St. George's Day

Late Wednesday night I left Italy and got in to Barcelona, one of the coolest cities I have been to. I visited Spain five years ago with my family and absolutely loved it. This time I am here for a shorter period and will be staying within Barcelona, but I am excited to be back. Things are just different in Spain. For instance, I didn't get to my friends apartment until midnight but that didn't mean we weren't going out. In Spain it is unusual to go out partying for the night before 1:00 or 2:00 a.m. I'm a bit of a night hawk and love to stay up until the early hours of the morning so am excited to be here. We left the club at 5:00 a.m. and the party was still bumping when we left. This is a crazy town.
Yesterday was St. George's Day, the Spanish version of Valentines Day. St. George's Day is unlike the commercialized American version of the holiday though, and in my opinion, is way cooler. Instead of lavish gifts and chocolates and cards and such, guys only get the girls a rose or two, and it is only for their true sweetheart. In return, the girls buy their man a book. Maybe I'm just biased because I love books, but this version of the holiday seems much more manageable on the wallet and more personable to a significant other.
As I strolled down the La Rambla, the main vein of the city that runs down to the Mediterranean with vendors and markets of all kinds along the way, there were countless rose vendors, many of which are organizations raising money for a cause, as well as huge temporary outdoor book stands. All books are 10% off as well so everyone in the city had something to be excited about. I was looking for a place with English books but came up short.
The weather is beautiful so I am going to go enjoy the day. Nothing like 80 degree weather.

Whirwind around Italy

This trip I am on is so freaking cool. Let me just explain my last few days to you. Three days ago I wandered through the Vatican and stared at the Sistine Chapel, two days ago I strolled through the streets of Venice and drank beers on the steps of a canal watching Gondolas pass by, yesterday I lay on the beach of a sleepy mountain side beach town and swam in the Tyranian Sea, today I am hiking the Cinque Terre, and tomorrow I will be snowboarding in the ALpes. I cant imagine a cooler more diverse trip. I have had awesome experiences with friends and have met so many cool, inviting people along the way. I have to pinch myself daily just to know that this is all real. How did I get so lucky to stumble upon this life I am living?
I will elaborate on my trip to Rome and Venice later because it is impossible to reflect on it when I have so much beauty in front of me right now, but let me just say, the Sistine Chapel was one of the coolest things I have seen in my life. I stood directly under Michelangelo's painting of God touching Adams finger and slowly spun in a circle, completely humbled by its beauty. It truly is a masterpiece. This whole trip I have been humbled in the same way and inspired by the excellence of it all. More about that later though.
By the way, the Cinque Terre is a series of five cliff side beach towns only accessible on foot or by train. It is labeled as a world landmark because of it's beauty and uniqueness and I am excited to see it.
On another note, my trusty Doc Martens, my favorite shoes in the world are starting to wear down! I have a hole in the heel and now my feet get wet when it rains. So sad.
I cant run spell check on this because it is Italy and the computers don't understand English so forgive me for the numerous spelling errors and messed up words. When I get back in a few days I will clean it up. Ciao!

Firenze

Last night my friends and I got into Rome but before that we spent a couple days in Florence. Florence is a beautiful town. Situated on the River Arno, it was the heart of the Italian Renaissance so everywhere you go there is beautiful artwork to admire. My time abroad has sparked an interest in art and Florence has an abundance of pieces in every corner of town. Maybe my favorite place was a garden the Medici family built called the Biblio gardens. It is a huge area with tall shady trees, dust paths, numerous grand fountains and statues all over the place. The statues had a neglected beauty about them I liked. Although hundreds of years old and now covered in moss with chips and cracks, it is still easy to appreciate the skill and effort required to create such a beautiful thing.
The only negative I can think of about Florence was the timing of my trip. Call me stupid, but I totally forgot I was visiting t he week of Easter which meant the town was overrun with tourists. Catholics in Italy during Easter, who would have thunk it. THe lines for ev erything were unbearable and finding a hotel room was impossible. For what I got in return, the amount I payed each night should be illegal. Still, it was awesome.
On Easter morning we woke up and watched a parade go through the town and then got on a train to Pisa to see the famous tower. I grew up hearing and seeing pictures of the Leaning Tower of Pisa but to see it was something special. That tower leans a lot! It was so cool to see with my own eyes. There isnt much to do in Pisa but we enjoyed our day immensley. We lounged in the grass soaking up the sun and laughed at people making ridiculous poses making it look like they were holding the tower up. It was a perfect way to spend Easter. My internet time is about to be up. Got to run!

