The Secret of the Ooze (April 17th)

With Rome in the rear view mirror, if a train had one, Jordan and I set out to a Renaissance land: Florence, Italy. A place that harbored the artistic vision of greats like Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, and Donatello (Turtle Power!). Something must have been in the water...or maybe the sewers????

None of this was in Jordan and I’s pool of knowledge as we set foot in this city, neither was knowing a place to stay! But see our ‘good friend’ Katy Bird (more on her in coming days) was suppose to let us know where she would be staying as she had a dress walking down the run way in a fashion show that evening in Florence. But alas after many attempts, NOTHING from her.

So Jordan and I do what we do best…wander.

Eventually we got a hostel. We checked in and found TWO blonde haired Aussie chicks (that is Australian for you Northern Hemisphere Separatist out there). And they happened to be TWINS!! This of course would be great news for Jordan and I if these two facts were true:

1) We were single.
2) If they were twin Christianas!

But alas, neither was true, so we just had nice conversations with them instead.

Of course, I speak tongue and cheek; they were a lot of fun and cool accents as well.

Now on with the story. Jordan and I walked around the streets of Florence and stumped upon what is the biggest outdoor leather market I will probably ever see. For blocks and blocks the streets are lined with legitimate (and illegitimate) street venders waiting to play their best Monte Hall part in the game of “Let’s Make a Deal.”

Jordan found a wallet he wanted. So he went once to look at it. Waited about ten minutes and went to look at it, thinking that now he could haggle with the guy, but didn’t. Then a half hour later, went back a third time, ready this time to haggle the price down from 14 Euro.

That is when the vendor says to him, “You have already been here 3 times.” Jordan had lost all the power. But with his amazing charisma and wit, he was able to talk the guy all the way down to 13 Euros!!

After this amazing example of male fortitude, Jordan and I decided to keep wandering and not stand in line to see Michangelo's David as we would go tomorrow instead in the morning.

Lets skip to the night life.

As you may recall from our pervious blogs, Jordan and I tore up France with our Salsa dancing. Well, now it was time to tear up Italy with our Clubbin skills!

It took us a while to get to the club as we made the mistake of following two drunk New York Frat Dawgs (that is Fraternaity boys for my mom who is reading this) who were convinced that they knew where they were going. Anywho, once at the club, Jordan and I passed on the €8.50 drinks and just headed to the dance floor to get our groove on.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank Jesse (one half of the Aussie Twins), Andy (from the OC), and Mary (from Florida) for sticking by Jordan and I as we perfectly excuted the white man's over bit while dancing in a way that would make Mary Shelly proud.

Quick side story: Drunk Candian girl was so wasted that she started making out with NY Frat Dawg #1 then switched to NY Frat Dawg #2 (who were brothers by the way) then I saw her with some other guy in the corner...and I bet she doesn't remember a thing...good luck to her.

Well, after a few akward flat footed dance moves, it was time for us to head back to the hostel. And to our groups delight, Tiger Woods and Christopher Kensington (Jordan and I's English Alter Egos) gave a walking tour of the Florence. I bet you all wish you could have been there.

We were glad we were.

___________
Gelato Count
Scott - 7
Jordan - 7

The Great Gelato Competition (April 16th)

Spent a good chunck of last night figuring out exactly where we're headed after this. All we could figure out was that we are leaving Rome tomorrow morning and heading to Florence for a day or so.

Today we had no agenda and we followed it to a T by pretty much not doing anything interesting all day. Walked down by the Coliseum again because it's just so tempting to make the 15 minute walk down there. Such history!

We grabbed our 4th consecutive pizza and gelato lunch...pretty hard to beat.

Wow, I'm really struggling to make today interesting.

Ummmm..........we took a nap.

Nope, that didn't make it more interesting.

Ummmm........we went to the train station to figure out when to leave tomorrow.

Bah! Still not interesting.

We headed to dinner around 5:30 and decided to walk to find a new and interesting place. We walked east for about a mile and half, didn't find anything (part of the reason was because some restaurants didn't open until 7:00 and we didn't want to wait around). We then decided to head back towards the apartment and hopefully find something on the way. Well, we finally did...half a block away from Katy's apartment.

