Well, today involved a lot of traveling, some of it quite nerve-racking. After getting lost time and time again trying to get to the train station from our hotel in the most frustrating navigation my grandmother has ever done we finally made it onto the train - but not before I met a new friend.
She was meowing loudly from under the rental cars in the parking garage, and a man seemed to be calling her. When I saw her dart between cars, I knelt down and wiggled my fingers; the poor hungry thing crawled up to me, meowing like crazy, and shoved her little head into my hands and rolled over onto her back. She was young - still a catten - but so adorable and helpless. Also, she was dirty, which I discovered when I picked her up. The man, when I asked if it was his cat, shrugged and said that she'd been there for days, probably lost when a family returned their car. He told me to take her, and goodness, I wanted to. But obviously getting a stray cat back to the States would be difficult, not to mention that my family hates cats. So yeah. That made me sad. Good luck to you, dear cat! I hope you leave the parking garage and go eat rats on the farms! It's not too far. :(
Anyway, we took the train to London, then caught a cab, which dropped me off at Marylebone Station to start my journey on my own.
Oh oh oh! But I forgot to tell you! In the train station in Brussels, miraculously, there was a shop selling Tin Tin stuff! So much stuff and I wanted it all! I bought a pin, which I would show you a picture of except my grandparents took it with them to Maenporth, along with all the other stuff I don't need to carry around the country with me. So that was awesome . :D
Anyway, back to London. I got my ticket, which was easy, and then sat around awkwardly as I waited for it to show up on the board. The fact that I mixed up the Departures side and the Arrivals side probably didn't help my anxiety when it didn't show up. I had to ask the info desk people more than once what I was doing wrong. Anyway, I felt ridiculous and awkward, as I have ever since traveling by myself. But it's getting better.
Anyway, I got on the train and hoped that it was the right one and I was in the right seat. But don't worry. I was. :) I got to Stratford-upon-Avon (hoping that it was the right stop) and promptly got hopelessly lost. A nice lady pointed me in a direction, but either I did not see what she meant or it was the wrong one, because I continued to be lost. Then, after wandering around with my bags for a good long time, a merciful bus driver asked me what I was looking for, and when I told him, kindly informed me that the bus I needed did not run this late, and my options were to walk 4 miles or take a taxi. So yeah. I took a taxi. -_- it wasn't as expensive as I thought it would be, and the driver was nice. I feel like a lot if people can tell immediately that I am a tourist, lost and alone, which is probably not a good thing but what can I do about it? I've never done any of this before by myself, and there's a gigantic chance that I'm doing it all wrong and am actually an idiot.
Anyway. I made it to the hostel, but it was dinner time and there was no one at the front desk so I waited and waited and wondered what to do, feeling, again, awkward and stupid. But someone eventually came and a very nice lady checked me in and gave me a membership and sent me up to my room.
I sat in the room a long time, looking at the other beds and wondering who owned them, and hoping it wasn't someone crazy or easily offended. I would, after all, probably do a lot of things wrong this first time and might not be the best roommate ever. So I waited and made my bed and got myself organized and eventually a woman came in with her young daughter, Lisa and Sophia, respectively. I was so relieved! Somehow, when I'm stressed out, it's easier to talk politely to an adult than to talk friendly to a fellow teenager. I don't know. You already know I'm awkward, and that's probably why. It's a lot harder to make friends than to be polite and nice and companionable. But she's very nice. The other two ladies I'm staying with are also older, although the hostel is full of kids my age who speak a weird mix of Romanian-or-something and cockney English.
So yeah. Now I'm gonna go to sleep in this creaky top bunk and hope I don't ruin everyone's night by being too loud.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Day 16: Heidelburg and Driving Back to Brussels
Today was mostly driving through Germany and Luxembourg to our hotel at the Brussels Airport. Though this morning we did go explore Heidelburg's old town, including the famous bridge and Heidelburg Universität, the oldest university in Germany. There we saw the fancy old hall (where Dr. Bunsen of the Bunsen burner is immortalized on the wall along with all the other professors) and looked at the student prison, where students were incarcerated for drunkenness, impoliteness, or dueling until the early 1900s. There was some very interesting and elaborate old graffiti on the walls, which you can see below.
The only other thing we did today was try (and fail) to go to the brand-new Musée Hergé (basically the Tin Tin Museum) in Louvain-la-Neuve outside of Brussels, but we got there just half an hour after it closed, which mostly sucks because I wanted to buy Tin Tin stuff. :( Oh well!
So that's pretty much it. Tomorrow back to London on the train, then I'm off to Stratford. I am a leeeeeetle nervous - mostly because I don't want to spend too much money, get horribly lost, or not speak to another human for a week, which knowing me (and my general awkwardness) might happen if I'm not brave. Oh and also getting raped/murdered/mugged/creeped on/conned/kidnapped. You know. The whole range of stuff that women are supposed to be afraid of. But whatevs.
We will see how this goes.
