We Interrupt This Broadcast...

Final post before the return (to the island). Still needed: posts on Berlin and Rome (spoiler: they're both AWESOME!!!), but that will have to come later.

Happy New Year, remember to do the American thing and kiss someone special (sadly, Cathy isn't here, so I'm out of luck). Lots of Love to all my readers in 2006!

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City on the Water

Venice is like a dream; or, at least, one of those places you see in textbooks but don't really believe exist. But it does, and man's creativity is vindicated once more.

I arrived quite late, as there was massive train delays. I was quite aggrevated from sitting on a train in Verona, wondering if it would ever take off..it finally did, and I made it to Venice Mestre, the mainland terminal, and proceeded to wait 20 minutes for a train bound to Venice Santa Lucia.

Venice is a lot further from the land than I had thought, about 4 km. Once arriving, I was astounded..even in the darkness of night, even with all the shops closed and people asleep, I could sense something magical. The old buildings had white lights streaming down their facades, and you could never escape the sound of water gently patting the sides of the canals. I took a water bus to the other side, where my hostel was located. Amazing enough, after 15 hours on a train, I would have expected the hour or so it took to get to the stop to be excruciating; it was very pleasant. No worries!

I spent all of the next day walking around, taking your quintessential canal shot, experiencing life without cars The amazing thing about Venice is it is impossible to experience it all xclusively by foot or boat. Some of the buildings but up straight against the canals, making "sidewalks" impossible; even more common are strets within each island, shut off from the water (160 canals have been filled in, with this result).

I attended a modern art museum, held in a beautiful 17th cent. building, The art was really wonderful )although it was "modern" as in Modernist, ranging from he late 19th cent. to about 1950). In the evening I attended a performance of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" which was well done, although rather dry and (gasp!) a little boring. The crowd seemed a bit restless, with much fidgeting about. The guy next too me would occasionally conduct along, which made me think he was an afficianado, although he would also hack on occasion, disturbing my hearing. How odd...

I went to a wonderful restaurant in the evening, spending a bit too much (cetainly more than I thought I had); and this was just a run-of-the-mill restaurant!! Their goulash with eggplant was amazing, though (and quite unlike the goulash I've had at home--equally amazing). I continued my walk, finding out how amazing Venice is in the evening; the shops stay open much later, and the streets are topped with lights in the shapes of hearts, stars, or simply strung across the alleys, making for a beautiful effect.

I rested well, given my feet had been exposed to many hours of walking, and general tiredness is catching up to me. The next day (i.e. today) I took the water bus back to the train station, popped on the 12:32 bound to Rome, and here I am. Last leg...

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Netherlands

I took the night train from Basel to Amsterdam. At a time I thought it would be a good way of saving money and getting more out of the cities; ditch hostels, just push the transportation to the nighttime.

You get virtually no room. You can´t sleep unless you´re really exhausted, and even with the EUrail pass, it was more expensive than a night in a hostel (my most expensive hostel night:$26, train ticket:$36) I think that clarifies things.

Amsterdam is by far the most painful city I have seen. I use the word because you can see the architecture, you know about the museums, you love the canals; but you also see the inordinate amount of grafitti, even on truly historic buildings, every cafe you enter reaks of pot, and the small boxes where prostitutes advertise themselves truly disturbed me.

Luckily, I wasn´t staying in Amsterdam. I was about 40 miles away, in the coastal town of Noordwijk (silent J). This hostel was obviously called the Flying Pigs Beach Hostel (my only interpretation is a drug-induced combination of the Flying Dutchman, Pigs Flying, and Beaches. Maybe). I had one roommate, an English teacher from Korea (which is good because I can´t begin to comprehend Dutch).

I went to beach, NOT expecting a tan, but truly amazed at what I saw. The North Sea, truly ferocious, attacked the sand with a fiery passion. It was dark, mysterious; this explained why it is called the Netherlands. Standing on the beach was like visiting the most remote, dark, forboding place on Earth.

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Change of plans?

If there´s anything I do better than making plans, it´s changing them (BTW, I have experienced so many different keyboards that I freak out if I ever need to enter a special character. Just thought you may want to know)

If I were to go to Salyberg tomorrow, I would need to leave Berlin at 1 PM! Such little time spent in such a wonderful city makes me wonder if I should extend some time and remove others.

