Wow. This is going to be different. I guess I have to learn how to write a review for a movie that was actually good. After such gems like "Salt" and "Rain Fall", I haven't really had much to work with. More surprising is my mom picked out this movie. Her selection strategy usually is "Hey, this has Jason Statham in it....its gotta be good right"? But "Five Dollars a Day" turned out to be a pretty decent comedy/drama.
Christopher Walken stars in this indie film, playing an extremely cheap dead-beat dad/swindler. His means of holding onto his cash include pretending to be a guest at hotels for the free breakfasts, using fake IDs at IHOP to get a free meal because its his "birthday", and driving a car advertising Sweet N' Low for the free gas. The Walken character was actually the reason Mom picked the movie out, because she is married to his doppelganger. My dad is also pretty notorious for his penny-pinching, and although he doesn't go as far as Walken (some of the stuff in the movie is probably prosecutable) does in "Five Dollars a Day", I have it on his own admission that he did once get free breakfast at a hotel he wasn't staying at. Of course, now that he has seen this film, I can look forward to having to bail him out of jail at some point.
The film isn't a constant laugh-a-thon like some more mainstream comedies, but it still has some pretty hilarious moments. The story is a unique and interesting one and I couldn't find any real flaws in the acting. Sharon Stone does make an appearance in this movie, but it is just a cameo, and there isn't any Basic Instinct moment either. I was pretty disappointed with the ending, when the movie became more of a drama, and left behind much of the comedy element. After some of the films I had been seeing, I was pretty depressed. Most of the film was pretty damn good though.
Verdict: "Five Dollars a Day" is just an indie film that probably had a limited release in theaters, but if your looking for a few good laughs coupled with a solid storyline, I recommend giving this one a shot. Grade: B+
If you liked this film you might like: can and bottle returns, coupons, and under-tipping the waiter. For a movie shout though, I liken this film a little bit to "Little Miss Sunshine".
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Movie Review- Rain Fall: Rainin' Disappointment
I know I vowed to only give reviews for new(ish) movies, but this just has to be addressed. I am a big fan of the author Barry Eisler, particularly his John Rain series, about a half-American half-Japanese assassin. When a movie based on the first book "Rain Fall" came out in 2009 under the same title, I was pretty stoked. I just got my hands on the DVD the other day (the movie was only released in Japan). Wow. That is all I am going to say. I mean, were they trying to make a movie, or create like, an anti-movie, one for up and coming directors on what not to do?
Rain Fall the movie is a special kind of bad. We are talking Salt bad, if readers remember a recent post of mine about Angelina Jolie's Razzy Award candidate. I made it to about the 40 minute mark with Rain Fall, then decided I had more important things to do. Others were watching it with me, and since we paid for the piece of trash, we left in on. I used my laptop and half-listened at the same time. Awful, I mean, putrid acting. Gary Oldman, get a real job. Acting isn't your thing. Okay, the lines were probably written by someone who didn't know what a movie was (some of the worst dialogue I have ever heard, my eardrums bled a little bit) but still, just absolutely terrible acting. Effort anyone?, please? The editing? No Oscars for this one. It was like someone shot a whole bunch of different scenes that were totally unrelated, than threw them together and called in Rain Fall. One minute are hero John Rain is on the subway platform than BOOM, there is a random cop looking around someone's house. The movie barely kept in line with the book storyline. Even if it did, this movie would still be some kind of awful. The funny thing is, the summary given on the back of the DVD box was actually wildly different from what happened in the movie. The story made almost no sense, and this wasn't aided by the atrocious editing, which just jumbled shit up and left the viewer confused. I read the book, and I had no idea what was going on. At all. Even the fight scenes sucked. The John Rain from the books would put down a knife-wielding yakuza thug with ease. The movie's John Rain? Sliced in the side....and has to run away. Seriously? Did the director read the book? Or saw the cover, read the synopsis and thought: "OK, get Gary Oldman on the phone, I got something....."
Barry Eisler needs to distance himself from the movie. Not only is the movie just a total insult to the film industry, I died inside a little bit knowing it was "based" on what is a very very good novel. Barry, your books are way behind this, just disavow all knowledge of this movie.
Verdict: Read the book, burn the movie. Grade: F
If you liked this movie you might like: Salt.
Rain Fall the movie is a special kind of bad. We are talking Salt bad, if readers remember a recent post of mine about Angelina Jolie's Razzy Award candidate. I made it to about the 40 minute mark with Rain Fall, then decided I had more important things to do. Others were watching it with me, and since we paid for the piece of trash, we left in on. I used my laptop and half-listened at the same time. Awful, I mean, putrid acting. Gary Oldman, get a real job. Acting isn't your thing. Okay, the lines were probably written by someone who didn't know what a movie was (some of the worst dialogue I have ever heard, my eardrums bled a little bit) but still, just absolutely terrible acting. Effort anyone?, please? The editing? No Oscars for this one. It was like someone shot a whole bunch of different scenes that were totally unrelated, than threw them together and called in Rain Fall. One minute are hero John Rain is on the subway platform than BOOM, there is a random cop looking around someone's house. The movie barely kept in line with the book storyline. Even if it did, this movie would still be some kind of awful. The funny thing is, the summary given on the back of the DVD box was actually wildly different from what happened in the movie. The story made almost no sense, and this wasn't aided by the atrocious editing, which just jumbled shit up and left the viewer confused. I read the book, and I had no idea what was going on. At all. Even the fight scenes sucked. The John Rain from the books would put down a knife-wielding yakuza thug with ease. The movie's John Rain? Sliced in the side....and has to run away. Seriously? Did the director read the book? Or saw the cover, read the synopsis and thought: "OK, get Gary Oldman on the phone, I got something....."
Barry Eisler needs to distance himself from the movie. Not only is the movie just a total insult to the film industry, I died inside a little bit knowing it was "based" on what is a very very good novel. Barry, your books are way behind this, just disavow all knowledge of this movie.
Verdict: Read the book, burn the movie. Grade: F
If you liked this movie you might like: Salt.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Year in Pictures
The year is coming to a close, and with it comes one of my favorite items: The International Herald Tribune's (basically the New York Times) Year in Pictures, posted here: http://www.nytimes.com/packages/html/photo/2010-year-in-pictures/
I fancy myself to be a fairly decent photographer, but I really admire the work done by some of the paper's photographers. Not only are the photos impressive, but they also allow for one to reflect what has taken place around the World throughout the year.
Some of the notable events this year were: The devastating earthquake in Haiti, the British Petroleum oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, the Icelandic volcano blast that caused travel chaos around Europe, the FIFA World Cup in South Africa (Africa's first World Cup), the trapped Chilean miners, floods in Pakistan, forest fires in Russia, the mid-term elections in the U.S. and the North Korean shelling of a South Korean island.
With the exception of the World Cup, not many of the headline-grabbers this year were really positive. Though the Chilean miners all coming out alive was of course a good and happy ending. I am hoping the new year will bring some more positive news, like "Bill Clinton on 'Dancing with the Stars'"!! Though, with the ever increasing hostility between North and South Korea looking to spill over into the new year, I think Mr. Clinton will probably be over in the Far East doing some mediating, and not dancing with some has-been actors and sport-stars (That show had Michael Bolton and Mario Lopez on there...I rest my case). The Ivory Coast looks like its about to implode into civil war (yep, again), still 9.6% unemployment in the United States, no real end in site for the war in Afghanistan, a junta still in control in Myanmar, riots in Greece and Italy....2011 is shaping up to be a real cream-puff folks.
Maybe Arsenal will actually win a trophy at the end of season.....
I fancy myself to be a fairly decent photographer, but I really admire the work done by some of the paper's photographers. Not only are the photos impressive, but they also allow for one to reflect what has taken place around the World throughout the year.
Some of the notable events this year were: The devastating earthquake in Haiti, the British Petroleum oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, the Icelandic volcano blast that caused travel chaos around Europe, the FIFA World Cup in South Africa (Africa's first World Cup), the trapped Chilean miners, floods in Pakistan, forest fires in Russia, the mid-term elections in the U.S. and the North Korean shelling of a South Korean island.
With the exception of the World Cup, not many of the headline-grabbers this year were really positive. Though the Chilean miners all coming out alive was of course a good and happy ending. I am hoping the new year will bring some more positive news, like "Bill Clinton on 'Dancing with the Stars'"!! Though, with the ever increasing hostility between North and South Korea looking to spill over into the new year, I think Mr. Clinton will probably be over in the Far East doing some mediating, and not dancing with some has-been actors and sport-stars (That show had Michael Bolton and Mario Lopez on there...I rest my case). The Ivory Coast looks like its about to implode into civil war (yep, again), still 9.6% unemployment in the United States, no real end in site for the war in Afghanistan, a junta still in control in Myanmar, riots in Greece and Italy....2011 is shaping up to be a real cream-puff folks.
Maybe Arsenal will actually win a trophy at the end of season.....
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Salt: A bitter taste
Twenty minutes and forty-six seconds. That is how long I could stand this movie before I said no more. I wasn't going to spend the next hour of my life on this piece of shit. The dialogue right from the start was just miserable. It sounded like they didn't even really try, like maybe the audience with be so enthralled by the action that they will not even hear the words. The acting? Well there is Angelina Jolie,Chiwetel Ejiofor, and Liev Schrieber. Sounded pretty promising, but it wasn't. I am going to chalk this one up to bad screenplay and dialogue, but the acting was below sub-par. I couldn't even really believe what I was seeing. I hope the individual or individuals behind this movie's script were dragged out into the street and shot. Don't even get me started on the storyline. After twenty minutes I could tell this was just going to be a stupid experience. Russians creating super-spies to bring down America. Spies trained by a "spymaster". That's right, spymaster, they actually used that word in the movie! Even the Austin Powers' films could get better wording.
I wasn't expecting much from "Salt", but, I wasn't expecting a such insult to the movie industry either. I thought it might be a fun action flick, but you know, I have my standards. After the extreme mediocrity of the opening half, I just totally lost interest. Hell, sounds like North and South Korea are preparing for war, I might just watch that instead. Too bad there is no more Mystery Science Theater 3000, because "Salt" would make for a good one.
Verdict: Don't, just don't. Grade: F
If you liked this movie you might like: Every bad movie ever made.
I wasn't expecting much from "Salt", but, I wasn't expecting a such insult to the movie industry either. I thought it might be a fun action flick, but you know, I have my standards. After the extreme mediocrity of the opening half, I just totally lost interest. Hell, sounds like North and South Korea are preparing for war, I might just watch that instead. Too bad there is no more Mystery Science Theater 3000, because "Salt" would make for a good one.
Verdict: Don't, just don't. Grade: F
If you liked this movie you might like: Every bad movie ever made.
Friday, December 17, 2010
The American: I hope you don't have much else to do
George Clooney. A mysterious assassin in Italy on a last job. Wow. Sounds riveting.