Oh, and here are the crappy pictures I took today:
The only other thing we did today was try (and fail) to go to the brand-new Musée Hergé (basically the Tin Tin Museum) in Louvain-la-Neuve outside of Brussels, but we got there just half an hour after it closed, which mostly sucks because I wanted to buy Tin Tin stuff. :( Oh well!
So that's pretty much it. Tomorrow back to London on the train, then I'm off to Stratford. I am a leeeeeetle nervous - mostly because I don't want to spend too much money, get horribly lost, or not speak to another human for a week, which knowing me (and my general awkwardness) might happen if I'm not brave. Oh and also getting raped/murdered/mugged/creeped on/conned/kidnapped. You know. The whole range of stuff that women are supposed to be afraid of. But whatevs.
We will see how this goes.
Oh, and here are the crappy pictures I took today:
Thursday, June 28, 2012
The Miniature Mountaineering Man I Forgot
Thanks dear brother for making me aware that I forgot this dear picture of the most creative gravestone ever. You definitely don't want to miss this, so sorry. That was my bad.
Day 15: The Alps and Driving to Hiedelburg
Today was rather adventurous (except, of course, the six hours of driving). Let me recount, including all the breathtaking, vomit-inducing, and hungry-making details.
When I woke up (or more, when i gave up on the whole sleep thing) in Kitzbuhel it was raining, the town church outside my window was making an unholy fuss about it being seven o'clock, and my head was killing me. You see, despite it's many merits, the hotel Tiefenbrunner has possibly the hardest beds I've ever slept on. Dad, never sleep there.
But it had a lovely breakfast with a gorgeous assortment of granolas and cereals and meusli and fruits. And also more of those scrambled eggs. Seriously, what does Europe put in their scrambled eggs that make them so damn good? I thought The US was supposed to be on top of the "American breakfast" thing.
Anyway, it was still cloudy when we left, so we decided to hit the road instead of going up the mountain in the cable car. But as we were driving the clouds cleared miraculously (stupid clouds), so we turned around and sped back into town. After some tense disputes with the ticket lady about what the definition of "student ID" was and whether I really was 18, we hopped on a car and went to the top (1900 meters up?) where we then hiked downhill through an Alpine garden to the next station. The evidence of this adventure is below, including my encounter with a curious cow on the roadside. The other cows ignored me, but this one seemed to be very friendly and think I was interesting. Nice cow. We also saw a deer and some kind of hawk.
Fast forward several hours and we're in the road again. We stop for lunch at a rest station and I get a croissant. When I pull off a piece of it I discover that its not just any croissant - it's a ham and cheese croissant! I eat the piece and go in for another bite - only to glimpse, in one horrifying moment, a fat black fly living inside the pastry.
Oh my god. I don't even want to think about that anymore. :-S
You can imagine how difficult it was to explain to the German boys who'd sold it to me. But yeah. That whole situation was awful and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to eat a ham and cheese croissant again. Oh god.
So after that rattling incident, we continued on until we reached Hiedelburg, where we are now. We found dinner at a delicious Kurdish restaurant down the street. You know how good Mexican food is in Texas? Well, Middle Eastern food is that way here, because Arabic people are the main immigrants. Mmmmm. I love Middle Eastern food. :) And no insects! :D
So yeah. Now I'm sitting on a bed that is about as wide as my bed is long and is hopefully more comfortable than the one in Kitzbuhel. Tomorrow, we go back to Brussels, completing our European Circuit, and from there back to London, where I will strike out on my own the day after tomorrow. Hopefully that will go well. Ahem.
Stay tuned! :)
When I woke up (or more, when i gave up on the whole sleep thing) in Kitzbuhel it was raining, the town church outside my window was making an unholy fuss about it being seven o'clock, and my head was killing me. You see, despite it's many merits, the hotel Tiefenbrunner has possibly the hardest beds I've ever slept on. Dad, never sleep there.
But it had a lovely breakfast with a gorgeous assortment of granolas and cereals and meusli and fruits. And also more of those scrambled eggs. Seriously, what does Europe put in their scrambled eggs that make them so damn good? I thought The US was supposed to be on top of the "American breakfast" thing.
Anyway, it was still cloudy when we left, so we decided to hit the road instead of going up the mountain in the cable car. But as we were driving the clouds cleared miraculously (stupid clouds), so we turned around and sped back into town. After some tense disputes with the ticket lady about what the definition of "student ID" was and whether I really was 18, we hopped on a car and went to the top (1900 meters up?) where we then hiked downhill through an Alpine garden to the next station. The evidence of this adventure is below, including my encounter with a curious cow on the roadside. The other cows ignored me, but this one seemed to be very friendly and think I was interesting. Nice cow. We also saw a deer and some kind of hawk.
Fast forward several hours and we're in the road again. We stop for lunch at a rest station and I get a croissant. When I pull off a piece of it I discover that its not just any croissant - it's a ham and cheese croissant! I eat the piece and go in for another bite - only to glimpse, in one horrifying moment, a fat black fly living inside the pastry.