Milano

Italy is beautiful! I got to Milan last night and have spent the day walking around this beautiful city. The sun is shining bright and it is a beautiful 70 degree day. This morning I went to Del Duomo Di Milano which is one of the most beautiful cathedrals I have ever seen. Only St. Peters is bigger in the whole world and I was able to climb over 200 stairs to the roof to get a great panoramic view of the city. The streets are packed with people shopping, eating, and aimlessly strolling while enjoying the day.
Last night after many hours traveling I finally found my hotel and needed a break. I wandered the streets and found a tiny cafe where Italian kids were hanging out at. I ordered a Pizza margarita and a huge beer and sat outside watching beautiful Italian girls ride by on Vespas and taking in the architecture. There are leaves on the all the trees and flowers in most windows. It was a beautiful night and I was in heaven. It was so nice I had another beer.
As awesome as it is here, I was told it is nothing compared to other spots in Italy so in an hour I am taking a train to Florence to visit a friend and get to know the city that was the epicenter of the Reniscance. It is going to be awesome.
It is my spring break and I have the whole month of April off. I am in Italy until the 23 and then I will be in Madrid until the 27. I have a lot of time to see things so if anyone who reads this have suggestions on must see places please do not be afraid to let me know. Caoi! (I think that is how it is spelled...)

My Momma Came to Ireland

Me and a lamb... kind of stupid.

Over the past couple of days I have been traveling across Ireland with my mom, and two family friends. My brother Dan was supposed to come with but he ran in to some troubles with that. Ask Sheila Javor what happened with that one… Not only was it awesome to see my mom around the half way point of this trip I am on, having them around was also beneficial because I had access to a car which made travelling much faster than on a bus or by hitchhiking. Besides a few scary situations while adjusting to driving on the opposite side of the road, the ladies did a great job driving.

Me in 2009

Sheila in 1987

We saw a ton of things. I was keeping track, and we visited or stayed in at least 15 different towns. Thinking back on it, I can hardly remember what we did just a week ago but the coolest thing I saw was Blarney Castle. Although it is Mecca for tourists visiting Ireland, it was delightfully cheesy and very beautiful. From the top of the medieval castle there are awesome views of the land around and the building itself is everything you think of when going to such a place. I was surprised at how far I actually had to lean over the wall to kiss the Blarney Stone. It was a long way down. I was told by some Irish friends that the locals like to get drunk and sneak into the castle at night to pee on the stone. I think they were joking but I still had it in the back of my mind when kissing it. Regardless of this nasty fact, people have been visiting the stone for over 200 years and it supposedly gives you “the gift of gab.” That is a whole lot of lips in one spot and it has turned the spot black.

One of the people to kiss the stone before me was my mom in 1987. Although she has an intense fear of heights, back in the day she got over her fears and kissed the stone. That was during her trip to Europe when she was my age. She has great memories of that time in her life and it was fun to hear her relive some of the memories. Hopefully in 21 years I will have equally great feelings about my time here. I’m pretty sure I will. If anyone else wants to come visit be my guest- just don’t forget to bring my golf clubs.

My mom and I at Blarney Castle.

A Night at The Crane Bar

Last night I was at a pub called The Crane with some friends and their guests from other universities around Europe. The Crane is the most Irish pub I have been to in Galway and there is live traditional music played every night. The performers are not paid or asked to come, they just show up to have a few free pints of the black stuff, display their talents, and enjoy the company of the other patrons. No trip is Galway is complete without a visit to this amazing pub and it never fails to disappoint.
I have been there on nights where the whole music section is packed with amateur performers playing a wide variety of instruments, gleefully bringing the house down. Last night was more subdued however and there were only a handful of performers. There was a fiddler, two behran drummers, a man who switched of between the guitar and the Irish version of a banjo, and a final guitar player. They were all talented musicians and were fun to listen to. Our guests enjoyed it immensely but to be truthful, I have been there during more vibrant nights.