No. Not at all actually. Boring, dreadfully boring. I stopped watching it a couple times because I was losing interest and wanted to do some other things. One of those was take a walk outside. That's right, I preferred walking in the dark at freezing temperatures over staying at my laptop watching The American. I liked the premise, and indeed there were some good parts, but this movie was as slow as George W. Bush trying to do a sudoku. I am not all that surprised really, Clooney's recent flicks haven't really been fast-paced, action shoot-em-ups. Syriana, a movie I really liked, was pretty slow. Obviously a movie doesn't have to be like one of the "Transporter" franchise in order to be good. In the American, however, there just wasn't really enough of a story to keep one riveted, at least that is how I felt. There are a couple of action sequences, but that is not all I am really looking for. The story felt just kind of ho-hum. The viewer actually doesn't much idea what is going on, except that Clooney is on some sort of job, which is really just to assemble a weapon....for another assassin (yeah, I know, kind of strange). There is very very little dialogue in the movie, and Mr. Clooney spends most of it either looking sad or really pissed. I don't think any Oscars are going to come out of this one. The guy was pretty rigid throughout the whole thing. Part way through I was thinking: "man, if I went to the theaters to see this thing, I would start shouting random shit just to make it interesting".
I would say this movie has two redeeming qualities: It takes place in Italy, which means there is some pretty cool imagery in it. For a traveling man like myself, I really enjoyed the setting of this film. The other was the ending. There is a bit of a surprise ending the film, so it wasn't a bore all the way through. There is also some pretty steamy sex scenes, but that might not be a redeeming quality.
I like Clooney and, again, I liked the premise to this film, but it just doesn't come off. Slow is the word of the day, and it doesn't work all that hard to keep the audiences' interest. Definitely not a movie to watch before you go to bed, you will probably end up sleeping on the couch. But if we put Jason Statham in the role.....
Verdict: Stick with the Bourne films. Grade: C
If you liked this movie you might like: Watching paint dry, or maybe watching grass grow.
No. Not at all actually. Boring, dreadfully boring. I stopped watching it a couple times because I was losing interest and wanted to do some other things. One of those was take a walk outside. That's right, I preferred walking in the dark at freezing temperatures over staying at my laptop watching The American. I liked the premise, and indeed there were some good parts, but this movie was as slow as George W. Bush trying to do a sudoku. I am not all that surprised really, Clooney's recent flicks haven't really been fast-paced, action shoot-em-ups. Syriana, a movie I really liked, was pretty slow. Obviously a movie doesn't have to be like one of the "Transporter" franchise in order to be good. In the American, however, there just wasn't really enough of a story to keep one riveted, at least that is how I felt. There are a couple of action sequences, but that is not all I am really looking for. The story felt just kind of ho-hum. The viewer actually doesn't much idea what is going on, except that Clooney is on some sort of job, which is really just to assemble a weapon....for another assassin (yeah, I know, kind of strange). There is very very little dialogue in the movie, and Mr. Clooney spends most of it either looking sad or really pissed. I don't think any Oscars are going to come out of this one. The guy was pretty rigid throughout the whole thing. Part way through I was thinking: "man, if I went to the theaters to see this thing, I would start shouting random shit just to make it interesting".
I would say this movie has two redeeming qualities: It takes place in Italy, which means there is some pretty cool imagery in it. For a traveling man like myself, I really enjoyed the setting of this film. The other was the ending. There is a bit of a surprise ending the film, so it wasn't a bore all the way through. There is also some pretty steamy sex scenes, but that might not be a redeeming quality.
I like Clooney and, again, I liked the premise to this film, but it just doesn't come off. Slow is the word of the day, and it doesn't work all that hard to keep the audiences' interest. Definitely not a movie to watch before you go to bed, you will probably end up sleeping on the couch. But if we put Jason Statham in the role.....
Verdict: Stick with the Bourne films. Grade: C
If you liked this movie you might like: Watching paint dry, or maybe watching grass grow.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
A Quick Note
I will be back shortly with some new material: Movie reviews! I have just...emm....acquired, if you will (The Moose and Tractor mate at midnight-code for any of my less than savory deeds) two "new" (newish?) films, George Clooney's "The American" and Angie Jolie's "Salt". As soon as I watch them, I will put down my thoughts.
Also, Arsenal play Stoke City on Saturday. I look forward to that, but if we somehow contrive to lose that affair, I will probably kill myself.
Back soon.
Also, Arsenal play Stoke City on Saturday. I look forward to that, but if we somehow contrive to lose that affair, I will probably kill myself.
Back soon.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Back to Egypt.....
Luke and I, after taking our felucca ride, also explored Downtown Cairo a little bit. Downtown is the more modern shopping area of the city. Of course, it was an an absolute sea of people, with even more cars jamming the streets. Some young guy waiting at a crosswalk said I looked Egyptian because I was sporting a beard (when in Rome....) and also that his brother had a perfume shop, and he just wanted to take us down there and give me a business card. Right. Obviously he thought I was born yesterday. No thanks fella. On the way back to the hotel we had the taxi driver stop at Anwar Sadat's tomb, a huge pyramid-like structure right across from the viewing platform where he was gunned down. That particular cab driver inquired if Luke and I were and item (with some amount of disgust I might add). I quickly put that one to rest. I mean, really?
The two of us young guns still had a day on our own the next day, and we decided to hire the friendly cab driver Sayed to take us to a few spots. We checked out the Citadel, an old fortress on a hill that has a large mosque and some museums within its walls. We walked around the outside of the military museum, which had some pretty neat stuff. We noticed a sign near the museum entrance written in Korean. Strange.....whats that doing here.....then we saw the English version. The gracious government of North Korea funded the building of the museum. Nice.
Sayed also kindly took us to another large mosque called Sultan Hassan. It was the mosque Obama visited when he made his speech in Cairo. First Obama came, then Adam (people love that joke. I used in in Shanghai with my girlfriend's parents when they mentioned Bill Clinton being there...killed 'em). Afterward, Sayed drove us through a part of the city known as the City of the Dead. It is an expansive old cemetery that, over the years and due to reasons of overpopulation and lack of formal housing, large numbers of people have actually moved into and begun living amongst the tombs. It is now a large, vibrant neighborhood. We saw coffee shops right next to mausoleums. The conditions were slum-like, with a number of feral dogs running about and garbage strewn everywhere and we only drove through briefly, but I think it was one of the most interesting parts of Cairo.
Our last day in Cairo, this time with Dad back in the team, we went to something called the October 1973 Panorama. It is a large panorama dedicated to Egypt's feats in the Yom Kippur War (or October War, depending which side you were on). Now, Egypt lost that one, but, you got to celebrate something, right? Visitors sit on a platform which slowly rotates around the diorama, which is part illustration and part three-dimensional model, depicting this one (and probably only) battle the Egyptian forces won over the Israelis. There was a voice-over and the necessary sound effects, like bombs going-off, as well. Of course, we couldn't understand a word of the voice-over because it was in Arabic. There was an English version, but tickets were two-hundred pounds each, compared to the twenty that we payed for Arabic. I think we got the gist of it anyway. What was even more fun was when we got out of the show. There were all these Egyptian kids, apparently on a class trip to learn more about their brave army. I got the feeling they really weren't city folk because we were rock-stars to these kids. They were really stoked to see foreigners. As we made our way to the exit, we were just swarmed by excited little kids. "Whats your name"? "Where are you from"? was about all they had for English vocabulary. Though one girl motioned at me and Luke, again, wanting to know the extent of our relationship. To the kids' delight, we snapped some photos of them, but their chaperons seemed to be getting pretty pissed, so we made our exit. I'll get some of the photos up here soon. Oh, and who built the Panorama? The government of North Korea.
Of course, with the Kwiats, you can't just end a trip without a little bit of awkwardness. We still had some time left to kill, and on the street outside the Panorama, Dad said there were some murals he wanted to see. He had the name of the street written in Arabic, but unfortunately we didn't think "mural" would compute with any taxi driver. So Dad, in all of his brilliance, drew a picture.
Dad's little sketch of a mural on a wall actually wasn't too bad. Of course it didn't work. He hailed a cab driver and showed him the sketch along with the street name. The driver had no idea went the hell this crazy white dude wanted. Dad of course kept on trying with him. I don't know why but, he did. Well, our position just so happened to be right outside of some kind of government building. The guards were getting a little jumpy with this cab sitting in the front of the entrance for such a long time. So now they wanted to help, to move the process along. One of the guys asked if we spoke German, winning the prize for most random question of the day. The cab driver was getting irked, because he thought we wanted to go to the Pyramids, which would have been a huge fare for him, when we just wanted to go somewhere along that street. The security personnel motioned that we could go inside the building, probably so they could beat us with hoses and phone books. I said to Dad "let's drop this, like right now". We quickly said thank-you and just walked on up the street to catch a ride back to the hotel.
The next morning Luke and I had an early flight to Frankfurt, Germany, where we would get a connection to Washington Dulles. It was around that time that Europe was getting hit with snow, so we got a little nervous. Luckily we dodged it, not even experiencing a delay.
With that the three-week European/African adventure came to a conclusion.About 30 seconds after I walked through our front door, I was already thinking: "Well, where to next"?
The two of us young guns still had a day on our own the next day, and we decided to hire the friendly cab driver Sayed to take us to a few spots. We checked out the Citadel, an old fortress on a hill that has a large mosque and some museums within its walls. We walked around the outside of the military museum, which had some pretty neat stuff. We noticed a sign near the museum entrance written in Korean. Strange.....whats that doing here.....then we saw the English version. The gracious government of North Korea funded the building of the museum. Nice.
Sayed also kindly took us to another large mosque called Sultan Hassan. It was the mosque Obama visited when he made his speech in Cairo. First Obama came, then Adam (people love that joke. I used in in Shanghai with my girlfriend's parents when they mentioned Bill Clinton being there...killed 'em). Afterward, Sayed drove us through a part of the city known as the City of the Dead. It is an expansive old cemetery that, over the years and due to reasons of overpopulation and lack of formal housing, large numbers of people have actually moved into and begun living amongst the tombs. It is now a large, vibrant neighborhood. We saw coffee shops right next to mausoleums. The conditions were slum-like, with a number of feral dogs running about and garbage strewn everywhere and we only drove through briefly, but I think it was one of the most interesting parts of Cairo.
Our last day in Cairo, this time with Dad back in the team, we went to something called the October 1973 Panorama. It is a large panorama dedicated to Egypt's feats in the Yom Kippur War (or October War, depending which side you were on). Now, Egypt lost that one, but, you got to celebrate something, right? Visitors sit on a platform which slowly rotates around the diorama, which is part illustration and part three-dimensional model, depicting this one (and probably only) battle the Egyptian forces won over the Israelis. There was a voice-over and the necessary sound effects, like bombs going-off, as well. Of course, we couldn't understand a word of the voice-over because it was in Arabic. There was an English version, but tickets were two-hundred pounds each, compared to the twenty that we payed for Arabic. I think we got the gist of it anyway. What was even more fun was when we got out of the show. There were all these Egyptian kids, apparently on a class trip to learn more about their brave army. I got the feeling they really weren't city folk because we were rock-stars to these kids. They were really stoked to see foreigners. As we made our way to the exit, we were just swarmed by excited little kids. "Whats your name"? "Where are you from"? was about all they had for English vocabulary. Though one girl motioned at me and Luke, again, wanting to know the extent of our relationship. To the kids' delight, we snapped some photos of them, but their chaperons seemed to be getting pretty pissed, so we made our exit. I'll get some of the photos up here soon. Oh, and who built the Panorama? The government of North Korea.
