Arthur Guinness: friend to all

Alright. I'm back from Da Dub, and there's a lot to write about. We arrived in Dublin at around 11 am to the wonderful Ryanair theme song, and caught a 2.20 euro Dublin Bus into the city. We were all very weary from our early morning travels, and we couldn't check into our hostel (the Times Hostel) until around 2 pm, so we decided to have our first Irish meal at a traditional Irish pub. The food was pretty good, but definitely not the best of our trip. As long as I'm on the topic of pubs, I'm going to end this play-by-play and just talk about the pub scene.

The best area of Dublin is called the Temple Bar district. It's Dublin's center of Irish tradition, music, and most importantly, drinking. I've never seen a more concentrated area of merriment in my life. It's an old, fairly narrow, cobblestone street, lined exclusively with pubs and restaurants. There's even a Hard Rock cafe. Most of the pubs have live music throughout the day (and night), and since we happened to be in Dublin for "Trad Fest", all of the music was traditional Irish, although we did hear some classic Green Day and Oasis. But with or without the traditional music, these pubs were RIDIC. Totally unlike any bar I've seen in the US. Since Irish people are naturally happy and festive, their presence naturally makes for a good time. Their attitude and passion for drinking is remarkable, and it seems like they view Arthur Guinness as a close friend or family member.

On our first night out at Temple Bar, after purchasing our Guinness and ignorantly wondering why the bartender was just letting them sit at the bar while they weren't filled (to be explained later), we tried to inch our way closer to the live music. We were unsuccessful, but found ourselves next to fellow Americans from Cincinnati. They were both in their mid 20s, and it was a treat to run into fellow travelers who spoke an unadulterated form of English. Unsurprisingly, we ended up seeing them at other pubs that night and at other locations over the next couple of days. Very easy to make friends here.

Our first full day in Dublin brought us to the Guinness Storehouse, Ireland's most popular tourist attraction. I initially questioned if it was worth paying 11 euros for a simple tour of a brewery/storehouse, but I very quickly discovered the brilliance of the Guinness franchise. I'll spare most of the details of our tour, but the storehouse is in the shape of a giant pint glass (the largest in the world), and is filled with information that covers Guinness's history, brewing techniques, advertising campaign, and best of all, a free pint at the highest point in Dublin. The bar at the top only serves Guinness, of course, and wow do they really take pride in their beer. They have a special technique where the pint glass is first filled nearly to the top. Then they let it sit for a couple minutes until they finish by topping it off with the perfect pour. Truly an art. But you can't drink it yet -- you must wait two minutes for the beer to settle. Finally, the beer is ready to be enjoyed.

Believe it or not, we did more than drink Guinness during our stay in Dublin. We went on a historical tour of some of the city's most interesting sites, led by a Trinity College history grad. Our tour covered the Dublin castle (very disappointing), the viking/medieval area ("dece"), Trinity College, the former parliament building which is now a bank (very cool), and the Temple Bar district. The tour guide was very animated, spoke well, and was very knowledgeable about Dublin, but by far the best part of our trip came just hours before our flight back to our new home.

Having basically seen everything Dublin has to offer, we had some time to kill at around 1:30 in the afternoon. So, naturally, we headed over to Temple Bar for what we thought would be our last Guinness of the trip. The bar was packed with jolly Irishmen who clearly had nothing better to do than drink on a Saturday afternoon, but we luckily got a table next to an older (50s, probably) couple. It didn't take too long for Grace to make conversation, and before we knew it, our new friend Phil and his wife were offering to buy us pints. He would not let us refuse his generous offer, and we ended up conversing with this kind couple for three hours before we had to catch a bus to the airport. This experience, while seemingly minimal, is to me what traveling should be about. You can see historical sites and landmarks, and learn about history, but by far the best memories are formed as a result of the people we met.

What the French do with their free time

First things first: I'm going to Dublin tomorrow, along with Jonah and a couple friends. It should be an interesting little adventure getting there, as Ryanair flies out of an extremely inconvenient airport. Basically, we have to catch the first metro train of the day, which gets to our stop at 5:32 am, and take it to a bus/train station about 40 minutes away. We then have to take the first shuttle bus of the day to the airport, which should take a little over an hour. Kind of annoying, but as long as we make it to Dublin, it'll be a more than tolerable adventure.