Oh my god. I don't even want to think about that anymore. :-S
You can imagine how difficult it was to explain to the German boys who'd sold it to me. But yeah. That whole situation was awful and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to eat a ham and cheese croissant again. Oh god.
So after that rattling incident, we continued on until we reached Hiedelburg, where we are now. We found dinner at a delicious Kurdish restaurant down the street. You know how good Mexican food is in Texas? Well, Middle Eastern food is that way here, because Arabic people are the main immigrants. Mmmmm. I love Middle Eastern food. :) And no insects! :D
So yeah. Now I'm sitting on a bed that is about as wide as my bed is long and is hopefully more comfortable than the one in Kitzbuhel. Tomorrow, we go back to Brussels, completing our European Circuit, and from there back to London, where I will strike out on my own the day after tomorrow. Hopefully that will go well. Ahem.
Stay tuned! :)
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
IV or IIII?
Also, I've been seeing a lot of clocks - usually quite old clocks - that say IIII instead of IV for 4:00. I have no idea why, and I was wondering if anyone out there could tell me. :)
Like this:
Like this:
Day 14: Kitzbuhel, City of Oh-Wait-This-is-Definitely-a-Village
And quite a cute one at that! After driving from Vienna all up into the Alps (past Hitler's infamous Eagle's Nest) and stopping at a breathtaking mountain lake at Zell am See and to get fresh strawberries, we arrived at this adorable little fold in the mountains containing this gorgeous little retreat, quite in contrast, as you can see, to my previous adventures on this trip.
We're staying at a Fancypants hotel - the Tiefenbrunner, where everything is decorated like a lodge and the staff wear traditional Austrian dress (think liederhosen and the female version). Below you can see the view from my window (as well as my window!) and the fancy light and fancy key.
After checking in we wandered around a bit and found, in the churchyard, the most fascinating cemetery. Each gravesite contains, at the foot of a wrought iron grave marker, A small 3' x 4' garden plot, each one unique and lovingly tended, obviously by the family of the deceased and the community at large. The plots are usually family plots, dating as far back as the 1800s and as recent as this year. Just being there for twenty minutes, we saw at least six people tending various plots. It was truly a neat concept, somehow so much more respectful and caring than the standard grey rock in the middle of a field of grey rocks. This cemetery was a happy place; perhaps mournful, perhaps full of death, but also overflowing - literally - with life. Also, it contained the most creative and personal grave stone I have ever seen - see the miniature mountaineering man below.
Lastly, I feel I must record for you the magnificent four-course meal we had in the hotel. It was a set menu with limited choices, but oh! It was delicious.
Melon with prosciutto (I only ate the ham)
French Onion soup (amazing!)
Salad bar with about a dozen different gourmet vinegars and oils and plenty of unique add-ins & a make-your-own bread basket with French baguette, seeded rolls, German black bread, and others
Spaghetti with basil, olive oil, and garlic (my choice out of three fancier meals, but it was surprisingly flavorful!)
Apricot strudel with vanilla ice cream and red currants (yummmmm!)
Near-perfect meal for a hungry Ariel. :)
We're staying at a Fancypants hotel - the Tiefenbrunner, where everything is decorated like a lodge and the staff wear traditional Austrian dress (think liederhosen and the female version). Below you can see the view from my window (as well as my window!) and the fancy light and fancy key.
After checking in we wandered around a bit and found, in the churchyard, the most fascinating cemetery. Each gravesite contains, at the foot of a wrought iron grave marker, A small 3' x 4' garden plot, each one unique and lovingly tended, obviously by the family of the deceased and the community at large. The plots are usually family plots, dating as far back as the 1800s and as recent as this year. Just being there for twenty minutes, we saw at least six people tending various plots. It was truly a neat concept, somehow so much more respectful and caring than the standard grey rock in the middle of a field of grey rocks. This cemetery was a happy place; perhaps mournful, perhaps full of death, but also overflowing - literally - with life. Also, it contained the most creative and personal grave stone I have ever seen - see the miniature mountaineering man below.
Lastly, I feel I must record for you the magnificent four-course meal we had in the hotel. It was a set menu with limited choices, but oh! It was delicious.
Melon with prosciutto (I only ate the ham)
French Onion soup (amazing!)
Salad bar with about a dozen different gourmet vinegars and oils and plenty of unique add-ins & a make-your-own bread basket with French baguette, seeded rolls, German black bread, and others
Spaghetti with basil, olive oil, and garlic (my choice out of three fancier meals, but it was surprisingly flavorful!)
Apricot strudel with vanilla ice cream and red currants (yummmmm!)