Of course, with the Kwiats, you can't just end a trip without a little bit of awkwardness. We still had some time left to kill, and on the street outside the Panorama, Dad said there were some murals he wanted to see. He had the name of the street written in Arabic, but unfortunately we didn't think "mural" would compute with any taxi driver. So Dad, in all of his brilliance, drew a picture.
Dad's little sketch of a mural on a wall actually wasn't too bad. Of course it didn't work. He hailed a cab driver and showed him the sketch along with the street name. The driver had no idea went the hell this crazy white dude wanted. Dad of course kept on trying with him. I don't know why but, he did. Well, our position just so happened to be right outside of some kind of government building. The guards were getting a little jumpy with this cab sitting in the front of the entrance for such a long time. So now they wanted to help, to move the process along. One of the guys asked if we spoke German, winning the prize for most random question of the day. The cab driver was getting irked, because he thought we wanted to go to the Pyramids, which would have been a huge fare for him, when we just wanted to go somewhere along that street. The security personnel motioned that we could go inside the building, probably so they could beat us with hoses and phone books. I said to Dad "let's drop this, like right now". We quickly said thank-you and just walked on up the street to catch a ride back to the hotel.
The next morning Luke and I had an early flight to Frankfurt, Germany, where we would get a connection to Washington Dulles. It was around that time that Europe was getting hit with snow, so we got a little nervous. Luckily we dodged it, not even experiencing a delay.
With that the three-week European/African adventure came to a conclusion.About 30 seconds after I walked through our front door, I was already thinking: "Well, where to next"?
Monday, December 13, 2010
We interrupt this broadcast.......
Taking a little break from travel.....
Arsenal play Manchester United today at 1500 Eastern time. Oh boy. Man U are historically our biggest rivals, and we absolutely need to win this game. I told Luke that, if he was staying after school, someone else had to go pick him up. This just can't be missed. I'm not big on religion but......lets just say if we win, I might reconsider some things. Our defense is just absolutely awful this season. The game is being played at Man U. The last game Man U had at home? The won 7-1. Great. Our defense, which ships goals left and right, up against a side that put in SEVEN goals in its last game. Fantastic. Despite our defensive weaknesses, we do have Samir Nasri, so far the best player in the Premier League this season. I am going to hold out hope that he can produce some magic, and that our defense finds some divine inspiration.
A cousin of mine, Paul, is a Man U fan. He rubbed it in my face once about Arsenal's recent poor performances against his team. If I have to face him over the holiday after yet another lose to Man U......
Right.....back to Egypt later.
Arsenal play Manchester United today at 1500 Eastern time. Oh boy. Man U are historically our biggest rivals, and we absolutely need to win this game. I told Luke that, if he was staying after school, someone else had to go pick him up. This just can't be missed. I'm not big on religion but......lets just say if we win, I might reconsider some things. Our defense is just absolutely awful this season. The game is being played at Man U. The last game Man U had at home? The won 7-1. Great. Our defense, which ships goals left and right, up against a side that put in SEVEN goals in its last game. Fantastic. Despite our defensive weaknesses, we do have Samir Nasri, so far the best player in the Premier League this season. I am going to hold out hope that he can produce some magic, and that our defense finds some divine inspiration.
A cousin of mine, Paul, is a Man U fan. He rubbed it in my face once about Arsenal's recent poor performances against his team. If I have to face him over the holiday after yet another lose to Man U......
Right.....back to Egypt later.
Cairo-Not just the Pyramids
So after the very first day we had done THE thing do to when in Egypt, those oh-so-famous pyramids. Great, mission accomplished. Well, not quite President Bush. Cairo still had a lot of to offer, and we stayed pretty busy for the next four days.
Cairo, if I did not get that point across earlier, is just a massive city. In a way it is kind of like Tokyo, a constellation of small cities that came together to form a massive urban conglomeration. There is Islamic Cairo, Coptic Cairo, Old Cairo, New Cairo, Downtown Cairo, and Giza. There are probably some more, but these are the main ones and the only ones that I know.
Every area of the city had something to offer, and I think we did a nice job covering all the main things. Again, what is unfortunate about Cairo is, given its size and lack of pedestrian infrastructure, a taxi is pretty much necessary wherever you go. Unless of course you are part of a tour group. Regarding that, we did not see many other foreigners out and about that weren't part of tour group. Dare to be different, thats the Kwiats. Taking taxis also means you WILL spend time in Cairo's soul-crushing traffic. It is actually quite an experience though, and, dare I say it, worth doing. Then when you think on how many Cairo residents, particularly taxi drivers, must spend literally hours each day stuck in traffic its, well, its kind of a depressing thought actually.
We did a number of things in Cairo that are worth writing down. For a fee (of course) we were taken up to the top of a minaret at the Al-Azhar mosque, the oldest and most important mosque in the city. From the top we were afforded a decent view of the city. I say decent because in Cairo, the pollution is just miserable. Again, lived in China for four months (I repeat: China) and I never experienced pollution like I did in Cairo. The Imam or whatever he was that took us up to the top of the minaret was also pretty pushy when it came to a tip (we already payed sixty pounds to the Mosque to go up). I guess even the religious aren't exempt from taking tips. Near the mosque was a large souk (market) that not only catered to tourists but also seemed to be where locals did their shopping. Wall-to-wall people in the souk. Official numbers put Cairo's population at 17 million. That number, frankly, is bullshit.
That same day we went to Coptic Cairo, the Christian area of the city. You actually had to pass through security in order to enter the area. Do I sense some tension? The "tourist area", which had some famous churches, was literally walled off from the housing area of Coptic Cairo. A set of rail tracks was located between the two areas, and there was a bridge to the other side. We took a quick look and yeah, it was definitely the other side of the tracks. I had heard before that the Christians of Cairo live in much poorer conditions. What I heard was right. I suppose I should mention that there is a church in Coptic Cairo, St. Sergius, where the Holy Family (allegedly) took refuge. Dad was pretty stoked about that.
On the days Dad had a conference to attend, Luke and I were on our own. Great, now I had someone else to look after. Saving Private Luke turned into Operation Keep Private Luke Alive. We did okay though. We took a felucca (a simple fisherman's boat) along the Nile. There were two guys, the Captain of the boat, and another guy who spoke some English that I negotiated with. He wanted 80 pounds, while I thought 65 for an hour on the Nile was a decent price. He said you are Americans, money to you is like, then made a waving motion with his hand, indicating that Americans could just throw money around. I told him we were South African. I got my price. We both really enjoyed the felucca ride, the pollution made visibility almost nil, but it was still fun. Interestingly, the Captain of the boat, whose English was about as good as my Arabic, was illiterate. I wanted to say something about the pollution being terrible, and I showed him the Arabic in my dictionary. He indicated he couldn't read it, only speak.
I have some more to tell, but we will wait for another post.
Cairo, if I did not get that point across earlier, is just a massive city. In a way it is kind of like Tokyo, a constellation of small cities that came together to form a massive urban conglomeration. There is Islamic Cairo, Coptic Cairo, Old Cairo, New Cairo, Downtown Cairo, and Giza. There are probably some more, but these are the main ones and the only ones that I know.
Every area of the city had something to offer, and I think we did a nice job covering all the main things. Again, what is unfortunate about Cairo is, given its size and lack of pedestrian infrastructure, a taxi is pretty much necessary wherever you go. Unless of course you are part of a tour group. Regarding that, we did not see many other foreigners out and about that weren't part of tour group. Dare to be different, thats the Kwiats. Taking taxis also means you WILL spend time in Cairo's soul-crushing traffic. It is actually quite an experience though, and, dare I say it, worth doing. Then when you think on how many Cairo residents, particularly taxi drivers, must spend literally hours each day stuck in traffic its, well, its kind of a depressing thought actually.
We did a number of things in Cairo that are worth writing down. For a fee (of course) we were taken up to the top of a minaret at the Al-Azhar mosque, the oldest and most important mosque in the city. From the top we were afforded a decent view of the city. I say decent because in Cairo, the pollution is just miserable. Again, lived in China for four months (I repeat: China) and I never experienced pollution like I did in Cairo. The Imam or whatever he was that took us up to the top of the minaret was also pretty pushy when it came to a tip (we already payed sixty pounds to the Mosque to go up). I guess even the religious aren't exempt from taking tips. Near the mosque was a large souk (market) that not only catered to tourists but also seemed to be where locals did their shopping. Wall-to-wall people in the souk. Official numbers put Cairo's population at 17 million. That number, frankly, is bullshit.
That same day we went to Coptic Cairo, the Christian area of the city. You actually had to pass through security in order to enter the area. Do I sense some tension? The "tourist area", which had some famous churches, was literally walled off from the housing area of Coptic Cairo. A set of rail tracks was located between the two areas, and there was a bridge to the other side. We took a quick look and yeah, it was definitely the other side of the tracks. I had heard before that the Christians of Cairo live in much poorer conditions. What I heard was right. I suppose I should mention that there is a church in Coptic Cairo, St. Sergius, where the Holy Family (allegedly) took refuge. Dad was pretty stoked about that.
On the days Dad had a conference to attend, Luke and I were on our own. Great, now I had someone else to look after. Saving Private Luke turned into Operation Keep Private Luke Alive. We did okay though. We took a felucca (a simple fisherman's boat) along the Nile. There were two guys, the Captain of the boat, and another guy who spoke some English that I negotiated with. He wanted 80 pounds, while I thought 65 for an hour on the Nile was a decent price. He said you are Americans, money to you is like, then made a waving motion with his hand, indicating that Americans could just throw money around. I told him we were South African. I got my price. We both really enjoyed the felucca ride, the pollution made visibility almost nil, but it was still fun. Interestingly, the Captain of the boat, whose English was about as good as my Arabic, was illiterate. I wanted to say something about the pollution being terrible, and I showed him the Arabic in my dictionary. He indicated he couldn't read it, only speak.
I have some more to tell, but we will wait for another post.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Story of the Pyramids-Continued
Anyway, after my dad indicated we might have an interest in riding a camel to this guy, who introduced himself as Muhammed and was dressed like a Bedouin, we had a friend. Great, I love making new friends. At first we shook him off, promising we would come back to that spot to look for him. He said to us that Dad was like a father to him and I was like his son to him, which was a pretty random thing to say.