I went to the Arc de Triomphe and the associated Champs Elysees a few days ago. Much more impressive than I thought it would be. Although it appears to just be a large arch-like structure, its intricate carvings and inscriptions make it much more interesting than it appears on postcards. Still, it's kind of stupid that Napoleon had it built for his troops to walk through upon their return to Paris from war. But hey, I guess when you work five hour days, four days a week, you have a lot of free time on your hands to build random structures.

The coolest part about the Arc is it's location: it's on its own little island in the middle of a busy rotary. It marks the end of the famous section of the Champs Elysees (which, although is just shopping and dining, for the most part, is quite beautiful), and provides a view of another, more industrialized area of Paris. Also, the Arc can be climbed. We didn't climb to the top for the 10 euro fee, but we later realized that it's free for students.

I need to make dinner, and I really don't feel like typing right now. Dublin reports to come this weekend.

Encounters with the French police (aka the cheese-eating surrender monkeys)

Wow. Great night tonight. After a couple of days of going to bars, cafes, creperies, supermarkets, and bakeries, I've definitely started to feel like I'm becoming a part of the Parisian society. I've basically been speaking exclusively French when out of my apartment, and even the locals seem to appreciate my efforts and often mistake me for a Parisian. Yesterday, an middle-aged woman asked me for directions on the Metro, and later that day an elderly man asked me if there was a "marriage" going on at a cathedral that Jonah and I were photographing. It's really a great confidence booster.

Tonight, though, I definitely had my most interesting encounter with the French. So the way the Metro works here, it's really easy to pass through the entry turnstiles without paying (the person in front of you go, and you sneakily get in behind them). It's a common practice for the Frenchies, so I've been doing the same since I haven't gotten my monthly Metro pass yet. I've never had a problem with it... until tonight. To make a long story short, we took a slightly different Metro line tonight which required you to use your ticket to get out of the Metro, which I obviously didn't have. So I couldn't get out, and there happened to be four French Metro Police guys on the exit side (basically the Gestapo). One of them came over to the exit gate to let me through, and I though I was going to be fine, until he started questioning me. In French. So we ended up having about a three minute conversation in French in which he asked me for my passport, where I was from, what I was doing here, who I was with, where I was studying, and he even asked me for a proof of residence. I didn't have either my passport or proof of residence on me, so I gave him my Mass ID, which he was not amused by. I think he bought my story of how I "lost" my ticket on the Metro, and he eventually paused, which gave me the opportunity to ask him is "everything was good". He said that no, everything wasn't good. So in return, I said, "But is everything good now?" At this point, I'm sure he had had enough of my antics, and, seeing that I wasn't intimidated by the surrender-prone French police force, he let me go. Not a bad beginning to my night.

So, Jonah, Derek, Grace, and I made our way through the Latin quarter in the 5th in search of a bar. Nearly everything is closed on Sundays here. Fortunately, we were able to find this local bar place with live music that was absolutely phenomenal. The drinks were reasonably priced as well. In addition to the fantastic music and company, the overall experience of feeling like a pure local was awesome. It's getting really late now, but I do just want to mention that I went into the Notre Damn cathedral today (Sunday) during mass. Quite the experience.

First two days in Paris

With all the excitement of my first two days here, it's been tough to find time to write.

On day one, after arriving at my apartment and taking a brief nap, Jonah and I decided to take advantage of the emerging sun and walk north towards the Pantheon and our school, La Sorbonne. The Pantheon, although rarely mentioned in guidebooks or highlights of Paris, was quite impressive. It was originally built as a cathedral, and is now an off the beaten path tourist attraction. The interior is breathtaking, with its neoclassical architecture, vibrant paintings, and ridiculously high, domed ceilings. Perhaps more interesting, however, was the crypt, the resting place of many famous Frenchmen. Notable burials included Voltaire, Russeau, Alexandre Dumas (author of the Three Musketeers), and Victor Hugo.My pictures really don't do this place justice... so check out the Wikipedia page (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panth%C3%A9on,_Paris).