Somehow the quaint little restaurants we are looking for hide from us. Oh well.

After dinner, we headed to the gelatteria. Now in case you haven't been paying attention, Scott and I have been having a competition to see who eats the most gelato while in Italy. I was up 1 for the longest time, but now Scott is up 1 after I recovered yesterday. Today, Scott was particularly full after our dinner, but he didn't lead on as he matched me 4 scoops to 4 scoops. Slumped and breathing heavy trying to finish his gelato, I sensed my opportunity.

After I was done, I snuck around back and ordered another 2 scoops. Scott shreaks with amazement! I was taking the lead back!

Victoriously feasting on my pineapple and orange gelato, I knew Scott didn't have a gelato's chance in hell of recovering. But this man was not to be outdone.

In a truly Rockyesque performance, Scott swept himself off the mat and threw down the hammer by ordering himself another 2 scoops to retake the lead. Quite a historical performance.

However, the night is not yet over...

Gelato count (so far):

Jordan - 10
Scott - 10

Turtle Power in the Vatican (April 15th)

"Are you kidding me?"

This is the question I continued to ask myself as Jordan and I toured through the astonishing Vatican.

Don't get me wrong, the Vatican is startling and mind-boggling (those are crappy word to describe it) in its history, architecture, and art work. Probably the best collection I will ever see. It absolutely blows you away. But are you kidding me?

Christina, our (insert everything Jordan said in yesterday's blog) tour guide, walked us through the gardens, the museum, the Raphael Rooms, the Sistine Chapel, St. Peter’s Basilica and St. Peter’s Square over a three and half hour period. All of which are just absolutely stunning and fascinating, especially the Raphael Rooms and the Sistine Chapel…WOW! You have to see it to understand I think or just be a better writer than I am! And because of the knowledge Christina offered us in her perfect accent, we could actually appreciate what we, as art idiots, were looking at. But I had to ask wonderful Christina...Are you kidding me?

Just to reiterate, I, for the first time in my life could actually stare at these works of art and they were holding my attention through their detail and mastery. And I am not talking about Christina...But are you kidding me?

I will take a deep breath now, and explain my frustration.

I live in American.

The Pope lives in the Vatican.

I come to the Vatican.

The Pope goes to AMERICA!!!! ON THE VERY DAY I COME TO THE VATICAN!!!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!?

And no he is not kidding me and nobody else was either. The Pope had landed in American just about the same time I took a gander into his window.

Though I will probably never get over this fact, the day was still great and how can it not be.

I got to see some of the greatest works of art any human will ever create and their names just happen to be Michelangelo and Raphael. I got another tour from the perfect Christina. I got to walk through the most breathtaking halls and holy areas the world has ever seen.

Pope or no Pope, the Vatican is still worth it.

Just a side note: Not trying to bring the mood down, but seeing John Paul II's resting place was a touching site.

Another side note: I hope you enjoy the Pope America!

Picture Explanations:

These are marble statues with the original eyes still in them.

The guy looking at you in this picture is Raphael’s self portrait.

That is Christina.

And that is Jordan and I with St. Peter’s Basilica behind us.

---------------
Gelato Count
Scott – 6
Jordan- 7

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forvm (April 14th)

Today would be known as the first day of the rest of our lives .

Scott and I lazily slept in until 11 today…it feels good not to have to get up for anything or really have any responsibility whatsoever. I mean don’t all of you reading this just feel bad that you have to get up and go to work? Do your homework? Tend to your responsibilities?

Having enjoyed the tour of the Coliseum yesterday, we planned on attending the free tour that the same company offered in conjunction with the Coliseum tour.

We never could’ve guessed that what we would encounter on this tour would change us both forever.

Her name was Christina.

Christina was the guide of our one and a half hour tour of Palatine Hill and the Roman Forvm. In addition to her razor sharp intellect and dearth of knowledge, Christina possessed a timeless beauty, dazzling smile, and thick Italian accent that crumbled the hearts of any man who heard her melodious voice. Her long black hair caught up in every breeze, her dark skin glistening from the rays of the sun, she guided us through the ancient ruins, effortlessly spouting off fact after fact describing the area.

Scott and I were unable to concentrate.

