my ear problems. He was my roommate during the unfortunate dual eardrum explosion incident.) So, flying, an we ascend, and the pressure grows, and no amount of yawning, gum, swallowing, anything with get my ears to pop. And the pressure gets more extreme, and I get dizzy, and begin to desire death. I learned after my first flight that keeping my eyes open was a bad idea [I passed out, and it sucked], so now when the pressure gets bad (usually noticed by an inability to focus on anything, and the feeling that we’re constantly turning hard to the left.) I shut my eyes, and try to mentally make my ear passages open up. This flight was no different, and after about 15 minutes of pain, the right ear finally popped (I had bet on the left one… I was wrong), then there’s a really painful but relieving feeling for a few seconds, and then everything is lopsided until the other ear decides to follow suit… which happened about 5 minutes later. So that’s the part of flying that I really, really hate.

Now Becky is listening to CDs, and it took Mindy all of about 3 seconds to get addicted to Wario Wares Inc. I think we land in about a half an hour. This mini keyboard was a wonderful investment. More Harry Potter.

Okay. we landed in Newark, New Jersey. I don’t recall ever being to New Jersey before, but I’ve watched enough TV to know that people don’t think very much of it…. and now it would appear that there’s a good reason for that… Well, from what I saw anyway..it’s a hole, and the airport blows. Not that Grand rapids has a great one, but Grand rapids is very small, and Newark must be the jumping point to Abroad for a lot of airlines, cause I saw Air France, Air Israel, and a few I couldn’t translate here, and we’re going to Paris from here. That being said, they really ought to make the airport suck less. we got off the plane, [first we waited for everyone to get off the plane, because our carry-on luggage was strewn all over the plane, as Becky's bag needed to lose a few inches before it fit, and Mindy's and mine was just big. THEN we got off the plane] Then a guy who doesn’t speak English does a crude pointing job towards where we’re supposed to go… we figure it out. We got on the “air train” [seriously, just call it a tram], and it stopped at concourse B.. and as I was halfway off I was told that wasn’t our concourse. The other guy riding with us [with about 5 people's worth of luggage] attempted to get off, but the door wasn’t lined up very well, and his luggage didn’t fit, and the door shut pretty much on him. “Guess I’ll have to get it next time,” he said. Then we proceeded to Concourse C, our concourse. It slowed down, then gunned it, and went right by it. Then it stopped a few hundred feet past the building… and then started up again. When we got to the next stop (a parking garage complex) We all got off the tram…as did about 25 other people, and lined up for trams going the other way. Turns out it was “the new guy’s first day” and he wasn’t familiar with the stops. Seriously dude, you’re driving a tram with a total of 6 stops. If you’re buy a building, STOP. It’s not rocket science…. It’s not that I minded missing our stop.. I found it amusing.. but the idea that someone that stupid is operating something capable of cause serious harm to me frightens me a lot.

So we get on a new tram, and that on does stop, and we head to the main gate… We needed gate 73.. an the big sign said “for gates 100-131″ So that’s not us then. But there was NO signs or explanation or map to help us get to where we were supposed to be. Mindy asked someone.

Flashback: back on he plane, there were these two girls that sat in front of us. Jodi and Megan. Megan sat down, and since she was by the emergency exit thigner, she turned back to me and asked “Do you know how to work this thing?” “I assume you just pull on the thing labeled ‘pull’” I replied. It’s this kind of witty banter that makes me such a hit with the ladies. (witty banter –> I’m a freaking moron) So she asked if I liked flying, and of course I do not, and she didn’t either.. and we started talking, and her friend Jodi, and Mindy and Becky joined in. They were with a group of people going to London and then Paris. They also know a guy whose dad owns “Bilbo’s”, a restaurant near Kalamazoo. We talked for a while, then we were left to experience the wretched portions of flying for ourselves (Megan apparently was squeezing Jodi’s hand much of the flight.) We talked for a while once we started landing, then wished them all well, and they were off.) flashback done

