Dingaling, hear them ring. Soon it will be Christmas day

Sorry for the delay between posts...been a busy couple weeks. Sorry, ladies of Sir Wil (I'm told I have a fanbase there).

Budapest was great. It's a very big city, so getting around is slightly trickier than some of the smaller cities I'd just been to, but I managed. I'd heard really good things about a hostel in Budapest (from a guy who had tattooed its name on his ass – I had to at least check it out), so I gave it a try. It was definitely the friendliest hostel I've ever stayed at, with everybody knowing eachother's name, and a very social atmosphere. We went out on small pub crawl every night, which was a good way to see the nightlife, even if some of the bars were kinda crappy. The only downside was that about 95% of the hostel guests were Aussies (I'm telling you, there's none left in Australia) and younger than me, so I felt like a bit of an outsider. Nonetheless, it was a great time. One night at the pubs, I was wearing my Oakland A's ball cap and a couple Hungarian guys game up to me and told me they were the “Hungarian Baseball Freaks”. I quickly discerned this meant they just really liked baseball and wanted to talk to me about it. I haven't followed pro ball in years, but I gave it my best since they were buying the beers. I think they appreciated it. At some point on this night I also met Alice the Kiwi, another backpacker staying at a sister hostel. She said she was heading to Prague on Sunday, and that had been my rough plan too, so we decided to head there together. I met some really cool people in Budapest, and I'm very glad I went.

So, Sunday morning Alice and I met up and caught the bus to Prague, which was long but pretty comfortable. We explored the city by foot the first couple days, taking in the Christmas markets, their elaborate bridge (name escapes me), the castle, and pretty much everything in between. Our second night there we met up with my South African friends, Marcel and Anton for a pub crawl along with a couple other people from our hostel. I'd been hearing whispers of this particular pub crawl since getting to Eastern Europe. This pub crawl's claim to fame is that for the first two hours, you have unlimited access to beer, vodka, and absinthe. Yeah. Shit got messy. We weren't even in the second bar for 10 minutes before Alice said she wasn't feeling well, so I went upstairs with her for some air. As she was redecorating the side of the bar, I saw another of the girls from the hostel being thrown into a cab too, unconscious. I was feeling fine and wanted to keep pub crawling, but unfortunately responsible me took over and put Alice in the same cab and off we went back to the hostel. The cab driver dropped us off pretty far from our hostel, so I had to carry the passed-out one over my shoulder as her friend was freaking out and Alice was drunkenly screaming for an ambulance. Fun times! I had originally planned on going back to join the pub crawl once everybody was back home safe, but I was so worn out from lugging the girl around (she was dead weight...completely unconscious), that I decided I'd just call it a night. Unfortunately the next day the girls, who had left their jackets out in the common room overnight, both discovered large sums of cash missing from their pockets. It was a good reminder to be careful with your things in hostels, cause you never know.

Our final full day in Prague was fun, but chilly. We met up with the South Africans along with an Aussie (see?) from our hostel for a walking tour. This was a bit of a challenge since it was snowing hard – you've probably heard of the blizzards rocking Europe the last few days – and it was pretty cold out. To boot, the normal tour guide was sick so it was an office manager doing the tour, who was very rushed and didn't have the best grasp of English. He still had lots of interesting info to offer though, and it was cool to learn of all the different empires that have ruled Prague. Afterwords we made some dinner at the hostel and found the prague beer museum, which was really just a pub with a bunch of different beers. They weren't quite as good as the Belgian beers, but I'm now definitely a fan of the Czech beers.

The following day Alice and I parted ways and I headed for Berlin. Now there's a city for history buffs! I did another walking tour of Berlin and saw a bit of everything from the Brandenburg gate, to the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, the old Luftwaffe headquarters, and the hotel where MJ dangled his baby by its leg over the balcony. On the tour I met a couple cool people so we decided to meet up later for drinks. Unfortunately when we met up later I realised too late that they had a dance club in mind, not a pub. Fack! I went along with it, and actually had a decent time. It was a huge old warehouse that had been converted into a club with different styles of music on each floor. They had a rock floor, an electro floor (I'll never understand why they love techno so much), and a “blackmusic” floor. This turned out to be r&b and hip hop, but the name came off as a little politically incorrect. I mean I'm white (sorry for the shocker), and I enjoyed that floor more than the others...as did most people there from what I could tell. I dunno, just one of those cultural things I suppose.

The following day was awesome...I went to a hockey game! The Berlin Eisbaren (polar bears, but doesn't that sound cooler?) were playing Sunday afternoon, and I decided I'd been away from hockey too long. So I finally figured out how to get there (turns out it was literally right behind the club I'd been to the night before) and took off. While waiting in line at the box office, somebody came up to me and offered me a free ticket cause their friend had to cancel, so that was a bonus! I made sure to buy him a beer with some of my money saved. It was really fun being there. The quality of the hockey on the ice itself was kinda crappy compared to the NHL (or even OHL...but not Delage), but they make it lots of fun for everybody to draw the crowds. I was surprised to learn that the arena seats 15000 people, and they were just shy of being a capacity crowd – not bad for a Sunday afternoon. There were fireworks, lots of chanting, and singing. One thing I thought was really cool was when the announcer was announcing the home team line up, he would only say the player's first name and the entire crowd would should his last name back. There was even a Canadian in the line-up. Go Steve Walker! The Eisbaren ended up losing 2-1 in a shootout if you missed SportsCentre.

Ok, so I've been really slack on taking pictures (gimme a break, it's freezing out), and just as slack at posting them. So, here are some pictures from Amalfi, Venice, Prague, Budapest, and Berlin.

My Christmas plea:

I hope everybody has a very merry Christmas and get to spend it with the people they love. Being away from everybody I care about is going to be tough for me. It really makes me realise how much family and friends mean over the holidays, and how little everything else (gifts, money, etc) does. So I've got a favour to ask from you. Send me a Christmas email. Let me know how things are going with you. Do you have any questions about my trip? I'll write you back. How desperate does that all sound? I dunno, I'd just love to hear from everybody, so if you're reading this, drop me a line!

Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder

I've been up to lots since last checking in, so I may as well get right to it. Venice was beautiful when it wasn't raining. It's a very cool town to explore, and very easy to get lost in since the streets are very windy and confusing. When I say streets, I of course mean walkways, because Venice has zero streets and cars. The canals are beautiful, but because I was there during the rainy season, they would flood some of the sidewalks during high tide, so people would have to walk on elevated platforms along some routes. Definitely makes it tricky to get around! I didn't do much besides walk and explore since Venice is a very expensive city, and doesn't have much of a nightlife. But I'm really glad I stopped by...really cool town.

After a few days in Venice, I trained over to Ljubljana, Slovenia. This was my first time in Eastern Europe, and it was another beautiful city. The only train going into Ljubljana from Venice though was a night train, so imagine my surprise when I woke up from a nap on the train to look outside in the dark and see everything covered in nearly a foot of snow! This did not make finding my hostel at 2:00 am more enjoyable. I've got nothing but great things to say about Ljubljana though. The hostel I stayed at was great, the town is beautiful, the people there are really friendly, and everything was cheap! What more could you ask for? My first day there was pretty quiet as I did some much needed laundry and caught up on sleep. After that though I had fun walking the city for hours, exploring the different parts of town. Ljubljana is a very young town, and this is reflected in the culture, art, shops, etc. I also bought myself a winter jacket since my sweater/rain jacket combo would clearly no longer cut it. On my second night there I joined the hostel's get together party in order to meet some people. It ended up being pretty fun...we had a few drinks, and I met some cool people from different parts of the world. Over a shared bucket of mojitos (don't ask), I agreed with a couple of South African guys and an American to go find a certain restaurant, the hot horse, the following day. So the next day, we trekked out in the freezing rain and ate at the hot horse. This isn't so much a restaurant as it is a shack in the park. And their claim to fame is their burgers, which are not made of beef, but rather...horse. It was rather tasty...very big bun with lots of fixins...all in all, not a bad meal! So now if anybody ever tells me they're so hungry they could eat a horse, I can tell them what they're in for. That night we ended up going out for some drinks, which was an interesting experience. I tried absinthe for the first time, which I enjoyed. We also got a random bricolage of multiculturalism, as we went to an irish pub, listening to a kilt-clad slovenian band that was playing irish folk music. Met lots of the locals there, which was a great time since they're so friendly. One lady grabbed me from the bar and insisted I waltz with her...it didn't seem to matter to her that I had no idea how. Ah well, I got a crash course in the Vienna waltz, and everybody had fun.

I took off on Friday to Vienna, which was a long train ride. I was disappointed to learn that there were no hostels available for the Saturday night for some reason, so I only stayed in Vienna one night. I got some schnitzel, which was very tasty.