Shaking the amorous stupor in which we both found ourselves, we managed to learn a great deal about ancient Rome. Hiding our welled up tears from her gaze, we snapped a quick picture with Christina and bid her farewell.

Now to find the Pantheon. Fresh gelato in hand, we walked around and around the area on our map trying desperately to find it. We even went inside this really cool looking building with a whole in the ceiling and TONS of tourists around, but got kicked out because you aren't supposed to have food in it. Walking walking walking. Can't find the Pantheon.

Finally, we spotted some signs that pointed us right to that weird building we had gotten kicked out of. That's right my friends, Scott and I were in the Pantheon but didn't realize it. How dumb can you get? Granted, we DID think that the Pantheon was actually the stunning building on the front of our map...but that turned out to be St. Peter's Basillica. Again, how dumb can you get?

As I was thoroughly tired of so much sight seeing, Scott and I went back to Katy’s apartment after looking around the Pantheon and took a quick nap before going to dinner. Morgan joined us at the restaurant located just below their apartment where we had a fine Italian meal of pasta and ravioli.

We discovered that the closest Gelatteria was closed, so we spent the next 20 minutes walking around trying to find one that was open. This is where Scott really upped the gelato ante on me. I approached the counter and ordered a mere two scoops. Scott followed and ordered five scoops! Not seeming to care that he just spent 8 dollars on one gelato, we walked back to the apartment, Scott victoriously taking the lead from me.

Gelato count:

Jordan – 7
Scott – 10

“Win the crowd. And you will win your freedom.” (April 13th)

As I stroll the streets of Rome, I, being a huge nerd, try to image the history of where I am walking.

Most of the powerful Rome is gone, which hampers your ability to recreate the influence of the leather sandals that use to stride the ancient brick laden streets. But there is one place that does no hampering. It is a place where if you try hard enough you can still hear the 94,000 Romans cheering a deathblow.

The Coliseum.

When you see and touch the outer façade of this massive stadium you cannot help but appreciate the shear size and the colossal engineering fleets that took place to build this amazing entertainment venue.

Awe. Just Awe.

I would love to fill you in with the history of the Coliseum, but as always I will refrain from typing it out. If you get a chance our tour guide, Max, recommend the History Channel episode about the Coliseum and also the movie Gladiator for the reconstruction of Ancient Rome.

Jordan and I were introduced to Max through his guided tour of the Coliseum, that we gladly paid a little extra for his plethora of cold hard facts and to skip the hour line to get into the stadium. We felt like VIPs walking by the poor saps in line. Through I am sure they made it in…eventually :)

With numerous pictures, countless intrigued looks, and two short videos that when set to music you will all love, it was time for Jordan and I walk out the gates of the Coliseum. That just sounds cool so I will say it again.

Jordan and I walked out the Gates of The Coliseum.

But no matter how long you linger, the shear overwhelming, awe-inspiring Coliseum will ask you to come back. And you will oblige.

Those Romans knew what they were doing.

Hospitalitia Italiano (April 12th)

Apparently I always end up getting stuck writing about travel days.

Today we departed Chinque Terre and headed to Rome to hopefully meet up with our friend, Katy Bird. I say “hopefully” because we still hadn’t totally confirmed if we were staying with her or not.

No train troubles today put us into Rome around 4:30. We met up with Katy at Termini Station around 5:30 and she took us to her apartment, which she shared with two other girls, Manon and Morgan.

Let me tell you, the amount of hospitality they showed us was absolutely AMAZING! We didn’t know this, but it turns out the three of them actually shared only one room in a three bedroom apartment, but they still afforded Scott and I with a bed (at the expense of two of them sharing one bed with another friend who was staying over that night.) They cooked us pasta and let us do laundry…and they probably would’ve let us do a lot more, but we had to try to draw a line somewhere, right?

The night was spent playing drinking games and other games that were probably a lot harder due to the alcohol. One particular game, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, victimized Katy and I into having to drink a lot of Tuborg (the beer we were drinking that night). It started off with me leaving the room to go to the bathroom and then magically coming back and having to drink 24 drinks. Then Katy left the room, which I then took as an opportunity to stack the deck against her so she would have to drink 20 drinks when she got back and started dealing.