well, we’re walking trying to find our where our gate is, and we run across Jodi and Megan again, wave Hi, wish them well on their trip, etc.. then continue on.. Eventually, we find where we are supposed to be, and get in line for another security check, and there Jodi and Megan are again. Okay, so when we get to security it’s a mad rush to get our packs off, get all the bajillion things out of our pockets, etc. So I’m ready to head through, and the lady says “got all the stuff out of your pockets?” I check, and toss my keys into the bucket, then quick toss my shoes in there (they had everyone take those off as well.). Then I toss my belt in there, and quickly rescue my pants from dropping quickly to the ground (this new pair of pants apparently knows the “belt off” routine.) I toss my camera in the bucket, and then quick toss this handspring and keyboard as well. Then I walk through.. it buzzes. I walk back over, and she points towards some old guy with an electric wand… I know the drill. Go over there, and grab my wallet and passport out. he starts wanding me, and I empty 22 cents out of my pocket (stupid McDonalds) Figuring that was it, I wait for him to finish. the buttons on my jeans set it off, but he lets that go (after a few hand gropes [yeah.. that's hoe they measure pants... in prison.) then he wands my ass, and it rings off.. I reach back there to find my gameboy advanced. Stupid gameboy. So yeah.. empty that, and the old guy starts getting lippy with me: Did the lady up there tell you to empty your pockets? Yes, she did. yeah.. well you should have done that then... Prick.

So yeah.. make it out of there finally, head to our gate, and it's packed. We blow a half hour , then get on the plane (here's something for you. Some people don't understand the concept of "lines". (line --> First in first out. Not "I'll cut in front of you, even though my passport is stuck inside the bottom of my bag and it's not even my section's turn to go." ). Got on the plane and sat for a LONG time. These planes are slick though.. Tv screens in front of each chair and all that jazz. Only my earphones jack sucks, I have to wrestle with the inputs to make them work, and it's quite rare to get both left and right to work at the same time. Sucks. The controls for the TV were also pissing me off, until I realized that they only allowed the audio to work for a while, until they got through the preflight stuff, and a ton of advertising in both English and French. Now it finally works (and good Morning Miami is going to be on in a few hours.) But for now the Recruit just started, and I'm watching it, so that's pretty kewl. I'm going to watch that. Oh yeah, and the batteries in my gameboy are dead. and the replacements are in my pack.W00t. 6 hour flight. Fun stuff. I'm going to Paris. Still hasn't sunk in. Outside is nothing but clouds, so there's nothing to see there. Anyway back to the Recruit.

okay, the recruit was good. I just watched two episodes of Good Morning Miami, including the original pilot, with a different Gavin and no Penny. It wasn't great, but it still had Jake and Dylan, so I was glad to see it. This flight is going amazingly fast, I think the movie def. helped. I just listened to Alvin and the chipmunks sing "kiss the girl" from the little mermaid, and now I'm listening to someone read Green Eggs and Ham.. In Paris time, it's currently 4:00am, but Chicago time it's like, 10, and technically it's midnight right here... but either way, I've got about 3 hours, and I should sleep. again, this keyboard is sweet, and if I didn't lug my laptop everywhere, this little pda would work quite well.

Wow, I'm exhausted. My body believes it should be about 11:45, but here's it's more like 5:45, and we've already put in quite the day. I'll see what I can remember (there are plenty of pictures to Jog my memory later.

Okay, we landed at Charles de Gaulle airport, and waited in line for a long time to have our passports stamped, then we were off.. only we didn't really know where Mindy had a rough idea where the hotel was. (i say hotel, but I quickly learned that Hotel means Hostel, and computer lab connected to the internet means old ass machines with a button and a scroll ball, and a plastic covered keyboard that charges 1 euro for every 10 minutes, and wisely connects to things very very slowly.

After some searching around, and purchasing a map of Paris, Mindy had a decent hunch where we should be headed. We would need to take the train. Figuring out how to purchase train tickets prove to be another time consuming hassle. Finally, we got a guy that spoke decent Englisher, and he sold us some train tickets, and we headed to the train station, and not a soul checked for our tickets ever. this would become a trend.

Hope on the train, and by this point we have realized that our packs are HEAVY. make it to the hostel, but our room was not yet ready. So we quick went online (sinking a euro for 10 minutes), took care of the information for the Italy section of our trip (and there was much rejoicing), We stowed our packs in a storage room (and there was even more rejoicing.) then we headed off to the Sacre Caeur Basilica, a church on a hill near the hostel that has a beautiful overlook of pretty much all of Paris in front of it. It was spectacular We began to wake up a bit, Seriously, after riding in a plane all day, those packs were heavy and annoying. We were so very glad to be rid of them.