On saturday I took off to Bratislava, Slovakia. Its claim to backpacker fame is that it is the location where the torture-porn flick Hostel takes place. My hostel has even photoshopped their name into a couple movie posters and had them professionally printed, so at least they've got a sense of humour about it. Well I'm glad to say I've been here 4 days and have yet to be dismembered, so that's good. I think that if you really wanted to make a movie about hostels that scares people, make a documentary! Bratislava's kinda small, so there are only so many things to do, especially in the offseason. My favourite part (besides the beautiful women) is the christmas markets in the old part of town. It's kind of got a Winterlude vibe to it, except instead of skating and activities, it's all just eating fantastically unhealthy fried foods from different stands and drinking gluwine, which is wine that has been sweetened and spiced, and then served hot. Great for clearing up the sinuses on a cool day! My South African friends ended up arriving a couple days after me, so we met up again for some food and drinks, which was good times as always. One interesting anecdote... I had a crazy lady in my room the first night. Not just kinda weird, she was legit crazy. She couldn't sleep because of the noise from outside of the room, so every hour or so she would scream that she couldn't sleep, which I thought was really thoughtful. Other highlights included her trying to sell her passport to me for 200 euros, her asking me to stay in the room for the whole day to watch her clothes so that they didn't get stolen, and my personal favourite - her saying the hostel was just like a concentration camp because there was a draft from the window by her bed. Luckily she moved to a different room the following night, and then got kicked out altogether the followind day.

So, next up is Budapest. I'm just killing time for the moment, waiting for my train there. I hear great things about that too, so I'm looking forward to exploring what it has to offer. Til next time.

Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

I'm back on my own again. It's an odd feeling, because I've been travelling with others for pretty much the entire past month. On the one hand I'm looking forward to the solitude and the autonomy, but on the other hand I've definitely gotten used to going with the flow (aka letting other people worry about the details). It takes a lot of self-motivation to leave a city you've just gotten familiar with in order to move onto a completely new place where you're starting from scratch again. Ah well, this is what I signed up for, right?

Sorrento turned out to be quite the pretty town, if not a little touristy. Its main draw is the isle of Capri which is just a short ferry ride away. My dad and I visited the island on our second day there and it was beautiful. There isn't a whole lot to do there besides enjoy the scenery, which is what I did. My dad got more adventurous and wandered off to the other side of the island, but I was still feeling pretty weak from the food poisoning, so I just kinda chilled for a while on a bench overlooking the sea. We ended up bussing around the island, which was a great way to see the sights. The roads there reminded me of pretty much every James Bond car chase scene I've ever seen, with sharp turns, roads built into the cliff, the Mediterranean right next to you.

The following day we left for Amalfi. If you've heard about the Amalfi Coast, it's all true. If you haven't, it's stunning. The drive there is the main attraction. I'm definitely not eloquent enough to describe the scenery along the way. Go get a thesaurus, look up beautiful, imagine a comma in between each of those words, and add “super” in front of all of them...that'll give you a small idea. The towns along the way are all built into the cliffs, which are several hundred feet high. The narrow road was built along the cliff, so again, you drive with the Mediterranean to your right, several hundred feet down. And above and below you are houses that leave you wondering how they ever got built in the first place. The road itself is very old, so it is very narrow. The bus honks as it goes around every corner to let oncoming cars know it's coming, since there's only room for one of them. If two oncoming cars meet and it's too narrow, one of them (and all the cars behind it) has to back up until there's enough room to pass. The curves are the best part, because it gives you a great view of the next set of cliffs jutting out over the turquoise water, a few miles away. If you're going to be heading to Southern Italy, it's a must see. Amalfi itself is one of the towns built into the hill, so as you can guess, it's a lot of climbing. Luckily this was the first day I was feeling like I had most of my strength back (I'm back to normal now if you're worried), so this was good timing. Again, aside from admiring the views, there's not a whole lot going on in Amalfi. There's a couple things to check out, but in the off season, there's not too much to do other than wander around. Well there's the lemoncello. Since it's so warm there, they have orange and lemon trees growing everywhere. So what a lot of people do is turn their lemons into the liqueur and sell it in bottles of all shapes and sizes. And thankfully, due to the wonders of supply and demand, it's usually pretty cheap. Very tasty stuff.

We took off from Amalfi to Salerno in order to catch a train up to Florence. The original plan had been to keep moving south to Sicily, but we had been enjoying ourselves too much along the way and kept booking extra nights in the different places where we stayed. Ah well. Aside from the drastic drop in temperature, I'm really glad we ended up in Florence. It's the perfect sized town for a backpacker... small enough where you can pretty much walk everywhere, but big enough that there's plenty to do and see to keep you busy for days. Plus, it's got butt-loads of culture. Sorry for the vulgarity, I just figured that phrase had never been written before, and I wanted to be the first. But it's true...lots of history as the former unofficial capital of art, philosophy, and wealth in old Europe. We did another bus tour of the city which was a good way to get acquainted with it. We saw and did most of the major sites, such as Ponte Vecchio, the Piazza del Michelangelo, the Uffizi art gallery, Il Duomo, and the Galleria Academia (most famously known for housing Michelangelo's David). Our second night in Florence, I did a bit of research online and found a good restaurant to eat at. Il Latino is an interesting spot...most people make reservations, but still “line up” (I use this term loosely...Italians don't so much line up as try to get in front of as many people as possible by any means necessary) at 7:30 when it opens. We showed up without a reservation, so after waiting a few extra minutes, we were seated at a table for 4 with an elderly Italian couple. There's a small chance they were from Naples. I don't know what I was doing wrong while eating my appetizer, but I do know the lady sitting next to me did. Every minute or so she'd mutter something in Italian, look over at me or my plate (not subtly) and give me a dirty look. I didn't help my cause when I went to take a slice of the bread from our shared basket and had to maul it because it hadn't been sliced all the way through. Surprisingly, they didn't take any bread after. My dad was having a good laugh at all this, because for once it was me screwing up and looking like a dork. This lasted for about 2 minutes until he went to uncork the bottle of wine and the cork went flying onto the floor, hitting the man on its way down. What can I say, we Wright men are some classy folk. The meal itself was great...we stuffed ourselves silly, as they brought out course after course. Even the after-dinner drink had an after-drink drink. My favourite part of the meal was when the old couple ordered a couple of steak florentines. The looks on their faces were priceless when the waiter brought out what must have been at least 40 oz of meat. It was Fred Flintstone size. Our turn to laugh at them!

My Canadian friend Liz had dropped me a line earlier in the day saying she was in town, so we ended up meeting after dinner for some wine and beer. It was great catching up with her and hanging out a bit more, since this will probably our last time seeing each other on this trip. All in all Florence was great.

I'm currently on a train, heading for Venice. Not sure when I'll be able to post this, since my hostel doesn't have wifi apparently (this was written on Saturday afternoon). I saw my dad off yesterday in the evening. It was harder saying goodbye than I thought. 2 weeks was definitely the right length for his visit, but it was hard seeing him go, knowing that's the last time I'll likely see family for quite a while.

A few words about my dad. Normally I wouldn't write about somebody like this specifically, but I'm pretty sure he wants to read about himself (because he told me so), so here it is. Travelling with him was great and lots of fun. It wasn't all roses though, and we both knew that would be the case coming into this. We've got similar personalities (including hard-headedness), but our travelling styles are very different. I'm all about trying to blend in as much as possible (as much as a 6-2, heavyset, pale guy with a 2 month ginger beard can blend in), whereas my dad...not so much. He has no problems walking around with a map in his hand, looking around to admire the sites while at the same time gazing for the next street name, looking confused. He's kind of a dorky tourist, but he knows it, and to his full credit, he simply doesn't give a shit what other people think of it. I'm being completely sincere when I say I admire that about him. Haha what I didn't admire was the travel pouch. This is one of those strapped pouches with a couple zippable pockets for stuff like your passport and wallet, to defend against pickpockets (Rome and other parts of Italy are notorious for pickpockets in his defence). He would wear it around his neck, under his tshirt, which made for a nice obvious square bulge. This quickly became known as the purse, and again to his credit, he took my ribbing with good humour. The most admirable part of his attitude is that he would always see the upside of everything. This is another way of saying he was easily impressed. Every other meal, he would declare the sandwich or pasta he was eating to be the best he's ever had in his life. Imagine taking a vacation where everything you experience is the best ever....that would be awesome! Me, I'm not so enthusiastic all the time...something I should probably work on.

So our differences in personality led to a bit of friction at times, but nothing more than any 2 people who travel together for 2 weeks would experience, and quite frankly much less than I was expecting. Dad, thanks for letting me join you on your vacation, I'm so glad we got to do it together. I appreciate everything you did for me. Love you pop, see you in the summer!

Here are some pictures from the rest of our trip. Again, they're off my dad's camera (I didn't even see some of this stuff because I was sick). Sorry if a bunch of them are sideways, I'll fix them as soon as I can.

