The House That Imperialism Built

These photos are from our trip to the Victoria & Albert Museum. I think I was more taken with the building itself than the collections, though I should acknowledge that they are spectacular and overwhelming in their breadth and depth. The building screams, "Look at how rich and powerful we are!" and the collections definitely testify to the incredible geographic scope of the empire at its peak. (The mindboggling abundance and variety of ethnic food still found all over London also proves this point.) The British invested well when they built and stocked this fantastically ornate institution of culture. Even the parts that aren't about the British are about the British - about their power. If you're paying even the slightest bit of attention, you can't help but notice it all around you.

It's difficult to fathom such things these days since the types and manifestations of imperialism have changed so that it is not longer as 'in your face' as it once was (but it is no less real). As terrible as it was (and is) in many ways, I LOVE imperial history. I am absolutely fascinated by it. As an American, one can read about it ad naseum and still never quite get it until one visits the seat of power - London - and sees for herself exactly what imperialism built and how Londoners are still reaping the benefits to this day. All those awe-inspiring buildings? statues? monuments? gardens? parks? art collections? Imperialism. That subtle but definite sense of cultural superiority projected to the rest of the world? Well, a legacy thereof. (All of the above and, at least in part, some of the fucked up territorial disputes in Asia and the Middle East... You better believe white folks had a hand in that shit!)

All that being said, London may well be the greatest city on earth, and I love the British. I have long been an ardent Anglophile. (I should warn you though, Britons: the Dutch are gaining ground in my heart! I do secretly wish that I were Dutch... they're so tall and liberal and cool!).

Kodachrome

These are all from our first day in London. You can probably tell I am a bit bored. In fact, I am irritated because I cannot buy my MacBook until Thursday now so that I work the credit card system to the max. That'll give me a month to pay it off since Wednesday is my next payment date - glad I checked or I'd have been fucked. Anyway, I'm consoling myself with happy pictures (and emails to Lady).

A truly happy moment - my long-awaited reunion with Tesco. And, God, was it good. I didn't have any Biopot because I couldn't bear the thought of wasting it... I had no means of refrigeration and did not feel brave enough to try to consume so much yoghurt at once. That + ale = disastrous, methinks.
Around Piccadilly Circus, I think... if that's where we are, Eros is at my back.
The Royal Naval College in Greenwich. Greenwich in general was either stunning and imperial or quaint and super cute. And I got to see the Harrison chronometers at the Royal Observatory, which was bad-ass. They're a throwback to my Smithsonian days with Carlene, and Rob can attest to how excited I was to see them in person... 'cause I'm a dork. But they're SO cool and literally changed the course of navigation - pun intended - and the British Empire.
Looking down the hill from the Royal Observatory - in the foreground (well, after all the damn foliage I couldn't shoot around) you have the National Maritime Museum. You can sort of see the Royal Naval College behind that, and then the Thames, and then London!
Sally on the Prime Meridian. Touristy but incredible, really.
Cutty Sark, round two! I think cutters are gorgeous, and it was cute to catch this grandfather/grandson duo on the deck. Plus, the whole time we were milling around the ship and soaking in Greenwich, I couldn't stop smiling and laughing to myself about finally seeing this ship that Kim and I joked about for sooo long... On our trip to London in 2004 (fucking LSAT!), I must have mentioned something about wanting to see this ship, so every single ship we saw on the Thames prompted her to ask me if that was the Cutty Sark. It never was, and we were never even near Greenwich, but my irritation at her intentional negligence of the details I repeatedly provided her and just reality in general - for her own amusement, of course (classic Kim) - turned into a hilarious running inside joke... (Well, after I got over wanting to strangle her and gave in to the humor of it all - she loves to piss me off and then make me laugh.) Imagine that. Kim and I have inside jokes that are funny to no one else. Huh.
Rob outside our first pub in London. This should have gone with the fish and chips picture I posted long ago. I had been jonesin' for real fish and chips for ages in anticipation of the trip, and I was not disappointed! Getting a fresh Fuller's wasn't half bad either. It was my first meal post-airplane, and my God, it was ecstasy in my mouth.

Buschfunk...and other musings on Berlin

Ah, the wacky, the wild, the wonderful world that is Berlin.

The city where you walk around a corner near a giant phallic column in the center of a park (think Washington Monument, but nothing near it to distract from the view) and discover some shirtless men...thinking "I have found the mother lode!". Get a little closer and you realize they're not shirtless...they're naked. Get a little closer still and you realize...

...they're all on Medicare (or Deutschebundesaltegesundcare, whatever they call it here). One thing Germans ain't is shy about their bodies, regardless of what they look like. In a way I admire it, but only in principle. Not to look at. Ew.

Germans are also not shy about sex. In the past two days I have seen a common billboard where a guy's towel is draped over his considerable...er...manhood; a gay magazine which, among other things, has ads for a dance night called "Conny's Buschfunk", an ad of indeterminate origin where a guy is smelling his own socks, and a "Lateinisch" gentleman advertising his 29cm penis (that's about 12 inches for the metrically challenged), with picture to prove it. Oh, and in case there was any doubt, there most certainly is German porn on the telly after midnight. However, it's not regular porn, but rather vampire porn. After these ladies fuck their gentleman callers, they drink their blood. I have a hard time believing anyone gets off to this alleged porn...or if they do, they must be very careful to finish before the people on TV do.

