This shall be a short and quick entry because I've only got a little time left on my internet usage. Getting here was quite interessting because I had to take about five different trains from Avignon where I had spent the night before. The last of which reminded me of the Enchanted Forrest's rip off of Splash Mountain, Doug you remember. Regardless of how slow it was, I could never complain about the view; valley's with little towns nestled in them, surrounded by the Alps is not something I see everyday.
The view from my hostel is fantastic, and I greatly appreciate the recomendation from Pat, because it's been fantastic here. I'm in an eight person dorm, all by myself due to the slowing down of the travel season. I went on a four hour hike yesterday that's made my joints a little sore, and tired me out a bit. I did live a little bit by the Jon Jaqua mantra of indecision (If the Indians were chasing you, would you do it?) and did a little bit of rock climbing on my hike (Sorry mom). I think I'll head back up later tonight to watch the sunset from one of the more populated spots, so that I will be able to see where I'm walking on my way back down.
I'm heading to Interlaken tomorrow and am going to try to stay at a hostel with a Bouldering wall. I've been fairly frugle here in Gryon because apparently there are amazing options of activites in Interlaken, including parasailing, white water rapids, and all other kinds of fun stuff.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Crazy Tomatoes (Tomatina ´09)
Before I get into my three days in Cheste/Bunol, I´d like to give a bit of an update of plans. I have decided to head to Geneva, and thanks to Pat, I shall have a pretty awesome place to stay. However, for the time being I´m in Valencia as I could not get a train to Barcelona until tomorrow. I´m not complaining by any means, Valencia is very beautiful and I´m excited to go roam around. Now, what you were waiting for, my three days leading up to and including, La Tomatina.
I arrived in Valencia around three thirty and as usual, it was quite a warm day. I had no idea on how to get to this small town Cheste, until I arrived at the train station and saw that I could take the metro there. Unfortunetly my directions weren´t fantastic as I got off of the wrong station because the metro pulled a U-ey to go out to Cheste and Bunol. No worries though, I just back tracked until I got to the appropriate station.
Once I arrived in Bunol, it was around 5 in the afternoon, and for those of you who do not know the Spaniard way of life, this is prime Siesta time. While I had no idea as to where the street was where my hotel was located, nothing was open for me to shuffle in and ask in my broken spanish for directions. Fuck (sorry grandma). As I drifted aimlessly for an industrial way, I happen to notice a middle aged woman and her teenage daughter exit from there home. A sign of life! I asked them where it was, and they proceeded to ramble of a list of directions in spanish with some hand gestures of walking. I let them know I didn´t speak spanish, thanked them for their efforts, and continued to drift. As I was walking away, I heard them whistling at me, turned around and they were pointing to their car. Bless those two lovely ladies, they gave me a quick five minute ride to the front steps of my hotel, that otherwise, would´ve been a massive ordeal to find.
I took a day of rest in my comfortable, one person, air conditioned hotel room and gave Tom a call. Him and his siter were camping outside of Valencia, and thinking of spending the night in a park in Bunol to escape the traveling crowd the next morning. Unfortunetly we had no way of meeting up that night, or the next day, because the mayhem that ensued would have certainly led to the demise of our cell phones.
Eight O´clock the next morning was my arrival time in Bunol. After seeing the way the metro had been packed full of people like a brand new pack of cigarettes, I had a feeling I wasn´t going to find Tom. First order of business was to get myself a litre of beer. Strange thought at 8 in the morning, but I was going to a giant food fight in a foreign city; there was no time to consider the ordinary. By the time I reached the city center, it was already packed with people, mostly drunk, and mostly Australian. I heard a giant roar ten minutes later, as the crowd was reacting to the raising of the greased pole with the ham on top that started the festival. I figured the pole would be 15-20 feet high, but no, it was a respectable 30 feet high. There was so much grease on the pole, that it looked like a pretzle stick that had been covered in frosting.