Spoiler alert: It's Tuesday now and I'm already in Eastern Europe. But I'll bore you with those details another time. Also, ironically, I had the best gellato I've ever had yesterday...no joke

When in Rome

I hate to brag, but I'm pretty much at the peak of awesomeness on this trip. How, you may be asking, could I possibly reach such a peak? Well, it's 8:30 PM and I just left my dad to come back to the hotel room so I could blog and watch a Kid Rock concert on MTV Europe while he went to find a bar to have drinks and meet people. That awesome. Let me start from the beginning.

I flew into Rome from Amsterdam last Saturday and had a night to kill before meeting up with my dad. My intention was to find some cheap food and get an early night's sleep. However, that didn't happen - as it rarely seems to over here. I met a few Americans in my hostel room who were on their way out to dinner, so I figured I'd join them. They were a few years younger, all college kids studying a semester abroad in Holland. They were just visiting Rome for the weekend. They were all pretty fun, so after dinner we went out for drinks. Then a bunch of drama went down like you only see in bad sitcoms. The guy there had a bad combination of too much wine and an unrequited crush on one of the girls. Somehow it ended up being just the 3 of us at the table when it went down, and it just got messy. Gotta hand it to the guy for laying it out there, because he definitely made his feelings be known. He just wasn't doing such a good job at hearing that the feelings were not being returned. This conversation went on for about 30 minutes, him telling her how much he liked her, etc and her saying how much she didn't. With me there. He even tried pulling me into it a couple times, which I just refused to allow to happen. I excused myself to go to the bar and get the hell out of the convo and when I came back all I saw was him storming off towards the hostel with his glass of wine in hand. Ah well. We had a few more drinks, awkwardly laughed off what had just transpired, and eventually made it back to the hostel. I was kinda thankful that group had to take off early the next morning, so I didn't have to see any more of the awkwardness.

So on Sunday I killed a couple hours and went to the hotel my dad had booked. Note the lack of “s” in hotel. A real hotel. As in no sharing the bathroom or room itself with anybody else. As in other people make the beds. As in they provide you with soap and towels. As in the room was actually at a respectable level of cleanliness. I felt like royalty! After 2 straight months in hostels, I had definitely forgotten how the other half lives. I took a quick nap (without having to hide all my valuable shit!) and waited for my dad to arrive. It was great seeing him when he got there....that's probably the longest I've gone without seeing any family, so it was very refreshing. We quickly caught up and then hit the road in Rome. It is a beautiful city. We walked to the Coliseum, which is incredibly impressive in person. Pictures don't do it justice, especially when you consider how long ago it was built. But then again everything in Rome seems to have been built a couple thousand years ago. It's pretty safe to say Romans took their churches seriously back in the day. You can walk by any old looking church on the street, and pop your head in, and they are usually breathtaking on the inside. Later, after dinner, we went out for a drink and found a bar that happened to be attached to a hostel. My dad just loved this, chatting with everybody, asking all sorts of questions like where they were from, etc. I think that interaction gave him a bit of a glimpse as to the type of people I've been meeting and how I've been socializing. And I'm pretty sure I did my best to not act embarrassed, which was admittedly a little tough at times, like when he asked about 3 or 4 Americans in a row why their English was so good. This was after a couple bottles of vino, to his credit.

The following day we did a hop on hop off bus tour of Rome which was cool. I often see the tours in the cities I visit, but don't usually do them for budgetary reasons. So it was nice to see the city from a different perspective, and get taken to all the different sites. We did some more site seeing, and then had another nice night of dinner and a couple bottles of wine. The following day we did the Vatican. Talk about your impressive churches. St Peter's Basilica is jaw-dropping. We went in the morning and luckily it wasn't too busy. We took our time exploring the Basilica, and then visited the tombs of all the popes, which is slightly less creepy than it sounds. Then we did the Scavi tour, which I recommend for anybody who is visiting the Vatican. I had never heard of it, but my dad had booked it a few weeks in advance. Apparently they only let 200 people in per day, so it's kind of a big deal I suppose. Basically, the Basilica is built above ancient tombs. The rumour was that St Peter's bones were buried beneath the alter of the Basilica, but nobody really wanted to try digging them up. Eventually an excavation was commissioned in secret, and sure enough, St Peter's bones were found. So you go underground through these very narrow streets that are thousands of years old, and you see lots of tombs, and eventually at the end of the tour you actually see St Peter's bones...so they say anyways. Our guide said that whenever Pope JP II would come back from travelling, the first thing he would always do is come down to pray with St Peter's remains. Like I said, it was a very cool tour, and if you get the chance, take the tour. If for no other reason that you can act snooty and say you did the exclusive tour.

So the next day we figured we'd move on to our next destination and head to Naples. I'm sure most backpackers can relate to this problem... when I tell people of my journey, they often ask “what's your favourite place”? This is such a difficult question to answer since so many cities have so many different things going for them. One may have great history and museums, but the people leave something to be desired. Some may have great culture, but the prices can be prohibitive. Well it hasn't happened yet, but if ever I get asked what my least favourite place is, I'll be able to say Naples without hesitation. I'll admit part of my reason isn't Naples' fault, but I have nothing good to say about my time there. My main 2 reasons for this are: 1) I was struck with food poisoning within about 3 hours of being there and 2) Naples was kind of a hole. No offense.

I'll start with the latter. When we were there, there was a garbage strike on. Not a great way for a city to endear itself to any visitor. Our hotel was in kind of a dumpy area, and the piles of garbage certainly didn't improve anything. My dad would say this next point a lot more diplomatically than I would. He would say that “Naples is a city that hides its charms well”. Here's how I'd say it if I was talking to you straight - everybody we encountered in Naples kind of seemed like a dick. I'm not generalizing and saying everybody from Naples is a dick. I'm not even saying we encountered enough people to represent a legitimate sample size of dickishness. I'm just saying that the people who we crossed paths with in our particular journey were, with very few exceptions, dicks.

Onto the former. I'm not sure what I ate (we've got it narrowed down to a few suspects), but by our first evening in Naples, I was feeling ill. I couldn't even make it through dinner without being sick. I'll spare you all the gritty details, but I spent the majority of the night assisting my stomach in making sure it was rid of whatever it was that it didn't agree with. I was very thankful to have my dad there to help me out, as he made a couple trips to the pharmacy for me, and grabbed me a few bottles of water, etc too. I was also very thankful to be in a hotel room rather than a hostel, the biggest reason being an en suite bathroom. I slowly started to feel better the following afternoon, finally able to keep water down. By the next morning dry toast was doable, so I definitely made strides. I stayed in for the most part, and my dad did a lot of site-seeing on his own. I think he found some nice parts of the city, despite the dicks (those are my words, not his – he'd never say something like that about people, no matter how many dicks there were). He'd probably have nicer things to say about the city since he had more exposure to it, but I'm pretty sure he'd agree that he enjoyed Rome more too.

So finally, today (Saturday), we left for Sorrento. We probably would have left a day or two earlier, but I just wasn't physically up for it unfortunately. Tomorrow we'll likely try to catch a ferry out to Capri, which is supposed to be a cool scenic island. I'm looking forward to the next week with my dad, where we'll both hopefully be healthy and able to do this trip all-out for the rest of the way! That's why I'm back in the room early. I'm still feeling pretty fragile from the food poisoning, so I'll rest up for one more night and hopefully be back to my old self.

Here are some pics of Rome, taken by my dad for the most part.

Amsterdam

It was nice. There was a park. It was also nice. Met up with Courtenay, who is the friend of a friend from back home and went to a hip hop show (Jedi Mind Tricks). It was nice.

Next up, Italy! I'll be flying to Rome this afternoon and my dad will be meeting me there tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to catching up with my old man over the next two weeks as we travel the south of the country. Should be fun!

Remembrance Day

One of the most important days on the Canadian calendar in my opinion. If there's any vets out there, thanks!
Two proud Canadians at the Canadian War Memorial in London

Time flies

Well it's been a while since my last post. That's cause I've just been having too much fun to stop and write to be honest. A lot's happened in the last while, so it'll unfortunately have to be a bulletted list update

• Left Bath for Bristol and stayed with Mandy's friends who were good people and great hosts. They showed us around Bristol, including some cool graffiti (Bristol is Banksy's hometown). That night we went to a house party. Apparently it was nothing out of the ordinary for there...but it's definitely unlike any houseparty I've been to. Hard to really describe it...so I won't. Just kinda crazy.
• The following day I left for London to meet up with the rest of the Core Four as we had taken to calling ourselves. London consisted of strolls through many beautiful parks (Hyde, Regents, Kensington, and probably more that I'm not thinking of), Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Thames, trying to comprehend the Australian fascination with Squirrels, the British Museum, getting shut out of pubs way too early, Trafalgar Square, etc.
• After a few days of London shenanigans, Liz, Dan, and I decided to cross the Channel and head for Belgium. Hayley stayed behind in London for a friend, which is too bad, but understandable. We'll hopefully cross paths again! The 3 of us started in Brussels (lost and confused), but eventually found our way to the hostel as well as plenty of fun. We hit up a bar the first night and must have enjoyed some of Belgium's finest beers a little too much, because we only ended up back at the hostel after sunrise. Brussels is a busy town with some beautiful architecture. We did lots of exploring in between stops for chocolates, waffles, and of course more beers.
• Bruges. Got here yesterday and explored the town. Liz was brave enough to climb the high tower and got a great view of the city. Dan and I climbed into the nearest pub. Later we took a boat tour of the canals of Bruges. And generally just walked around and discovered the beautiful town. Very picturesque. Don't believe Collin Ferrell, it's not a shithole.