After our visit to the Pantheon, we made our way over to La Place de la Sorbonne to check out our surrogate UW-Madison for the next four months. The school itself looked pretty cool, and the surrounding area of the Latin Quarter was even cooler, with fountains, cafes and shops, and a view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Not too far away was the Luxembourg Gardens, which after seeing in 40 degree weather, I can only imagine its beauty and popularity in the spring. The "Garden" is really more of a park, with sprawling greens, a large fountain in the middle, and is surrounded by a tall black fence with gilded pointed tips.

Our outing concluded with a stop at a crepe stand, where Jonah and I each got a freshly made crepe with nutella. But ok, that's enough play-by-play for now.

Although at this point I had only been in Paris for roughly six hours, it quickly became clear just how different life here is from life in America. On the most superficial level, it is unbelievable how well dressed Parisians are. Even the kids I've seen are more well-dressed than the majority of people in the states. All the more impressive is how Parisians compose their outfits. It's rarely anything too fancy, but a nice coat, dark jeans, and a pair of leather shoes or boots is standard. Also, it's pretty much a prerequisite to wear a scarf if you want to live in Paris.

The biggest surprise thus far has been the attitude of Parisians towards Americans. Contrary to what the general notion is in America, I've found that Parisians are very nice when interacting with Americans, although the niceness is typically accompanied by a slight smirk when they detect that our French is mediocre at best. They seem to find young Americans very entertaining, and appear to be semi-genuinely interested in our lives. The middle-aged Frenchies, who are clearly very experienced in dealing with Americans, seem to love to entertain young, intoxicated Americans. And if you use a little French and be polite, it really does go a long way. With that being said, I've definitely experienced the quintessential anti-American attitude. At the cafe we went to yesterday for lunch, our interaction with the waiter was going well, and we were both using French for the majority of the meal. But when we were ready for the check, a different waiter came over to our table and said something in French, to which I responded, "Oui". He apparently had asked if we wanted anything else, but needless to say I didn't catch that. After that, he sarcastically asked us if we spoke English. Whatever...

Perhaps my favorite time of day, from my experience over the past two days, is the time period when the Frenchies are just getting out of work and on their way home... so like 4:00 pm. The middle/older-aged men are particularly interesting, and can always be seen holding a fresh baguette. When you purchase a baguette from a bakery here, you don't get a bag, and usually you don't get any real wrapping for it. They just give you a little napkin to hold it, which is pretty cool, and definitely something you don't see in America. But anyways, it's a standard sight to see very well put together men in their overcoats carrying fresh food home on. Alright, enough rambling for now. Hopefully I'll be able to reflect a little bit more tomorrow.

(doin' work)

The Lufthansa Experience

Before I begin writing about Paris, I feel it is extremely necessary to share a piece I wrote while on board my flight From Boston to Frankfurt.


No need for sleeping pills on this flight. The Germans have thus far proven to be extremely hospitable, as they provide passengers with an endless supply of beer, liquor, and red or white wine. I have experiences many different things in my many years of traveling, but this flight has been a completely revolutionary experience for me. The on-flight meal was decent, but extremely impressive for air travel standards. Tonight's meal consisted of large penne with cheese and sundried tomato (an interesting combination) for the main dish, and was accompanied by a small mescaline green and baby spinach salad with two small shrimp on top, (an interesting touch; perhaps a regularity in Germany?), a slightly dry roll, a piece of cheddar cheese (not made in Wisconsin, unfortunately), and a chocolate mouse with a large strawberry and shaved white chocolate on top for desert. The television screen indicates that it is 61 Fahrenheit outside right now at our cruising altitude. I don't think anyone is planning on going outside, but that's good to know... I guess.

Tee seats in the "economy" section are fairly standard. Like a European=made car, they are firm and provide good support to most areas of the back. They also have a nice little neck support thingy. A nice dtail is the cup holder that is located on the back of the seat in front of me, next to the TV screen at the top of the seat. You don't typically see that on airplanes (or at least I don't). Point for Lufthansa. I just got up to go to the bathroom, only to discover that the bathrooms, all five of them, were located on the lower level of the plane. Yes, I had to take about eight stairs down to reach the bathroom level, which also included a drinking water station. The Germans are full of surprises.

My only complaint: when the prerecorded voice was giving safety instructions in German, it falt like I was being yelled at. Aside fro that, not a bad start to my journey. Now it's time for drink number three.

More details from days one and two to come!