One noticeable absence was that of a traditional Sean Nos singer, or old style singer. When there is a Sean Nos singer the whole bar will become silent every so often to listen to him give a chilling performance. Sean Nos is traditionally sung by men and emphasizes story telling so there is no melody present- it is not music you snap your fingers to. Unlike singing we are used to, Sean Nos is sung from the throat and jowls instead of from the diaphragm which gives it a nasally quality to the sound and there is often dramatic shifts in volume. Listening to it is eerie but rewarding and I really wanted my new friends to experience it.
After a few pints no Sean Nos singer had yet come forward to perform. As I looked around though, I saw a group of older, white bearded Irishmen enjoying some good crack in the corner. One of them looked familiar but I could not figure out how I would know the man. Then it dawned on me that I think I saw him sing Sean Nos while in the small town of Doolin in County Clare. I was not positive but the more I stared the more confident I became. I wanted to hear the songs so I took a chance and when he was free for a moment, I approached him and asked him if he in fact was the singer I had seen. His face lit up in a smile and he replied that he was. I think he was pretty shocked and flattered that some punk American kid would recognize him. I think it is a testament to the music that after almost two months and plenty of travel I was able to recognize this guy though. We talked about his performance back in Doolin and I told him how much I enjoyed it and asked if he would perform tonight. He told me he would love to but it was up to the musicians and I should ask them if he could. I felt weird interrupting the musicians during a song break asking them if my “friend” could sing a song but of course they agreed and from his bar stool the man sang a song. It was dead silent and everyone’s attention was on him. When he finished he got a huge round of applause signalling that everyone enjoyed it. I gave him a pleasant nod of thanks and a raise of my beer and continued on with my night. Deep down though, I did feel a little proud that I was able to contribute to the music of the night, even if only in a very small way.

My Apetite in Belgium

Brussel's main square.

Many things impressed me about Belgium this past weekend. The people were nice, the architecture was imposing and beautiful, and the speed of life was even slower than many of the places around Europe I have so far visited. All of this was second to the food though. Belgium was a culinary delight. I ate and drank like a king and I enjoyed every bite.
I got into Brussels Friday afternoon and met up with my friend from high school. The weather was beautiful and it seemed like the whole town was in the sunlight strolling the cobbled streets, drinking in the many outdoor cafes, or lying in the many city parks (over 15% of the city is dedicated to parkland, the most of any major city in Europe.) Everyone was enjoying life and nobody was in a rush. Usually I like to be full of enthusiasm and get after a city with all the energy I have, but the citizen’s style was infectious and I decided to step back and let the city come to me. We split the day between taking in the baroque architecture and parks and admiring the notoriously strong beer in the cafes. It is a funny feeling to feel a buzz after just two beers. That night we continued sampling beers and both got as many different kinds under our belt without ever trying the same beer twice. Trying every beer in town would have been impossible however because it is said that there are over 400 different Belgium beers in Brussels and we were drinking at a bar called Delirium with 2000 beers available. We ate French fries served in paper cones for dinner, although we topped ours in catsup whereas locals use mayonnaise. French fries were invented in Belgium and are called “French fries” because the potatoes are cut in the “French style,” not because they are French.

My friend Saars and I in Brussels.

The next morning we took a train from French-speaking Brussels an hour north to the quaint Flemish-speaking town of Bruges. Bruges was gorgeous and everything you think of when imagining a small Dutch town. It was another beautiful day and we watched boats and kayakers motor down the canals, saw old windmills on the outskirts of town and tried to stay out of the way of the many horse drawn carriages clopping down the cobbled streets. We sat at outdoor cafes and ate fresh Belgium waffles with ice cream and powdered sugar on top. It really was one of the best things I have tasted. I spread the ice cream into each square of the waffle so that with each bite of the warm fluffy waffle you also tasted the sweet, quickly melting but still cold ice cream. It was way better than the frozen Eggo waffles I am used to at home.

A shot of Bruges.

On Sunday we spent the morning in Bruges and took an early afternoon train back to Brussels so my friend could catch a train back to Italy. I spent the rest of the day walking around and enjoying life. I was scheduled to leave early on Monday morning so I opted to stay up all night instead of getting a bed. Around midnight I walked through a street called Rue des Bouchers, which is a tightly lined street with consecutive, brightly lit seafood restaurants which stretch for a few blocks. During the day each restaurant’s product is displayed on ice in the street and waiters try shuffling you into little tables on the side of the road. Everything is colorful and smells delicious and I envied the people eating each time I passed.

Rue des Bouchers during the day.

By midnight only a few restaurants were still open and I decided to spend money I didn’t have to get an awesome meal. I sat down and ordered what Brussels is known for; a pot of moules, frites, and a strong Belgium beer. That is, a big pot of mussels, a plate of French fries, and obviously, a beer. All around me were large parties drinking, eating mussels, and laughing, and for the first time in a while I missed my family. The food was amazing. When it came I took a moment to sit back and admire the brightly lit meal in front of me and knew I was in for a treat. The mussels were soaked in a wine sauce and as I sucked the juices out of the shell I could still taste the salt from the sea. The meal was large enough for two but I ate the whole thing myself and savored every bite. When I finished paying the bill I walked around the corner to the bar with 2000 beers and had two cold ones to wash the meal down. Around two in the morning I slowly walked through the deserted streets to the station perfectly content with life. Good food is something to cherish.

My awesome late night meal.