So now you're caught up. Liz the Leader is leaving us today for France (despite our begging), so Dan and I will be heading to Amsterdam for a boy's trip today. I'm not sure how we'll have fun there on our own, but I'm sure we'll manage. Until next time!

Oh and I actually managed to take some pictures. Here you go!

There beneath the blue suburban skies

Hello from England. I've been enjoying my time here, and it's been great having some company with me. Thanks Mandy! I have to be careful what I say about her since she has a habit of reading my blog in my presence...

I kid of course. I have nothing but great things to say of her. I finally arrived in Liverpool on Sunday after all the bus and train shenanigans that I had to go through. It was frustrating to say the least. You can bet they received a polite but firm email from yours truly. You can take the man out of Canada, but you can't take Canada out of the man! Mandy and I caught up over some wine and pasta at the Liverpool hostel. We were both pretty tired from a long day of travelling so we kept it relatively quiet. The next day we decided to be Tourists with a capital T. We went on the magical mystery tour, a Beatles bus tour. We had some time to kill first, so we decided to wander the city a bit. We found a neat graveyard and the Liverpool Cathedral (well...the cathedral is hard to miss...it's massive). The were both neat sites to explore. Finally it was time for the tour. It was very informative, but way overpriced...pretty much exactly what we were expecting. The tour ended at the famous Cavern Club, where we decided to have a drink amongst the other capitalized Tourists. We were glad(ish) we did, since about 30 minutes later, a John Lennon impersonator came out and played. Musically, he was really good...his voice actually sounded a lot like Lennon. Physically he looked more like an Elvis impersonator...the later years Elvis. And he was horribly obnoxious in his between-song banter. Nonetheless, the music was really good so we stayed around for a while. Later that night we went to the Philharmonic Pub which I'd highly recommend to anybody going to Liverpool. The building is very big, old, and fancy and it clearly used to be used for something other than a pub. I was impressed by the bathroom...not to get into too many details, but the urinals were the fanciest I've ever seen. Most men's bathrooms can usually be described as utilitarian at best...this one was lavish and fancy. Let's move on.

We left Liverpool on Tuesday and headed south for Bath. This was a long bus ride, but worth the trip. Bath is a beautiful town with really old architecture. The town is famous for its roman baths, so it's kind of a posh spa town. It's very boutique-y. For my Canadian audience, it really reminded me of Mont Tremblant, minus the mountains and much older. Dan and Hayley, my Australian friends from Edinburgh were there on Tuesday too so we met up for some beers and asshole (the card game, not the orifice). I taught them how to play it in Edinburgh and they've been obsessed ever since. Apparently they were practising all week on the computer. Good times were had by all.

On Wednesday, Mandy and I enjoyed exploring the town, walking around. We found the botanical gardens, and a few other cool spots in the town. We were also determined to figure out a way to get to Stonehenge from Bath without having to pay for one the overpriced tours going there. The only way we could have done it was to take a train and a bus, and then walk for 4 miles over a combination of highways and through farmer's fields with directions such as turn left at the nice row of trees. And it would have cost more than doing the tour. So we both agreed that Stonehenge wouldn't really be worth it and we decided not to bother... the Mystery Tour was our overpriced Touristy splurge of the week. That night we found a really cool pub with some good live music and lots of character. Somebody ended up spotting my Canadian accent and soon enough we were joined by two women, one being from Ottawa. Shockingly she also worked for the gov...such a rare quality in an Ottawa resident! They were cool people to talk to so we enjoyed their company for the rest of the evening.

On Thursday we switched hostels, since the one we had been staying at was a shit hole (avoid Bath Backpackers if you're ever in Bath). Our day was a little quieter but still fun nonetheless.

So what's the plan next you're likely not asking yourself, but I'm answering anyways. In a couple of hours we'll be heading to Bristol where we'll be staying with Mandy's friend for the night. Then Saturday we'll be parting ways...I'll be heading to London to meet up with the Edinburgh crew (and possibly seeing the nfl game at Wembley on Sunday if I can find a cheap ticket...not dropping 80 pounds on two teams that are almost as bad as the Bills). Mandy will be heading to work on a farm near Bristol on Sunday. All the best Mandy, thanks again for meeting up with me and showing me around England!

Photo update. So I've been completely slacking on taking pics. I didn't take a single one in Edinburgh, which is criminal since it's probably the most beautiful and photogenic city I've been to yet. So I'm trying to get back on the trolley. Here are the photos from Liverpool. I tried captioning the Beatles tour pics as best as possible, so you know what you're looking at, other than some old brick house. Have a great weekend!

Almost...Almost...Almost...There we are

Wow, what a difference a week makes. You'll (hopefully) be happy to learn that I'm back to good health. I switched hostels last Sunday in hopes of a fresh start in Edinburgh. I'm sure glad I did. The new hostel was big, but was good...very relaxed, laid back atmosphere. Thanks for the tip, Arty! Still not letting you live down the MNF ticket incident though. Anyways, I checked into my room which was big but luckily not overcrowded with beds. As I was getting settled in, I got to a know a few other people who were also just getting there. They were a couple of Aussies, Dan and Hayley, and a Canadian, Liz. Quick aside... you'll likely notice a recurring theme in this blog, which is the meeting of Aussies. That is because they are everywhere in Europe. I can honestly say I heard more Aussie accents in the last two weeks than Scottish accents. Not that there's anything wrong with that... I just wonder who is back in Australia since they're all out here. Anyways, I quickly befriended these 3 great people and we decided to hit up a pub or two. This is when we discovered our natural ability to assemble a homemade pub crawl. We started out just the 4 of us, but by the time we made it to the 3^rd bar, we had more than doubled in numbers. It was a great night out all in all.

The following day, I finally explored the city a bit. I couldn't stretch myself too much though since I was still regaining my strength from not having been able to eat/breathe much the week previous. What I did see was awesome...very beautiful architecture and design. Just to backtrack a moment...my first Edinburgh hostel had been in the newer part of town, which they for some reason named New Town. Since it is a modern addition, the buildings aren't nearly as old and impressive. My new hostel however was right in Old Town (guess how it got its name), with an amazing view of the Edinburgh castle. So seeing this part of town after having been laid up in my hostel for a week was a great little surprise. That night was Hayley's birthday. Well, the entire day had been Hayley's birthday, but we were celebrating that night. Her one birthday wish was to go to Pizza Hut. You may scoff at this, thinking we're travelling in a faraway continent with loads of culture and cuisine in every direction and all she wants in some crappy pizza from an American chain. However if you've been on the road for any extended amount of time (they're 5 months into their trip), you'll come to appreciate the comforts of home, no matter how trivial, as something to be revered. Hell, I've only been gone a little over a month and it was the best meal I'd had since the chicken roast I had mentioned in a previous entry. So with our stomachs full we went back to the hostel to have some drinks and play some cards before heading out to celebrate. This is when our pub crawl abilities really shined. We were playing cards in our room in the middle of the floor and not only managed to get more people to play the game, we got the entire room (a dozen total) to come out on our pub crawl. Liz lead the way, as always, and we found a couple really good pubs and had a really good time. We also found a couple shitty pubs, but we managed to have a good time nonetheless in those as well. The way last call works in Scotland is that pubs have to close by 1:00 am (in the morning) but clubs can stay open til 3. So at 1 we headed over to a club near our hostel. This won't come as a shock to many of my friends, but I fucking hate clubbing. I hate everything about it...the overpriced drinks, the loud and shitty pop music that prevents any sort of meaningful conversation, dancing, and the obvious way in which half the people there are just trying to hook up. I dunno, I just don't like clubs. Anyways, I figured I'd be a good sport since it was Hayley's bday and went along with the group. I had a drink, but just couldn't get into it...there was no denying that I was miserable there. I didn't want to be a wet blanket on anybody else's good time, so I wished everybody farewell, and took off. When I got back this was great since the whole room was still out of the club. I got to fall asleep in peace. Of course a couple hours later this backfired on me. I'm not sure what happened in those 2 hours that I was gone, because everybody seemed fine when I left. But when they got back it was like an alcohol bomb had gone off. People were singing, climbing into eachother's beds, even climbing (and physically jumping) into mine! I didn't mind the noise because I knew it meant that everybody had been having fun...these were my friends afterall, not hostel randos. However it was not to last. You know the old saying... it's all fun and games until the hairy greek guy strips down to his bikini brief underwear and starts running around trying to insist his way into a girl's bed. No? Well that should be a saying, cause that creeper made the night real fucking weird real fucking quick! After pretty much half the room told him to get his shit together and go to bed, he finally did.