While my competitive side was screaming and kicking at myself inside, when I saw the Bros that were attempting, and failing miserably, to climb the pole, I decided to hold back as to some what insure that I left Bunol with all of my teeth. After about an hour and a half of failed pole climbing, the cannon went off, and the trucks of tomatoes started to drive down the old cobble stonned street, with the rest of us wackos standing on a 5 foot wide side walk. When there´s an estimated 40,000 people, one would wish that the side walk be twenty feet, but I guess we just delt with it.
It´s very difficult to describe what happened the next, as it seemed to be a giant red haze. If you look it up online, you might be able to understand a little better, but it was simply a bunch of people being sprayed with water and having tomatoes chucked at them. Some times it got in your eyes, which stung. Some times it got in your mouth, which tasted like BO. Regardless, it was the craziest festival I´ve ever, and probably ever go to and it was a blast. I can´t get the smell of tomatoe off of me, I keep finding seeds in strange places, I had an amazing time, and I will never do it again.
I arrived in Valencia around three thirty and as usual, it was quite a warm day. I had no idea on how to get to this small town Cheste, until I arrived at the train station and saw that I could take the metro there. Unfortunetly my directions weren´t fantastic as I got off of the wrong station because the metro pulled a U-ey to go out to Cheste and Bunol. No worries though, I just back tracked until I got to the appropriate station.
Once I arrived in Bunol, it was around 5 in the afternoon, and for those of you who do not know the Spaniard way of life, this is prime Siesta time. While I had no idea as to where the street was where my hotel was located, nothing was open for me to shuffle in and ask in my broken spanish for directions. Fuck (sorry grandma). As I drifted aimlessly for an industrial way, I happen to notice a middle aged woman and her teenage daughter exit from there home. A sign of life! I asked them where it was, and they proceeded to ramble of a list of directions in spanish with some hand gestures of walking. I let them know I didn´t speak spanish, thanked them for their efforts, and continued to drift. As I was walking away, I heard them whistling at me, turned around and they were pointing to their car. Bless those two lovely ladies, they gave me a quick five minute ride to the front steps of my hotel, that otherwise, would´ve been a massive ordeal to find.
I took a day of rest in my comfortable, one person, air conditioned hotel room and gave Tom a call. Him and his siter were camping outside of Valencia, and thinking of spending the night in a park in Bunol to escape the traveling crowd the next morning. Unfortunetly we had no way of meeting up that night, or the next day, because the mayhem that ensued would have certainly led to the demise of our cell phones.
Eight O´clock the next morning was my arrival time in Bunol. After seeing the way the metro had been packed full of people like a brand new pack of cigarettes, I had a feeling I wasn´t going to find Tom. First order of business was to get myself a litre of beer. Strange thought at 8 in the morning, but I was going to a giant food fight in a foreign city; there was no time to consider the ordinary. By the time I reached the city center, it was already packed with people, mostly drunk, and mostly Australian. I heard a giant roar ten minutes later, as the crowd was reacting to the raising of the greased pole with the ham on top that started the festival. I figured the pole would be 15-20 feet high, but no, it was a respectable 30 feet high. There was so much grease on the pole, that it looked like a pretzle stick that had been covered in frosting.
While my competitive side was screaming and kicking at myself inside, when I saw the Bros that were attempting, and failing miserably, to climb the pole, I decided to hold back as to some what insure that I left Bunol with all of my teeth. After about an hour and a half of failed pole climbing, the cannon went off, and the trucks of tomatoes started to drive down the old cobble stonned street, with the rest of us wackos standing on a 5 foot wide side walk. When there´s an estimated 40,000 people, one would wish that the side walk be twenty feet, but I guess we just delt with it.
It´s very difficult to describe what happened the next, as it seemed to be a giant red haze. If you look it up online, you might be able to understand a little better, but it was simply a bunch of people being sprayed with water and having tomatoes chucked at them. Some times it got in your eyes, which stung. Some times it got in your mouth, which tasted like BO. Regardless, it was the craziest festival I´ve ever, and probably ever go to and it was a blast. I can´t get the smell of tomatoe off of me, I keep finding seeds in strange places, I had an amazing time, and I will never do it again.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Madrid
Today marks my third day in the capitol city of Espagne, and I am enjoying more everyday that passes. My first day was a little rough, after spending the night in the Dublin airport (not the greatest night of sleep in my life) I found that getting around without knowing Spanish might be more difficult than what I anticipated. I got to my hostel fine, but was very hesitant in finding food because I didn´t have a single clue as to what items on menus were. I eventually found a place where a woman spoke english, and had a light lunch, and later had some crappy home made pasta. Luckily I´ve met some very nice Aussies here in the hostel, and they´ve helped me calm down a little, and not freak out so much about not knowing any Spanish.