Or at least how the plan was supposed to go…

I neglected to look at a few cards in the deck and after a few moves, I was the one doomed to have to drink the 20 drinks meant for Katy. Things become a little blurry here for me, but basically everyone else passed Katy cards to make her drink and we both ended up having to “ride the bus.” (aka drink a lot of beer).

Morgan then started us on a confusing game where everyone except for Katy and I figured out the trick to it (perhaps there was a correlation between this and the amount we drank in the last game, but alas, we may never know.)

Pretty fun times.

Gelato count:

Jordan – 0
Scott – 0

Irish Jaundice (April 11th)

Today was the day Jordan and I were supposed to show off our mad hiking skills in the green hills of Cinque Terre. But then Mother Nature decided to rear her ugly head (she looks surprisingly like that woman from Throw Mama From the Train) and show off her mad flooding skills.

So it just rained. And rained. And caused a landslide on one of the paths.

This putting a damper (no pun intended) on our hiking plans, Jordan and I had to resign our selves to showing off our mad train riding skills. And you better believe we did. Chew-Chew.

In our journey of visiting the five very quaint, very lushes, and very much nuzzlings the Mediterranean coast towns of Cinque Terre, you cannot help but think you stepped in Jewels Verne’s time machine…but soaked trousers bring you right back to the future.

Side Note: I am making this sound worse than it was, we are still in Italy, so it is still great!

Second Side Note: I fell down the stairs of the Hotel.

Jordan and I made the most of the weather as we found a very nice hill (on private property, but nobody seemed home :) to climb in Riomaggiore, the most easternly of the towns, and got a great view of the town and the Sea.

And we continued our consumption of gelato. Our goal of the day was to eat gelato in all five towns…we, and this is hard for me to say, failed. Letting the deliciousness hit our lips in only three of the five.

Of course, just as dusk was approaching Mother Nature stop spitting. At least she did that though, so we could spend our last night in Cinque Terre sitting by the Sea, meeting people and drinking wine.

Though the Sea was far too rough to have our feet in the cool water, Morgan and Jacqueline (from the night before) joined us on a very nice spot a few meters back from the crashing waves (that is right I just used meters as a unit of measure!). Then over the next couple hours five others joined us, all students studying abroad on their spring breaks.

And that is where the cement of the artificial shore became Jordan and I’s stage.

Jokes were landing as often has the waves…except for those few awkward moments…I will blame those moments on Jordan. And somewhere in the mist, the concept of Irish Jaundice enter the knowledge of humans…

Irish Jaundice: the disease that turns your skin Green.

I think the Hulk has it…more anger inducing tests are needed.

The nightcap was the only bar in Monterosso: An American Bar.

The Stars and Stripes have big arms. And I am happy to report so do the Italians.

If only Mother Nature was as considerate.

-----------------------

Gelato count:

Jordan – 6
Scott - 6

Is this heaven? No, it's gelato. (April 10th)

Scott and I awoke after our night of salsa dancing refreshed and ready to begin our journey to Chinque Terre, located in northern Italy near Genova. We had gotten some good info (or at least we THOUGHT it was good) the day before from Celine, the gal who gave us a ride to our hostel when we arrived in Annecy, so we were all set up for the trains that we had to catch that day. She told us that because we had Eurail passes; we could simply hop on and off any train in Europe without a reservation. No problems, right?

Trouble point #1: Annecy, France. 9:35 am.

Asking a nearby train assistant guy to make sure we were about to get on the right train, he informed us that we needed a reservation for this train. How did this happen?? Celine told us we didn’t need one! The man was gracious enough to let us on the train, probably because it we were headed a mere two towns away to Chambery.

Trouble point #2: Chambery, France. 10:26 am.

We pulled into Chambery and immediately headed to the information desk. We found out that we would need reservations for the other two trains we were to take that day. The man who helped us was very nice and we bought the reservations for our next trains and hopped on our train heading to Milan.

Trouble point #3: Unknown location (somewhere between Chambery, France and Milan, Italy). 12:42 pm.