Believe it or not most people took it easy the following day. The 4 of us, along with another Aussie girl (see?!) headed up to Canton Hill, which overlooks the city. It's got some great views. We took a bunch of food up there and had a nice picnic. It was cool because it was intimate, which is something I mentioned missing in my homesick post. It was nice to just sit and chat and take it easy. That night we played cards again and had a slightly quieter night out at the pubs. It got kind of weird though when a couple of Scottish guys came into our little table alcove to escape the loud music that had been playing. One of the guys, Jimmy, was massive...he made me look short and skinny. The other guy was a smaller guy, very quiet looking. Anyways, they took a liking to us and chatted us up for an hour or two. They were funny guys, but a little off kilter. Jimmy, the big one, was really into conspiracy theories, and would talk your ear off about the Illuminati or whatever the hell else he was on about. The smaller one (forget his name) actually gave me a book and made me promise to either read it or give it to good will. Then he mentioned something about the peace corps and that's when things got awkward. He started on a bit of a rant about how we were just basically taking a holiday (well...yeah...nobody said otherwise) and how we should be spending our time in third world countries (“the dark continent” as he referred to it), helping them with our advanced skills and to quit wasting our time being around other white people. It got really awkward because by the end he was just shouting a bunch of white guilt type stuff. I was tempted to ask why his white ass was sitting in a bar talking to white tourists instead of digging irrigation ditches somewhere, but Jimmy's size kind of prevented that. I'm all for helping others in need, but I'm not presumptuous enough to assume that I can just buy a plane ticket to Africa and solve all their problems with a combination of my awesome white presence and my Bachelor of Arts degree. Anyways, we finished off our drinks and got the hell out of there.

My friends took off by Friday, so I spent the next couple days further exploring the city and even did a 3 hour walking tour. My favourite part of that was when I said the word “toque” to the Canadian tour guide, she hugged me. See? It's the little things that reminds somebody of home.

So where to next? I'm currently on the train, bound for Liverpool. I'll be meeting up with a friend from Canada, Mandy, who has been living over in England for the last year or two. We'll travel around Northern England for a week, and then I'll be heading down to London for the weekend to meet up with Liz, Dan, and Hayley again for some more pub crawls there. The NFL just happens to be playing a game in London on Sunday too...what a coincidence! I figure that'll be a lovely day to see the famed Wembley stadium. Not sure if I'll get a ticket though since there aren't many good ones left for sale. Perhaps though. After that is anybody's guess.

I had a blast in Edinburgh...if you're going to the UK, don't miss it!

PS...believe it or not, the book the crazy guy lent me is actually really good so far...I've only had it for a few days but I've already read over 200 pages.

Addendum: I've arrived in Liverpool after a much longer/harder day of travel than originally anticipated. Due to my connecting train to Liverpool not running for some mysterious and unannounced reason, I had to take a charter bus through about 6 towns I didn't particularly care to see, and then got dropped off at another train station, where I had to wait for a train that was running 50 mins late and full of likewise not so happy customers. Ah well I'm here now in the birthplace of the Beatles.

Sick of sickness

Sorry for lagging on a new post. As you could probably tell from the lack of energy/effort put into the last post, I was pretty damned sick. I'm still not actually 100%, but I'm feeling much better. Unfortunately this means I don't have a whole lot of good stories to share with you since I barely left the hostel in the last week. Unless of course you want detailed descriptions of the pharmacy or perhaps my mucous levels? I'll spare you.
The problem with being sick in a hostel, even with something as simple as a cold, is that there's none of the comforts of home to help you get better. Your sleep is at the mercy of other people's schedules and there's nowhere to just simply curl up and hide like you need to do sometimes. So the cold has lingered and kicked my ass. Being sick and stuck inside has, I must admit, made me rather homesick. When you're constantly on the move, seeing sites, meeting new people, etc, you don't have much time to think of home except for perhaps...man this is way cooler than home! So coming to a crashing halt like this has made me realise what I've been missing that much more. So I figure since I don't have many good stories to share with you, I'll share a list of things I miss about home. Don't get me wrong...this isn't some poor me emo trip...I'm still so grateful to be able to be on this adventure and I know how lucky I am to be doing what I'm doing. It's just something that's been on my mind lately, so I figure I'll share. That said, here's what I miss:

• Friends and family. 'nuff said.
• Privacy. Pretty straightforward... living in 8-16 bed dorms, shared bathrooms, common kitchens, etc means you're rarely by yourself, and when you are, it's never for too long.
• Having a "homebase". I never really realised how important this was to me until losing it (as is usually the case, isn't it?). Just having somewhere that belongs to you and only you. Could be as simple as closing your bedroom door to the world on a bad day or your spot on the couch in front of the tv. Living out of a bag pretty much negates this.
• Familiarity of surroundings. I can't think of anything that quite matches the combination of emotions (disorienting/thrilling/scary) that occurs when walking out of the bus or train station in a new city and trying to figure out where the hell you're going. I experience this this once or twice a week. And then just when you start to gain your bearings, you take off again to do it all over again!
• Intimacy. I'm not talking in a sexual way...I'm talking about having interactions with people that moves beyond the superficial level. It's kind of like the Narrator's theory in Fight Club about people you meet on planes...they're single serving friends. I've met some really cool people, but you know you'll likely never see them again after a few days, so you keep conversations simple and light... you don't grow attached.
• The little things. Haven't been able to find proper chicken noodle soup at all. No NyQuil over here from what I can tell. I still have no friggin clue which way to look first before crossing the street. That type of thing. That's not to say Canada is better because it has stuff the UK doesn't...It's just that you get used to these things that are in your culture and don't even think about them being absent in another culture.
• My effin bed! Not gonna lie... my bed is awesome. It's the perfect mix of comfort and support. That's what Angelina Jolie keeps telling me anyways. So sleeping in hard bunk beds designed for people about a half-foot shorter than me has been a bit of a shock to my system. Most of my friends know how much I love my tv...but I'd have to say...if I could only salvage one or the other from a fire, I'd probably go for the bed. That's how much I love it. Although that would be a pretty slow burning fire if I had enough time to grab the mattress, frame, and box spring. I'd probably just work on putting out the fire to save everything.
• Football. What more can I say? Bills are terrible this year, but who cares...I'd still love to be watching the games every Sunday!

So that's it for my list. Hopefully reading this will make you appreciate a little bit more the things we take for granted. I'm moving on to a new hostel in an hour or two. Still staying in Edinburgh, I'm just switching hostels. I figure I've gained the reputation as the weird quiet guy who is always in the common room and blowing his nose/clearing his throat. May as well start fresh now that I'm up for interacting with people and going out again. I took a walk yesterday to find my next hostel, which Arty recommended. And if there's one person who is reliable when it comes to travelling, it's Arty. If there's anybody you would want to trust something important with to not lose (such as a Monday Night Football Bill's ticket...for example), he is definitely the man! He would never ever lose something like a Bills ticket 2 hours before kickoff. Nope, not Arty...too reliable. Anyways, on my walk there yesterday, I found a nice little farmer's market where I bought some fruits and veggies, as well as a bison burger. I was tempted to try the Venison Haggis, but I figure I should try the real stuff first. Finding the market kind of gave me the boost I needed, reminding me that it'll be worth it to get out again and explore now that I'm better since I never know what I'm going to find.

One last note...the blog has been up for just under a month and I already have over 1000 pageviews. And I'm pretty sure at least 150 of those pageviews are people other than my mother, checking up on me every hour. Just wanted to say thanks to everybody for taking the time to check in and see what's up with me... I would have never guessed I had so many people who cared!

Glasgow

Luckily for you, this one's going to be a little less long-winded because I'm under the weather. I had a good time in Glasgow. My first night there, I met up with Caetano, who is my mother's colleague's daughter's husband. Simple, right? He was a cool guy and gave me some good tips for the city. The following day was spent exploring the city and seeing some sites. There's a nice park a few minutes away from the hostel, so it was nice to stroll through there. That night I made friends with a Canadian, Adriane, who lives in Kingston, which is practically right next door! We played flip cup with some Aussies and the hostel employee on duty at the time, James. The aussies eventually took off, only to be replaced by a few german guys who were fun to drink with. All in all a good night. The next day Adriane and I set off to find the Baras market, which Caetano had told me about. If you want to imagine what the Baras market was like, imagine a flea market but take away the class and cleanliness. It was a good time though strolling the booths and finding the random crap that people were selling. That night we had a few more drinks with a Scotsman and an Aussie, which was a good time as well. On Sunday Adriane took off for Belfast and I went wandering around the city again. I went to the Kelvingrove Museum, which is an odd collection of art and artifacts... you'll find a stuffed elephant and an airplane hanging from the ceiling in the same room. I went back out that night with the Scotsman and Aussie along with a couple of French girls who seemed to appreciate somebody actually being able to (barely) speak their language in these parts. They pretended like I spoke French well in return. We had a great time out despite the crappiness of the live music we were listening too. They even convinced me to stay an extra day in Glasgow, as I had been planning to leave on Monday. Unfortunately when I woke up Monday, our plans of having a big day together were quickly shot... I woke up with a terrible sore throat and the rest of the fun that comes along with a cold. I spent all of Monday in bed aside from going to get some soup for dinner in hopes of making a quick recovery. Being abroad and alone while sick is no fun... I expect to be babied dammit! Ah well. I got up this morning and decided I may as well get moving on, so I caught the bus to Edinburgh. Just got to the hostel about an hour ago. Hopefully I'll be feeling better for the next post and put a bit more effort into it. Until then!