After hanging out there for a while we started walking back, and stopped in a small cafe run by a Korean guy who spoke good French and a little English. Some strong coffee and croissants later, it started to rain. We hung out in the cafe for quite a while (our room was supposed to be ready by 11:30), so when it got near time, we headed off, and returned to the hostel, but the room still was not ready. After some time, we decided to just head out again. We planned on seeing Notre Dame. So we went to the nearest metro station, and after a lot of problems with the computer dealie that was supposed to dispense tickets, we just bought some off of this guy who was trying to help. Then we went on in, (and again, there was no reason to buy the tickets, no one ever checked.), found out ride, and headed off to Notre Dame.

Notre Dame was large, and impressive. when we first saw it, the side facing us was covered with scaffolding, and it didn't look at all like I assumed it would. After moving to the side, it looked a lot more like what I imagined, only a lot bigger. Then near the back, it looked even more like an old style cathedral.

It was raining a bit while we were looking at Notre Dame, but not bad, and the weather otherwise was quite pleasant.. and it was finally starting to feel like Paris (Becky and I had remarked earlier that it didn't look much different from a normal US town.. but once we got into the city a bit more, that changed. ) so since our room prolly still wasn't ready, I suggested heading towards the Arc de Triumph. that would be a fairly decent trek. Turns out there was quite a bit along the way, as well. we swung by the Hotel de Ville, the Palais de Justice, Ste Chapelle [well, we hit that before Notre Dame], then we walked by the Louvre [we'll be going there Tomorrow] that place is HUGE.. And I don’t mean like, Silverdome huge, i mean Zeeland township Huge. I’m looking forward to going in there. we passed by the Orsay Museum, and waked through the Jaroin des Tuileries, and there we could see the Arc de triumph in the distance, along with the Pl. de la concorde.

Just past FDR Ave, we decided to head towards the Eiffel Tower (we could pretty much see the arc, and walking another mile to prove that it was, indeed, a giant arch didn’t seem worth it. So we took a sharp right and walked by the Assemblee nationale, and the Invalides and Ecole Militaire. Then, after losing site of the Eiffel tower for a little while, we turned a corner, and there it was. that thing is pretty big. Walking closer to it we ran across some crazy martial arts performance that was just winding down. We spent a decent amount of time at the Eiffel tower then (we’re going there again tomorrow night, I believe), and took a LOT of pictures, then I fell asleep on the grass, and it was wonderful. Woken soon afterwards, we decided to head back and get our room, etc. we found a train stop, and this time we just went in (and there was much rejoicing). after waiting a half an hour, we got sick of waiting, and decided to just find a Metro station. So we did that (and again just hopped on in, That’s the way to do it) We hopped on the metro, made it back to the Hostel, got our room, (a 3 bed room with it’s own shower. wonderful. Mind you the bathroom is 3 x 6 x 6, ans the floor is covered in about half an inch of water, and it has no toilet, but still, it’s nice. Now we’re all changed, and exhausted, and pondering dinner. there’s a decent chance we’ll just fall asleep instead. I don’t know what they’re like, but I’m used to skipping means, and certainly wouldn’t mind too much doing so today. Either way , I’m drifting off to sleep.. perhaps a little nap would help me out.

The nap didn’t happen.. we headed off in search of food without a hassle (read: McDonalds) but we couldn’t remember where one was (we remembered seeing one earlier in the day, but couldn’t remember where. So we started walking around the town again, and finally ended up at “Quick” burger. The name was ironic , I believe, cause.. Yeah, not so much. They did give me a giant tub of Mayonnaise with my fries though, so that was nice. We ate our meals, and hung out there for a while, then headed back to the hostel and played cards until 8:30 (we had made the rule that we weren’t allowed to go to sleep until at least 8:30 to help acclimate us to the time change, but yeah, it was a lot of work not falling asleep. [ I fell asleep in the middle of a hand towards the end] once it was 8:30 we went to sleep. It was still bright out, and the bar below us was not super loud, but certainly noticeable. Nevertheless, i fell asleep instantly, and woke up when I was woken up at 7:30. We were supposed to meet up with Jacqui at the airport at around 8-8:30 (give or take a little while for customs… I think her flight landed at 7:45) I’ll take this moment to reiterate: I am in charge of absolutely nothing on this trip. I’ve made almost none of the decisions, almost none of the plans, and been in the lead none of the time. Therefore, all praise and complaints associated with the organization of this trip fall squarely on people that aren’t me.