After leaving him behind, we continued on to check out the pyramids. After a few minutes we turn around and, guess who is following us on horseback? Our good friend. He had his partner with him, camel in tow. Son of a bitch. I guess my promises weren't good enough for him. We moved on, and one of the guards standing by one of the pyramids motioned that the three of us could step over the rope surrounding the pyramid (great protection, that rope) and touch the pyramid. Wow, great. Not often you can get so close to one of the wonders of the World. After snapping some photos, the guard indicated he wanted a tip. That really restored my faith in Egypt's finest. Witnessing this from horseback, Muhammed said everyone at the pyramid site was dishonest. Apparently he was the exception.
We moved on to the next pyramid, with our guardian angel a little ways behind. We kept on scheming as to how to drop this guy. I was livid. Adam's travel tip #2: Whenever in an area with lots of pushers and hawkers, wait until you are done doing all that you want to do before you speak even a word to any of these guys. For exactly this reason. They will just follow and pester you if you show any interest whatsoever. Unfortunately Dad had made this mistake with Muhammed. It was hard to really enjoy walking around with these vultures circling.
At the next pyramid Muhammed and his buddies got close and we decided to confront him. Dad reiterated that Luke just wanted to sit on the stupid beast, not ride it. We came up with excuses, saying I was sick and couldn't ride. Muhammed disappeared around the corner and his friend let Luke get up on the camel. After about two minutes and a couple of photos, the fun was over. The guy, when offered five pounds, balked at it and got pissed. He said "some people 100 pounds, some people 50". If this idiot thought he was going to get 50 pounds for two minutes of sitting on his beast of burden, he had something coming. He kept on refusing my money, so I was prepared to walk away. Finally he took it and left us in peace.
We spent quite a bit more time around the pyramids after that, even walking down into a small tomb. A sign indicated no cameras, and the guard even searched for cameras. But when some good-looking Russian chicks started down the tunnel with CAMERAS IN THEIR HANDS, the guard relaxed a little bit. I waited outside with the cameras while Dad and Luke went down, so I witnessed this hypocrisy. When it was my turn, I used my iPod to take a photo down in the tomb, just out of spite.
A word on the pyramid area. I was pretty disappointed with Egyptian authorities and their protection of the nation's treasures. Garbage, mainly soda cans and chip bags, were strewn everywhere, mainly from the hawkers who stay in the area. In other places, not the pyramids, but some other ruins, have graffiti on them. It doesn't help either when the guards are seemingly open to bribery.
We spent the entire day out in the desert exploring pyramids. We were pretty beat upon getting back to the hotel, and could feel the dust and grit on our bodies. Welcome to Egypt.
After leaving him behind, we continued on to check out the pyramids. After a few minutes we turn around and, guess who is following us on horseback? Our good friend. He had his partner with him, camel in tow. Son of a bitch. I guess my promises weren't good enough for him. We moved on, and one of the guards standing by one of the pyramids motioned that the three of us could step over the rope surrounding the pyramid (great protection, that rope) and touch the pyramid. Wow, great. Not often you can get so close to one of the wonders of the World. After snapping some photos, the guard indicated he wanted a tip. That really restored my faith in Egypt's finest. Witnessing this from horseback, Muhammed said everyone at the pyramid site was dishonest. Apparently he was the exception.
We moved on to the next pyramid, with our guardian angel a little ways behind. We kept on scheming as to how to drop this guy. I was livid. Adam's travel tip #2: Whenever in an area with lots of pushers and hawkers, wait until you are done doing all that you want to do before you speak even a word to any of these guys. For exactly this reason. They will just follow and pester you if you show any interest whatsoever. Unfortunately Dad had made this mistake with Muhammed. It was hard to really enjoy walking around with these vultures circling.
At the next pyramid Muhammed and his buddies got close and we decided to confront him. Dad reiterated that Luke just wanted to sit on the stupid beast, not ride it. We came up with excuses, saying I was sick and couldn't ride. Muhammed disappeared around the corner and his friend let Luke get up on the camel. After about two minutes and a couple of photos, the fun was over. The guy, when offered five pounds, balked at it and got pissed. He said "some people 100 pounds, some people 50". If this idiot thought he was going to get 50 pounds for two minutes of sitting on his beast of burden, he had something coming. He kept on refusing my money, so I was prepared to walk away. Finally he took it and left us in peace.
We spent quite a bit more time around the pyramids after that, even walking down into a small tomb. A sign indicated no cameras, and the guard even searched for cameras. But when some good-looking Russian chicks started down the tunnel with CAMERAS IN THEIR HANDS, the guard relaxed a little bit. I waited outside with the cameras while Dad and Luke went down, so I witnessed this hypocrisy. When it was my turn, I used my iPod to take a photo down in the tomb, just out of spite.
A word on the pyramid area. I was pretty disappointed with Egyptian authorities and their protection of the nation's treasures. Garbage, mainly soda cans and chip bags, were strewn everywhere, mainly from the hawkers who stay in the area. In other places, not the pyramids, but some other ruins, have graffiti on them. It doesn't help either when the guards are seemingly open to bribery.
We spent the entire day out in the desert exploring pyramids. We were pretty beat upon getting back to the hotel, and could feel the dust and grit on our bodies. Welcome to Egypt.
The Pyramids-Walk like an Egyptian
What does one do when in Egypt? The Pyramids! No grass was going to grow under our feet, on our first full day in Cairo we set out for the last remaining ancient wonder of the World. There was a taxi driver who apparently waited outside the hotel for fares. There are really two kinds of taxis in Cairo, these black, beaten down Fiats that have no seat-belts in back and windows that can't shut and you have to negotiate the price. The Fiats do have meters, but they look they haven't ever really worked. The are also sleeker, white taxis that are metered. You can, however, negotiate with them as well. This particular driver, who told us his name was Sayed, drove one of the crappy Fiats. Our first ride in Cairo wasn't going to be an exercise in safety.
We negotiated a price of 50 pounds with Sayed (which would turn out to be pretty good). During the 45-minute journey to Giza, Sayed stopped at a couple of spots, namely a bridge overlooking the Nile, to let us take photos. A word on traffic in Egypt: Absolute insanity. Traffic laws are obviously just a suggestion in Egypt. I lived in China for over four months, and it could get pretty nuts over there too, but nothing rivaled Egyptian drivers. They would perform maneuvers that in the States would probably lead to an automatic revocation of one's license. The shear number of cars was unbelievable as well. Again, lived in China, never have I seen so many cars. The city was obviously planned without pedestrians in mind. Oh sure, there were some sidewalks, but crossing the street, that was something else. We would see people calmly dodging high-speed traffic like it was just another part of the day. To me, it looked like a high-stakes game of Frogger. People attempting to cross busy boulevards with seemingly total disregard for personal safety was a common sight for us during our stay in Egypt.
Sayed dropped us off close to the entrance to the Pyramids. Before we even got out of the taxi someone stuck his head in the window wanting to give us a camel ride. We must have been at the right place then. That and the large groups of white tourists with bush hats and cameras dangling from their necks tipped us off.
Getting into the Pyramid/Sphinx area proved something of a challenge. You have to purchase tickets at a window, where a guy slides the tickets under the window to you. Well, some old coot with about two teeth in his head who claimed he was a "government tour guide" immediately grabbed our tickets and told us to follow him. Excuse me old dude, but, no thanks. I tried taking the tickets from but he got pissed and said "Listen to me, I am government tour guide, you follow me, understand"?! Great.
Of course, the security personnel were of no help. You had to pass through a metal detector, and they just let this old idiot slide right through, even without a ticket. As we were walking towards the entrance I was trying to think of ways to shake this shyster. I finally said to him that there must be some sort of misunderstanding, we didn't want or need a tour guide, but just wanted to walk around ourselves. I whispered to Dad "for Christ's sake, GIVE him something" Dad offered him some coinage, but he balked at that, so I gave him a five-pound note. Giving up essentially one-dollar worth having our tickets given back to us and not having this toothless-Arab following us around. Old bastard.
That was not to be our last encounter with Egyptian guys wanting our money. Not by a long shot. We saw the Sphinx first, which is separated from the Pyramids by a high gate. Of course, some idiot kept on trying to offer us camel rides, despite my consistent refusal of "no thanks" in Arabic. After the Sphinx and walking up the road to the Pyramids Luke decided he would like to sit on a camel, not ride, but sit. Some guy came up to Dad, who was slightly ahead of me, soliciting camel rides. I was thinking to myself: "don't do it dad, don't do it".
He did. He mentioned maybe later we would be interested in some camel entertainment. Bad idea. Tune in later to find out why (this post is already too long)
We negotiated a price of 50 pounds with Sayed (which would turn out to be pretty good). During the 45-minute journey to Giza, Sayed stopped at a couple of spots, namely a bridge overlooking the Nile, to let us take photos. A word on traffic in Egypt: Absolute insanity. Traffic laws are obviously just a suggestion in Egypt. I lived in China for over four months, and it could get pretty nuts over there too, but nothing rivaled Egyptian drivers. They would perform maneuvers that in the States would probably lead to an automatic revocation of one's license. The shear number of cars was unbelievable as well. Again, lived in China, never have I seen so many cars. The city was obviously planned without pedestrians in mind. Oh sure, there were some sidewalks, but crossing the street, that was something else. We would see people calmly dodging high-speed traffic like it was just another part of the day. To me, it looked like a high-stakes game of Frogger. People attempting to cross busy boulevards with seemingly total disregard for personal safety was a common sight for us during our stay in Egypt.
Sayed dropped us off close to the entrance to the Pyramids. Before we even got out of the taxi someone stuck his head in the window wanting to give us a camel ride. We must have been at the right place then. That and the large groups of white tourists with bush hats and cameras dangling from their necks tipped us off.
Getting into the Pyramid/Sphinx area proved something of a challenge. You have to purchase tickets at a window, where a guy slides the tickets under the window to you. Well, some old coot with about two teeth in his head who claimed he was a "government tour guide" immediately grabbed our tickets and told us to follow him. Excuse me old dude, but, no thanks. I tried taking the tickets from but he got pissed and said "Listen to me, I am government tour guide, you follow me, understand"?! Great.
Of course, the security personnel were of no help. You had to pass through a metal detector, and they just let this old idiot slide right through, even without a ticket. As we were walking towards the entrance I was trying to think of ways to shake this shyster. I finally said to him that there must be some sort of misunderstanding, we didn't want or need a tour guide, but just wanted to walk around ourselves. I whispered to Dad "for Christ's sake, GIVE him something" Dad offered him some coinage, but he balked at that, so I gave him a five-pound note. Giving up essentially one-dollar worth having our tickets given back to us and not having this toothless-Arab following us around. Old bastard.
That was not to be our last encounter with Egyptian guys wanting our money. Not by a long shot. We saw the Sphinx first, which is separated from the Pyramids by a high gate. Of course, some idiot kept on trying to offer us camel rides, despite my consistent refusal of "no thanks" in Arabic. After the Sphinx and walking up the road to the Pyramids Luke decided he would like to sit on a camel, not ride, but sit. Some guy came up to Dad, who was slightly ahead of me, soliciting camel rides. I was thinking to myself: "don't do it dad, don't do it".
