the return of the blog, pt. 1

It's been quite a while since I've written anything on the blog here. There are quite a few reasons for this and I don't really want to go into detail about the more personal of these, but suffice to say, I'm back at it, if not reluctantly.

Almost 2 months ago my parents came to visit me and when they left, I was stuck with the countdown for my girlfriend to arrive. My parents presence was a very good feeling and although I felt obligated to play tour guide for just over a week, I truly enjoyed their company. Their departure meant that I needed to wait for just over a month before my girlfriend would be here and this was really the most important thing to me. So the time between these two events was scattered with depression and solitude. Like I said before, I will not share these memories with you and hope that you'll understand that 6000 miles can alter ones perception of relationship and that's more than enough information.

I was facing directly the end of my mind, when she arrived on the 15th of November and I spent the following 2 weeks in my own little world with her. The blog you read here has taken some time to come to terms with. I believe that the time she was in my arms lasted forever, and once she had gone I began counting down the days until I could leave this place and return to her. Only now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel , so to speak, is the realization setting in that I've sent myself into this state almost entirely on my own. I'll try to express the joy I was feeling previous to the rest of the emotions. There was a sense of invulnerability that was immediately replaced by helplessness, safety replaced with anxiety, and so on...

I had planed out a significant whirlwind tour for Marisa and I to embark on for 7 days. We would fly from Munich to Paris, Paris to Milan, Milan to Rome, and finally from Rome back to Munich. It sounds fun right....see it all as fast as possible...hmm, OK. In hind sight it probably should have been extended or slowed to some extent, but it was quite the experience.

We arrived in Paris on sunday the 18th and set on our way. Practically the entire rail network of France was on strike (typically French, from what I hear) when we arrived, so we took a cab from the airport to our hotel on the edge of the Bastille. To save some of the explanation behind our exhausting route, I've mapped out our foot path which lasted from 10 am until 7 pm. We walked nearly 15 miles. We went for broke and paid dearly for it the rest of the trip, but we saw nearly every major tourist destination in the city center. Click the link to check out our route.

http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=1500067

We saw Notre Dame, the Eifel Tower, Victor Hugo's mansion, and so on, and so on. I'll post the pictures from this day in their entirety in a second. The city was truly a beautiful one, but I must be honest and say that it did not really meet my expectations. The architecture was very attractive and unique from all of the other cities that I've seen in Europe, but practically every building in Paris looked the same. The shear amount of things that we saw in one day nearly killed my motivation for the following day, but this actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I was so turned off of seeing the tourist spots on the second day that our meandering pace made for a great experience in Paris.

I almost forgot, here's day one. Abridged of course.







So the second day we woke up to a very interesting sight...French state police on horses. Apparently the train strikes had led other civil workers to believe that their jobs deserved more recognition than their pay dictates, so they went on strike too. One thing that happens more often France, specifically Paris, is demonstrations.

People routinely take to the streets to voice their opinion, often with the results you would expect from a simple equation: Throw massive amounts of people in the streets of one of the largest cities in Europe, add an equally impressive number of police, multiply that by a factor of the government's propensity to fear revolution, and you get results. Imagine what would happen if the American public wasn't afraid of it's government's actions, a public that wasn't afraid of the all too eager and too under-trained police force patrolling their towns. Imagine an American public that could stand up for what they wanted without making a victim of themselves.

I seem to be getting off topic.

Our second day was planned to be spent wandering the Louvre. A real dream of mine and really (don't tell my girlfriend) the only thing that specifically interested me in the city. We hitched a cab around the corner form the hotel. Marisa has a much better understanding of the French language than I do of German, so she told the driver that, "We would like to go to the Louvre, please." The Driver responded, "Yes, it was a perfect day to go to the Louvre." It was raining mildly. The streets were wet and rather uncrowded. It really was a perfect day to visit the Louvre. A perfect day to visit any museum, let alone the most prolific collection of art in the world.

Only after I had paid the cab 12 euro; only after Marisa and I had walked around the building, only after I had read the soggy sign on the front of the pyramid did I realize that the cab drivers perceived good hearted nature was really a smug little misleading gesture towards two obvious tourists. The louvre was closed. The largest, most famous house of art was closed? How could this be? Pardon my French...