Well, we knew we were on the right train, but we had no idea where we were supposed to sit because it turns out we didn’t receive a reservation for this train…AWESOME! The luggage compartment provided us seats for about 45 minutes until we boldly chose some open seats in the first class car. Everything was going well until the ticket checker came by. Hoping he wasn’t going to Indiana Jones us off the train (“No ticket”), we wondered if we shouldn’t go hide in the bathroom and hope we could sneak by him. We waited it out and about a 20 minute argument ensued between Scott and I and the ticket checker. His point: Give me 14 euros each or else I’ll fine you and kick you off at the next stop. Our point: Why the hell did we pay so much for these damn Eurail passes if we keep having to pay more money? You can imagine who won out on that one (HINT: it wasn’t us).

FINALLY we arrived in Chinque Terre a little angrier and with less money, but we looked up and we saw some of the most gorgeous terrain we’ve ever seen.

Chinque Terre was gorgeous.

Our train dropped us off in Monterosso, the biggest of the five towns (Chinque Terre actually means “five towns” in Italian). Exchanging the familiar “we have no idea what we’re doing” glances at each other, we ended up finding the Hotel Souvenir, which would be our accommodations for the next two nights.

After getting some much needed dinner, we randomly met two girls from Kansas. They were actually staying at the same hotel as we were, but what was more important was what they possessed in each of their hands.

Gelato.

As many of you already know (Jessie), Gelato is Italian ice cream…but more importantly it’s about the best thing you will ever eat in your entire life! The girls showed us where the Gelatteria was located and Scott and I took our first bites of many that we would taste on this trip. So delicious!!!

After our Gelato, the four of us headed to down to Mediterranean and dipped our feet in its cold waters. Or at least it began at our feet, but the Mediterranean was restless and quickly soaked all of us up to our waists. Not caring about dry pants anymore, we ended up Dancin’ in the Mediterranean (not to be confused with Peein’ in the Streets of Dublin). Ok, not ACTUALLY dancing, but you get the picture.

Another day salvaged from travel annoyances.

Gelato consumed (in scoops):

Jordan - 3
Scott - 2

Doing the Salsa in France (April 9th)

Jordan and I spent the daylight hours frequently walking the 20-minute walk back and forth from our hostel to the Old Town (of course, stopping to eat the delicious pastries in the afternoon). Now, I am not complaining about this at all, except for the seemingly “up hill both ways” path you have to take. But when you are in the shadows of the French Alps, who really cares!

Before heading out on the town at night, Jordan, Brett (an Aussie we had met at lunch in the hostel), and I head out for a bite to eat. Brett suggested a place and we obliged. When we had finished our fondue meal, Brett ‘randomly’ got a phone call and took it outside.

One minute passed, three minutes passed, over five minutes passed with no Brett.

Jordan and I looked at each other thinking, “We just got conned into buying a meal for him and he is not coming back!!! Of course someone would offer to go to supper with us, and then leave abruptly without paying the bill. We are DUMB!”

…six minutes pass, no sign of Brett…

We just got conned.

But then! Brett walks right back in the door!

Phew, we all THREE paid our portion of the bill and Jordan and I left relieved.

With the day light hours now gone, it was time to see what nightlife was like in Annecy, France…drum role please…I bet you won’t guess…

…Salsa Dance….

In a Bowling Alley!

Ta-Dah…or is it Strike!

Now, I am not saying that this is the day in and out activities of the night owls in Annecy, but for tonight that is where it was happening.

Jordan and I suck at dancing in general, much less at the Salsa. But we did it any way…sort of.

We went out with Brett from Down Under, Shayla from Central American, and Vanessa from Africa, the latter of the two have been taking Salsa Lessons. I would love to tell you that Jordan and I hit that dance floor and gave a few Salsa Lessons of our own…so I will.

Jordan and I are the best Salsa dancers this side of the Mississippi.

Just a side note: A little after midnight, a Baseball game came on the TVs at the Bowling Alley…I guess Soccer was over…and Baseball my American friends, makes one miss home.

Go Cubbies!

Back to the story: If you are thinking our Salsa dancing wore us out, you are wrong because off to a different bar to do more Salsa dancing. Surprise awaited us though as we walked in the door to find American Flags hung everywhere to decorate for the bar’s American West Theme Party!!

Evidently, according to the French, in the West you wear Sombreros and listen to American Pop music all night long! Ole!

Oh what a night in Annecy, France…the American West of Europe.

John Wayne would be proud of us Iowa boys.