Near-perfect meal for a hungry Ariel. :)
Day 13: Vienna, City of Culture and Class
First of all, sorry I did not post yesterday. If you must know, my post would have been titled: Vienna, City of Dinner. Because that's basically all we had time for when we got here, apart from a walk around Schwedenplatz (I have no idea if that's how to spell/say it) and a ride on the Ring Tram after dark to get a feel of the city's most important places. Some of these pictures are from today, some from yesterday, but I'm lumping them together because I am exhausted. (It didn't help that there was a light in my room that was apparently not connected to a light switch and therefore could not be turned off...that is, until the maintenance guy came this morning and ripped out the lightbulb. Hopefully tonight will be a better one.)
Anyway, this morning we got on a bus to go to the Hofburg when we saw the huge outdoor market. It was raining pretty heavily, but we decided to go anyway. It was wonderful - much like Seattle's Pike Street Market, selling fish and cheese and olives and dried fruit and vinegars. I bought some dried strawberries, kiwis, and mango. If you don't know this, I adore dried fruit. Dried pineapple, papaya, apples, raisins - almost (ALMOST) anything. So that was a wonderful way to spend a few Euros. :)
After we'd seen everything and wandered around a bit, we hopped back on the tram and got off when we saw the famous Mozart statue - Mozart lived in Vienna during his most productive years, and the Viennese are very proud of that fact. Hence the statue. And if you look closely on the picture below, you'll see that the flowers in front are in the shape of a treble clef (that's what it's called, right?). How cute!
Just before going to the palace, we looked at the museum square where there's a big statue of Queen Maria-Theresa, the great queen of Austria. So there are pictures of that.
Next we went to the big palace of the Hofburgs, which today is home to the Spanish Riding School, where horses dance; the Austrian Boys' Choir, which we've all heard and maybe also fear; the Royal Treasury, containing the crown jewels; and the Royal State Rooms, where we went. First was an exhibition on Sisi, or Queen Elisabeth, the beautiful and adored queen of Imperial Austria who was shot in the early 1900s. She was a carefree fifteen-year-old duchess of Bavaria when her cousin the Emperor, then twenty-three, fell in love with her and asked for her hand in marriage. They were married and she became the reluctant Queen. Throughout her life as a royal, she always longed for freedom and was frequently depressed. The only time she ever interfered with politics was in favor of the Hungarian people, whom she felt a fondness for, which led to the Austro-Hungarian agreement or whatever and she and her husband were crowned as rulers of Hungary. Skip a bit, and her only son, Crown Prince Rudolf, who had been a celebrated ornithologist until he got infected with a venereal disease that made him depressed and turn to drugs, committed suicide in the Austrian forest with his young lover. This crushed Sisi, and she wore black and longed for death until she was assassinated. After her death, the Austrian people idolized her.
This exhibit was fascinating, and, together with the family's luxurious apartments, made me realize how little we are taught about European history. I think it is reasonable to suggest that we scrap "Texas history" (Texas is not the whole world, you know) and instead teach kids European and Asian history. I mean, yeah we take World History once (or whatever that was, Maxey -_-) but there's so much more than it is possible to cover in two semesters, even with a teacher who's not a creepy deadbeat - so much more that everyone, not just history majors, need to know. It's ridiculous that we get Texas History twice, American History twice (though yeah, I realize thus is important), and the whole of everything else stuffed into one measly year. Really, it's just prolonging the narrow-mindlessness and ignorance Americans are internationally known for. And believe me, I have felt ignorant seeing all these historical places and monuments and having no idea what they're for but knowing that I SHOULD know. Then again, I pretty much always feel historically ignorant because Jackson. :-P He likes to talk about things in history I wasn't even aware existed, because I'm pretty sure he knows at least something about everything in history.
Anyway, I could rant forever about all the ways education in our state should be changed, but I digress. Back to Wien!
After the palace we ate Sachertorte cake, which is a beautifully rich chocolate Wiener specialty (in case you don't know -Vienna:English::Wien:German). Also, apple strudel. So that was awesome. Then we walked through Schwedenplatz to the Mozart house, which I wasn't allowed to take pictures of, but was basically three stories of wood floor and white walls and Mozart artifacts. It's where he wrote The Marriage of Figaro, and they had plenty of original scores and paintings and some clothes of his. I learned some facts, too - Did you know Mozart was a passionate Free Mason? Because I didn't. Also, he died trying to finish a Requiem for a guy who was just going to steal it anyway. Also, he wrote six pages of music a day at his most productive. And Vienna hated Figaro, but Prague adored it. And he loved his wife, which is always nice to hear in a history lesson, because the assumption is usually that it was eh.
Anyway, I had seen a poster for an Elliot Erwitt exhibition at the Kunst Haus, which is basically a funky art gallery (see black and white checkered building below). Elliot Erwitt is my favorite photographer ever. He's mostly famous for his black-and-white photography, a healthy mix of photojournalism, street photography, and portraits of dogs. His photos all have beautiful symmetry, clever parallelism, and wonderful humor. If you've never heard of him, look him up, and you will realize that, in fact, you have. The exhibition was amazing, full of pictures I'd never seen before but loved. He has pictures of beaches, pictures of children, pictures of dogs and nudists and strange coincidences and odd situations. It's truly brilliant.