So the possible new plan (I KNOW you´re all excited to hear it)
1. Stay in Berlin an extra night.
2. Skip Austria and go straight to Venice
3. Skip Barcelona, replace it with Marseilles.

Part of these adaptations are based on logistics: It´s a bit awkward to get to Paris from Barcelona, that ferry ride would itself take about a day, etc., etc.

But as I sit here, in my hostel (called the Pegasus), I understand I can´t see this city in 12 hours (most of which it would be asleep); so perhaps the decision is already made.

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Christmas in Copenhagen

Once again I'm at a "cafe" of sorts (minus the whole cafe part) in Copenhagen's (Kobenhavn) primary station, a long name which I can't recall and don't see in the immediate vicinity.

Christmas was spent walking around the town. Soon after I left, I realized I had forgotten my camera, which was a shame, but vowed to visit some of the places once I remembered where my hostel (the Sleep In Heaven) was and how to get there. I happened upon a wonderful cemetary, with old names, new names, not terribly crowded, and many, many trees. Trees in Europe (including England) seem to posses some great quality that gives them more character than American trees (not that there's anything wrong with Am. trees). They all twist, snarl, have warts, appear as old as earth, and really played well in the cemetary.

Continuing the walk, I found upon the graves of Hans Christien Anderson, Niels Bohr, and Sørsen Kierkegaard. Unfortunately, Carl Nielsen is in a different cemetary (which I visited today, but, without the aid of signposts and maps, was not fruitful). Pictures to follow...sometime...

I made my way through the town centre. I was hoping on seeing when/where the memory jolt would happen. I was very pleased to find that it was the Round Tower, built by a king so he could view the city without leaving his chariot, that did the trick. I walked around the shopping area, which was almost bare. Later in the evening, all the stores turn on their lights so families can enjoy strolls through town.

I pushed on past Kastrup, the area of Copenhagen that reminds us that even the status of utopia we generally give Scandanavia may be a bit high. Not to say it was dodgy, just unkempt, a bit dirty, with more-or-less inconspicuous buildings.

This was where the fog began to roll in. I walked further.

The fog was so thick as to obscure the people in the early distance. It was such to melt sky and sea together, allowing the sand on the beach to be the only sure thing. The sea itself was so clear you could peer far down and see the pebbles lying underneath. It calmly lapped it's edge. I found it quite pleasing, and reflected on how in one week I could have experienced three extremely different bodies of water.

I had wondered if families went to beaches here for Christmas, like I hear they do in Australia (why I felt the comparison betweeen Denmark and Australia, I don't know); I found out they do! Only they wear a lot of clothing because it's a bit chilly.

I eventually made it back to the hostel, remembering parts of street names, and such. Took photos, enjoyed the merriment of winter (including the necessary call from home).

And now it's off to Berlin!

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Merry Christmas!!!

Just a little shout-out to everyone, saying

1. Happy Holidays (including Festivus)
2. Thank you Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Aunt Georgia; for making this trip possible!

I am currently at the Sleep In Heaven Hostel in Copenhagen. Posts about Swissville and Holland should be in short order.

Yay holidays!!

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Sarah Visit

Ah, it is truly (one of) the greatest pleasures to meet up with a friend. Daria had described it as odd when I visited in London last year (like early surrealism), but I find it refreshing to gain a new perspective on an old friendship.

Basel is amazing. In less than 2 days, I was able to see Sarah's school (which looks like it has much more character than RNCM - no offense!), the Christmas market, which seems a bit more genuine than Manchester's (it is a little larger, although their food tents aren't as big), an "Irish" pub (sorry Sarah, but I do need to put in the quotes), the Rhine, little Basel, numerous art projects (including a fountain conceived of a set of small Rube Goldberg machines), to name just a few of the many sights to see.

It was so wonderful to catch up, and hypothesize over lost contacts, the quiet, and the sufferers of the "Eastman virus". It's also reassuring to see our feelings regarding studying in a drastically new area are similar.

And I also got to experience a Nespresso!

Sarah, thanks for a great visit!

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The Plan

Sadly, I CANNOT keep myholiday in the "spur of the moment"lifestyle I was trying to emulate. I NEED a plan. Gosh, how revealing!