If you're on the shore, then you're sure not me-o

Hello again. I've had quite the week, so let's jump right into it! The hostel I was staying at in Belfast offers a free day tour of the Giant's Causeway, the Carrick-a-Rede bridge, and Derry, so I decided to do that on monday, and then just get off the bus in Derry for a few days. A free ride's a free ride right? The only problem was the bus driver was pretty cheesy, telling the same crappy jokes he obviously tells everyday. And man did he push having lunch at one particular restaurant. I say this without exaggeration...he repeated the same thing about lunch at the restaurant a minimum of 10 times within 2 hours. It became a bit of a running joke with my friend Dylan (the brit who came on the black taxi tour as mentioned previously). “Know anywhere good for lunch?” “I heard there was good lunch there. Oh yeah, where'd you hear that?” He was obviously getting at least a free meal out of it, if not more. Ah well. We started with the bridge, which has some amazing views along the path to it. It's a big rope bridge about 100 feet above the sea that leads to a little island. It was originally built by fishermen so they could cast nets off the island. It was a bit of a rip off to pay for crossing the bridge, but it was still pretty cool... it's very high up and the rope sways, so it's definitely not for the feint of heart! Next it was onto the giant's causeway, which has some corny folklore behind it, but really it's on a coast where volcanic eruptions occurred a long time ago, and formed some really cool rocks and formations. Very impressive. Then it was on to Derry. The group did a walking tour but I skipped out and set off for my Derry hostel.

If ever you're in Derry, go to the Derry City Independent Hostel... cleanest hostel I've ever stayed in. It was basically somebody's house, so it had lots of character, with plenty of cool decorations and a really nice atmosphere. I was planning on having a quiet night in for my first night, but the guy running the hostel came in and said a bunch of folks were going out, so out we went. Hit up a small pub with a couple guys who were playing some traditional folk/rebel music, which was awesome. And then the Irish carbomb happened. Not the drink... an actual car bomb. It went off around midnight when we were still out. It wasn't really close to the pub thankfully... about an 8 minute drive away. Naturally, hearing this, I became a little nervous at first, but it seemed to be pretty much business as usual for most of the locals. If something like that happened in Ottawa, the city would be shut down for days I think. So I decided to not worry about it since it seemed to be more about making a statement and disrupting business (it went off outside a bank) than it was about harming people.

The next morning I met up with one of the girls who had been out the night before, Danit who was from Israel (look at me Dana!), and we went out on the Free Derry walking tour. This is run out of a small museum and it takes you along the road where Bloody Sunday occurred, which is essentially what kicked the troubles into high gear for the next 30 years. There are some murals with stories behind them. The guide for this tour was incredible. He had spent 7 years in jail for being a member of the IRA, possession of explosives, and suspicion of assassinating a British soldier. He didn't really confirm that last part, but he wasn't really denying it either. Regardless, the subject matter was obviously very personal to him, which made the tour fascinating and authentic. If you don't know much about bloody sunday, the troubles, or Derry-Londonderry (I admittedly didn't know much before coming here), I highly recommend reading up on it...very fascinating stuff. Even the name of the city is contentious... the English helped build a wall around the city a few centuries ago in order to help the loyalists fend off the Irish, and in return, demanded that the city be renamed Londonderry. So the republicans and unionists call it Derry on one side of town, and the loyalists call it londonderry on the other. You can give yourself away just by referring it to the wrong way on the wrong side of town...and apparently catch an ass whooping.

After the tour Danit and I walked around the town for a while and then took another walking tour along the walls. There was a lot of overlapped info from what we had learned in the morning, and this tour guide was crappy. He was just kind of on autopilot, reading from the script, telling the same corny jokes much in the same manner as the bus driver. At least this one didn't recommend a place to eat lunch. I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the city and then finally had that quiet night in. We watched a movie in the common room with some popcorn and wine which was a good way to unwind after a long day. One funny note...when we were in the common room, the guy running the hostel came back into the room after talking to a couple guests and told me the guy who I was sharing a room with (rudely, apparently) requested a room change for the night because I had been snoring all night. I blame the Guinness! I feel for the guy, because having spent the last couple weeks in hostels, I know how brutal it is to be kept up by snorers...there's always at least one. Ah well...I got the room to myself, so I wasn't too heartbroken. He didn't realise though that I had befriended the hostel employee, so apparently he stuck up for me and almost kicked the guy out.

So the next day, Wednesday I suppose, I chilled in Derry for the day and the caught the bus back to Belfast. I returned to the same hostel I had been staying at because I had got to know a couple of the guests as well as the employees. When I returned, Sarah, who works there told me they were roasting a chicken with all the fixins and invited me to join them for dinner. This was a perfect end to a long day of travel...the meal was absolutely spectacular. I haven't eaten that well since I left Canada. Living on the cheap in hostels means a lot of pastas, soups, and sandwiches. So eating chicken, roasted potatoes, veggies, gravy, and stuffing was so good for the soul. I had also been bummed out because I had forgotten this coming weekend is Thanksgiving until my mom emailed me and said the whole family would be over on Sunday. I was sorry to miss it, so I guess this is next best thing. My favourite part was the yorkshire pudding. I haven't had that since my nana used to make it, and that would have been at least 10 years ago or so. So it was awesome being reminded of dinner at my nana and grandpa's place, who have both since passed away. No cabbage salad (family in-joke), but beggars can't be choosers! We finished it off with Banoffee pie, which I'd never had before but will definitely have again... extremely tasty.

So I'm off to Scotland right now. I'm currently writing this on the ferry (insert “I'm on a boat” jokes here) to Strenraer, then taking the train up to Glasgow, where I'll stay at least until the weekend. Until next time. Happy thanksgiving to all my Canadian peeps...have an extra slice of turkey for me!

Pictures: Rope Bridge and Giant's Causeway and Derry

So this happened last night

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-foyle-west-11473586
I was in a pub when it happened, about 45 minutes, walking distance away. not to worried about it though. Nobody around seems to be anyways. I get the impression the town's been through much worse. Car bombs aside though, Londonderry's a pretty cool place. Lots of history. I'll go into more detail about it all later. Like there was any doubt.

Belfast Times

I arrived in Belfast on Thursday and was rather tired from having spent a minimum of 3 hours per day in transit over the previous 3 days, so I stayed in for the most part. My hostel was right near Belfast's Queens University, which meant lots of people (read: girls) around my age in the area, which was fun. On my first night there, I decided to check to see if there happened to be any rugby happening in the area in the weekend, and sure enough, there was a match the following night, Friday. So I booked a ticket. As I was clicking “confirm” I happened to hear another guest at the hostel say they were in town for the hockey game. Saying “hockey game” in earshot of a Canadian abroad is kind of like shaking a box of dog treats in earshot of a dog. I went to find this angelic voice and enquire what she was talking about. Turns out that the Boston Bruins are in town for an exhibition match tonight. (I'm writing this on Saturday, but won't get the chance to post it until Sunday, when I get WiFi access again, so if my times and tenses seem off, that's why). I went online to check it out, but unfortunately the tickets are very pricey (remember that taxi ride I freaked out about in the last post? A single nosebleed seat costs more than that). I figure I can go see the bruins play the Sens any time in Ottawa, when it actually counts for something, for cheaper, and when I actually have an income. Besides, I had rugby to keep my sports appetite sated!

So on Friday I spent most of the day exploring Belfast by foot. It's a beautiful city, and in my opinion, much cleaner and better looking than Dublin. In the evening I made my way over to Ravenhill Stadium to check out the Ulster Vs Glasgow match. Ulster is northern province in which Belfast resides, so Ulster is basically the Belfast team. It was a lot of fun! The stadium was smaller than I was expecting...maybe a 12000 seat capacity tops. But it was a great time, and the small size gave it a bit more of an intimate feel. It reminded more of a roughrider/renegade game at Lansdowne than say a Bills game. Having received a crash course in the rules of rugby the week previous, I had a general understanding of how the game went, but I'd be lying if I said I understood all of it. That didn't take away from my enjoyment though, since I had a blast watching the game and experiencing the crowd. I even learned the official team song: something something something something...something Ulstermen! A couple other quirks I noticed, for those interested in the cultural differences in sports: the first is that despite the rough nature of the game, rugby is very much a gentlemen's sport. The crowd goes completely silent (you'll get shushed) when either team is lining up for a field goal (I don't know what it's actually called, but it's field goal-like). And then the crowd will clap for both teams after every attempt, whether they make it or not. That's a far cry from american football, where the entire stadium does its best to make as much noise as possible to distract the other team. The other quirk was the crowd here chants for the home team much in the same way do to taunt the opposing team...slowly drawing it out (daaaarrrelllll). I know about 80% of my readers won't care about that last bit, but those sorts of differences are what interest me when I watch foreign sports.