No David Hasselhoff sightings yet (thank god...maybe the rage is finally over), but I have done a whole lot in three days. Today I saw the Pergamon, which is HUGE and rather distressing when you consider that the Germans just up and took entire temples and shipped them off to the Kaiser...I'm sure they looked much better in their own natural setting. Cool to see, though.

Yesterday was a good day...I started at the East Side Gallery, which is a large section of the Berlin Wall that is still intact and covered with artistic graffiti, and took a ton of good pictures there. Over to Kurfürstendamm, which is kind of the Champs-Elysees of Berlin, i.e. overpriced shopping. I didn't buy anything there, but just wanted to see it. After that I hopped over to the Olympic Stadium of Nazi (and more recently, World Cup) fame, which was pretty cool.

Crap I gotta run, my internet is about to time out...but having a great time! Tomorrow it's off to Dresden for a day trip.

Später!

Advice for budget travel...and random gossip about (the sexlives of) my roommates...

For all of you peanut lovers out there who doubted the necessity of the flip flops or shower shoes for hostel/hotel bathrooms, never doubt again! Those shoes that take up extra room in your bag and don't really serve a purpose other than walking to and from bedroom to bathroom might not only protect your feet from cold tile in the early morning but also save you from an STD!

This morning, while sitting on the can taking that first-thing-in-the-morning piss, I was startled to see a used condom in the shower drain of our one-room bathroom. (I'm sure there's a proper name for this sort of thing, but it's really just a room with a tiled floor, a sink, a toilet and shower in the corner with no curtain, walls, or any other sort of division to separate it from the rest of the room.) Safe sex is one thing; safe sex in the shower is another. Safe sex in the shower of a hostel is another thing all together. BUT safe sex in the shower of a hostel in this weird one-room outfit is perplexing. It's not really possible to have that whole steamy, up-against-the-wall sort of affair in this sort of bathroom. And while I should be (or could be) totally disgusted by this discovery, I'm more or less confused and intrigued by the logistics of it all. What had to happen for the condom to end up in the drain on the floor?

More speculation is entirely possible--who was involved? how many people? which positions? etc.--but I must be getting to bed before it's too late (and I would much rather be sound asleep when the one-night shower sexfest begins).

I never thought I'd say this...

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm quite relieved to be in Poland and out of Prague. After a somewhat horrific ordeal with train tickets, confusing timetables and a few flustered minutes of panic in the impossibly sketchy Prague train station last night, I managed to leave the city at 11.15 this morning. Nevertheless, the Prague train station will stand as a beacon of Eastern European sketchiness in my mind for years and years to come...Something about those nasty orange lights, languages I do not understand and sketchy-ass-looking men drinking beer in public places and shouting at each other just does not sit well with my suburban American (mono-lingual) upbringing.

11.15 depart Prague; 20.15 arrive Warsaw. After 8, no 9 (we were late arriving), hours on a train where I did not say anything to anyone for the entire trip, I finally arrived in Warsaw. And now that I am here, I wish I could stay longer. Or, rather, I wish there weren't so many hostels in these former soviet countries that got such great reviews and had so many ammenities to offer. (I just read the guest book for this hostel and it made me a bit sad I'm not staying here for my entire stay in Warsaw. All the comments made this place sound like a palace hidden away in the heart of Warsaw's vibrant and cosmopolitan metro area.) I also wish I had made it to Krakow, but I think that might have to wait until I have a month (or several weeks) to dedicate to Poland and a bicycle by which to travel the countryside because it looked gorgeous today, and I hear it's a cycler's paradise because it's flat as a pancake.

Everytime I imagine myself having an early night--early to bed and early to rise--I end up staying up later than I planned (and not actually accomplishing what I intended to accomplish). Tonight, I suppose it was the fault of my delayed train, initial wrong turn outside the station and and decision to walk after not being able to make any sense out of the train/tram schedule. I didn't arrive at the hostel (which merits a separate post and proper review at a later date) until 10ish, then I took a few minutes to "settle in" before heading to the kitchen to make a meal with the precious few ingredients in my possession. It turns out, I managed to make a wicked spaghetti with sundried tomato, basil and cheese alfredo-type sauce using a kettle, a ceramic bowl, a small glass plate, some pasta, some cheese spread and some salt, but by the time I sat down to upload photos and start journaling, it was already 23.45 and now it is well past my bedtime.

I might be lame by staying in and going to bed so early on a Friday night, but I haven't run since Wednesday and after the "stress" of last night's travel debacle, desperately need to get out and run around without any baggage whatsoever. (Plus, travel life is totally different from normal life--it doesn't pay heed to weekends vs. weekdays. A day is a day to be enjoyed to its utmost potential--even if that does mean sitting in the [rather luxurious] hostel lounge typing travel notes on a computer while sipping herbal tea and watching an American made-for-TV movie poorly dubbed into Polish.)