Check it out: ellioterwitt.com
So that was my day. :)
Anyway, this morning we got on a bus to go to the Hofburg when we saw the huge outdoor market. It was raining pretty heavily, but we decided to go anyway. It was wonderful - much like Seattle's Pike Street Market, selling fish and cheese and olives and dried fruit and vinegars. I bought some dried strawberries, kiwis, and mango. If you don't know this, I adore dried fruit. Dried pineapple, papaya, apples, raisins - almost (ALMOST) anything. So that was a wonderful way to spend a few Euros. :)
After we'd seen everything and wandered around a bit, we hopped back on the tram and got off when we saw the famous Mozart statue - Mozart lived in Vienna during his most productive years, and the Viennese are very proud of that fact. Hence the statue. And if you look closely on the picture below, you'll see that the flowers in front are in the shape of a treble clef (that's what it's called, right?). How cute!
Just before going to the palace, we looked at the museum square where there's a big statue of Queen Maria-Theresa, the great queen of Austria. So there are pictures of that.
Next we went to the big palace of the Hofburgs, which today is home to the Spanish Riding School, where horses dance; the Austrian Boys' Choir, which we've all heard and maybe also fear; the Royal Treasury, containing the crown jewels; and the Royal State Rooms, where we went. First was an exhibition on Sisi, or Queen Elisabeth, the beautiful and adored queen of Imperial Austria who was shot in the early 1900s. She was a carefree fifteen-year-old duchess of Bavaria when her cousin the Emperor, then twenty-three, fell in love with her and asked for her hand in marriage. They were married and she became the reluctant Queen. Throughout her life as a royal, she always longed for freedom and was frequently depressed. The only time she ever interfered with politics was in favor of the Hungarian people, whom she felt a fondness for, which led to the Austro-Hungarian agreement or whatever and she and her husband were crowned as rulers of Hungary. Skip a bit, and her only son, Crown Prince Rudolf, who had been a celebrated ornithologist until he got infected with a venereal disease that made him depressed and turn to drugs, committed suicide in the Austrian forest with his young lover. This crushed Sisi, and she wore black and longed for death until she was assassinated. After her death, the Austrian people idolized her.
This exhibit was fascinating, and, together with the family's luxurious apartments, made me realize how little we are taught about European history. I think it is reasonable to suggest that we scrap "Texas history" (Texas is not the whole world, you know) and instead teach kids European and Asian history. I mean, yeah we take World History once (or whatever that was, Maxey -_-) but there's so much more than it is possible to cover in two semesters, even with a teacher who's not a creepy deadbeat - so much more that everyone, not just history majors, need to know. It's ridiculous that we get Texas History twice, American History twice (though yeah, I realize thus is important), and the whole of everything else stuffed into one measly year. Really, it's just prolonging the narrow-mindlessness and ignorance Americans are internationally known for. And believe me, I have felt ignorant seeing all these historical places and monuments and having no idea what they're for but knowing that I SHOULD know. Then again, I pretty much always feel historically ignorant because Jackson. :-P He likes to talk about things in history I wasn't even aware existed, because I'm pretty sure he knows at least something about everything in history.
Anyway, I could rant forever about all the ways education in our state should be changed, but I digress. Back to Wien!
After the palace we ate Sachertorte cake, which is a beautifully rich chocolate Wiener specialty (in case you don't know -Vienna:English::Wien:German). Also, apple strudel. So that was awesome. Then we walked through Schwedenplatz to the Mozart house, which I wasn't allowed to take pictures of, but was basically three stories of wood floor and white walls and Mozart artifacts. It's where he wrote The Marriage of Figaro, and they had plenty of original scores and paintings and some clothes of his. I learned some facts, too - Did you know Mozart was a passionate Free Mason? Because I didn't. Also, he died trying to finish a Requiem for a guy who was just going to steal it anyway. Also, he wrote six pages of music a day at his most productive. And Vienna hated Figaro, but Prague adored it. And he loved his wife, which is always nice to hear in a history lesson, because the assumption is usually that it was eh.
Anyway, I had seen a poster for an Elliot Erwitt exhibition at the Kunst Haus, which is basically a funky art gallery (see black and white checkered building below). Elliot Erwitt is my favorite photographer ever. He's mostly famous for his black-and-white photography, a healthy mix of photojournalism, street photography, and portraits of dogs. His photos all have beautiful symmetry, clever parallelism, and wonderful humor. If you've never heard of him, look him up, and you will realize that, in fact, you have. The exhibition was amazing, full of pictures I'd never seen before but loved. He has pictures of beaches, pictures of children, pictures of dogs and nudists and strange coincidences and odd situations. It's truly brilliant.
Check it out: ellioterwitt.com
So that was my day. :)
Sunday, June 24, 2012
The Most Adventurous Day in the Life of my Shirt.
I am Ariel's shirt. She usually wears me to sleep in, which is why I was concerned when yesterday I was far, far away from her at bedtime. I knew she'd be confused and worried, but as I have no legs, it was a hopeless case.