Some of us tried going on a free walking tour of the city that was advertised in our hostel, but found out later that the offer was no longer there because the company had cancled the tour. So we walked around the city ourselves seeing many of the buildings that unfortunetly, I couldn´t really figure out what they were. We had a nice siesta in the park, and I had a much better version of self made pasta for dinner.
I am quite impressed with myself, if I can brag for a second, on how well I´ve been getting around town. At first it was a little difficult because I didn´t have much of an idea as to how the city was layed out, but with a small map I´ve yet to get lost, and really don´t need it anymore to get back to the hostel. I went all the way down and saw the Royal Palace, which was gorgeous, and got back to my place without using the map. Boomskies.
Today has been a bit of a pain because Wells Fargo´s ATM services have been down all day and I need cash. They claim that it will be back up in about a half an hour, but I´ll believe it when I see it. Luckily, I did have enough to buy a baguette, the juiciest peach I´ve ever eaten, and a pocket dictionary for when I want to figure words out. Dinner will be interessting though, if Wells Fargo hasn´t gotten their, for a lack of better terms, shit together (Sorry Grandma).
I will be taking the train to Valencia tomorrow, which I´m very excited for because it means a couple of things: I´ll be in a room by myself, I´ll be seeing Tom and Holly soon, and Tomatina will be in two days. I´m staying in a city in between Valencia and Bunol, where the festival is held, so I´ll probably be busing from town to town. Once that´s done, I think I´ll stay in Valencia for a couple more days, then head up to the French part of Switzerland. As much as I want to go to Portugal, I know if I go I´ll be too tempted to surf, and I just don´t trust my knee at the moment. So instead, I think I´ll go hike in Switzerland.
John
Some of us tried going on a free walking tour of the city that was advertised in our hostel, but found out later that the offer was no longer there because the company had cancled the tour. So we walked around the city ourselves seeing many of the buildings that unfortunetly, I couldn´t really figure out what they were. We had a nice siesta in the park, and I had a much better version of self made pasta for dinner.
I am quite impressed with myself, if I can brag for a second, on how well I´ve been getting around town. At first it was a little difficult because I didn´t have much of an idea as to how the city was layed out, but with a small map I´ve yet to get lost, and really don´t need it anymore to get back to the hostel. I went all the way down and saw the Royal Palace, which was gorgeous, and got back to my place without using the map. Boomskies.
Today has been a bit of a pain because Wells Fargo´s ATM services have been down all day and I need cash. They claim that it will be back up in about a half an hour, but I´ll believe it when I see it. Luckily, I did have enough to buy a baguette, the juiciest peach I´ve ever eaten, and a pocket dictionary for when I want to figure words out. Dinner will be interessting though, if Wells Fargo hasn´t gotten their, for a lack of better terms, shit together (Sorry Grandma).
I will be taking the train to Valencia tomorrow, which I´m very excited for because it means a couple of things: I´ll be in a room by myself, I´ll be seeing Tom and Holly soon, and Tomatina will be in two days. I´m staying in a city in between Valencia and Bunol, where the festival is held, so I´ll probably be busing from town to town. Once that´s done, I think I´ll stay in Valencia for a couple more days, then head up to the French part of Switzerland. As much as I want to go to Portugal, I know if I go I´ll be too tempted to surf, and I just don´t trust my knee at the moment. So instead, I think I´ll go hike in Switzerland.
John
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Last days in Ireland
Tonight will mark the first time I will spend the night in an airport. I'm flying out to Madrid tomorrow morning at 6:30 in the morning, so there's not much point in getting a hostel room.