He did. He mentioned maybe later we would be interested in some camel entertainment. Bad idea. Tune in later to find out why (this post is already too long)
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Saving Private Luke-The Mission is a Man (well...not really)
Both Dad and I flew back via Madrid. He continued on to Cairo, but I held back in Madrid. Why, you ask? I was on a mission, straight from the top. After Luke's two-week stint in Segovia, he also wanted to go to Cairo with Dad and I. Only one issue, Mom and Dad didn't want him flying by himself. It fell to yours truly here to meet up with him in Madrid and shepherd him to Egypt. I arrived on the 26th, and I wasn't meeting him in the airport (the whole group went together to the airport) the next day. I had booked a hotel right near the airport and I knew what I was doing: Takin' it easy.
Well, you can't take it easy on an empty stomach. I found out there was a big mall ten minutes walk from my hotel. I went there and grabbed a quick dinner of that old classic: Mcdonalds. They didn't put the the Big Mac sauce on my Big Mac though. I was thinking, we should invade this country. I let it slide though, the cashier was pretty cute, and had a killer smile. I couldn't argue with that.
I met Luke the next day and the airport at eight in the morning. The rest of the students had an eleven o'clock flight. Our flight wasn't until three-thirty unfortunately. That meant a long day of waiting around in Madrid-Barajas airport.
The four-hour flight to Cairo combined with the one-hour time difference meant that we didn't arrive in Cairo until after ten at night. Dad, who you will remember arrived a day earlier, came with the hotel shuttle to meet us.
This was my first time on the African continent. Although I didn't come to look for Doctor Livingstone, I was understandably pretty stoked about this leg of the adventure. The night-time drive to the hotel was interesting, the driver from the hotel chatted with me in broken English and complimented my Arabic, which consisted of the words for "hello" and "thank-you". Unfortunately I found out his friendliness came with some conditions. Upon our arrival at the hotel he insisted on a large tip from Dad. We gave him twenty pounds, which is a little less than four dollars. He was pretty pushy though. Bastard. Before leaving the US, we learned from a neighbor who is Egyptian that it is commonplace for Egyptians to expect little tips for whatever they do. How true that would turn out to be.
The hotel, the Baron Palace Hotel, was close to the airport, meaning it was far from pretty much everything else. I for one definitely don't look for fancy hotels, as long as they are clean ( I once stayed at a hotel in Shanghai that had bugs crawling across the floor every now and then; didn't make for a comfortable stay). The Baron passed on cleanliness, so I wasn't gonna argue. We would, however, need to take a taxi whenever venturing out.
Saving Private Luke went off without a hitch. Five days in Africa's most populous city awaited us.
Well, you can't take it easy on an empty stomach. I found out there was a big mall ten minutes walk from my hotel. I went there and grabbed a quick dinner of that old classic: Mcdonalds. They didn't put the the Big Mac sauce on my Big Mac though. I was thinking, we should invade this country. I let it slide though, the cashier was pretty cute, and had a killer smile. I couldn't argue with that.
I met Luke the next day and the airport at eight in the morning. The rest of the students had an eleven o'clock flight. Our flight wasn't until three-thirty unfortunately. That meant a long day of waiting around in Madrid-Barajas airport.
The four-hour flight to Cairo combined with the one-hour time difference meant that we didn't arrive in Cairo until after ten at night. Dad, who you will remember arrived a day earlier, came with the hotel shuttle to meet us.
This was my first time on the African continent. Although I didn't come to look for Doctor Livingstone, I was understandably pretty stoked about this leg of the adventure. The night-time drive to the hotel was interesting, the driver from the hotel chatted with me in broken English and complimented my Arabic, which consisted of the words for "hello" and "thank-you". Unfortunately I found out his friendliness came with some conditions. Upon our arrival at the hotel he insisted on a large tip from Dad. We gave him twenty pounds, which is a little less than four dollars. He was pretty pushy though. Bastard. Before leaving the US, we learned from a neighbor who is Egyptian that it is commonplace for Egyptians to expect little tips for whatever they do. How true that would turn out to be.
The hotel, the Baron Palace Hotel, was close to the airport, meaning it was far from pretty much everything else. I for one definitely don't look for fancy hotels, as long as they are clean ( I once stayed at a hotel in Shanghai that had bugs crawling across the floor every now and then; didn't make for a comfortable stay). The Baron passed on cleanliness, so I wasn't gonna argue. We would, however, need to take a taxi whenever venturing out.
Saving Private Luke went off without a hitch. Five days in Africa's most populous city awaited us.
Lisbon-The Trains run on time (when the workers don't strike)
Wednesday, the day after the Oporto trip, Lisbon had a general transportation strike. We could never figure out the reason behind the strike, but I guess strikes are common enough that the locals didn't really seemed fazed by it. The strike came at a good time for us. We didn't really have anything planned for that day, and our flight from Lisbon was on Friday, when things would be back to normal. We spent the day just wandering around on foot, exploring some of the places we hadn't touched yet.
We did have something going on that night, however. The conference my dad had attended was having a dinner that night, and attendees could bring a guest. We had to walk to conference hotel, where a bus would take the whole crowd to a restaurant downtown, in the Alfama neighborhood. Now, this is a just a big crowd of computer scientists and engineers, people who, in my mind, are probably amongst the worst conversationalists on the planet. I knew I had a night of awkwardness ahead of me.
The crowded everyone (easily over 100 people) into this restaurant which was tucked away in Alfama's cobbled streets. It looked like it might be promising at first but, it wasn't. The food sucked and the conversation (as I predicted) was even worse. My dad and I didn't really know anyone, and the conversation with others didn't go beyond "could you pass the water"? One thing that was interesting was about halfway through the meal a singer and two guitar players hit the stage. I was hoping for some sexy Portuguese babe, but it was just some of old bat. She was pretty good though.
We ended up leaving early, so as to put me out of my misery. Instead of going straight back we took a cab to a bar near our hotel that we had heard about. It was called the Bar Chines (The Chinese Bar). It was pretty wild. The owner was obviously a collector of the most random stuff ever. He then put all that junk in his bar. Mainly random toys, but also paintings and photographs. It was a pretty fascinating place, and the guys working the bar didn't mind us looking around and taking photos (well, my dad did the photo taking, I didn't bring my camera, thinking the dinner with engineers wouldn't be photo worthy). If you are wondering why it was called the Chinese Bar, I don't either. The name really didn't make any sense.
We also ended up spending Thanksgiving in Lisbon. No turkey dinner unfortunately, but our room did have a kitchenette which we used to make chicken soup and salami sandwiches, with some chips to top it off. The pilgrims couldn't have done better than that.
An overall good time in Portugal. The last leg of the trip, Egypt, was coming up. I first had business to attend to in Madrid.
We did have something going on that night, however. The conference my dad had attended was having a dinner that night, and attendees could bring a guest. We had to walk to conference hotel, where a bus would take the whole crowd to a restaurant downtown, in the Alfama neighborhood. Now, this is a just a big crowd of computer scientists and engineers, people who, in my mind, are probably amongst the worst conversationalists on the planet. I knew I had a night of awkwardness ahead of me.
The crowded everyone (easily over 100 people) into this restaurant which was tucked away in Alfama's cobbled streets. It looked like it might be promising at first but, it wasn't. The food sucked and the conversation (as I predicted) was even worse. My dad and I didn't really know anyone, and the conversation with others didn't go beyond "could you pass the water"? One thing that was interesting was about halfway through the meal a singer and two guitar players hit the stage. I was hoping for some sexy Portuguese babe, but it was just some of old bat. She was pretty good though.
We ended up leaving early, so as to put me out of my misery. Instead of going straight back we took a cab to a bar near our hotel that we had heard about. It was called the Bar Chines (The Chinese Bar). It was pretty wild. The owner was obviously a collector of the most random stuff ever. He then put all that junk in his bar. Mainly random toys, but also paintings and photographs. It was a pretty fascinating place, and the guys working the bar didn't mind us looking around and taking photos (well, my dad did the photo taking, I didn't bring my camera, thinking the dinner with engineers wouldn't be photo worthy). If you are wondering why it was called the Chinese Bar, I don't either. The name really didn't make any sense.
We also ended up spending Thanksgiving in Lisbon. No turkey dinner unfortunately, but our room did have a kitchenette which we used to make chicken soup and salami sandwiches, with some chips to top it off. The pilgrims couldn't have done better than that.
An overall good time in Portugal. The last leg of the trip, Egypt, was coming up. I first had business to attend to in Madrid.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Oporto
On the day my dad had business to attend to, I took the morning train (0800) to Oporto. Oporto is about two and half hours north of Lisbon. This time I was more able to enjoy the ride up, and I was impressed with what I saw of outside-the-city Portugal.
Not to much to say on Oporto. This of course doesn't mean that it was poor by any means. I had a good time exploring the city, though there is not an incredible amount for the tourist. Walking along the water front, on both sides (the city is split by a river) was nice, and I was able to find a couple of elevated spots that offered great views of the city. I also found my favorite piece of graffiti of the trip in Oporto. A lot of graffiti is just mindless drivel that looks like trash, but some are pretty creative and funny. Someone had painted a picture of Bob Marley smoking a joint, and above that wrote: "Nah, let me spliff". Good for a laugh. The photo I took will follow.
One other thing. I probably shouldn't own up to this but, confession time. I free-rode a little bit, well, a lot in Oporto. The city has an ultra-modern subway/tram system. A little too modern. There are no turn-styles. There is just a scanner where you validate your ticket. It is run completely on the honor system. Well, the frugal traveler (I probably shouldn't use that term, that's the name of a New York Times travel columnist. Please don't sue NYT, I love your paper) here wasn't very honorable. It was 1.50 euros a ticket and, come on, we are looking to save money here. My apologies to the city of Oporto.
I didn't leave the city until dusk. I hopped the train back to Lisbon and enjoyed my copy of "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" the whole ride back.
Luckily I timed my day trip right. The next day, a Wednesday, there was a general transportation strike.
Not to much to say on Oporto. This of course doesn't mean that it was poor by any means. I had a good time exploring the city, though there is not an incredible amount for the tourist. Walking along the water front, on both sides (the city is split by a river) was nice, and I was able to find a couple of elevated spots that offered great views of the city. I also found my favorite piece of graffiti of the trip in Oporto. A lot of graffiti is just mindless drivel that looks like trash, but some are pretty creative and funny. Someone had painted a picture of Bob Marley smoking a joint, and above that wrote: "Nah, let me spliff". Good for a laugh. The photo I took will follow.