NB: Lady is not posting because she is bored. She is posting because she has been lucky with internet access lately. Free wireless is quickly becoming a pre-requisite for making a reservation somewhere.

Peanutographer - Round 2

More from Amsterdam... and again, Blogger is cock-blocking me on the number of photos I can upload before it goes batshit crazy at me...

Sally with her Struis bier at the Brouwerij 't IJ!
Sally outside the Rijksmuseum.
Sally outside the van Gogh... wish I had some from inside, but no cameras were allowed. I'm going to refer back to my art history survey course from Edinburgh and tell you that the flatulence of museumgoers is more damaging than light!!!
Sally and Rob, Grolsch and vlaamse frites in hand! (Anyone noticing a pattern of what is in Sally's hands?)
Random canal shot - sort of the quintessential Amsterdam shot the tourist looks for before moving on to the 'real' city, having accomplished her mission...

Peanutographer - Round 1

It looks like for the time being I am the official peanut photgrapher, which I have shortened to peanutographer for my own convenience/amusement. Round 1 of pictures for today. For some reason Blogger is not letting me upload any more to this particular post, so I will follow with a second post and more pictures momentarily. All of these are in Amsterdam!

Rob looking studly and pensive (somewhat contradictory, I know) with his falafel.
Robbiebug outside the van Gogh, poster in hand!

Sally drinking Grolsch from the hotel vending machine in the dumpy hotel - self-portrait.
Rob wearing his new hat and drinking a Grolsch Herfst Bok during Cheese & Sausage Fest 2006. (There were also peanuts involved.) Hooray for Albert Heijn!

Rather self-explanatory, but for the record, Sally with her bike in Amsterdam.
I've never seen anything quite like this. A rather artsy looking sign saying "Hey - your dog can shit here!" in Amsterdam. Leave it to the Dutch. (Or perhaps I am mistaken and this is a "no shit" sign - but where is the slash mark?)

Lady, I have figured out a genius plan to post photos of you - you will like it if I am successful. It may have to wait until the arrival of the MacBook, but I'm determined...

German rantings

First of all, Bank of America can eat my ass. Immediately if possible.

Even though I wrote them and told them I would be traveling, the motherfuckers STILL suspended my card for "suspicious activity" yesterday because I used the ATM in Denmark and in Sweden. Well wake up and smell the coffee, when you go to a new country you have to get their money or you can't buy stuff, and if you don't buy stuff they won't like you as much. So after 5 phone calls, 7 security questions, and at least 25 minutes at international long distance rates, I managed to get it restored. I pray to the Cingular god to be merciful, dumbass that I am I didn't check the roaming rates, not that I very well could have done that on a pay phone.

I am so switching banks when I get home.

OK, new rant, German keyboards are even worse than their Danish cousins. My international "Where's Waldo?" game of keyboard punctuation takes a new and interesting turn as the "@" has taken a new hiding place on the "Q" key, which requires usage of that secret extra control key I discovered in Denmark. What's worse, they have compressed the keys to make room for meaningless (to me) extras such as ö, ä, ü and ß (ah, the fabled ess-tsett). As if that were the end of it. No, my friends, they have actually switched the Y and Z keys which has resulted in at least one retyping of every word containing a Y or a Z. (Actually, I think that one's just a ploy by easyinternetcafe.com to make me type slower - thus they get more €€€.)

Needless to say, I've had a bit of a frustrating day. Ein großes Bier, bitte!

I'm quite lucky the German Historical Museum accepts credit cards, since I was near there, and since the U-Bahn does not (well, they do, but only those elusive credit cards requiring PINs, which must exist only in Euroland), so I was pretty much stuck walking everywhere. I'm even luckier it was worth the 4 hours I spent in there...it was a literal walk through time from Roman/Celtic ages to the present; by the time I got to World War I (which in this version, the Germans are mostly blameless for...oddly enough they put most of the blame on Austria-Hungary's disintegration, which conveniently leaves them off the hook) I had forgotten that other stuff was in the same day, let alone the same museum. They did a very long, analytical (god damn that misplaced "y") piece on Hitler and WWII, which had a lot of good artifacts/visuals - no surprise - and this time did not render them blameless. Actually it was kind of like reading a very long, visual apology. The one piece missing, which I was really sorry to not have, was a bit on the Nürnberg Trials since my grandfather was one of the key prosecutors and I was hoping for a surprise picture! Oh well, no such luck. Actually, unless I missed it somehow, nothing at all on what happened to all the top Nazis save Hitler.

I can now say I have tried currywurst, which is delicious, and since I have not been on my feet for the first time in about 7 hours, I'm in a bit of a better mood as well. On to that Bier I think...

Also, I must pee, as I have not done so (for dual lack of water to drink and opportunity to go) since I left the hotel room this morning. Whoa, thinking about it is making it much worse...

Tschüß, peanuts!

Golden Pheasants in North Carolina!

OMG - I just looked up the list of participating brewers at the upcoming World Beer Festival in Durham that Willow and I will be attending, and the list includes Zlaty Bazant from Slovakia! How cool and timely! Rob had this at a cafe in Bratislava while Lady and I were sippin' our Bailey's, but we tasted it, too... (And as it turns out, the name translates to Golden Pheasant.) I'm looking forward to having a little more of that, as well as sampling every single one of the remaining 149 attending breweries' offerings... and I've got to figure out a way not to have to drive so that I can relive my world (okay, fine -European) travels through all of these beers. There are loads of groups coming from Scotland, England, and Germany, so this is going to be killer.