Bonjour Annecy! (April 8th)

This was a big travel day for us as we left Paris and headed for Annecy, France…a place that Jessie suggested we go to. We still hadn’t resolved exactly how to use our rail passes, so we woke up early and headed to Gare de Lyon to get a reservation. We got a ticket for a train that left in 3 hours, so we had some time to kill…most of it spent trying to find an internet café so we could reserve a room in the hostel at Annecy.

This is where we first ran into French keyboards. They’re chief difference from American keyboards is the replacement of periods, a’s, and w’s…which is apparently the only keys we use when typing cause it was about the most frustrating experience of my life. Nevertheless, we got our hostel situation worked out and eventually made our early afternoon train.

The train ride was going well until we were about ¾ through it, but then we stood at a train station for about an hour and a half waiting for what we thought was a technical problem with the train (Scott and I would learn later that the train actually ran someone over!). Numerous announcements were made over the intercom (in French, of course) as we finally began moving. We were trying to discern the meaning of the announcements as a fellow American approached us and asked us if we knew what they were saying. We of course did not, but I noticed he was wearing an Ankeny Fire Dept. shirt…could he be from Ankeny, Iowa?

It turns out that it is indeed a small world as our new friend, Mark Ludwick, was in fact from Ankeny, Iowa. He and Scott had a mutual acquaintance and we spent about a half an hour talking to him and we learned that he was on his way to Milan, Italy to investigate an Italian financial circle wanting to build casinos in Iowa…very important sounding stuff, eh? Nevertheless, it was nice to meet someone from our neck of the woods.

We then found out that we had to switch trains (when we actually weren’t supposed to before, but due to the “technical problems” we did now) due to the kindness of two multi-lingual girls. A short train ride from there and we were in Annecy.

Again, not knowing what the heck we were doing, we got off the train and headed to the information desk to get a map and find our hostel. We were helped by a very nice woman named Celine, who not only showed us where we needed to go but actually gave us a ride from the station to right near the hostel in her own car…such a kind lady!

After checking into our hostel, we trekked down the hill into the town of Annecy, France. What we discovered was one of the most beautiful towns we’ve ever seen! It seemed straight our of a novel or something…quaint, multi-colored buildings, rolling over hills, straight down to the crystal clear stream cascading through it’s core (how do you like THAT alliteration?!?).

And here was where we FINALLY found our perfect French meal. Handed a completely French menu by a solely French-speaking waiter forced us to simply point randomly at the menu and choose our meal. We ended with three courses; the first being potatoes with salad and some rank fish; the main course of meat and potatoes for me, and a weird chicken-crepe with an egg on top for Scott, complete with a dessert of jam filled crepes. Au manufique!

Thoroughly satisfied, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery and tried to snap a few pictures on the way back …though Scott couldn’t manage to hold the camera steady enough for them not to turn out blurry.

Tuckered out from the days travels, we climbed up onto our respective top bunks and drifted off into a deep slumber…awoken only once by the snores of our new roommates.

Leeching

Just for you that pay attention, I, SCOTT, actually wrote the last entry not Jordan...the leech!

Also, we have posted new blogs going back to April 5th, so make sure to read all the way back to then!!

Paris is beautiful (April 7th)

Paris is beautiful.

For the first time in my life I awoke in Paris. And after a long, refreshing sleep I was ready--WAIT! THERE WAS NO LONG, REFRESHING SLEEP IN THIS STORY!

You see, to get through Europe on a budget, especially the one that Team Cheap Bastards is on (that is Jordan and I) you have to stay in hostels that have any where from 6 to 12 beds in them. Well, n this unmomentous occasion, we were in a six person room. And as it turns out one of them happened to be awesome at SNORING THE LOUDEST IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! Along with that highly pleasant volume was the MOST GROSS, SNOT LACED INHALE OF A SNOR EVER!

The snore was coming in so loud and clear that you would think it was actually you that were snoring this snore. Turns out it is just Dante’s 4th Level of Hell. If you would like to recreate this sleepless night, all you need to do is listen to a Moose, a Yak, an Ostrich, and a harpsacord played by a F5 Tornado.

This NOISE is UNFORGETABLE!!!!! UNFORGETTABLE!!