One other thing. I probably shouldn't own up to this but, confession time. I free-rode a little bit, well, a lot in Oporto. The city has an ultra-modern subway/tram system. A little too modern. There are no turn-styles. There is just a scanner where you validate your ticket. It is run completely on the honor system. Well, the frugal traveler (I probably shouldn't use that term, that's the name of a New York Times travel columnist. Please don't sue NYT, I love your paper) here wasn't very honorable. It was 1.50 euros a ticket and, come on, we are looking to save money here. My apologies to the city of Oporto.
I didn't leave the city until dusk. I hopped the train back to Lisbon and enjoyed my copy of "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" the whole ride back.
Luckily I timed my day trip right. The next day, a Wednesday, there was a general transportation strike.
Lisbon
The girls came with me to the airport in Barcelona, though their flight to Miami was a couple hours later than my flight to Lisbon. We parted ways after going through security, they were headed home, and I was continuing the adventure.
I landed in Lisbon about an hour before my dad arrived from the States, so I used the time to find out how to get to hotel and then caught up on some reading. He arrived on time and we met in the arrivals area. Then we were underway.
I liked Lisbon right of the bat. The weather was warmer, for one thing. Lisbon is also not that large a city, despite being a capital. It had a smaller feel to it, which was nice seeing as I spent the past week in two large cities, both geographically and in terms of population. In Lisbon one felt like you could cover the city just on the foot, and the streets were not just packed with people. I was impressed with the people too. Very friendly. When we opened up a map in search of our hotel, an older gentlemen came and offered to help, albeit in Portuguese. In Spain, you got the feeling the locals wanted nothing to do with you. Spaniards, I like your country but, come one, whats up with that?
We stayed in the northern part of the city, which appeared to be the more commercial district, but this was not far from the city's waterfront, which is where Lisbon earns its keep. The old town, known as Alfama, is a really charming area and I probably could have spent the entire time there. Again, I'll get some photos up here that I took of the neighborhood. One highlight of the time in Lisbon was Trolley 28. Lisbon has a really efficient public transportation system, including a subway system and above-ground trams. The city also holds on to some relic trolleys. One of these is Trolley 28. The trolley essentially runs the scenic route through Lisbon, navigating Alfama's narrow and cobbled streets.
Our first two days in Lisbon went well. My illness was gone for good and I had a good impression of the city. On the third day Lisbon was put on hold, I had a day trip to Oporto.
I landed in Lisbon about an hour before my dad arrived from the States, so I used the time to find out how to get to hotel and then caught up on some reading. He arrived on time and we met in the arrivals area. Then we were underway.
I liked Lisbon right of the bat. The weather was warmer, for one thing. Lisbon is also not that large a city, despite being a capital. It had a smaller feel to it, which was nice seeing as I spent the past week in two large cities, both geographically and in terms of population. In Lisbon one felt like you could cover the city just on the foot, and the streets were not just packed with people. I was impressed with the people too. Very friendly. When we opened up a map in search of our hotel, an older gentlemen came and offered to help, albeit in Portuguese. In Spain, you got the feeling the locals wanted nothing to do with you. Spaniards, I like your country but, come one, whats up with that?
We stayed in the northern part of the city, which appeared to be the more commercial district, but this was not far from the city's waterfront, which is where Lisbon earns its keep. The old town, known as Alfama, is a really charming area and I probably could have spent the entire time there. Again, I'll get some photos up here that I took of the neighborhood. One highlight of the time in Lisbon was Trolley 28. Lisbon has a really efficient public transportation system, including a subway system and above-ground trams. The city also holds on to some relic trolleys. One of these is Trolley 28. The trolley essentially runs the scenic route through Lisbon, navigating Alfama's narrow and cobbled streets.
Our first two days in Lisbon went well. My illness was gone for good and I had a good impression of the city. On the third day Lisbon was put on hold, I had a day trip to Oporto.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Barcelona-Part Dos
I mentioned Antonin Gaudi earlier. Well, here he is again. Barcelona's main site is something called La Sagradia Familia, a huge church designed by Gaudi. The three of us went to see this architectural wonder on our last day in Barcelona. There is a subway stop right outside the church and, as we emerged, I saw the line of tourists waiting to get in and thought, "shit, should have got up a little bit earlier". It was okay though, the line moved fast and within a half hour we were in. I was impressed. La Sagrada Familia is a church like nothing I have seen before. I am not going to even bother describing it. I am hoping to post some photos here a little later, and I will include some of the Sagrada. What is more amazing, is the fact that the church isn't even finished being built. Construction started in 1924, and completion is projected for 2030. Wow, must be some pretty thick red tape in Spain there.
The inside of the church wasn't as impressive as the exterior, still impressive though. It also provided me with THE comedic moment of the trip. My sister's friend, who will remain anonymous for obvious reasons, really made my day. La Sagrada Familia, folks, is obviously a church. I mean, Jesus is just hanging everywhere, there is an altar, pews, and sign that says "Quiet during services" and Hayley's friend comes up to me and, in all seriousness, asks "Is this a church"? My response was "Did you just seriously ask me that question"? She said that she wasn't sure. I'm just going to let that one sink in. For all who may go to Barcelona after reading this: Yeah, its a church.
I let the gals go off on their own for the rest of the day, and I was going to see water. The waterfront area was the only part of the city that I really hadn't seen yet, and I wanted to check it out. I enjoyed my time there. The weather held for me, which helped. Parts of the waterfront area have a real small, sea-side village feel to them and I enjoyed exploring the streets. Something neat that I encountered was the beach area. Obviously given the cooler weather there were no beach revelers, but I was able to catch site of some African immigrants making sand art. One guy had a huge dragon surrounding a castle that he was working one. He put little candles in the nostrils of the dragon for flame effect. Again, I will try to get the photos up here. I sat down along the boardwalk and watched these guys go to work with sand and listened to my iPod for a while, winding down a little bit after a long week in Spain.
I could feel myself getting back to fighting form, my mystery illness was beginning to disappear. It was good timing, Portugal was next.
The inside of the church wasn't as impressive as the exterior, still impressive though. It also provided me with THE comedic moment of the trip. My sister's friend, who will remain anonymous for obvious reasons, really made my day. La Sagrada Familia, folks, is obviously a church. I mean, Jesus is just hanging everywhere, there is an altar, pews, and sign that says "Quiet during services" and Hayley's friend comes up to me and, in all seriousness, asks "Is this a church"? My response was "Did you just seriously ask me that question"? She said that she wasn't sure. I'm just going to let that one sink in. For all who may go to Barcelona after reading this: Yeah, its a church.
I let the gals go off on their own for the rest of the day, and I was going to see water. The waterfront area was the only part of the city that I really hadn't seen yet, and I wanted to check it out. I enjoyed my time there. The weather held for me, which helped. Parts of the waterfront area have a real small, sea-side village feel to them and I enjoyed exploring the streets. Something neat that I encountered was the beach area. Obviously given the cooler weather there were no beach revelers, but I was able to catch site of some African immigrants making sand art. One guy had a huge dragon surrounding a castle that he was working one. He put little candles in the nostrils of the dragon for flame effect. Again, I will try to get the photos up here. I sat down along the boardwalk and watched these guys go to work with sand and listened to my iPod for a while, winding down a little bit after a long week in Spain.
I could feel myself getting back to fighting form, my mystery illness was beginning to disappear. It was good timing, Portugal was next.
Barcelona Blues
Luckily our hotel was right outside the train station in Barcelona (as soon as you walked out doors, there it was), because upon our arrival I was not in the mood for a long journey to go find our accommodations. In hind-sight the hotel's location was really not very good, for a subway ride was required virtually every time we ventured out.
Unfortunately my time in Barcelona was somewhat marred by the fact that I felt like trash for the entire four days we were there. But hey, when Adam is on the road, nothing is going to stop him (well, bullets probably would, yeah, bullets would do it). Luckily, and oddly, whenever I was out and about I would feel okay, the body aches weren't too serious, though I would get tired out pretty easy and didn't have any appetite. Whenever I got back to the room though, I really began to feel miserable.
I have to admit I actually did go to a museum in Barcelona, and not against my will. This museum is actually Barcelona's most visited: The museum in the Nou Camp, stadium of FC Barcelona. I mentioned in my first post I am a big football fan (Americans, don't get confused here), it is really the only sport I can watch for any length of time. Well, in Spain, football is pretty big, and FC Barcelona is no exception. It is like the second religion to the people of the city. I just had to check out its cathedral, known as the Nou Camp. It was actually really interesting, not just seeing the field and what not, but also the adjoining museum. It gave the history of the club and an exhibition of all of its trophies, but also had a really interesting exhibit on the teams efforts in third-world countries. Many teams have sponsors on their jerseys, obviously the team gets money from whatever company they allow to advertise on their shirts. Well, Barca's shirt sponsor is Unicef. Instead of getting money from Unicef (which would be kind of messed up) the team donates every month to the organization. Mas que un club (or Mes que un club in Catalan). That's "more than a club" for you English cruds. And no, I didn't make the poor girls come along with me on that venture. I spared them.
Despite my mysterious illness (my pharmacist companions changed their diagnosis on a daily basis: Just a stomach virus, maybe the flu? No, can't be that....well...maybe) I really enjoyed Barcelona. Its hard to put a finger on what is really was that made me so like the city, but Barcelona, which is huge in geographic size, feels like the place that has it all. An old town, more modern shopping areas, lively marketplaces, a waterfront, a diverse population (lots of immigrants, mainly from Latin America), really interesting architecture (your humble writer is also a big fan of architecture, and Antonin Gaudi's work was really something else. His style is really difficult to describe, its something you have to see for yourself. It is definitely unique.The guy must of done crazy drugs). The weather was also a little better, probably because of its proximity to water.
The aforementioned Messr. Gaudi provided me with a good deal of entertainment during my time in Barca. I visited Parc Guell, a public park in the north of the city that he designed. I went at dusk, and, of course, to reach to park one must walk up a serious of steep streets, which, in my condition at the time, nearly killed me. But it was worth it though. The park had some pretty nutty sculptures in it (again, Gaudi, what did you smoke?) and offered good views of the city at night. I also did something pretty cool before I left the park. There was a small outdoor football field set up right next to the park. A large group of immigrant kids (how could one tell in the fading light? They had a much darker complexion that Spaniards, and dressed totally unlike Spanish people). I had a really good time watching the kids play away, a nice insight into how youth sometimes spend their time in the city.
Leaving the Parc Guell of course wasn't so much fun. My appetite made a miraculous come back, so I spotted a small restaurant by the park that advertised a plate of spaghetti for 4.90 euros, hell, you can't even get kebab for that cheap! I went in and ordered, and I was told a drink was required. I didn't like it, but I thought to myself, okay, I'll play your game you rogue, and got a Fanta for the princely sum of 2.40 euros. Whatever, cheap spaghetti right? They also brought a basket of bread, so bonus. Well, I ate my meal and went to the counter to pay. Bill comes to over nine euros! I asked (yeah, they spoke English, my Spanish is pretty mal) in my most polite way, what the hell was going on. Well, a one euro charge for service and then an extra euro for the bread. Well, I didn't order the bread. They informed me I was out of touch with the Spanish ways. In restaurants, you always get the bread, if you don't want it, you have to refuse it. I thought to myself, this guy behind the counter is lying through his teeth. Its okay, I thought, just pay up and be done with it. Like George W. said, fool me twice, you ain't gonna fool me again. I also thought to myself, to hell with everyone in this establishment.