The game was over by 9:30 so I made my way back to the hostel to grab a beer and possibly head back out to a pub. I ended up staying in the common room, having a couple drinks with some of the other guests. There was a Nova Scotian couple (believe it or not, but the first canadians I've met that I know of on this trip) who had biked across the states and then flew over here to visit family. There was also a German girl, and an American. We had a great time chatting and swapping travel stories and comparing our home country's customs (I always wondered what Nova Scotians ate). All in all a good time.

The whole point in talking about that little gathering was that I learned from the German girl that she and a couple other guests at the hostel were going to be doing a black taxi tour the following morning. The tours are given by taxi drivers who have been in the area a long time and know the history of “the troubles”. It costs a flat rate, so the more people you can get in the car, the more it's split up. I jumped on the opportunity and agreed to go with them. So the following morning 4 of us (me, the German, an Aussie, and a Brit) took the tour. If ever you are in Belfast, it is well worth the time and money...one of the best “touristy” things I've ever done. Our driver, George, was extremely knowledgeable, accommodating, and friendly. He took us all through the neighbourhoods on both the Protestant and the Catholic sides. It's been 12 years since the peace agreement was signed, but the signs of divide are still very much present. There's a giant fence/wall that goes through the middle of the town (I thought it was ironic that it was called the peace wall) that separates them. What makes the tour so interesting is that there are all sorts of murals along the walls on both sides and much of the tour is spent explaining the meaning behind the murals, which gives you a great history on all of the conflict that took place for over 30 years (the short of it...the protestant side wanted to be part of the UK, the Catholic/Republican side wanted to be independent of English rule and be part of the republic of Ireland). The tour lasted about 80 minutes. At the end he dropped us off in front of a library that had a great display of the political posters that had been created over the years. The German girl didn't have much interest in that so she took off.

On our way back to the hostel, the Aussie mentioned that he wanted to go to a pub to catch a game of Aussie Rules Football. Apparently it was the equivalent of the super bowl game, so of course I told him I'd join him. The Brit came too. Again, believe it or not, we had a great time. Rugby on Friday night, then Aussie Rules Football Saturday afternoon, and if I wasn't so cheap, I'd be going to a hockey game tonight! I'm gonna try my best to catch an NFL game tomorrow night too to see if I can press my luck ;)

So that's all I've got to say for now. I'm planning on staying in Belfast until Monday, when I'll do a tour of the Giant's Causeway (my hostel does it for free) and probably hop off the bus in Derry for a couple nights. Thanks for reading. Here are some blurry pictures of rugby and some better pictures of the Black Taxi Tour and political posters. Later!

*Editor's note from Sunday morning...met a couple fun guys at the hostel last night...one, Arden, a Canadian who has been living in Ireland for the last 8 years and his Irish friend Mike from high school. They were in Belfast for the hockey game, and we ended up going out after it. Really funny guys and we had some fun over a few pints. They actually got Shawn Thornton's autograph the next morning cause we were in a cafe that was right next to the Bruins' hotel. Thanks for the good night out fellas!

Kindess of strangers

This is gonna be another long once since I'm writing it on the bus to my next destination and there's a few hours to kill. I've got lots to say (what else is new?) so I may as well go chronologically.

After publishing my last post, I ended up having a great time in Dublin. Go figure, right? My last night there was by far the best. I ended up in the common room of the hostel in the evening to use my netbook to plan a few things for my trip to the west coast, and there was some rugby on tv. Naturally this drew a few guys into the room, and I was soon getting a crash course in rugby 101. It's great to see that male-bonding via sports isn't only a North American phenomenon! A few of us hit it off, so we decided to make our way to a pub. It was me, a German guy, and an Irish guy who said he had found some pub on the other side of town that had good music. Turns out it was a rock/metal pub. There was a terrible Black Sabbath cover band playing, and I think we were the only 3 people in there without long hair and/or multiple piercings and tattoos. Needless to say it was a blast. We rocked out to the terrible music, wincing every 30 seconds or so when the feedback would whine. Turns out punk rock Irish girls think that straight-laced Canadian boys are fun to try to corrupt. I declined their generous offer to tattoo me (you're welcome mom!). When the pub closed we headed back to the hostel, grabbing some late night chips on the way home. All in all, I had plenty of fun, just when I had given up on Dublin.

The following day I made my way to the west coast by bus and experienced my first semi-big fuck up. There were a couple hiccups along the way on the bus, but nothing that some patience couldn't fix. However, when I got to what I thought was my destination, it turned out that my hostel was another 25 miles away. Being Sunday evening in a small town, there were no more buses running, so I had to take a taxi. I don't like to talk about money much, but the fact is, when you're travelling for as long as I am, you have to keep a close eye on your finances. I've got my budget broken down by month and by day so that I know exactly how much I'm spending vs how much I have left. The taxi ride alone cost more than my entire day's budget. At first I was angry, frustrated and stressed about this, but I eventually calmed down. I know it's not all going to be smooth sailing, so if the worst that happens to me is overspending for transportation, then I'll be laughing. Also, luckily, I had stayed well under my daily budget during my first week in Dublin, so I'll likely end up breaking even for the month anyways. Anyways, I arrived at my hostel finally after about 7 hours on the road and checked in. I went up to my room and saw that there were no bags or unmade beds. I was hoping that nobody else would end up in my room that night so I could sleep without having to hear anybody snore for once. Turns out I didn't have to worry, since I figured out the next day that not only was I the only person staying in my room, I was the only person staying in the whole hostel. I did what any young man who's been on the road for a while would do with all this privacy... I washed my socks and underwear in the bathtub and left them hang drying in the bathroom! Cause I'm gansta like that.

Monday might have been my favourite day yet on my trip. The hostel was in a small town called Miltown Malbay, and is only a mile or two from the ocean. I decided to walk down to the water and see what there was to see. Turns out there was a very nice beach there called Spanish Point. I walked along the beach for a while, but decided that wasn't adventurous enough for me, so I walked along the rocks that were to the right of the beach for as far as I could. I must have walked along them for at least 30 minutes before I had to turn back. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do since I almost slipped and broke my ankle/neck about a half-dozen times, but I survived. On my way out, I decided to sit and rest and watch the water for a bit. After a few minutes a little old lady who had been walking with her scruffy little dog along the water came up to leave, and the dog came right over to me to be pet. I asked the woman about her dog, and after 5 minutes of conversation, she invited me back to her place for lunch. Her tone wasn't even a “I know I'm being nice” tone, it was just a genuine “are you coming or what” tone. I was floored. So I hopped in her car with her and her dog (turns out it was actually named Scruffy) and we went to her cottage. She was an awesome person, had lots of stories, and was as bit of a globetrotter herself. She'd even been to Ottawa back in 1955. So she made me a big plate of curry and rice, gave me a guiness, and we talked. My favourite moment was when she was asking me about my family. I told her my sister had just become a nun, and this lady who couldn't have been younger than 80 gave a weird look and said “oh my, swearing off sex for your entire life? I could never do that!” I didn't know whether to blush or give her a high five. She offered me a ride back to town after lunch, but I told her I could wait since I knew she had to go into town a little later for a doctor's appointment anyways. I said I'd take a walk to stay out of her way in the meantime, so she gave me directions to this really cool cemetery down the road from her. There were gravestones that were over 150 years old in there...very beautiful with all the Celtic crosses. So she dropped me off in town and I said goodbye and promised to keep in touch (she gave me her business card...she's a painter and author of children's books). So why is having lunch with an old lady so memorable and worthy of a long-ass paragraph you may be asking yourself? I've always thought it's the people you meet who make travelling so special. In 10 years from now, I won't remember what the beach looked like or probably even the name of the town, but I'll definitely remember Jennifer, the sweet, yet slightly dirty-minded grandma who took me in for lunch and told me stories of wartime England.