Let me tell you a little about myself. I may be old and have holes and stains, but I have The Beatles on me, so that makes me awesome. I used to belong to a boy for a long time, but he gave me to Ariel, which makes me happy because she wears me aaaaaaaall the time. :)
So that's why I wasn't too surprised when she threw me on top of the bag that I live in with her other clothes when she was hurrying to leave in the morning. She even looked at me and muttered, "Yeah, that'll be fine there, no need to put it away." You know, I'm kind of glad she didn't.
So there I was peacefully sleeping when the door opens and two ladies come in with a big cart. They start vacuuming and putting the sheets back where they belong (silly sheets, always running away). But when she brought the towels out of the bathroom, she dropped one right on top of me! And that towel was big and fluffy and MEAN, so when she went to pick him up again, he took me with him!
We got thrown in to a giant cart full of towels, all squirming and white. I figured, since I am dark grey, someone would see me and put me back where I belonged. But we went down the elevator and no one even noticed!
I was starting to get seriously concerned - who would know where to bring me home to? We'd been sleeping in lot of different beds lately - what if Ariel left without me? :(
Suddenly, I felt a hand pluck me out of the towel bin! Hope rose in my collar. Someone found me and would put me back!
I heard voices talking in words I didn't understand, and rough hand balling me up. I was tossed to one side and left there for hours.
Ariel would be back by now. Maybe she would even be looking for me. But I was gone. I was probably going to be composted. My sleeves were limp with despondency.
Then I felt someone pawing at me, unfolding me. Words of admiration in that strange tongue. Smelling me gingerly, but I smell just fine, thank you. I had a bath not two days ago! The person shoved me awkwardly into a jacket pocket and walked a short distance and sat down.
It was definitely full night now. Ariel was probably asleep. I wondered who she was wearing and if I would ever . see her again. The person went into a place that was very noisy and very smoky and had lots of people inside. There's no way I would smell good now. He say down, and I flopped around a bit before he took off his jacket - with me inside - and slung it over a chai. I was almost touching the ground now, and maaaaybe, if I tried reeeeeally hard, I could escape onto the floor.
As the night progressed and my captor kept on sitting there talking, I inched my way out of the pocket, stitch by stitch. Just before the man stood up and took his jacket, I managed to yank the last corner of my hem down onto the carpet.
I waited there for just a few hours, uncertain of the future. Then two ladies picked me up, talking and laughing at me a little, before throwing me in a box with some old, grimy socks and a depressed scarf or two behind a counter. She talked to a couple of people about room reservations. I was still inside the hotel! Hope flared up again.
Still, I waited and waited and waited and no signs of Ariel. That is, until the lady fished me out of that stinking box. I heard someone ask, "Does it have the Beatles on it?" and a faint reply, "Yeah, it does," then Ariel was there, grabbing me! I was flooding with joy, from the tips of my sleeves to the edge of my hem.
But the lady was speaking:
"We did not find it in your room," she said. And then with a grin, "It was in the bar. We figured someone was getting naked there last night."
"Ummm..." Ariel said awkwardly, "I have no idea how that happened. That's actually a little creepy. But it's definitely mine."
So the lady handed me over and Ariel put me away in my home. It was such a relief to see my old friends again! Though I hope I get another bath before Ariel wears me again. It's been quite an adventure for a shirt - even more than when the boy owned me and he would do crazy things. I am very, very glad to be home! :)
Let me tell you a little about myself. I may be old and have holes and stains, but I have The Beatles on me, so that makes me awesome. I used to belong to a boy for a long time, but he gave me to Ariel, which makes me happy because she wears me aaaaaaaall the time. :)
So that's why I wasn't too surprised when she threw me on top of the bag that I live in with her other clothes when she was hurrying to leave in the morning. She even looked at me and muttered, "Yeah, that'll be fine there, no need to put it away." You know, I'm kind of glad she didn't.
So there I was peacefully sleeping when the door opens and two ladies come in with a big cart. They start vacuuming and putting the sheets back where they belong (silly sheets, always running away). But when she brought the towels out of the bathroom, she dropped one right on top of me! And that towel was big and fluffy and MEAN, so when she went to pick him up again, he took me with him!
We got thrown in to a giant cart full of towels, all squirming and white. I figured, since I am dark grey, someone would see me and put me back where I belonged. But we went down the elevator and no one even noticed!
I was starting to get seriously concerned - who would know where to bring me home to? We'd been sleeping in lot of different beds lately - what if Ariel left without me? :(
Suddenly, I felt a hand pluck me out of the towel bin! Hope rose in my collar. Someone found me and would put me back!
I heard voices talking in words I didn't understand, and rough hand balling me up. I was tossed to one side and left there for hours.
Ariel would be back by now. Maybe she would even be looking for me. But I was gone. I was probably going to be composted. My sleeves were limp with despondency.