Okay, my last thoughts on Barca in the next post, I don't want these posts to get too long, for the readers' sake.
Unfortunately my time in Barcelona was somewhat marred by the fact that I felt like trash for the entire four days we were there. But hey, when Adam is on the road, nothing is going to stop him (well, bullets probably would, yeah, bullets would do it). Luckily, and oddly, whenever I was out and about I would feel okay, the body aches weren't too serious, though I would get tired out pretty easy and didn't have any appetite. Whenever I got back to the room though, I really began to feel miserable.
I have to admit I actually did go to a museum in Barcelona, and not against my will. This museum is actually Barcelona's most visited: The museum in the Nou Camp, stadium of FC Barcelona. I mentioned in my first post I am a big football fan (Americans, don't get confused here), it is really the only sport I can watch for any length of time. Well, in Spain, football is pretty big, and FC Barcelona is no exception. It is like the second religion to the people of the city. I just had to check out its cathedral, known as the Nou Camp. It was actually really interesting, not just seeing the field and what not, but also the adjoining museum. It gave the history of the club and an exhibition of all of its trophies, but also had a really interesting exhibit on the teams efforts in third-world countries. Many teams have sponsors on their jerseys, obviously the team gets money from whatever company they allow to advertise on their shirts. Well, Barca's shirt sponsor is Unicef. Instead of getting money from Unicef (which would be kind of messed up) the team donates every month to the organization. Mas que un club (or Mes que un club in Catalan). That's "more than a club" for you English cruds. And no, I didn't make the poor girls come along with me on that venture. I spared them.
Despite my mysterious illness (my pharmacist companions changed their diagnosis on a daily basis: Just a stomach virus, maybe the flu? No, can't be that....well...maybe) I really enjoyed Barcelona. Its hard to put a finger on what is really was that made me so like the city, but Barcelona, which is huge in geographic size, feels like the place that has it all. An old town, more modern shopping areas, lively marketplaces, a waterfront, a diverse population (lots of immigrants, mainly from Latin America), really interesting architecture (your humble writer is also a big fan of architecture, and Antonin Gaudi's work was really something else. His style is really difficult to describe, its something you have to see for yourself. It is definitely unique.The guy must of done crazy drugs). The weather was also a little better, probably because of its proximity to water.
The aforementioned Messr. Gaudi provided me with a good deal of entertainment during my time in Barca. I visited Parc Guell, a public park in the north of the city that he designed. I went at dusk, and, of course, to reach to park one must walk up a serious of steep streets, which, in my condition at the time, nearly killed me. But it was worth it though. The park had some pretty nutty sculptures in it (again, Gaudi, what did you smoke?) and offered good views of the city at night. I also did something pretty cool before I left the park. There was a small outdoor football field set up right next to the park. A large group of immigrant kids (how could one tell in the fading light? They had a much darker complexion that Spaniards, and dressed totally unlike Spanish people). I had a really good time watching the kids play away, a nice insight into how youth sometimes spend their time in the city.
Leaving the Parc Guell of course wasn't so much fun. My appetite made a miraculous come back, so I spotted a small restaurant by the park that advertised a plate of spaghetti for 4.90 euros, hell, you can't even get kebab for that cheap! I went in and ordered, and I was told a drink was required. I didn't like it, but I thought to myself, okay, I'll play your game you rogue, and got a Fanta for the princely sum of 2.40 euros. Whatever, cheap spaghetti right? They also brought a basket of bread, so bonus. Well, I ate my meal and went to the counter to pay. Bill comes to over nine euros! I asked (yeah, they spoke English, my Spanish is pretty mal) in my most polite way, what the hell was going on. Well, a one euro charge for service and then an extra euro for the bread. Well, I didn't order the bread. They informed me I was out of touch with the Spanish ways. In restaurants, you always get the bread, if you don't want it, you have to refuse it. I thought to myself, this guy behind the counter is lying through his teeth. Its okay, I thought, just pay up and be done with it. Like George W. said, fool me twice, you ain't gonna fool me again. I also thought to myself, to hell with everyone in this establishment.
Okay, my last thoughts on Barca in the next post, I don't want these posts to get too long, for the readers' sake.
Barcelona
The trip to Barcelona, Spain's architectural capital, didn't start off on the right foot. We took the 0800 train from Madrid Atocha, which meant we had to get up at about six o'clock the morning of departure. Unfortunately I barely slept that night, for reasons unknown, and woke up feeling like I just lost a battle with a bulldozer. My entire body ached and my stomach felt off (I mean, really off). Luckily we had a subway stop right next to our apartment, which would take us right to the train station. At least I didn't have to feel miserable AND walk in the rain for very long. Carrying my heavy suitcase up and down steps while feeling like car-accident victim I could have done without, however.
Despite being under physical duress we were able to make to Atocha and hop on our train without incident. On a side note, I have to say I was quite impressed with Madrid's principal train station. A shiny and modern facility, fit with moving belts that take passengers down to the platforms. The trains were right on the button as well. Nicely done Madrid, nicely done.
Whenever on travel, I try to make a point of taking a train. I feel this way you have an opportunity to see "the in-between", that is, the life outside of the big city. It is something that I really look forward to, and I have done it in almost every country I have visited. This time, I really just wanted to sleep. Like I mentioned earlier, I had about three hours from the previous night. I did cork off for a good portion of the two-hour trip between Madrid and Barcelona, but I did make a point of looking out the window and catching a glimpse rural Spanish life. It is hard to get a good view from a fast-moving train, but I saw a fair share of old, ramshackle farm-houses and plots of farmland, sometimes complete with the old tractor. I remember thinking to myself, wow, this kind of looks like China. Now that is not necessarily a bad thing. Whenever I took a train in China I would spent most of the trip just looking out the window. I found rural China appeared quite charming. Again, this is from the inside of a train. China being China, what I was seeing could have looked okay, but probably stunk of pollution and had cancer rates through the roof.
Arrived into Barcelona-Sants train station at around ten-thirty. Welcome to Catalan country.
Despite being under physical duress we were able to make to Atocha and hop on our train without incident. On a side note, I have to say I was quite impressed with Madrid's principal train station. A shiny and modern facility, fit with moving belts that take passengers down to the platforms. The trains were right on the button as well. Nicely done Madrid, nicely done.
Whenever on travel, I try to make a point of taking a train. I feel this way you have an opportunity to see "the in-between", that is, the life outside of the big city. It is something that I really look forward to, and I have done it in almost every country I have visited. This time, I really just wanted to sleep. Like I mentioned earlier, I had about three hours from the previous night. I did cork off for a good portion of the two-hour trip between Madrid and Barcelona, but I did make a point of looking out the window and catching a glimpse rural Spanish life. It is hard to get a good view from a fast-moving train, but I saw a fair share of old, ramshackle farm-houses and plots of farmland, sometimes complete with the old tractor. I remember thinking to myself, wow, this kind of looks like China. Now that is not necessarily a bad thing. Whenever I took a train in China I would spent most of the trip just looking out the window. I found rural China appeared quite charming. Again, this is from the inside of a train. China being China, what I was seeing could have looked okay, but probably stunk of pollution and had cancer rates through the roof.
Arrived into Barcelona-Sants train station at around ten-thirty. Welcome to Catalan country.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Madrid-The Rain in Spain......
I would suggest against traveling to Spain in the last months of the year. It was cold and rainy the four days I spent in Madrid. I had heard that many British citizens come to Spain after retirement because of the weather. I was beginning to seriously doubt the judgment of our British brothers and sisters after the weather I encountered. Any ventures out required at least a jacket, and sometimes I had to throw my sweatshirt on under that. The weather didn't put too much of a damper on our time, however. Seventy and sunny would have been nice though.
This was my first time with a travel partner (well, partners in this case) that wasn't (weren't) my father, so I wasn't so sure how it would come off. I have my own style when it comes to traveling, one that I am not sure will suit others. For instance, I really don't do museums, unless they have some sort of outstanding element (I made an exception for the Louvre, for example) or pertain to my interests (Warsaw Uprising Museum in Warsaw, Poland or D-Day Museum in New Orleans). I am not a "food tourist", I so I don't eat out at fancy places, I seek the cheap stuff (Adam's Travel tip #1: In Europe, Turkish kebab places are generally the cheapest option I can find. Average of about 5 euros for a big kebab sandwich. It is also quick, good tasting, and really filling). I am not a big shopper either, to give a few examples of my travel style. So I wasn't so sure how things would go over with two girls, both of whom have lots of money to spend (two pharmacists, yeah, there's a lot of money in that). Add on top of this that I was instructed to essentially be the guide for the two girls (my mom told me before I left: Make sure they have a good time. Thanks mom), I anticipated a clash of styles.
Luckily I was wrong. Aside from the aforementioned miserable weather, our time in Madrid went quite well. My two partners in travel were more than willing to have me take them around, as long as we were heading towards one of Madrid's main sites, and, dear readers, I won't steer you wrong. They also were not big into museums, which was particularly fortuitous, since Madrid is one of the museum capitals of the world. We did go into the Prado (Madrid's main one) on the girls' first day in country. Two reasons for this. It was raining incredibly hard, making walking around a little difficult, and it was free that day. We were in and out in about thirty minutes. If there are any art enthusiasts reading this, I apologize. Museums, particularly art museums, just don't do it for me.
Our four days in Madrid we unmarked by an spectacular events, at least anything that would make for good reading. I should mention that my very first day in the city, before the girls arrived, I went to go see the Stadio Santiago Bernabeu, the stadium which the city's main football team, Real Madrid, play in. It was my lucky day, for it seemed to be motorcycle enthusiasts day. THOUSANDS of people on motorcycles covered the streets around the stadium, blocking traffic and pissing off a lot of motorists. The line of people on motorcycles stretched beyond my vision. Unfortunately I was never able to find out what the hell was going on, but it was worth a few photos anyway. We covered most of the main sites the city had to offer, as well as some more. I took the girls to see the memorial to the March 2004 subway bombing victims. It is by the main train station (Atocha) and is somewhat confusing, because it is visible outside, but you must go into the train station and actually walk under the memorial. It is quite moving, as there are several messages of condolence written in different languages all of the memorial. One other note on our time in Madrid: Our apartment as I mentioned before was located on a street called Calle Magdelena. The street was right in the heart of an immigrant neighborhood, predominately Chinese, along with Afghans, Indians, and Africans. Many of the shops/groceries in the area were Chinese operated. The stories of immigrants, particularly those in Europe, is something of great interest to me. I was more than happy to spend a few days in what seemed to be the heart of immigrant live. If I had more time, I would like to venture out with not a book-bag and guidebook, but a notepad and pencil and see if I can learn some of the experiences of these people. Next time I guess.