Too bad they aren't going to have Gosser and Kosovice! (And dammit I wish I had umlauts and squiggly c's and accents on here!)

Rain, hippies, and eskimo panties

My my what an interesting couple of days it has been! I hardly know where to start.

I have been so disappointingly sporadic in my postings to date that I feel like I should completely start over from day one (and in fact have seriously considered it). I even thought about getting one of those moleskin writing books but haven't looked too hard and it's pretty much too late now to start, considering how slow a business writing by hand is. Plus let's face it, even with all the time in the world I haven't the patience nor the legible handwriting to make that a worthwhile undertaking.

OK, enough bellyaching about my laziness, on to the good stuff!'

Copenhagen (or Købnhavn, as they spell it) has been a great time. Although I was very bummed to lose Whitney to the American world of 10-vacation-days-a-year-madness (they really need to fix that in the US!), and was kind of blah all day Sunday as a result, I did manage to get off my ass and have a somewhat interesting day in Amsterdam. I trammed it up to Centraal Station with my bags, dropped them off at the lockers and trammed back (les woots for 60 minute expirations!). From there I walked up to the Carousel Cafe, got my read on and had yet ANOTHER crepe (bacon, not ham, for those keeping track. so nyah). After that I hopped on my bike and tried...and tried...and tried to find the Jordaan. Well turns out it's not terribly different from the rest of the city except that, kind of like Greenwich Village in New York or Fairlie Poplar in downtown Atlanta, the street grid is set at a weird angle so it's a bit confusing. To make it more confusing, although Amsterdam puts the neighborhood name on its street signs, apparently Jordaan still counts as "Centrum" so I just had to kind of feel my way out. It was cute but nothing to write home about...I liked our area just as much. That said, I love Amsterdam and the Dutch more than ever (isn't that veeeeeird?). There's just something so neat and orderly about that part of the world, like there are never any unpleasant surprises. I don't imagine there have been too many since the Nazis left and the dams stopped flooding. Oh, and I love the Dutch language...it looks like German, reads like English and sounds like Arabic. Good show, Dutchies!

I got to Schiphol Airport waaay too early and ended up sitting at the gate for about two hours (considering our Gatwick nightmares the previous Sunday, I was not in the mood to take chances), but the flight was fine - and short - and I was in Købnhavn in no time. (I'm going to spell it that way while I can...the keyboard's making it very easy...and difficult to find the regular keys!) The train into town takes 15 minutes and the train station downtown was an easy 6 block walk to my hotel.

Now comes the fun part...well, not for me. It may not be widely known as I've been a bit reluctant to admit it publicly, but I actually have been staying at a gay guest house in their "dorm room". It was half the price of most other places, looked very nice and great location. So I figured what the hell. And for the most part, there was no problem at all...except for the first night.

Any lingering love from Budapest I had for the Hungarian people is more than gone after the first night...there was a group of about 10 of them...nine gay men, one lesbian (although I had to look real hard...wasn't too sure at first)...and they were all in the "dorm" area which was really just the loft/attic floor of the building. I was assured that this was their last night and I now understand why I got the forewarning...they were annoying, loud, unfriendly and completely inconsiderate, to the point I am thrilled to have my own room and bath in Berlin. The first night was hell...but it got better. Thank god, the rest of the time I have been on my own in the attic, which has been quite nice despite the implied lack of privacy. And at $30 a night, even worth the first night of hell, in retrospect. But I did take away one learning point...despite my constant "grass is greener" attitude, gay men really are the same everywhere. They just lisp and act judgmental in different languages is all.

Købnhavn is a very walkable city and despite our great experience biking in Amsterdam I decided to just hoof it. My hotel was about a 5 minute walk from the Strøget, which is the pedestrian-only main street of Købnhavn. Lots of shopping (good lord, do these Europeans love them some shoes!!!), sidewalk cafes, and just good people-watching as well. The Danish, like most other Europeans I have met, are just cute as a button and have that Nordic look to them which makes them just a little bit cuter. Even the ugly ones are kind of cute...it's hard to explain, I guess. Things are extremely expensive here - I've been paying the equivalent of $4 for espresso, $10-15 for even the cheap meals (which incidentally, has been all of them so far), and a subway ride, much like the London Underground, is 3 bucks. So walking and reading has suited me just fine.

There aren't a shit ton of must-see attractions in Købnhavn but it is a cool place to just be. I did do some walking around the "sights", as it were - the Royal Palace, a really cool fortress inside a moat, the National Museum (which was free but a little chaotic...I think they just kind of threw it together in a few weeks. The highlight was the Peoples of the World exhibit where they actually had...drum roll...a pair of animal skin Eskimo panties! And you better believe I took a picture of those, which I will gleefully post as soon as I can.).