The following day I went to see the Cliffs of Moher. I booked my hostel because it was only 25 km or so from them, so shouldn't be a big problem getting there, right? Wrong. There's only one bus that leaves Miltown the entire day, and it leaves at 8:30 in the morning. So I made sure to get up early to catch it. It was me and about 50 school kids, since they all take the public bus to the various schools in the area. This bus dropped me off in a town halfway to the cliffs, called Lahynch (sp?). Turns out the only bus to the cliffs leave Lahynch at 11, so I had a couple hours to kill. It was pouring rain so I just ducked into the nearest restaurant to sip a coffee as I read. I eventually caught the bus and went to the cliffs. They were absolutely spectacular. The only problem is your visibility when you're at the cliffs is weather-dependant. When i got there it was still raining and kind of foggy, but still clear enough to see the cliffs and get some decent pictures. Within about 30 minutes though the visibility was reduced to zero and you couldn't see a single cliff. Luckily just before I was leaving, it cleared up and I could see further than ever...turns out there was a whole extra cliff that I couldn't see the first time! I took the bus back to Lahynch, and of course had to wait a couple more hours for the bus to Miltown so I decided to explore the town and take advantage of the sunny weather. I'm really glad I did. Turns out Lahynch is a surfer town, as there's a huge beach with big waves. It was less than 5 minutes from the restaurant I had my coffee at in the morning, and I would have never seen it had it not been for the long wait for the bus, so I guess it was a blessing in disguise. No old ladies or free lunch this time, just a great view and some sun.

Well, I guess I've gone on way too long already. I'm actually heading back to Dublin right now. I wanted to move North along the West Coast, but it's just too difficult since the buses are so sporadic out here. I'll stay in Dublin tonight and then head up to Belfast tomorrow. Thanks for sticking all the way through this post (or scrolling down to see if I posted any pictures). As a reward, here are some pictures of Spanish Point and the cemetery, and the Cliffs of Moher and the Lahynch beach. Til next time!

Dublin Down

Hello from Dublin! Lots of people have been asking for more blog so here it is. Dublin's been good so far, but I wouldn't call it great. I had a tough time with the jetlag/adjusting to the different time (5 hours ahead of Ottawa) for the first few days. I didn't sleep on the plane, so getting around Dublin on zero sleep was an interesting experience. Funnily enough, I booked my hostel based on price, and had no clue where it was before I showed up. Turns out it's literally a stone's throw (I didn't actually try throwing a stone, but even Trent Edwards could do it) away from the hostel I stayed at during my last trip to Dublin. So at least I knew the neighbourhood. I slept most of the first afternoon I was here as well as the entire night, and most of the next day. Since then, I've unfortunately struggled with getting a full night's sleep, often waking up at around 3 or 4 am without being able to fall back asleep. Ah well, you're not here to read my troubles though, so let's move on.
Dublin's a fun city, but there's only so much you can see on a budget. I think I've managed to find a decent balance between enjoying myself and not spending all my money too early. Some things I've done:

• Taken lots of walks through the city, down the Liffey, by Temple Bar, and just about everywhere else
• Ducked into various pubs for a pint. My favourite pub so far is a small one that's about 4 blocks away from my hostel, named Malloy's. Very quaint with lots of characters. Listening to the regulars bust eachothers chops about soccer, etc as I read a book or an Irish rag and sip a Guinness brings a smile out of me every time.
• Took a walking tour of Trinity College and saw the Book of Kells
• Saw the museum of art and history, mainly the history side. They have a great exhibition on the history of the Irish military and the various conflicts that have happened here (there's been a couple for those non-history buffs). Highly recommended. I've got a few photos in the album below but had to stop because I got scolded for taking pictures. I didn't know that I couldn't, I swear!
• Strolled around Phoenix park - a beautiful gem hidden away from the busy city centre.

My time in Dublin comes to an end on Sunday. I'm looking forward to moving on to the countryside, to see something new. I'll be heading out to Ennis, which is on the west coast, to see the Cliffs of Moher. Hope everyone back home is doing well. Please feel free to email me or leave a comment below, I love hearing from everybody.

As promised, here are my pictures so far: The Hockey HOF and Dublin.

And as a bonus, I didn't say "shit" once in this blog, Julie! ...ah shit

There's no crying in hockey!

Fair warning, this blog is being written at a swiss chalet in the Pearson airport because I've got lots of time to kill. So it's probably gonna be a windy one. And a little emo. If you're only reading this to find out about my drunken bar fights, missing trains in Switzerland, getting lost in slovenia, and other such travel adventures, I'd suggest skipping this one and waiting for the next post.
The trip's no longer a matter of months, weeks, or even days away. It's now only 5 hours away...assuming the flight's on time.
I'd like to expand on a subject I mentioned briefly in my first email...support from family and friends. It means a whole helluva lot to me. Saying goodbye to pretty much everybody I know for the last two weeks straight has been tough. It made me realise how many people I'm going to be leaving behind/missing over the next year (ok, 10-11 months, but let's just say a year. Don't be difficult). However, on the positive side, it's also made me realise how much support I have from everybody and how great my life truly is. Regardless of what happens on this trip, I know I'll be coming back home to a great bunch of people. I'm not going to single many people out, because seeing everybody has been great, but I would like to mention a couple groups.
The first is my parents. They were kind enough to drive me down to toronto for my flight. Mentioning this courtesy is like pointing out a drop of water in the ocean....their generosity and unwavering dedication to having my back (I need a thesaurus cause I can't think of another way to say support) not only for this trip, but for life in general means more to me than I could ever express in words. Hugging my mom goodbye was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do in my entire life. It got pretty emotional. And by that, I mean I cried like a little schoolgirl. Thanks mom and dad. I have no idea where I'd be without your love and support, but I do know that I sure as shit wouldn't be sitting in an airport waiting to take off on this journey. Sorry for swearing.
The other gang I'd like to mention is the guys. No crying here, except for Delage when I whooped him at hockey for one last time. Hanging out with the guys for my last night in Ottawa, having beers, playing video games, and trash talking was the perfect send off. nothing fancy, nothing special...just the guys being the guys. Can't wait to do it again when I get back... I figure a year should be long enough for Delage to practice and become a little less garbage. Dingaling!
To everybody else, please don't be offended that I didn't mention you...I could spend the entire flight writing about how great all my friends are and I still wouldn't have covered the half of it.
Ok, so I guess I've got one travel story. I did my first sightseeing today. My pops and I went to the hockey hall of fame. I highly recommend it for anybody who's into the game and in Toronto. We spent about 2 hours there, but could have easily spent another hour or 2 there if we didn't have to go. I've got pictures, which I'll post soon enough. Shitty story, I know. I'll try to do better in Dublin. Until then, stay classy Canada. Bye!

PS here's a dorky picture of me, leaving for the airport. Well first I had to put the camera back in my bag, but then I left for the airport.

Hello and farewell

Welcome to my mediocre-at-best blog! Thanks for taking an interest in my travels, it's awesome to know that I've got support from my friends and family (and any rando's that don't know me, but came across this site somehow) as I sojourn through Europe. This blog will be my way of sharing my experiences with everybody. I'll try to update it as regularly as possible, depending on the availability of internet access, the amount of cool shit that occurs that is blog-worthy, and how much I feel like writing while on this trip. That reminds me...there'll be some occasional salty language, sarcasm, and injections of my admittedly odd sense of humour. If that's not your cup of tea, feel free to take your internet perusing elsewhere. There's plenty of better blogs, more interesting websites, funnier videos of slightly off-kilter people who have been autotuned, etc that you'll enjoy more. Go ahead...nobody will blame you. In fact, come to think of it, most of the internet is probably better than this blog. What the hell are we still doing here?!

Anyways, back from my little rant. So I'm starting in Dublin. I'll be flying the red eye Monday and getting into Dublin Tuesday morning. It's weird finally having the trip set in stone. For the last few months, since I decided to do this trip, I've had absolutely zero logistics worked out. I thought this would be a fun way of doing the trip. What I didn't anticipate is having to answer "I don't know" every time somebody wanted to ask me about my trip. This happened roughly 94,534 times since I let people know I was going. I consider myself very fortunate to have so many people in my life that care about me enough to enquire about my trip. However, this got to be very repetitive and slightly frustrating. So, I no longer have no logistics worked out. I have one!
I figure the best way to get to the point of this initial post is to answer the most common questions I've been asked about my trip.

• Where are you starting? Dublin, pay attention.
• Where do you want to go while you're there? Anywhere and everywhere. I'll try lots of different places across the continent, and if I like a particular place, I'll stay a little longer. once I'm ready to get moving, I'll get moving.
• Are you going to work while you're there? Yes, but just here and there for room and board or perhaps a bit of travelling cash.
• Why are you so handsome? I just can't help it Matt
• Did you quit your job? No, I took a leave of absence from work. My supervisors were very understanding when I requested this, and I really appreciate their support.
• How long are you going for? I'm aiming for the end of July, but who knows how long I'll be able to stretch the money for. Regardless, I'm due back at work in August 2011.
• Are you going alone? Yes. Although I do hope that friends come out to visit me and that I meet new people to travel with.
• And perhaps the biggest one of them all: Why? Don't say revenge. Eat, pray, love changed my life. In short, I don't know why. I love to travel, so this was just something I wanted to do. I have a feeling I'll be better able to answer "why" when I get back.

So I guess that's it for my inaugural post. I'll try to update it as much as possible. If you catch me slacking, drop me a line and tell me to post more. This is my way of interacting with you, so don't be shy in posting comments (while keeping in mind that my mom and colleagues will be reading this), asking questions, giving tips on where to go next, or just to say hi.

See you later!