The time in Madrid went by fast. A long-time target of mine was next: Barcelona.
This was my first time with a travel partner (well, partners in this case) that wasn't (weren't) my father, so I wasn't so sure how it would come off. I have my own style when it comes to traveling, one that I am not sure will suit others. For instance, I really don't do museums, unless they have some sort of outstanding element (I made an exception for the Louvre, for example) or pertain to my interests (Warsaw Uprising Museum in Warsaw, Poland or D-Day Museum in New Orleans). I am not a "food tourist", I so I don't eat out at fancy places, I seek the cheap stuff (Adam's Travel tip #1: In Europe, Turkish kebab places are generally the cheapest option I can find. Average of about 5 euros for a big kebab sandwich. It is also quick, good tasting, and really filling). I am not a big shopper either, to give a few examples of my travel style. So I wasn't so sure how things would go over with two girls, both of whom have lots of money to spend (two pharmacists, yeah, there's a lot of money in that). Add on top of this that I was instructed to essentially be the guide for the two girls (my mom told me before I left: Make sure they have a good time. Thanks mom), I anticipated a clash of styles.
Luckily I was wrong. Aside from the aforementioned miserable weather, our time in Madrid went quite well. My two partners in travel were more than willing to have me take them around, as long as we were heading towards one of Madrid's main sites, and, dear readers, I won't steer you wrong. They also were not big into museums, which was particularly fortuitous, since Madrid is one of the museum capitals of the world. We did go into the Prado (Madrid's main one) on the girls' first day in country. Two reasons for this. It was raining incredibly hard, making walking around a little difficult, and it was free that day. We were in and out in about thirty minutes. If there are any art enthusiasts reading this, I apologize. Museums, particularly art museums, just don't do it for me.
Our four days in Madrid we unmarked by an spectacular events, at least anything that would make for good reading. I should mention that my very first day in the city, before the girls arrived, I went to go see the Stadio Santiago Bernabeu, the stadium which the city's main football team, Real Madrid, play in. It was my lucky day, for it seemed to be motorcycle enthusiasts day. THOUSANDS of people on motorcycles covered the streets around the stadium, blocking traffic and pissing off a lot of motorists. The line of people on motorcycles stretched beyond my vision. Unfortunately I was never able to find out what the hell was going on, but it was worth a few photos anyway. We covered most of the main sites the city had to offer, as well as some more. I took the girls to see the memorial to the March 2004 subway bombing victims. It is by the main train station (Atocha) and is somewhat confusing, because it is visible outside, but you must go into the train station and actually walk under the memorial. It is quite moving, as there are several messages of condolence written in different languages all of the memorial. One other note on our time in Madrid: Our apartment as I mentioned before was located on a street called Calle Magdelena. The street was right in the heart of an immigrant neighborhood, predominately Chinese, along with Afghans, Indians, and Africans. Many of the shops/groceries in the area were Chinese operated. The stories of immigrants, particularly those in Europe, is something of great interest to me. I was more than happy to spend a few days in what seemed to be the heart of immigrant live. If I had more time, I would like to venture out with not a book-bag and guidebook, but a notepad and pencil and see if I can learn some of the experiences of these people. Next time I guess.
The time in Madrid went by fast. A long-time target of mine was next: Barcelona.
Madrid-An Introduction
I left for Madrid, Spain, on Friday, November 12th. I was actually traveling with my younger brother, Luke, as he was traveling with a group of his fellow students (all-girls, as it were, he was the only guy) for a two-week study abroad session. Yeah, so that meant I was on a plane filled with about fifteen high school girls. Luckily Luke and I were able to sit some distance away, so I was spared having to hear conversations about Justin Bieber and Jersey Shore. The the trans-Atlantic flight went without incident, though at one point I saw the chaperon for the group, Luke's former Spanish teacher, playing with a sock puppet. Luke assured me that I wasn't seeing things, and that, yes, she was in-fact playing with a sock puppet. Apparently the in-flight entertainment, Liam Neeson's instant classic The A-Team wasn't good enough. We could only shake our heads in dismay.
Upon arrival in Spain I was able to break off from the high-school group and their sock-puppet friends, as they would be spending their time in Segovia, a smaller city about 40-minutes drive from Madrid. Now, my older sister Hayley and her friend Justine would be arriving the next day, and we would be traveling together. As it stood though, my first day in Iberia was going to be spent on my own.
The three of us would stay in an apartment my dear sister had found and booked online. I of course had to stay in a hotel my first night. After finding and settling in to my room, I decided it would be wise for me to go and scout out this apartment before their arrival. I new what street it was one, but could not remember the exact I address. I made my way to the street, Calle Magdelena, to see if I could find it. Unfortunately, apartments available for short-term rent differ from hotels in that, well, they don't waste money on signage. The apartment had a name, La Latina Palace (a name Liberace would be proud of) but no sign, which seemed somewhat self-defeating. So I couldn't find it. Its okay, I figured, when Hayley arrives tomorrow she will have the information, so, no problem. Right?
Wrong. Hayley didn't print out the apartment information, she duly informed me upon my meeting them at the airport. She didn't remember the address either. Well, this was going to make for an interesting beginning to our week in Spain together. I took them to our street, which of course is just lined with apartments, one of which was ours. Hayley remembered the proprietor had mentioned a bar being in front of the apartment building. Which narrowed our options down by about none. It would be okay though, technology would come to our rescue. I had an iPod.
I told my two travel companions to sit tight in this neat little cafe called Cafe del Mundo, my miserable Spanish told me this had something to do with the world. I set off up the street trying to think a way out of our jam, when I pulled out my wi-fi enabled iPod only to discover the bar I was standing in-front of had FREE wi-fi. The power of technology. I was therefor able to access the email from the proprietor that contained the exact address. It was right across the street from the Cafe del Mundo, where my sister and Justine sat in anticipation. The cafe was definitively not a bar, at least in my mind. Lost in translation I suppose.
Upon arrival in Spain I was able to break off from the high-school group and their sock-puppet friends, as they would be spending their time in Segovia, a smaller city about 40-minutes drive from Madrid. Now, my older sister Hayley and her friend Justine would be arriving the next day, and we would be traveling together. As it stood though, my first day in Iberia was going to be spent on my own.
The three of us would stay in an apartment my dear sister had found and booked online. I of course had to stay in a hotel my first night. After finding and settling in to my room, I decided it would be wise for me to go and scout out this apartment before their arrival. I new what street it was one, but could not remember the exact I address. I made my way to the street, Calle Magdelena, to see if I could find it. Unfortunately, apartments available for short-term rent differ from hotels in that, well, they don't waste money on signage. The apartment had a name, La Latina Palace (a name Liberace would be proud of) but no sign, which seemed somewhat self-defeating. So I couldn't find it. Its okay, I figured, when Hayley arrives tomorrow she will have the information, so, no problem. Right?
Wrong. Hayley didn't print out the apartment information, she duly informed me upon my meeting them at the airport. She didn't remember the address either. Well, this was going to make for an interesting beginning to our week in Spain together. I took them to our street, which of course is just lined with apartments, one of which was ours. Hayley remembered the proprietor had mentioned a bar being in front of the apartment building. Which narrowed our options down by about none. It would be okay though, technology would come to our rescue. I had an iPod.
I told my two travel companions to sit tight in this neat little cafe called Cafe del Mundo, my miserable Spanish told me this had something to do with the world. I set off up the street trying to think a way out of our jam, when I pulled out my wi-fi enabled iPod only to discover the bar I was standing in-front of had FREE wi-fi. The power of technology. I was therefor able to access the email from the proprietor that contained the exact address. It was right across the street from the Cafe del Mundo, where my sister and Justine sat in anticipation. The cafe was definitively not a bar, at least in my mind. Lost in translation I suppose.
Latest Adventure
I mentioned in my first post that I have just returned from a three-week long overseas trip. Again, it would have been better if I had begun and maintained this blog while actually overseas, but, I missed that boat. Now I will just have to give the post-action report here. I want to include a caveat here though. When detailing my travel experiences I am going to try and avoid just listing and detailing the sights that I see. This is a blog, not a diary. I prefer to focus on the quirky, interesting, unique and funny things that I encounter upon the way, as well as my overall take/recommendations on the places I visit. I won't be organizing these anecdotes like "Day 1....did this" instead I intend to just give an overall account/assessment of the particular cities I visit. When I write about this most recent trip, my dear readers will get an idea of what I mean.
My latest trip, which began on November 12th and ended on December 3rd, took me to three countries and five cities. The time-line of the trip was: Spain (Madrid and Barcelona), Portugal (Lisbon and Oporto) and Egypt (Cairo).
What follows is my account.......
My latest trip, which began on November 12th and ended on December 3rd, took me to three countries and five cities. The time-line of the trip was: Spain (Madrid and Barcelona), Portugal (Lisbon and Oporto) and Egypt (Cairo).
What follows is my account.......
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
First Entry-Welcome to the Four Corners
I have been intending to create a blog for some time now. My intention was to have an outlet through which I could publish my travel adventures. That goal still stands here, The Four Corners will primarily be focused on travel stories. Of course, I am a little late, as I just returned from a three-week, three-country stint overseas (more on that later) and I would like to add to this blog while actually traveling. There is always next time, of course.
Unfortunately, at least in my case, it is quite hard to constantly be on the road. The one catch to traveling is the whole money bit. Since I don't get paid to travel, well, I won't be doing it all the time. In order to cover the time when I am not off on some adventure, I will use this space to discuss other topics of great interest to me:
World Affairs/Politics: Who needs Reuters, the International Herald Tribune or the Economist when you have..... The Four Corners?!!I'll try to give my opinions on the major happenings around the globe.
Books: Its about time I write my own reviews on all the books I read. I will keep it only to new releases though.
Movies: Ditto with books.
Football: To American readers this would be soccer. I call it football because, well, you use your feet. My favorite team is Arsenal (located in London) so any posts will probably deal with them.
As promised, more to come on my recent trip. Stay tuned.
Welcome to the Four Corners. Enjoy your stay.
Unfortunately, at least in my case, it is quite hard to constantly be on the road. The one catch to traveling is the whole money bit. Since I don't get paid to travel, well, I won't be doing it all the time. In order to cover the time when I am not off on some adventure, I will use this space to discuss other topics of great interest to me:
World Affairs/Politics: Who needs Reuters, the International Herald Tribune or the Economist when you have..... The Four Corners?!!I'll try to give my opinions on the major happenings around the globe.
Books: Its about time I write my own reviews on all the books I read. I will keep it only to new releases though.
Movies: Ditto with books.
Football: To American readers this would be soccer. I call it football because, well, you use your feet. My favorite team is Arsenal (located in London) so any posts will probably deal with them.
As promised, more to come on my recent trip. Stay tuned.
Welcome to the Four Corners. Enjoy your stay.
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