My day of research in Cork didn't get direct results, but I did find out a fair amount about the Crowley clan. For those that are interested, they were ancestors of the MacDermots and branched out down toward the Cork area. They were known for the agressiveness (us, aggressive? No.....) and were typically hired soldiers. I can't remember the name of the family they typically fought for, but I do have it written down so if you're interested let me know and I can put it in another post. They also had a castle around the Cork area that, again, I can't remember the name of but do have it written down. There was a fairly famous Irish revolutionist name Peter O'Neil Crowley who had a statue of himself in the city center of Cork along with other famous revolutionists who died for their cause. I don't know what the direct relation we could have to him, I'd really have to get the info in the Dublin archives to be able to figure it out. However, the woman at the Cork archives told me of the current day Crowley clan website that would make it very easy to get some more detailed info if we wanted it.
I came back to Dublin for a day and walked around the east side, up to the Guinness storehouse. Due to the 15 Euro fee to take the brewery tour, I passed feeling that once you've seen three brewery tours, you've pretty much seen them all. I did have a lovely, 20-minute conversation with an Irish stranger about Dana Point and how much he loves it; it was pretty fantastic, although he knew more about the town than I did. Later that night I went on a pub crawl that claimed to give you free shots, but that was after you bought a drink, and the alcohol was sub par. Everyone in the group felt that they had been taken for suckers just a bit, but no real serious complaints.
Today I had a bit of an experience as to what it would be like to be a homeless person. Since I didn't want to pay for a room that I wasn't going to be able to sleep in, I've been walking around aimlessly finding different spots for shelter to rest my legs since I'm carrying around about thirty pounds on my back. I also found out that to ship stuff back to the US is freaking expensive, so Bailey and Mark, and Eric and Jeff, your wedding gifts are going to be late. Sorry for the delay.
I'm excited to get a bit of a change of scenery in Spain, and while the first couple of days are going to be brutal because of the change in weather conditions, hopefully I'll get accustomed quickly. I am a little nervous about my laking of Spanish speaking abilities, but I will do my best to memorize the key phrases in the back of my travel book. I'm going to have plenty of time tonight.
John
My day of research in Cork didn't get direct results, but I did find out a fair amount about the Crowley clan. For those that are interested, they were ancestors of the MacDermots and branched out down toward the Cork area. They were known for the agressiveness (us, aggressive? No.....) and were typically hired soldiers. I can't remember the name of the family they typically fought for, but I do have it written down so if you're interested let me know and I can put it in another post. They also had a castle around the Cork area that, again, I can't remember the name of but do have it written down. There was a fairly famous Irish revolutionist name Peter O'Neil Crowley who had a statue of himself in the city center of Cork along with other famous revolutionists who died for their cause. I don't know what the direct relation we could have to him, I'd really have to get the info in the Dublin archives to be able to figure it out. However, the woman at the Cork archives told me of the current day Crowley clan website that would make it very easy to get some more detailed info if we wanted it.
I came back to Dublin for a day and walked around the east side, up to the Guinness storehouse. Due to the 15 Euro fee to take the brewery tour, I passed feeling that once you've seen three brewery tours, you've pretty much seen them all. I did have a lovely, 20-minute conversation with an Irish stranger about Dana Point and how much he loves it; it was pretty fantastic, although he knew more about the town than I did. Later that night I went on a pub crawl that claimed to give you free shots, but that was after you bought a drink, and the alcohol was sub par. Everyone in the group felt that they had been taken for suckers just a bit, but no real serious complaints.
Today I had a bit of an experience as to what it would be like to be a homeless person. Since I didn't want to pay for a room that I wasn't going to be able to sleep in, I've been walking around aimlessly finding different spots for shelter to rest my legs since I'm carrying around about thirty pounds on my back. I also found out that to ship stuff back to the US is freaking expensive, so Bailey and Mark, and Eric and Jeff, your wedding gifts are going to be late. Sorry for the delay.
I'm excited to get a bit of a change of scenery in Spain, and while the first couple of days are going to be brutal because of the change in weather conditions, hopefully I'll get accustomed quickly. I am a little nervous about my laking of Spanish speaking abilities, but I will do my best to memorize the key phrases in the back of my travel book. I'm going to have plenty of time tonight.