Yesterday I took the train to Malmö, Sweden, mostly just to say I'd been to Sweden. It's pretty much the same as Denmark, the language is very similar (at least in print), the architecture isn't terribly different, and they have the same friggin' currency, although it's worth just slightly less than the Danish crown, it's called the same and the most notable aspect of it was that it fucked up my conversion system and I had to re-learn it when I got back. I walked around for about 3 hours and took the train back home.

Last night, out of pure curiosity and boredom, I decided to check out the Tuesday drag show at a bar called "Boiz" (don't even GET me started...it really chaps my ass when regular words get gay spellings) It was not at all what I was expecting - it was two 60-odd year old men dressed up like fancy ladies, singing what I can only imagine are Danish folk songs accompanied by a piano player that looked quite a bit like Danish Liberace. Oy vey. In a weird, morbid way it was entertaining. OK, here comes the tawdry part...(oh shut up, you knew there would be one!)

Yep, I met someone. I too speak the international language of horny gay man!

Actually it wasn't like that at all. His name was Jarkko and he is here temporarily with his company from Helsinki, Finland. I guess he saw the confused look on my face and realized that we two were the only ones in there that didn't understand Danish folk music, and somehow that started a conversation. He spoke perfect English in the cutest little British accent ever and is soooo my type, it makes me mad that he doesn't live in Atlanta. We talked for hours over beers, and yes, I went back to his place, and yes Kimmie, we did it "in da butt" (might as well stave off the questions ahead of time) and I ended up staying the night at his place. I really am infatuated with him right now, even though there's absolutely no reason to believe I will ever see him again...bah. Oh well, great memories forever. Seriously...so cute I was wondering what he saw in me. Although he told me it was the curly hair that caught his eye, I guess that isn't too common in Finland...and now I know the key to my sexuality is my curly hair! Les woots!

Anyway, enough of the sap...I like the guy a lot but let's move on. He got my email, let's see if he ever uses it. If so, I guess I'll at least have someone to visit (and a free place to stay) in Finland, if ever the opportunity arises.

Today has been nothing but rain, rain, rain...I hoofed it over to Christiania, which is this famous hippie commune where they allow drugs and basically self-govern (with the hesitant permission of the Danish government). Totally not worth getting soaked for...it looked like the slums of Kinshasa except everyone was white. I didn't think it was possible to have Danish roughnecks, but boy was I wrong...you'd think since the government got off their ass and they can smoke whatever they want they'd be a little more "peace, love and harmony", but I guess not. Never seen so many pit bulls in my life. Enh, whatever. I can say I've been now, at least...how many of YOU have been to a hippie commune? Uh huh, that's what I thought.

OK, I have talked my own ear off, and I only have 8 minutes to catch up on email and other miscellanies, so I best scoot! Auf Berlin gehe ich jetzt...wünsch mir Glück! (that's German for "I'm going to Berlin next...wish me luck!)

Peanut one, over and out!

Mas Fotografias!

As promised here are a few more pictures... again, I wish I could show you some of the super cute ones with all three of us from Budapest, but SOMEBODY doesn't wanna be on the internet, and I promised to respect that (though not to refrain from complaining about it!).

This picture is a bit out of sequence, as Blogger was being a bugger with this particular one. It is the gate at the Palace in Buda, and it should fall right before the Chain Bridge pix below... We took the funicular railway to get up the giant hill on the Buda side, and this is what we saw just outside the little train station, though this shot was taken just as we were about to head down, having had several rounds of espresso and a salami pizza (and listening to some really bad Celine Dion covers) - woot!

This is the Great Market Hall in Budapest. It was built in 1896 (I think) for the city's millenium celebration. Now, it houses loads of fresh food vendors on the main floor, as well as touristy-stuff vendors on the upper level and a modern supermarket in the basement where Rob and I had a very good time. (And I got the paprika peanuts that Lady went nuts for... har har.)
This is the Hungarian Parliament building, which is spectacular in the daytime and at night... it was even more spectacular (in the literal sense) that day, as there were protesters everywhere. You may be able to see their heads in the bottom of this photo, though I actually tried to cut them out and just get the building. (Don't worry, I documented the people as well...)
This is Chain Bridge, which crosses the Danube and is probably the prettiest bridge of all the ones in town. I have about six million pictures of it, day and night. We walked across it from Pest to Buda and back again, and it offered some incredible photographic opportunities of both the city and itself.
Chain Bridge...again...
Bratislava's Old Town. Lady and I ran through here, and then the three of us walked back down through it for dinner and drinks later in the evening.
Some random pretty building in Bratislava - maybe the National Theatre?

Promise to post some more tomorrow... maybe more from London if you want them, or maybe just Amsterdam, or maybe both... depends on how much time I have. Rob has some of the funniest ones from Budapest, and I hope he will post them when he gets a chance. Many are from the night I was too drunk to play photographer (and don't remember much of, either), and the ones I do have from that night all have you-know-who in them, so... you're outta luck 'til then.

Panties on a Wheel!!!

Rob and Lady, this one's for you! Apparently panties on a wheel do exist, though I can now say with certainty that I had no idea what Rob was talking about mainly because I have never before seen this in my life. I knew I'd learn something in Amsterdam...
I did not bother to look at the sizes on them, so I cannot tell you whether these in particular piss me off...