FUCK.
My heart sank into my stomach, sank into m feet. I swirled down the drain with the dripping ink from the sign that was so clearly printed on the door to my destination. I got a nice picture of the facade of the building and turned around. My girlfriend could instantly sense my disappointment. She grabbed my hand as we turned away. Optimistically, Marisa said that we'll just have to come back to Paris in the future. This is why she's mine.

The remainder of the the day played out perfectly in tune with the weather and atmosphere of the city. Having seen the vast majority of tourist destinations the day previous, we had only one thing left on our list...to pay tribute to one James Morrison. His buried across town but rather easy to get to, had the trains not been on strike, but we had walked so much the day before that we thought sitting in a subway station for a half hour to catch an over crowded train would not be so bad.


In just under an hour we exited the train and meandered through the cemetery in search for the Door's front man. There we found him and a few others resting in peace.



So we actually wandered around the cemetery for more than a few hours. It was utterly fascinating. So many people that had lived in Paris some 300 years prior to our arrival. It was a creepy trip down memory lane, especially when we noticed this grave that appeared to have been opened.

And if you know me well enough to know that I have a soft spot for Zombies, then you would also know that I spent a large portion of the rest of the time in the cemetery looking for them. I had no luck with this venture, and Marisa and I both decided, along with the nuisance of the attendants constantly speaking in French and pointing to the gates, it was time to go. Zombieless, and now in the cold, wet, dark of the Pere Lachaise Cemetry, we headed to the gates to resume life with the living.

One of the best parts of my recent education and employment has been that I have had the opportunity to meet and work along side many different people from different parts of the globe. At RTT Munich, I met Clement Hoffner. A native of france who studied car design in Paris before getting hired by RTT. He returned to Paris to start up the future French office of the company, so we planned on meeting up when I arrived in his city. Again the trains had hindered this plan a bit, but Marisa and I had a wonderful french meal in the hip Bastille neighborhood while we waited for his return to the city. Marisa even got her french onion soup, which not surprisingly, is just onion soup in France. We even were fortunate enough to sample some of 2007's, just released, Beaujolais-nouveau.
Clement met us near by and we followed him down a small street that really felt super hip. It was where we had been looking for the night previous, but we passed it up while on the metro. We enjoyed some cocktails and conversation before retiring for the night. We had blasted through Paris in 2 long days and had to catch a plane to Italy in the early part of the next day.

the Hiatus

It's been a good long while since I posted anything here. I took care of my parents for a little over a week in october, but I havn;t been up to much more than that since...

I've been just trying to keep my head in the clouds and not drink so much...trying is the opporative term. As far as the blog goes? Well it hasn't gone for a while. I've been staying in Munich, counting the days until Marisa arrives. WHICH IS TODAY!!!!!!

So I havn't seen ANYTHING outside of Munich. I've been saving for our trip this weekend to paris and Rome. I occupy myself by downloading Movies and tv shows online and it's proven to be quite the successful time killer. It's been real cold here. It's snowed all week, and it's rather intoxicating. I find myself absolutely absorbed by the dancing flakes as they twist and turn their way towards the ground. I did make it to the modern art museum here in Munich(also the largest in Germany) and it was exciting to see there design and architecture galleries, but the modern art collection had nothing on Vienna. Nothing in Munich really pushes the boundaries, more of a reflection of the bavarian culture in general i think. They always error on the conservative side of things here.

I have welcomed a new member of the yankee team here at RTT. A fellow Detroit employee named Ethen. He is really cool guy and has laid any fears I had about the "type" of people in detroit to rest...although he is sort of a gun nut, which I suspect I will find a lot of in a state where fully automatic rifels are par for the course(and the streets in some areas).

Marisa and I will be in Rome for thanksgiving, so I'll eat a turkey pizza or something, or maybe not.

Expect some more bloggins when I return. I'll then only have 3 and a half weeks left in my european adventure.

PS. Sorry to all of the (few) people who have been blog faithful. I've been meaning to update, but have not devoted the time...I'll try to be better.

-C

The Fall of Troy

I got home late form work and decided that it was the perfect time to get a pizza from the spot below our cafe. Not only is it the best pie I've had here in munich(5 times running), but with out that pizza I wouldn't have seen the news paper sitting on a lonely table. Ane without seeing this newspaper, I wouldn't have known that Fall Of Troy was playing a show here in Munich tonight. I scarfed down a pizza and looked up the club. Just then Parker came in the door. "Hey parker, you wanna go to this show tonight?", I said. And we were off.