John
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Cork
It's about 9:45 in the morning here in Cork, it's raining slightly and all I have in hand is my notebook in search for family ties. Thanks to dad's cousin Anne, I had a good amount of places to check out possible lineage with the Crowley. I checked on the Irish genealogy site for the name Timothy Crowley (names of both my great-great grandfather, and my great-great-great grandfather) and got about twelve hits all pointing to the county that I'm in now.
Rewind to yesterday, I arrive by train into cork and stop by the nearest hostel which was about a five minute walk from the station. I bought my room, tossed my stuff on my bed, and went walking toward the city center to just browse around. And what did I happen to find? Not a block and a half away from the hostel I found a sign saying, "Stokes Clock work and Antiques shop." Seriously? Then another block from there, across the street, there was Crowley's music store. Seriously? I'm starting to think I might have more Irish heritage than the original 1/8th I thought I had.
Finding myself somewhat shocked by the name coincidence, I decided to keep walking towards the city center. It's a pretty typical city center, a bunch of shops, a tourist center, nothing particularly exciting. I walked by the Beamish brewery and gave a tip of the hat to them for making a solid stout, looked to my right and stopped in my tracks to see St. Finbarres cathedral. The construction was absolutely beautiful and detailed. The cathedral had statues of many different Biblical personalities, along with the respected occupations carved into the arches of the doorways. I went inside to breathe taking stained glass, tiles that had been made by Italian artisans hundreds of years ago, and a plaque commemorating the only Irish female Freemason. Simply fantastic.
Later that night, since I had looked up the Crowley name and the Mee name in the Irish genealogy site and gotten limited hits, I decided because of the Stokes store coincidence that I would look that name up in the registry to see what I would get. Crowley gave me twelve hits, Mee gave me eight, Stokes gave me over 350 birth records dating back to 1658. I think I have more Irish blood in me than the 1/8th I originally thought.
I believe the Clock store is going to open up at any minute now, so I'm off to see if the name is still present in worker of the shop.
John
Rewind to yesterday, I arrive by train into cork and stop by the nearest hostel which was about a five minute walk from the station. I bought my room, tossed my stuff on my bed, and went walking toward the city center to just browse around. And what did I happen to find? Not a block and a half away from the hostel I found a sign saying, "Stokes Clock work and Antiques shop." Seriously? Then another block from there, across the street, there was Crowley's music store. Seriously? I'm starting to think I might have more Irish heritage than the original 1/8th I thought I had.
Finding myself somewhat shocked by the name coincidence, I decided to keep walking towards the city center. It's a pretty typical city center, a bunch of shops, a tourist center, nothing particularly exciting. I walked by the Beamish brewery and gave a tip of the hat to them for making a solid stout, looked to my right and stopped in my tracks to see St. Finbarres cathedral. The construction was absolutely beautiful and detailed. The cathedral had statues of many different Biblical personalities, along with the respected occupations carved into the arches of the doorways. I went inside to breathe taking stained glass, tiles that had been made by Italian artisans hundreds of years ago, and a plaque commemorating the only Irish female Freemason. Simply fantastic.
Later that night, since I had looked up the Crowley name and the Mee name in the Irish genealogy site and gotten limited hits, I decided because of the Stokes store coincidence that I would look that name up in the registry to see what I would get. Crowley gave me twelve hits, Mee gave me eight, Stokes gave me over 350 birth records dating back to 1658. I think I have more Irish blood in me than the 1/8th I originally thought.
I believe the Clock store is going to open up at any minute now, so I'm off to see if the name is still present in worker of the shop.
John
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Post Wicklow, current Dublin
Well the rest of my European adventure has begun. I will always remember my time at the hostel in a wonderful light. It's very rare that many people can come from different countries, and have barriers with communication but still be as close as those who worked at the hostel were. Granted, we did have certain things to bond over, but to think that I worked with 34 different people from about seven different countries and got along and got to know them all is quite a cool thing. I wish everyone there the best, and that they enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed their's.
