Europe - French Riviera

Journal of Vacation in Europe - from July 21

We got to Nice alright after 12-13 hours on trains and in stations. But we got to meet some nice people on the last train which was otherwise a tortuous affair. It had to have been 45 degrees in the train for that four hour stretch.
Nice is a nice city in which to just walk around. The outer part of the city offered amazing views of Nice from the small mountains around the city. The stretch along the main tourist street dotted with palm trees saw a fantastic view of the Mediterranean in front of which swarms of tourists would gather to cook themselves in the intense midday sun. A French girl we'd met told us that things are pretty relaxed in the south of France. People get up late, have a relaxing breakfast, take a rest, go to work for a spell, then take another nap in the afternoon. So it came as no surprise to see so many locals turn up on the weekend to play lawn bowling along that main street. Leisure is a way of life - must be nice!Monaco was a sight to see as well. It's hard to imagine a city so rich and clean, and having such beautiful land. Tourists were flocking to the casino to see it, to take pictures of themselves in front of whomever's expensive car would pull up, and waiting to take pictures of any famous person who might go in or out of the casino.





There were some pretty interesting museums in the area, including Marc Chagall's museum. His works were generally off the wall but I loved his stained glass works. The longer you gaze into it, the more you see. His series of biblical paintings were pretty interesting too. Monaco's prince has his own vintage car collection open to the public, which I was amused to see included American military vehicles. Other honourable mentions were the VW toaster wagon and the Lamborghini.We were headed to Geneva today, but due to a bomb scare at the train station (accompanied by what I thought was a ridiculously small-looking fire truck), we only made it to Lyons which was even so a very convoluted trip. We met a family of Swiss people who were also trying to make a connection to Geneva and a German girl who looked very lost and on the verge of tears until we let her know that there were other people in the same boat. Conversation with her on the train ride was tough because it wasn't just ordering food or getting directions or checking in or out. It was quickly apparent that my comprehension by far outpaces my mouth's ability to shape the correct words! We spent hours in train stations not knowing where we were going or what we would do when we got there, but in the end, we all scored free hotel rooms for our trouble.
From tomorrow I will be in Switzerland taking in some fresh mountain air. It's going to be great if we ever get there!

Europe - Barcelona

Journal of Vacation in Europe - from July 16, 2007

Completely lost. At least in France, I could pretend I knew what people were saying and even convince myself sometimes. Less than a week in and there's no doubt about it; planning a trip is hard work. So today I got a welcome respite from the rush and got a taste of the Mediterranean. Literally. It didn't taste all that great to me; it was too salty. The day was beautiful and the waves huge. I almost got sucked under the water was so rough. Today was a good day; more like a vacation.

From July 17, 2007

Barcelona is a good city in which to just wander around and enjoy the sights. And the food. There are areas of town that have so many restaurants that it seems like they're really competing with the others to fill tables. At one place we paused, the the owner started giving a whole sales pitch. I thought I was at a used car dealership.
Speaking of cars, traffic is so crazy I don't know where to look anymore since England. All I know is to is I must stay in the 'do not kill' zone, otherwise called the crosswalk.

Who needs a pet when you can have a Kawai?

I think everyone I've talked to lately is under the impression that I don't want to be around them. Something has broken inside and I don't know if it will ever be right again. I can hide in the lab at work or in the balcony at church and try not to cry, but it tends to give people the impression that I dislike them.
So when faced with the choice between sulking and the next popular option, buying shoes, I decided to go with option C:
Buy a digital piano.
Now for a moment, I can get away from all the problems and sit in front of the window overlooking the city and be one with the music.

Maybe some burdens are meant to be carried alone with God.
Don't just sit there; do something. Sometimes, the best friend is one who doesn't do something, but just sits there with you.

Europe - London and Paris

Journal of Vacation in Europe - from July 15, 2007.

When on vacation, there are a lot of new experiences. In fact you quickly find your day full of them. The unfortunate consequence of that is that some of the old and trusted routine experiences become a lower priority. Like sleep. I don't even know what time it is at home right now. I know time my body says it is - time to sleep. All the time.

The week prior to departure was filled with a flurry of activity. Not only was I planning a trip, but I was also filling in for my boss and looking for a new apartment. About four hours before departure for the airport, I got a call to go in and pay the last month rent on a new place that came open. Which meant go pay that minute or lose the chance to get the place. The ensuing adventures with banks and traffic and crashing computers was a little more than I'd have wanted, but in the end, I somehow got the place and got packed.

So on the fourth night of the trip, I find myself traveling to yet another country. The plan may have been a bit ambitious but so far we've managed to stick to it. Toronto to London Thursday night, London to Paris Saturday morning, and now Paris to Barcelona Sunday night.

London remained much as I remembered it from last year. Weather that changes quickly - cloudy, sunny, rinse and repeat. Parks are everywhere and full of people just lying around apparently not doing a great deal on a Friday afternoon. The Underground remains as always in the summer - very warm and at times very crowded. Sometimes so crowded that one might say it feels a bit... romantic! While the big city has significant drawbacks there's something about England that I like. It's no home to me but maybe there's some memory of England in my blood. Maybe I'll put a finger on it when I'm back there at the end of the month.

I got to see a few sights that I didn't get to dwell on last year due to time constraints. The banking centre Canary Wharf, the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, and Buckingham Palace with the Queen's guard carrying some pretty hefty weapons. But one thing that confounds me is the roundabouts. The monument of traffic lights on Canary Wharf is, I feel a testament to how confusing their traffic is.

Paris provides an interesting juxtaposition to London. In many ways they are similar, and yet very different and it goes far beyond different languages. My first impression however was quite shocking. No sooner had I emerged from the subway when a convoy of armoured cars drove past, soldiers again sporting some pretty hefty guns. Last night the city showed us how they party. It was their national holiday which was accompanied by a very impressive display of fireworks beside the Eiffel Tower which lit up partway through. The City of Lights has earned it name in my books. The revelries in the streets and fountains following that were interesting, even frightening at times after nearly being hit in the head by a firecracker. There was drinking everywhere. You couldn't find a bin anywhere along the Seine that wasn't filled with wine and liquor bottles (with bottles stacked around them because they were full). At times like that, you just have to shrug and say, Vive la France!

Walking around Paris can give you two different impressions. One in the crowded tourist areas and another in the peaceful streets off the beaten path. But just about everywhere in the central city, beauty...

Except... If anyone has ever been to Waterloo and has seen a certain hideous building which made one ask oneself, "from whose twisted imagination did this come," I have found the answer. Davis Centre meet Pompidou.

Exposure to French was difficult at first since it's been about eight years since I've used it. But I found it much easier to understand than Quebecois. We'll see how confused I get in Spain now!