The Great European Venture

Paris, the Eiffel Tower and some unfortunate confusion...

2008-09-21T06:01:00.001-07:00

So, we arrived in Paris and were completely exhausted. Galway had treated us very well, it was an amazing little town of poets, students, and ruggedly beautiful beaches, but soon our time was up. By this time the week had passed into weekend, and hostel stays were going up in price and down in availability. The cost to extend out stay in Ireland was approaching that of a plane ticket to Paris, so we decided to sleep in the Dublin International airport, and catch an early morning flight into Paris. Unfortunately, sleeping in an airport, especially a busy (though surprisingly well laid-out) international ariport was easier said than done. We caught few hours of sleep on the plane, but our alertness level in Paris was about that of a two-toed sloth. Also, upon arrival, we realized that our we'd not landed in Paris international airport, but in Beauvais airport, a suburb of Paris. we got on a bus for two hours, during which time we got a little more sleep, and then arrived in the northern-most outskirts of Paris. It felt more like Tijauna than the famed City of Light; there were people washing car windshields asking for money, and angry taxi drivers yelling at everyone. Luckily we got to a metro station and found our way to where out hostel was. Once there, we realized we'd actually booked a hotel, rather than a hostel, and due to my half-awake state, we ended up paying for two rooms in this old, old hotel. They say that the city of Paris has been an trading route alone the Seine River for almost 2,000 years, and this hotel was a testament to how old the city was. But, after a nights' good and just rest, we woke up to explore this long-standing bastion of culture, art, and everything French.
The room was yellowing with age, on the top floor, with a corner view of both cross streets. the shower was a 1x1 elevated platform with leaky pipes, a torn shower curtain, and the shower head didn't have a wall mount. We found an internet Cafe to spend some time in, the Cafe' Cannibale (we were next to a nice-looking little cafe called Le Chat Noir, but they didn't have wifi), and got a map of Paris on Google maps. The city is divided along the middle by the River Seine, into the Rive a Droit (the north bank) and le Rive Gauche (the south bank). In the center of the city is Napoleon's grave, and within a few blocks of that is the Eiffel Tower. We didn't make it out to the tourist spot for a few hours, so it was dark when we visited the famed monument, but luckily the city compensated for the lack of sunlight by illuminating the tower, with lights posted all around and inside the tower, painting it a brilliant blue. I didn't come expecting to be that dazzled, but it truly was a magnificent site. the arcs on the bottom seemed close to a hundred feet tall, and if you tried to run from one post to another you'd be breathless before you got there. We left, passed all the wonderful crazy goatee-and-beret wearing hip-cats and went back to the hotel. Parisians, once you get out of the tourist areas of Paris, are wonderful people. When we got of the Metro on the first day a stranger went about four blocks out of his way to show us where our street was, and despite our limited french-speaking abilities, the poeple at the hotel reception were sad to see us go (perhaps our American wallets were part of what they missed, but i don't think that was all of it). Once you get to the tourist areas, they live up to and surpass their snobbish, aloof reputation, so beware; the sunset over the Seine river, with the Eiffel Tower silhouetted into the sky is worth it tho.

Leaving Ireland for now...

2008-09-12T06:53:00.000-07:00

So, we made it out of Dublin. As soon as you get past the city limits, the air gets lighter, the people move slower, and you breathe a little easier. Everything in the Irish Countryside is gorgeous, exactly what you expect to see, old stone-faced men hunched against the rain and such. The grass is a different breed, burly and gnarled, resting on old hillsides with abnormally large cows and lots of sheep. No fences, just rock walls as old as the hills they rest on, reflecting the perpetual greyness of the sky. Galway was out next destination, a comfortable little college town, and the capitol of West Ireland, it has a reputation for attracting poets and artists. The university of Galway is one of the most respected international universities in Europe, and we met people from South Korea, Norway, Pennsylvania, Ohio, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, and a few other countries that escape me. The artistic movement, though hard to find at first (like any subculture) had a wonderfully vibrant presence, once you knew what you were looking for. By accident, i wandered into a cafe' following the sound of a guitar, only to discover that I'd stumbled upon an Amnesty International Fund raising and awareness building site. They sold jewelry and musical instruments from all over the world for fair-trade prices, and sold books published by Amnesty Int. on global poverty statistics, the effects of globalisation on developing nations, and such. The guitar playing was coming from a poet/musician, who was singing the wasted glories of a baggage-handlers' strike, with the enthusiastic audience of around 12 cheering him on. Afterwards he read some poetry while the crowd beat their thighs to the meter of his poem, all proceeds of the event going to Amnesty. Needless to say, i was excited beyond words to see this sort of artistic activism play a role in the everyday life of a community, and am now in love with the city of Galway.
Unfortunately, we couldn't find a hostel within our budget range in either Galway or Dublin for the following night. Since we were planning on leaving for Paris soon, and with hostel prices approaching half of our potential plane ticket, we decided to book a flight for the morning, and attempted sleep in the airport. I'll tell you more about Paris next time, but we just booked into our hotel and i am exhausted.

Jetlag and Dublin (pronounced Doo'-blin)

2008-09-09T08:29:00.000-07:00

So... that was a long flight. 10 hours, no layovers (paul hates them)... thats 3 lame movies, two microwave (but free!) meals, countless trips to the restroom, and no sleep. For 10 hours. Our first day in Dublin was spent in a half-asleep daze; we left San Francisco at 2:35 pm and got into Dublin at 8:35 in the morning, and didn't sleep so as to re-adjust our sleep schedule to Dublin time. So far we've walked around, gotten lost a few times, and marveled at the amount of pubs... its a major part of the culture here; instead of tourist spots advertising Irish merchandise, there are Guinness merchandise banners everywhere. James Joyce apparently was quoted as saying that a good puzzle would be to cross Dublin without encountering a pub... i don't know that we could manage it. Other than that, it has a pretty typical big-city feel. Lots of bustling about, pigeons and whatnot, just with an Irish accent. I mean, there are a few things to remind you that you're not in the us, like the red-faced Irish yelling for a "tall one and a small one," or the IRA graffiti instead of the Westside whatever stuff, but it misses exotic by a long shot, which is almost comforting. we have one more day in Dublin, then we're probably going to get a bus up to Omagh or over to Galway, both of which we'd like to see before setting out for continental Europe.

On the precipice...

2008-09-07T09:27:00.000-07:00

So, we got tickets for today, Sunday the 7th, at around 2:30 pm. I write this from a garage-converted-house in south San Francisco, near Daly City, and I can't think of a better place to start the journey. The concrete floors and mechanical-door wall lend an ambiance of conspiratorial glee to our last minute pre-trip plans. Last night we visited Annie's great-aunt, and celebrated the strong interpersonal bonds of family we were about to break with out venturing by having dinner on wonderfully fancy restaurant located on a cliff overlooking the ocean, aptly titled The Cliffhouse. There was an amazing sunset as we left, as if the Pacific ocean were waving goodbye with rosy-hued fingers as it melted into the sky. We felt special. Annie's great-aunt told us of her travels, which were extensive, and we retired to her abode for ice cream and beautiful sleep... except Paul got sick from the fish and chips from the restaurant. Then we found our way to this wonderful garage, which happens to be the home of Nick Mendonsa, our accommodating host. Today we fly to Dublin...