I just bought my train ticket to Cork, and am excited to go snoop around some libraries to see if I can find some ancestral links. I also just had my first European soccer/football experience, as I was walking to find this Internet cafe I'm sitting in at the moment, I stumbled upon Mother Kelly's and had a quick pint with 20 rabid Liverpool fans. OK, maybe rabid is a bit of an overstatement, but they were definitely enthusiastic.
John
I just bought my train ticket to Cork, and am excited to go snoop around some libraries to see if I can find some ancestral links. I also just had my first European soccer/football experience, as I was walking to find this Internet cafe I'm sitting in at the moment, I stumbled upon Mother Kelly's and had a quick pint with 20 rabid Liverpool fans. OK, maybe rabid is a bit of an overstatement, but they were definitely enthusiastic.
John
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Last days of Wicklow
The wall construction has been put on hold the past two days as we've taken out a couple of trees, and almost lost a wwoofer. Poor old Chris was taking down a branch when it fought back, and took out the ladder he was using. Luckily he only had a slight puncture in his arm, but scary regardless. I'm currently taking a day off and am helping make homemade pasta noodles with Giacomo (Yes, he's Italian). It's actually not as difficult as I thought it would be, and is a good thing to know how to do, but not something I would do once a week.
I will be leaving the Wicklow hostel in the next three days, and will have about five days in Ireland before I head to Madrid. I've enjoyed my time here, have had the pleasure to work with tons of amaing people, and have learned things I never had thought about before getting here (i.e. making pasta from scratch, and how tires are sized. We've all decided to get 205/55 R 16 tattooed on our shoulders. However, I feel like I've spent the perfect amount of time here. I've adjusted to the time, how things are done here, and how to listen attentivley as not everyone here sounds like Oregonians. Never the less, it will feel a bit like leaving home when sunday comes around.
Thanks to some family research, I will be heading to Cork on monday to try to find some info on the Crawley ancestors of our's that lived there. After that, I will head back to Dublin for a day, then spend the night in the Dublin airport since my flight to Madrid is at 630 in the morning.
John
P.S. Yay for Whitney! Under-grad is in the past!
I will be leaving the Wicklow hostel in the next three days, and will have about five days in Ireland before I head to Madrid. I've enjoyed my time here, have had the pleasure to work with tons of amaing people, and have learned things I never had thought about before getting here (i.e. making pasta from scratch, and how tires are sized. We've all decided to get 205/55 R 16 tattooed on our shoulders. However, I feel like I've spent the perfect amount of time here. I've adjusted to the time, how things are done here, and how to listen attentivley as not everyone here sounds like Oregonians. Never the less, it will feel a bit like leaving home when sunday comes around.
Thanks to some family research, I will be heading to Cork on monday to try to find some info on the Crawley ancestors of our's that lived there. After that, I will head back to Dublin for a day, then spend the night in the Dublin airport since my flight to Madrid is at 630 in the morning.
John
P.S. Yay for Whitney! Under-grad is in the past!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Wicklow updates
Well we've lost the majority of the French, and I think the Americans out number everybody! At least this morning we did, but Lilly and Teasha left so things have evened out. Today we unloaded 500 tires and then got rid of another 500 tires which was pretty nuts, but we were very efficient and got it done by lunch. I'm excited for the upcoming week because some of us are planning a fishing trip to a lake in a near by city that requires a two hour hike, to a secluded lake full of trout.
In other news, thanks to the wonders of facebook, I have contacted a certain Tom Fisher and have found out that he and his sister Holly will be attending Tomatina as well. I'm really excited to throw some tomatoes at some Spaniards with the Fishers, I can't even describe it.
That's about it, I'm currently typing on a very small keyboard and want to leave the typing to a minimum, but there will be another post soon.
John
In other news, thanks to the wonders of facebook, I have contacted a certain Tom Fisher and have found out that he and his sister Holly will be attending Tomatina as well. I'm really excited to throw some tomatoes at some Spaniards with the Fishers, I can't even describe it.
That's about it, I'm currently typing on a very small keyboard and want to leave the typing to a minimum, but there will be another post soon.
John
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