I can't even put it into words right now. All I can say is...

FUCKING AWESOME!!!!

Chicken Tuesdays Reborn

A common scene, when I was living in the bay area last year, was a bottle of wine, a chicken in the oven, and good times had by my roommates and I. The evenings were spent listening to David Bowie, conversing about politics, foreign policy, music, art, love, and of course, more music. They were some of the best times, and I will never forget them. Yesterday, I tried to bring Chicken Tuesdays to an international audience. I guess it went well, but I think the overall level of maturity in this house is not up to my CT standards after living with Aiden and Robyn. Here's to you!

The food was good though.

Berlin, or the other city that never sleeps.

Just over 2 years ago I went to NYC, with Marisa, and fell in love with the city. Now, some 4000 miles away from the east coast, it's happened again. I have this undying appreciation for the fast moving, non-stop, hustle and bustle of big cities. NY, SF, and now Berlin. Something about these dense populations is intoxicating. I find myself engrossed by these places. They draw me in, and hold my attention at every minute. I would venture to say that this same feeling is what some people dislike about these environments; that they can't escape them, but not me. I can't get enough.

I took off friday from work, and arrived in Berlin on thursday night, to give myself a better opportunity to wrap my head around the largest city in Germany. But due to the previous evening's adventures in beer drinking(see below), I had no energy that evening, and it was all I could do to stay up and watch some German breasts on broadcast television(GO EUROPE!), before crashing out for a good nights sleep, waking up refreshed on friday morning.

Before I left for germany, my good friend Dien told me about some Go-kart rentals in Berlin. He said you can pick them up for a day and drive them legally on the streets, throughout the city. Damn, he was so right. Allen and I took the bus to a neighboring area, and soon we were on the road in these things. Check out the video! The audio is really loud though, so be careful.
8 horsepower may not seem like much, but these little guys really flew around the city. At some points we had the karts up to 45 mph! What a way to see the city, and everyone around us seemed to get a kick out of it too. We spent the better part of three hours flying around traffic and exploring the city.Because we had the karts, we actually found a really cool area, Kreuzberg, that would be vital to our Berliner experience. As we headed back to the rental office, the first sprinkles of rain began to fall. We got the karts back just before the rain came on strong. Our timing couldn't have been better. We walked out to the street and opened our umbrellas.

The next stop on our agenda may have been the most interesting scene on the trip. The Kunsthaus Tacheles is the one of the oldest buildings in the city. It was the last building on the city's list for demolition, but when the group of artists/squatters that occupied the building got a petition to save it, the city stepped in and rescued the building from destruction. Now it is a shining monument to the arts.Each of the 5 floors is occupied by artists who are selected for residency on a six month basis. History aside, the building is awesome. It sustained major damage in WWII but still stands. Now Practically every inch of the inside is covered in graffiti and artwork from the hundreds of people that have made it their studio. We took an hour to walk around the building and through all of the studios which were open to the public. Quite the experience. Definitely a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