Time is on my side...

I've been awake for a very long time now after getting only about three hours of sleep. I left the "hotel" at about 4:15 this morning to walk myself to Amsterdam Centraal to catch the 5:35 train to catch my 7:00 flight from AMS to LGW. Now, I'm sitting on an expensive pay internet computer in Gatwick awaiting my 1:00 flight to Raleigh. I've been here since 7:00 GMT and it's now only 9:10. I've already managed to finish up Bratislava in my journal (lots of catching up to do even though I've been chipping away for quite some time already) and did a little candy shopping for a certain someone. Successful, btw.

I am sooooo reinvigorated about my life and the world in general right now. I'm exhausted, but I can't wait to do this again. It's almost as if I've been dreaming for the last nine days, or as if my normal life is a dream and I've just woken up... the trip far surpassed my expectations in every way possible, and though I have no idea how much I spent, I would do it over again and spend triple if I had to. I feel so sorry for people who aren't open to the possibility of travel - think of what they're missing! I literally cannot imagine my life without it, though I suppose I don't have to - all I really need to do is look at a lot of the people I went to high school with... Not having the opportunity to travel is one thing, but just choosing not to - choosing to do the same thing every year appalls me. I'll be the first to admit that I love routine and am prone to falling into one myself, but I also believe in forcing oneself to be uncomfortable - to step outside one's normal world - to shake things up a little. I've done many things in my life that I was terrified of doing, and I've never regretted just taking the bull by the horns and doing it. If nothing else, you can learn so much about yourself from doing such things. People, get out there and travel! You've no idea what you're missing.

I'm trying to find things to be excited about for when I get home so that I don't fall into a post-trip funk. I mean, I can't drink in the street or at lunch, and the cafe scene at home (meaning in the US) is either non-existant or lame and fake. And, ummm, I actually have to work. Not cool. But I'm excited about trivia and shooting pool/playing poker with Willow and watching movies and goofing off with Kim. I'll be thrilled to get back to my washing machine and my bed and my own bathroom. I don't really want to have to drive, but we all know that I really love to drive, so I'll adjust to that pretty quickly...

But back to the trip... The van Gogh was great, but I don't recommend going to the Rijksmuseum until the renovations are complete. It's ten Euro for a very, very small museum, and most of that is just old-ass Dutch paintings. I mean, some of it was cool, but there's only so much Vermeer and Rembrandt that I can take before I go into museum fog and lose interest. Don't get me wrong - I'm glad I went, but the van Gogh is also under renovation right now and still fucking blew it out of the water.

Amsterdam has the best falafel on the planet, and I think I ate it every day I was there at some point or another. I will totally miss that as well... I mean, yes, we have falafel, but we don't come anywhere close to the number of toppings you can add on top of it. My god.

I've been promising pictures, and I'm still promising them... probably more early this week. I'm thinking of setting up an account somewhere to manage them, but I'll post that for you if I do. Hopefully Rob and Lady will post some soon, too. (I can't believe you won't let me put you on here, Ladypants - you are so cute!)

Okay, long post that probably isn't so interesting. Let me run, kids. See you soon! I'll be on your side of the pond in only a few hours.

Mellow Yellow

Rob and I are stoned in Amsterdam after a day of van Gogh, bicycles, and beer - les woots! Le woots!

Rob tells me I must ask, what if Lady had a website called www.forlady.com? Slovakia would owe her a great debt in terms of public hygiene. (I just had to retype last word like fifteen times before I got it right... Rob is laughing over my shoulder 'cuz I'm a little fucked up... but not bad.)

We miss Lady McPants and she reports indirectly that she misses us, too. She ought to get herself some paprika peanuts and a chocolate croissant and an Eastern bloc train and she'll be aiight.

(Rob wants to add lots of things that make no sense... like www.wootwoot.com... and it's here that I sign my ass off... and he's had almost a whole j to himself... need I say more? Sticky shit.)

Love all you guys...seriously.

No, seriously - I love you.

P.S.

Can I just tell you that life without Carmex blows? It does. Hard. And let me tell you why I know this...

Leaving Raleigh, the AA desk agent tells me that chapstick IS allowed in your carry on baggage. Thank god. Okay, Gatwick to Budapest, it ISN'T, but I don't know that until my checked baggage is already long gone, so I have a dilemma - I can either hide the Carmex in my underwear, or I can surrender it to the rubbish bin in the name of antiterrorism measures. Well, let me tell you - NOT an easy choice. I actually had it in my underwear for a while, but the lines were so long that I had a while to contemplate the possible outcomes of my choice... and then I really lost my nerve when I saw that the Brits pat down EVERYBODY. I just knew the security lady would be able to feel it or I would just LOOK guilty, and then I would miss my flight to Hungary and Lady b/c I didn't want fucking chapped lips and tried to smuggle my Carmex... So I had to discreetly dig the Carmex out of my underwear in the line with about ten zillion British people. Not sure how discreet I was able to make it, but at that point I was pissed and didn't care.

So word to wise - check the rules!

Revolutions don't have commercials!!!