Then I felt someone pawing at me, unfolding me. Words of admiration in that strange tongue. Smelling me gingerly, but I smell just fine, thank you. I had a bath not two days ago! The person shoved me awkwardly into a jacket pocket and walked a short distance and sat down.
It was definitely full night now. Ariel was probably asleep. I wondered who she was wearing and if I would ever . see her again. The person went into a place that was very noisy and very smoky and had lots of people inside. There's no way I would smell good now. He say down, and I flopped around a bit before he took off his jacket - with me inside - and slung it over a chai. I was almost touching the ground now, and maaaaybe, if I tried reeeeeally hard, I could escape onto the floor.
As the night progressed and my captor kept on sitting there talking, I inched my way out of the pocket, stitch by stitch. Just before the man stood up and took his jacket, I managed to yank the last corner of my hem down onto the carpet.
I waited there for just a few hours, uncertain of the future. Then two ladies picked me up, talking and laughing at me a little, before throwing me in a box with some old, grimy socks and a depressed scarf or two behind a counter. She talked to a couple of people about room reservations. I was still inside the hotel! Hope flared up again.
Still, I waited and waited and waited and no signs of Ariel. That is, until the lady fished me out of that stinking box. I heard someone ask, "Does it have the Beatles on it?" and a faint reply, "Yeah, it does," then Ariel was there, grabbing me! I was flooding with joy, from the tips of my sleeves to the edge of my hem.
But the lady was speaking:
"We did not find it in your room," she said. And then with a grin, "It was in the bar. We figured someone was getting naked there last night."
"Ummm..." Ariel said awkwardly, "I have no idea how that happened. That's actually a little creepy. But it's definitely mine."
So the lady handed me over and Ariel put me away in my home. It was such a relief to see my old friends again! Though I hope I get another bath before Ariel wears me again. It's been quite an adventure for a shirt - even more than when the boy owned me and he would do crazy things. I am very, very glad to be home! :)
Day 11: Prague, City of Music and Sunlight (and also tourists)
Yeah, just ignore my poor numbering skills. It's hard to do this when I'm half asleep!
My goodness, today's post is going to be hard to write! We did so much - pretty much all the big Prague things tourists are supposed to do - in one day. I am exhausted and sunburned (which is an unfortunate miracle when you consider how wet the weather has been so far), but I wasn't robbed! :) Looking on the bright side.
Anyway, today we left our hotel (which is in a magnificent communist-era copy of a university in Moscow, built especially for Stalin, though he died before he came here) and headed to the metro, but before we got there we came upon a beautiful farmer's market - easily ten times the size of the respectable market in Denton - and full of locally made bread, cheese, sausage, olives, fish, flowers, and produce. It was magnificent. So after lots of confusion with changing money - Euros to Krons (Kč), about 1€/20Kč - we bought an herbed wheat baguette, some kalamata and green olives, and some cheese to eat for lunch later. Sitting in a riverside park looking out over the city, it was a truly fantastic lunch, indeed!
But I am getting ahead of myself. First, we went down to the famous Charles Bridge, which starts under this huge tower flying what I assume are the Czech colors and continues across the Vlata (?) river between thirty-one statues of religious icons. Along the way there are certain pieces of these statues that it is good luck to touch or wish upon, including a girl, a dog, and a picture of Saint Wenceslaus. I touched the dog, because I thought it was adorable. :) but perhaps the most striking thing about Charles Bridge was the awesome atmosphere. I mean sure, everyone there is a tourist, but the art stalls and (really quite talented) street performers give it a unique vibe. We saw an adorable blues band, a guy playing on of those windup accordions with a fake monkey, a generic Czech band, a guy playing the normal accordion, and a man with the most extensive one-man-band instrument I've ever seen (or heard of, or imagined).
In fact, Prague is an incredibly musical city, I've noticed. There has rarely been a moment when music couldn't be heard being performed or played in restaurants, stores, cars, parks, and roads. There were always concerts at the cathedrals and music halls and setting up in the parks, and our hotel rooms were playing us music when we walked into them. Oh, and there's a wall - the John Lennon Wall - that was covered in peace and anti-conformist graffiti in honor of John when he died; every time it was repainted by the angry owners, the youth of Prague came back with a mischievous vengeance and covered it again. Today, it is a colorful, ever-changing work of rebellious but wise art, championing such philosophies as:
"Live life as if you will die tomorrow; dream as if you will live forever."
"If they don't let us dream--Then we don't let them sleep."
"Love is the greatest refreshment in life."
It's absolutely awesome.
Anyway, after the Bridge we hiked up to the castle/cathedral thing that stares over the city and took a brief look inside. The modern stained glass windows are veritable kaleidoscopes of color and the outside is covered in detailed carvings.
Next we went bookstore hopping to find Czech Harry Potter, which we finally did in the freaking enormous bookshop on Wenceslaus Square, but I did not end up buying it because it was heavy and hard back and expensive and had the same cover as the American ones and Czech's just not worth it (sorry, Czech).