From the Tacheles we ventured back to Kreuzberg, by way of the metro. We had stumbled across a small, unassuming bar called Cake earlier in the day, and decided that this would be a good starting point. The place had a very nice tiki feel inside and it welcomed our growing appetite for alcohol.The night was young and we knew that Berlin has a great club scene so we stepped out of Cake and into a cab. Destination: Eins Null Drei, or 103. 3 rooms, 3 DJ's, and crazy bass...everything that you want from a club that stays open 'til the sun comes out. We started out in the upstairs lounge and met some interesting people. One guy, don't ask me his name, had done his study abroad in South Pasadena when he was 16! He even lived on Huntington drive, right down the street from where I used to live. After talking to him for a few minutes, he offered to sell me amphetamines and coke...Um, no thanks man. I'll see you around. Peace.Out the window of the bathroom I saw this amazing stencil on the building across the way. Being a huge video game head, I recognized it as some sort of interpretation of Mario Bros. It's about 3 stories tall. Freakin' awesome.We stayed dancin and movin' until about 5am. Although early by Berlin standards, I'd had enough. We took a quick train ride back to the hostel and went to sleep.
The next morning we woke up and headed back to Kreuzberg to get some breakfast from one of the cool cafes that we walked by the previous day. Hangin' out with some coffee and some Frühstück, German breakfast that typically consists of a few breads, some cured meats, and cheese. After breakfast I decided that we should take in some culture. In order to keep the communist theme going from the previous weekend in prague, we headed to Checkpoint Charlie and the last remaining peaces of the Berlin Wall. It was really fascinating to think that the city was divided up until 1989, but I won't bore you with a history lesson.
A few hundred kilometers from the checkpoint was a small gallery featuring a piece, by Mexica artist Damian Ortega, entitled, "Man is the Controller of the Universe". Just look at what he did. Wow. I took a look at his other work as well...some pretty amazing things hanging from ceilings. Check him out.Walking from the wall, we happened across a plaza with hundreds of concrete pillars of varying heights. At the deepest point, the pillars extended about 12 feet high. Perfect place to snap some photos.The rain began to fall a little harder as we continued on foot through the city. We stopped all over the place to observe life in the city. Street performers here, kids running a marathon over there. A tree covered walkway proved to be an especially inviting way to escape the rain.Our journey during the day took us pretty deep into the east side of the city. We found some pretty cool vintage stores, casually strolled through streets with buildings that still had pock marks on them from WWII machine gun fire, and eventually settled in for some delicious Thai food before heading to catch a show back on the west side.

Art Brut is a pretty cool band from England. A little cheeky at times, kind of pop with a sense of humor. Allen had met them at a party back in LA over a year ago, so we decided to check them out while in Berlin. Good thing we did. We arrived just in time to catch the opening act. After that we headed outside for some air, and Allen spotted the drummer from the band. We spoke to him briefly before he had to get ready to go on stage, but he invited us to stick around after the show, and hang out before they had to get on the bus the next morning.One thing led to another, and before we knew it we were throwin back Jager shots with the band. Really cool guys. Not to sound like a groupie or anything, but they just invited us into their circle and let us kick it with them all night. By 5:30 in the morning, they had to get on the bus, but not before Allen threw down on a breakdance competition in front of the tour bus with the guitarist's brother. Oh man, he got served...Sunday was super chill. We hadn't been sleeping too much over the entire weekend, so we took it really easy. The Berlin Marathon was going on right outside our hostel in the morning, so we took some of that in. We walked around the city a bit more, and decided to head to the airport. It was time to go home.

Now I'm back in Munich and things are moving slower again. If Berlin is like NYC, then Munich is Texas. Good, whole-hearted, German conservatism. The sound, the smells, the diversity of the people, the whole thing really, Berlin got under my skin. I loved it there. It was great to see a city that I felt like I could live in, not just appreciate on holiday. And just like New York City, I know I'll be back. Hopefully I can make it back there before I'm too old to stay up all night, everyday.

Oktoberfest

World Series. Super Bowl. Final Four. All are the zenith of their respective sports. If beer drinking were to become any more of a competition, the finals would be held here in munich at Oktoberfest. Started nearly two hundred years ago, Oktoberfest has been an international beer drinking extravaganza, catering to generations of Bavarian beer swillers. Only Munich's 6 breweries are allowed to serve beer there, and they have permanent tents which are flooded by nearly one million visitors over the duration of the festival. For just over two weeks the city shuts down to drink beer. Any more information is redundant. It all has to do with beer, which seems to be fine by me.

I'd been in training literally from the day we got off the plane here. Beer is cheaper than water in this city, and that's is not an exaggeration. My beer intake has never been higher, and with such great beer, how can you say no? There is one difference at Oktoberfest, or the "wiesen" as it's referred to locally. The beer is not only a more potent brew made specially for the occasion, but it's only served in 1L Mas Beers. OK. It looks like I have my work cut out for me. Let's see how it all unfolded...