This has been a very interesting last couple of days! So interesting (and busy, in fact) that we have not had an opportunity until now to seek out internet and write about our experiences. So pardon us, fellow peanut lovers, if the details of Sunday/Monday are a wee bit fuzzy.

Sunday was basically a breakfast of British biscuits/cookies in the hotel room, which I am SO SICK OF despite their yummy goodness, and an early start to the train station to catch our train to Gatwick. While Whitney was in the shower I double-checked the itinerary and we actually were scheduled to fly out an our earlier than we were thinking, for some reason, and it's a damn good thing I noticed, too, because it took us almost a full hour just to check in, then another half hour or so to get through security - all the while behind this cute but ANNOYING Australian couple that kept punching and making out with each other. It was just sick. Normally I pride myself on being pretty worldly, but I have decided that being a PDA prude is just fine by me.

Hungary is a quite interesting place. First off, I don't really know what I expected the people to be like - I suppose something akin to Turkish people, large hairy men with bristly mustaches that smell like ethnic food (sounds awful, doesn't it?). Well, it's not like that at all! Hungary is actually full of attractive people, and they look very standard-issue European - generally slim, tight logo-less t-shirts, jeans (why do all European guys have nice asses), Euroshoes, and that general ethnic look that makes it hard to pinpoint a particular country of origin. Lots of blonds, especially the women!

Our flat in Budapest was just awesome - it looked like Ikea threw up in there, and I forget that's really more of a European look than an American college look, at least in terms of origin. We had a kitchenette, a nice TV with cable, and two big windows that looked out onto a courtyard of what looked (at first glance, at least) like a 19th century palace. Not the case, I'm afraid, but very quaint just the same. And cheap as all get out! We were right on this adorable little square with a cafe that had the world's best espresso and some pretty cheap kick-ass beer too. And a really cute waiter who was like 22 and one old assy one who was probably his father. Needless to say we liked the young cute one better!

Budapest, look out - you have not been discovered by Americans yet, but with the new Delta service that is sure to change soon. Definitely a fun city - kind of spread out (hard to walk around too far) - the metro has scary-fast escalators and even scarier po-po who inspect your ticket (and you better have one - no turnstiles!). I would not want to be on the bad side of that one Hungarian lady...her forearms were as thick as a baby's head.

Also, on a side note, we were witness to a quasi-revolution as it came out that the Prime Minister of Hungary lied to get elected and they are trying to have him recalled. Huge protests our first night which actually got violent (they stormed the TV station and burned some cars...tear gas ensued...thankfully we missed that) and then some general stand-in protesting after that which felt half like a Nazi rally (angry Hungarians have REALLY scary voices) and half like Woodstock without the drugs - some folk music kumbaya stuff. Whichever ends up being true, it was quite an experience nonetheless.

Train to Bratislava yesterday which despite severe language barriers (don't GET me started on Magyar) was a fun adventure, and most of the trip we ended up having our own cabin which was fun bonding times. Lots of silly self-pictures forecoming!

Bratislava was a cool town as well - very undiscovered by the West and very well preserved - think of the things Disney tries to recreate and you've pretty much got it. There's a huge old-town with a lot of outdoor dining, CHEAP ass beer (0,5 L was about a dollar...pardon the European notation, I just like it) and just nice to walk around and take it all in. We ate on this boat on the Danube which had horrible service and more spiders than I have ever seen in my life - they cluster around the lights and catch millions of bugs - smart of them, but very unsettling for me, since it's hard to not be sitting directly under them! And I finally got my shop on, buying some aforementioned Euroshoes ($25, les woots!) and a cute zip up which makes me look very Euro. The huge hair does not, however - I forget that walking around outside constantly is not conducive to long haircuts and my 'fro just keeps on growing! Lots of hat action in Rob's world lately.

Got to Amsterdam today - our hostel is kind of a dump (especially compared to prior digs) but it's basically just a place to crash so it'll be ok. Red light district walk, beer on the canal, best falafel EVER and now here. Perhaps tonight we will partake in the sins that make this city great...only time (and the next blog entry) will tell! Actually, maybe I won't tell...some things are better left undocumented!!!

Long Time No Talk - and lots of Magyar & Slovak in Between

Okay, kids - sorry to leave you hanging...internet access hasn't been as plentiful as I'd hoped, but the amount of alcohol I've had on the cheap has more than compensated... I have been a very intoxicated girl lately, and on that note let me just add that I want to be able to drink on the street wherever I go from now on.

We've just arrived in Amsterdam today from Bratislava, which was way cute despite Rick Steve's not-so-good review of the place. (Lady, we are still getting his faces tattooed on our asses, right?) Beer was wicked cheap, and Lady and I went for a run through the Old Town and along the banks of the Danube between our very interesting train ride from Budapest to Bratislava (a very Communist bloc sort of train, but we had a good time)and our eventual dinner on a boat on the Danube. I can't say enough good things about Budapest and Bratislava - eastern Europe fucking rocks my socks, even if I have to resort to pointing and gesturing when in need of anything other than an espresso, which is apparently universal. (This has been the trip of cafes - tons of leisurely espresso and half litres of beer - and all sooooooo cheap... to return to the Euro in Holland is quite difficult after living like kings - or queens, Lady would correct me - for the last few days.) It felt great to be in a place so beautiful, so polite, and SO cheap - as low on the food chain as I am in terms of salary, I was able to treat my friends as much as I wanted, which makes me happier than I can say. For instance, at our last dinner there, we went to a little Italian trattoria on the Raday Utca, and I bought two bottles of Hungarian red wine for all of us for only 2500 HUF each - something like $12 a piece!!! In a NICE restaurant! (I feel like I'm rambling, but I'm such a state of Europhile euphoria that I can't quite focus... that and I've been drinking loads and not sleeping as much as I probably should.)