So here's the plan:

1. Now I'm in Amsterdam (no, I am NOT interested in their drugs and prostitution)
2. Tomorrow, or in 2 days, I will go to Copenhagen (for the sentimental value)
3. Then down through Germany and Italy
4. Once I reach Rome, take a ferry to Barcelona
5. Then up through Spain and France
6. See Paris on the 31st
7. Take the Chunnel back to London on the 1st.

Sleep for a week, then go back to school (sigh...)

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A bit more time

I bought a larger quantity of time, making the posting and e-mail reading a bit more relaxed. I have found out this hostel is quite cheap until it comes to the extras. Internet runs at abuot $11/hour (although you can buy it in 10 or 25 minute chunks); a small glass of beer is $4.50; they do, however, have free breakfast.

I must say it is a truly different experience waking up, walking downstairs, looking outside and seeing these RIDICULOUSLY HUGE mountains nearby. I imagine it wears over time (although the hostel is supposedly a haven for Australians looking for adventure sports - Caitlin, you my enjoy it).

I went to Nice first to be relaxed (and it had, I thought, the cheapest hostel). I let myself sleep in, and headed down to the beach.The trek was quite long, and I discovered the stereotypes about French drivers are not untrue. Because my hostel was on the edge of a mountain, I would walk down some steps and suddenly find myself on the street, where cars with low visibility would whip around corners in a frenzy much like coffee shop in the morning.

The beach was practically deserted, with rock collectors, meditators, and one person wearing a wet suit (they looked so eager to run into the water). I spent most of my time at the beach, allowing my thoughts to further calm me, and enjoying the pictures my head presented.

I got lost on the way back (not unusual for me - although a bit risky in a foreign country with a foreign tongue), and had left the address, phone number, and directions back at the hostel (not the brightest idea, either). In lieu of this, I walked around, caught a bus I recognized, and got off once I was in familiar territory.

20th: Checked out without a problem, although the receptionist (who was from California) begrudgingly gave me the discount for the second night as well (she didn't have to, and I offered to pay). Got to the train station without trouble, then headed back for Milan (a bit sad because I had told myself the day before I wouldn't use the same raillines twice - broken in the first day!). Once in Milan, and excruciating wait, then the ticket to Spietz, 20 minute wait, then Interlaken (which brings us to the Funny Farm - no joke, the hostel, formerly known as the Grand Hotel, is now the Funny Farm). Today I go to Basel to visit Sarah! This was a close call because, despite getting away from the hullaballoo that is Eastman, we still have to really work our schedules to meet up.

And from there...

Let';s not count the mistakes....

I only have 3 minutes left on my 10 minutes of computer, so don't expect too much of a read-through.

Summary:

Nice - Amazing. Not the tourist season, so there weren't large crowds. Will write more.

Trip - Long and tedious, but with amazing scenery. Until it got dark

Now - In Interlaken (not Interlochen), Switzerland. Will travel to Basel tomorrow to visit Sarah, hotel is cheap and amazingly posh (but internet is a tad expensive).

Sorry, have to go.

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This is ridiculous

I normally keep away from beliefs of fate and karma, usually because of the implications it would have on me. In any event of fate, I usually envisage myself getting the short end of the stick (not that I do; I certainly am truly grateful for everything life has given me, and do count myself blessed, and quite fortunate), but I have to simply say the past day has ended on a high note.

Before we reach that tessitura, let me run you through the earlier events of the day:
1. I didn't really sleep, by which I mean I slept 1 hour, and it was the scariest I ever slept (fear of missing the bus).
2. Walked to bus, 3:45 AM
3. Get on bus, 4:10 AM
4. Arrive at airport, check-in, plane takes off:6:30
5. Plane arrives in Bergamo (near Milan), Italy 10:00 (Continental time)
6. Get on bus headed to Milan:10:30
7. Get off bus at Milan train station:12ish(?)
8. Get EUrail pass validated, get ticket for Nice.
9. FIND FOOD!!! Try to speak Italien and have waiter speak in English (thank goodness!)
10. Head back to train station, get on train headed for Nizza (Nice?):3:10
11. Eventaully come to conclusion that Nice is Nizza, and train ride is really long.
12. Arrive at Nice (as the French call it):8:20
13. Take ANOTHER bus (third one today - and that's not counting the shuttle from the plane to the luggage claim):8:40
14. Arrive at Place Saint Maurice. Call hostel, who are obliged to pick me up.
15. Arrive at hostel Saint Villa

This is where it becomes interesting. I was originally supposed to have a bed in a room with something like 20-30 people in it (I don't think I'm exagerrating that much). Unfrotunately, that room us all full, so they need to give me a much nicer room for the same price.