The plan was to join a group from work on a trip to the wiesen after work. One small problem: I had a project due and had to stay late. So I spent an hour and a half at work before I could get out and meet the rest of the guys there. No problem, right? Wrong. I arrived at the grounds with a cellphone in hand trying to locate my group in the madness. It took some time to navigate the stumbling crowds of drunkards, but once I made it to the tent, I fell right in line.The images which spring to the reader's mind are correct. Lederhosen, dirndls, oom-pah bands, huge beers, huge boobs, and of course thousands of drunks. I wasn't so much surprised by the scene, it's what I thought of too, but I was just take back by the fact that all this exists to drink beer. The atmosphere is chaotic. Tons of people milling around a tent with beers in hand, lots of yelling and singing, and of course dancing on tables. It got out of control really fast. Before I knew it I was singing along with the hordes of beer drinkers and raising my glass at every chance I got. The cheers at Oktoberfest can get violent. Smashed glasses seemed almost common place. The actual process of toasting seemed only in place to encourage the rapid beer swilling.
After 4L of beer, the group of us which was still left got the bright idea to ride the Looping Munchen roller-coaster in the rain. It seemed to do nothing except stir up an absurdly large amount of beer which I had guzzled over the course of 3 hours. Luckily none of us got sick.Oktoberfest was something that I never planed on going to prior to coming here. Living in munich provided the best opportunity to experience the worlds largest drinking festival. If you want to come next year, you need to book your hotel NOW. The entire city is booked. Munich practically doubles in population for these two weeks. Stumbling drinks overrun the streets in the evening. Vomit on the sidewalk is commonplace. But the city, and the world, loves it. Thousands of people drink themselves into a stupor, only to wake up and do it again the next day. All in the name of beer!

PROST! (cheers)

Prague

21.09.07-23.09.07


Ah, Prague. The capital of the Czech Republic and a truly beautiful place to spend three days. My perception of the city on the first night was slightly...um...skewed is a good word. At this point in my European experience, the German language is getting pretty familiar. I can understand what people are talking about, I can read signs and get around, and I can order beer amongst other necessities. So stepping off a plane in a country where they speak a new language that is close to Russian and far from anything I've ever heard before in my life, was interesting to say the least. We also had to deal with a new currency, the Czech Crown. It felt pretty good to pull out a couple grand from an ATM.
I'm rich biatch!
We got in around 7 PM, just in time to see the sun start to settle over the forests in the distance. We hopped on a bus and a subway train to our hostel, checked in, abused the free internet long enough to find somewhere to eat while en-route to the city center, and we were off by 8. Out the door and to the train stop around the corner, with only high hopes for what people told us would be a wild night.

First order of business, we needed to eat something. We got some down home Czech cookin'. I had some tomato beef and dumplings and we shared a few rounds of drinks while an accordionist bellowed away in the corner. With our bellies heavier and our spirits lifted, we walked in an aimless direction looking for more libations, and what do you know? we found some!

What is green, comes with a shot of sugar, and burns like hell going down? Absinth.
Popular with many an eastern european philosopher, Absinth is one special little shot that comes on REAL quick. Armed with a beer to wash down the poison I just put in my body, we realized that this night was far from over. The club we were at was OK. I'm not much of a club guy, but the DJ was kickin' out some classic jams and the beer was aplenty. I mean, look at me...I'm a freakin' mess.
I woke up around 10 with a striking pain in my head, a nasty taste in my mouth, and a scalpel of light slicing into my eyelids. Damn, I never learn. We got ourselves together enough to make it out of the hostel by 12:00 to try to get some food inside of our hollowed shells of bodies. ad that helped get our feet moving around the city to see all kinds of wonders that had the collective power to make me forget that I poisoned myself the night before.
I walked all over the city and really exhausted my brain. We walked around from 2:00 until 8:30, checkin' out everything that the city had to offer. We met some girls from Chicago, Played some foosball with a guy from Canada, and I talked to an old guy about how crazy it is to build a cathedral 1000 years ago. I'll save the commentary and you can just enjoy these in the silence that I did.


WTF?



On Sunday we had ourselves some breakfast and headed out for some a brief cultural excursion that included the Museum of Communism and the Czech National Museum. The Museum of Communism really shed some light on the recent history of this city, albeit a dark one.

I'm a sucker for propaganda. Aren't we all though?

Where the three of us had previously stumbled through thoughtlessly only two nights prior, the heart of the Czech revolution had raged for 10 days in November of 1989. I was 7 years old then, Oblivious to the struggles of the world. It really had a startling effect on me and I spent the remainder of my time in Prague reflecting on the countless people who stood up for themselves in the face of supreme adversity, and demanded a change. Gladly, this will be the lasting memory of Prague. I could have been my throwing up Absinth off a bridge at 4 in the morning.