To better moments…and that is where Luke comes in.

Luke is the type of man Jordan and I would be if we were men…wait a second…actually I can’t speak for Jordan. But Luke was our tour guide on the greatest free tour of Paris you will ever be on!

That is right it is free (you can tip at the end if you want and we did) and if you are traveling though Europe make sure to Google them to see if they are in a European City near you.

Anywho, Jordan and I saw everything you ever want to see in Paris in 3.5 hours. All guided by the dreamy Luke. And what makes him so dreamy you ask…well, it is his fountain of knowledge that the springs out like the fat kid on the diving board at your local pool.

If you ever want to hear the entire history of Paris in under five minutes, Luke is the man for the job. That was an amazing whirlwind of five minutes that every one should hear. Wow!

Now, I am not going to tell you about everything we saw or the amazing stories you have never heard before, because they would take up pages and pages. But be sure to ask when we are back. There is a great Hitler and Napoleon story that will send shivers up your spine.

Once night fell, Jordan and I headed for the most visited tour attraction in the world…the Eiffel Tower. We took the lift up to the top and viewed Paris from its highest point.

Have I mentioned that Paris is beautiful?

And the beauty of Paris is that from any angle, it is just as beautiful. Whether you are standing in the rain looking up at the Arc de Triumph or standing in the Sun on the very spot where the last Templar Knight was burned at the stake or you are standing under the Moon on the Eiffel Tower looking down at the carefully designed city edifice…It will make you forget all the unforgettable noises of your life.

And that is the beauty of Paris.

Knifeless in London (April 6th)

So it was our last day in London and also our last day of good weather for about a week. We left bright and early for our $120 Chunnel ride to Paris and it was starting to snow. Are you kidding me??? SNOW!!! The same stuff that we had for about the last 4 months non-stop in Iowa.

Anyway…

We get to the security checkpoint at St. Pancras Station and we are hustling to try to make our 10:28 am train and naturally, I am stopped by security. The went the whole way too: threw on some latex gloves an started going through everything in my 30 lbs. backpack as I stood there and watched. The culprit of all this was my pocketknife that I got as a gift from my recently deceased Uncle Bob…which locked when you pulled the blade out. Apparently in the UK this is considered a lethal weapon and thus illegal for me to have possession of.

So we’re stopped there and I’m getting absolutely PISSED talking to the security guard. He explains to me that it’s illegal and he has to confiscate it. I ask, “Well can’t I at least mail it back to myself in the states?” He says no and I realize that there’s no way I’m getting this knife back.

Long story made a little less long: I’m pissed and I now have lost my knife. How am I supposed to defend myself in the highly likely situation where Scott is attacked and I have to pull out my knife to defend him? DAMNIT!!! Now I know why our 2nd amendment allows us the right to bear arms…the damn Brits won’t allow you to! (*this joke is being made in honor of Charelton Heston, former leader of the NRA, who passed away this past week.)

On to more of the day…

We ended up only losing a half an hour and we made the 11:03 train to Paris. It was actually a very enjoyable ride as we rode in the “leisure” section, which I would say translates to 1st class. We were served what for us was a gourmet meal of broiled ham served with mashed potatoes, carrots, broccoli, some weird organic rice, a roll and our very own mini wine bottle.

The meal was delicious and ended up putting me back in a good mood as we arrived in Paris.

Getting off the train, we finally realized that we really don’t know anything about traveling. France was our first non-English speaking country and virtually everything at the train station was in French. Scott and I give each other the “Oh shit” look and randomly walked around the station looking for an information booth. Once we got there, we bought a 3 day Metro pass, which was good for any transportation within the city, found our train, and we were off to find our aptly named hostel: Oops! Checked in there, made a few calls, and then we set out into the night to find our “perfect French meal.”

Now let me tell you, we only had about a day and a half total in Paris and Scott and I easily spent about 6 hours looking for that perfect looking restaurant where we could find our perfect French meal. But on the way, we did end up doing some pretty cool things.

The first of these was when we headed back to the train station to make sure we knew how to work our Eurail pass (which you’ll be happy to know, we still don’t have a damn clue how to use….damn reservations!) However, when we got there, we saw a massive protest in the terminal. Not knowing anything about what was going on and ignoring the army gunmen and police officers securing the area, we decided it would be a good idea to go and explore what it was all about.