BUT WAIT!!!

There was yet ANOTHER problem with the booking: I was only charged 1/2 price (for some reason or another). Once again, they are obliged to honor the web price.

So in summary: I have an amazing room. which overlooks the city, with no one else, for a ridiculously cheap price!

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Crap, it's been another week

This one went well.

I learned the term end isn't as stressful if nobody expects anything from you. I had an arrangement due for Thornton's class, which took all of 2 hours and was very well received (Ives's 1st String Quartet, 1st movement, done for 4 euphoniums - sorry...); other than that, I probably could have taken off a week ago and not missed much.

Tonight, I pack! But first I will be heading off to Lymm, to meet a friend from the NCCB. It's strange to think I will be on the continet in 24 hours, and specifically in a couple more, Nice.

What to expect over break:

1. Posts regarding observations of the rest of Europe
2. Posts regarding more philosophical/cultural feelings (beginning with a review of "Snow" by Orhan Pamuk
3. A return of the LotW!!!

Oh how wonderful !

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Standing in the River

Michaela left yesterday, at about 4 AM. I stayed up during the night to make sure she wouldn't miss the bus, letting myself sleep in until a very late time (I'm going to keep it private, but it rhymes with tune). During her stay, she saw two games, and a couple warm-ups. Plus, her photo collection of all the star players is complete, as well as the signatures on her jersey.

As well as Michaela, we also had Louie, a friend of Sarah's. He was here auditioning (after hitting the rounds in London). We went to see the Black Dyke Band Saturday evening, which was a treat. She show was essentially Christmas tunes, something that shouldn't be surprising this time of year. The band sounded awesome (no shock coming from the "greatest brass band in the world"), and the soloists, which included Brett Baker and David Thornton, sounded wonderful as well.

Friday evening was the North Cheshire Concert Band performance. Everything went well, and it was pleasing to play for a sold-out crowd (of course, remember it was in a smallish church, but it looks nice on paper). Once again, standard Christmas tunes...and The Sorcerer's Apprentice. Afterwards, it was the requisite trip to the pub, where I discovered I had left my wallet in my other pants (trousers). Luckily, as I was hired instead of a member, it was assumed someone would buy me a drink.

As the week progresses, I find myself on par for the end of the term. I have my standard classes, lessons, etc., etc., to be concluded Friday at 3. Then the real workout begins!

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Ticket booked!

Starting in Milan on the 18th. Updates from there...

A Promised Saved is....whatever

As I said, this post would be happier. And probably shorter (not that there is a connection). Just little tidbits:

1. I have a friend visiting from Germany. I met Michaela at the hostel I stayed at prior to my first house. She is a HUGE Manchester United fan, and the last time she visited, she stayed for 6 or so days, catching 2-3 games (one in London). She will be here through the weekend, so I imagine there will be once again late night talks, curry, and little sleep.

2. I have a new metronome! (I swear, I'm not searching for good things) It is actually quite cool. It's very small, and snaps on your ear. With my long hair, I could discretely use it at performances without anyone noticing.

3. Break is coming indeed! Although I haven't gotten any tickets yet, it looks like I will be flying to Italy and spending 1-2 weeks checking out "Old Europe" (to borrow a phrase from our late Defense secretary). Who knows, maybe I'll go busking.

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Swinging Pendulum to match little headaches and heartaches

The term is coming to a close. I think next Friday is the last official day, but maybe I'm jumping the gun. In any event, I haven't felt this worn out since late Spring semester Junior Year, when I went home a week before I was originally planning (an action that cost me seeing a production of Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire, and seeing many of my closer friends walk the stage.) However, this time I'm not going home.

The most incredible thing is the sheer difference in respective workloads. Junior year I was horrendously busy, here I have nothing required. Yet somehow I can still feel a burden weighing down on my shoulders.

Part of the answer lies in the sun. I never thought I would be a victim of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), but I must say it extremely difficult to work in the evening, or the feel the weight of the heart after a practice that concludes at 4:30, only to find outside enveloped in blackness.

The next post will be happier and divulge current plans for Christmas!

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