Anyway, then we went into the Old Town and found the Astronomical Click. It's a massive clock given to the Czechs in the 15th century and is somehow supposed to tell time, though between the many moving circles, way-too-fancy-to-read text, and the fact that the numbers don't start or end where you'd expect them to, it's pretty much useless as a time piece today. But every hour it does a cute little show, where Death rings a bell, the apostles nod at you one by one from little windows at the top, and a cock crows before the bells ring. Apparently you can also tell the zodiac and sunset time from this clock, but yeah. Mostly it's just a fancy novelty, but quite a pretty one!
After that came the boat ride, where we saw Prague from the water. Though i had lots of trouble understanding our guide through his thick Czech accent, it was very interesting and pretty. Also, there were baby swans. Four of them. Which, despite the Ugly Duckling who was really a baby swan, are not ugly at all. So that was great. :)
Then we went to dinner by the John Lennon wall (and my water was twice the cost of my grandparent's beer). And then we came home, by this time worn out and uncomfortable.
And tomorrow, basically our last city stop: Vienna!
My goodness, today's post is going to be hard to write! We did so much - pretty much all the big Prague things tourists are supposed to do - in one day. I am exhausted and sunburned (which is an unfortunate miracle when you consider how wet the weather has been so far), but I wasn't robbed! :) Looking on the bright side.
Anyway, today we left our hotel (which is in a magnificent communist-era copy of a university in Moscow, built especially for Stalin, though he died before he came here) and headed to the metro, but before we got there we came upon a beautiful farmer's market - easily ten times the size of the respectable market in Denton - and full of locally made bread, cheese, sausage, olives, fish, flowers, and produce. It was magnificent. So after lots of confusion with changing money - Euros to Krons (Kč), about 1€/20Kč - we bought an herbed wheat baguette, some kalamata and green olives, and some cheese to eat for lunch later. Sitting in a riverside park looking out over the city, it was a truly fantastic lunch, indeed!
But I am getting ahead of myself. First, we went down to the famous Charles Bridge, which starts under this huge tower flying what I assume are the Czech colors and continues across the Vlata (?) river between thirty-one statues of religious icons. Along the way there are certain pieces of these statues that it is good luck to touch or wish upon, including a girl, a dog, and a picture of Saint Wenceslaus. I touched the dog, because I thought it was adorable. :) but perhaps the most striking thing about Charles Bridge was the awesome atmosphere. I mean sure, everyone there is a tourist, but the art stalls and (really quite talented) street performers give it a unique vibe. We saw an adorable blues band, a guy playing on of those windup accordions with a fake monkey, a generic Czech band, a guy playing the normal accordion, and a man with the most extensive one-man-band instrument I've ever seen (or heard of, or imagined).
In fact, Prague is an incredibly musical city, I've noticed. There has rarely been a moment when music couldn't be heard being performed or played in restaurants, stores, cars, parks, and roads. There were always concerts at the cathedrals and music halls and setting up in the parks, and our hotel rooms were playing us music when we walked into them. Oh, and there's a wall - the John Lennon Wall - that was covered in peace and anti-conformist graffiti in honor of John when he died; every time it was repainted by the angry owners, the youth of Prague came back with a mischievous vengeance and covered it again. Today, it is a colorful, ever-changing work of rebellious but wise art, championing such philosophies as:
"Live life as if you will die tomorrow; dream as if you will live forever."
"If they don't let us dream--Then we don't let them sleep."
"Love is the greatest refreshment in life."
It's absolutely awesome.
Anyway, after the Bridge we hiked up to the castle/cathedral thing that stares over the city and took a brief look inside. The modern stained glass windows are veritable kaleidoscopes of color and the outside is covered in detailed carvings.
Next we went bookstore hopping to find Czech Harry Potter, which we finally did in the freaking enormous bookshop on Wenceslaus Square, but I did not end up buying it because it was heavy and hard back and expensive and had the same cover as the American ones and Czech's just not worth it (sorry, Czech).
Anyway, then we went into the Old Town and found the Astronomical Click. It's a massive clock given to the Czechs in the 15th century and is somehow supposed to tell time, though between the many moving circles, way-too-fancy-to-read text, and the fact that the numbers don't start or end where you'd expect them to, it's pretty much useless as a time piece today. But every hour it does a cute little show, where Death rings a bell, the apostles nod at you one by one from little windows at the top, and a cock crows before the bells ring. Apparently you can also tell the zodiac and sunset time from this clock, but yeah. Mostly it's just a fancy novelty, but quite a pretty one!
After that came the boat ride, where we saw Prague from the water. Though i had lots of trouble understanding our guide through his thick Czech accent, it was very interesting and pretty. Also, there were baby swans. Four of them. Which, despite the Ugly Duckling who was really a baby swan, are not ugly at all. So that was great. :)
Then we went to dinner by the John Lennon wall (and my water was twice the cost of my grandparent's beer). And then we came home, by this time worn out and uncomfortable.
And tomorrow, basically our last city stop: Vienna!
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