As we got closer, we saw Tibetan flags flying all around and we soon began to wonder if they were there protesting the arrival of the Olympic Torch in France, thus protesting China’s oppression of Tibet, because China is hosting the Olympics…poorly worded, but you know what I’m talking about.

It turns out that we waited around for an hour for what we THOUGHT would be the Olympic torch, but what we actually ended up seeing was a single Tibetan woman holding up a weirdly shaped flashlight as she was surrounded by loads of cameramen. No idea what the heck all the fuss was about. But they gave us a handful of flour and at the conclusion of what we assume was Tibet’s anthem, we threw our flour into the air with all the other protestors and walked away just a little whiter and a lot more clueless.

Leaving the station, we then headed WAY up north to see what Scott and I really came to Europe to see.

We walked out of the train station, headed up winding roads, climbed massive amounts of steps, walked up even more winding roads and finally came up on it: Au Lapin Agile! That’s right, we actually found the Lapin Agile, the setting of what the Ames Daily Tribune rated as, “The second best theatrical performance in Iowa of 2007”: Picasso at the Lapin Agile(http://www.midiowanews.com/site/tab1.cfm?dept_id=554340&newsid=19149126). You can image what Scott and I were like, walking up to it, already in character, so excited to grab a seat and order a Rosé and Absinth, Picasso and Einstein’s drinks in the play. As we snapped our pictures, the door opened and a man invited us in.

What we found out shortly there after was that the Lapin Agile wasn’t actually a bar as Steve Martin had suggested in his play, but it was actually a cabaret and the performance had started an hour earlier. We were quite bummed. Devastated and disappointed, we left the Lapin Agile, but with the vow that we would return sometime in the future and take in a cabaret.

Passing by numerous French restaurants that were exactly what we were looking for, we took the train back down to our stop, Place d’Italle. This was at about 11 o’clock and we were starving, not having eaten since our Chunnel meal. Every place we found in our neighborhood was either closed or had the word “Italian” in its name, and Scott and I weren’t about to eat at an Italian restaurant in France.

We settled on Pizza Caesars, an Italian chain restaurant. Damnit again!

Disappointed with our choice, but absolutely starving, we each ordered an Italian meal in France (which was actually very good) and then headed back to the hostel and went to bed.

…at least for awhile…

New Posts Arriving!!

Alright, we have been promising updates for a while, but one blog is alright done and awaiting pictures...thanks for continuing to check this blog out, i promise you will enjoy the updates, we have been having a blast and have got some get stories to tell!!

The West End (April 5th)

April 5, 2008

The clouds had rolled in and the temperature had begun to drop (you will notice a theme of this over the next couple blogs) in London, as Jordan and I trekked to The West End (the Broadway of England) to enjoy the 2006 Tony Winner for Best Play: The History Boys.

Jordan and I decided to get the tickets we could afford...Matinee Tickets sitting way up in the French Alps...well that was seemingly the incline we were sitting at as we looked down and saw the tops of the heads of the actors...which just so you know, that would be really good for me because I do my best acting with my scalp...

Seeing that this trip is about adventure, Jordan and I took this opportunity to sneak down to the "rich persons" level at intermission where there were a few open seats. We felt like rebels and really cool of course. Due to this it seemed to Jordan and I that the actors grew tremendously in size during intermission...

If you want a review of the play, ask me later as we have a ton of blogs to catch up on!!

That evening Jordan and I had a mission to go to the pub and meet people! Well, this proved difficult as all the pubs we could find closed at midnightish and they were all half empty. On top of that, the beer we order to make ourselves more out going (as if we need that) was served warm...which it is is suppose, but which my body said it ain't! So after two separate trips to the pub, we discovered everyone goes out right after work on the weekdays and not on the weekends and just called it quits and prepared for our morning trip to Paris...

A few notes: We didn't go to the Tower of London as we wouldn't had enough time there with the matinee show starting when it did. Also, we swung by the National Gallery and discovered we enjoy paintings a lot more than pottery.

And an observation, that someone has made to us: The British Museum has nothing British in it!

Just think about that as you continue to get caught up on our blogs!