Two random things I must report but am too lazy to work into paragraphs:

-Alcohol report: beers I've had since we left: Young's Bitter, Caffrey's, Scrumpy Jack's (cider), Fuller's London Portor, Amstel (not light), Dreher, Arany Azok, Gosser, Edelweiss, and Kosovice. The local liquor in Hungary is called Unicum - Rob and Lady and I tried it on our first night and almost barfed, but we can say we've tried it. And I keep reading that it grows on you...

-Yes, we were there for the protests/riots in Budapest. We even went to the protest the day after the really bad riots just to check it out. It wasn't really that scary and I sense that much of the crowd was spectators anyway...

So it was super super fantastic to meet up with Lady in Budapest. Rob and I have a great time solo (DUH!), but those of you who know Lady's true identity know how much I LOVE her, so it was just the perfect mix of people for a few days. (You should have seen me run across the street like a little kid when Lady walked around the corner to meet us at the cafe on the square across from our flat - I know I looked like an idiot, but I had been drinking so cut me some slack! (Did I tell you I've been drinking?) Plus, in Budapest we got to hang out with Lady's friend Kate and Kate's friend Kata, who fucking rock.

I'm sorry to report that I cannot upload pictures right now - this particular cafe (operated by the same folks as EasyJet, so everything is orange - appropriate, though, for Holland, I guess) has a USB port and advertises uploads/downloads, but I can't get the fucker to recognize my camera. I promise I'll try again somewhere else as soon as I can - the pictures from Budapest (especially on Chain Bridge and from the huge hill in Buda) are really amazing.

This trip is so relaxing and awesome and exactly what I needed, and I'm getting a hell of a lot of passport stamps this time around. These are the best traveling companions I could ask for (well, except maybe in the punctuality category - you know who you are! but I love you anyway), and I'm having so much fun I don't know what to do with myself. America has got to catch onto the sidewalk/square cafe thing... I swear we went to the same place on the square outside our Budapest flat like a million times... (Then again, Europe could use a few customer service lessons from America, but then again their utter disregard for time is charming in its own way... They don't hurry, so I don't feel like I have to either.)

Feel like I'm probably beginning to bore you - especially w/o pictures, so I'll end it here. I hope you're all doing well, and I'll see many of you soon.

What 'chou want? Peanuts! Baby, I got 'em...

Rob and Whitney on the banks of the Thames...
Rob on the Embankment Pier, over the Thames, in front of the Eye, and with a Caffrey's in his hand!

Sally at The Gloucester Arms - first meal of the trip - fish and chips and a Fuller's.

Sally and the Cutty Sark - take that, Kim! It's fo' real!

Okay, I'm running out of internet time since there were complications with the photo upload, so I'm just going to load and label these. Suffice it to say we have walked our legs off but are having a grand time here in London - lots of beer involved, plus Pimm's & lemonade, a new fave, courtesy of Dan...

London can see my peanuts!

Well, here we are on leg #1 of our peanut-stravaganza! London is just as AWESOME a city as it could be, and to top it off, the weather has been absolutely fantastic.

My flight in was pretty uneventful; I had a row to myself (to my pleasant surprise) so I actually managed to get in a few hours' sleep on the plane so I wasn't a (total) zombie on Saturday. Saturday was fun - Whitney and I met up about 10 minutes after I got in, we dropped our bags off at the hotel and went for fish and chips and I had a very cool beer named John Smith. Although it was a little weird having a beer at what to me was 7AM...but redeyes fuck up your sense of time so much it really doesn't matter, right? Plus, beer at any time of the day is cool.

After fish and chip delightfulness we went to Greenwich which was way cool. The weather was absolutely perfect, cute little shops and restaurants everywhere, and a big park which had a gently sloping hill up to Greenwich Observatory, which had a kick ass view, not to mention the Prime Meridian! For those of you not geographically savvy, that is the (imaginary) line dividing the Eastern and Western hemispheres. And of course we got pictures of both of us straddling them! Weird that the British would put that right in the middle of their greatest city, but I guess if you're trying to be that worldly you don't want to define yourself as either East or West, right? Hmm...that's food for thought.

After Greenwich we checked in to the hotel, got our nap and our shower on, and headed out to grab a quick bite of Turkish food (by which I mean lamb donar kebabs for me, and eggplant gross mess for Whitney...I forget the name). Mine was pretty good although way too much food! Whitney's looked gross, but I'll admit, it wasn't half bad. Still not a convert on the whole eggplant thing, though. After food we went to Leicester Square to walk around and get another beer, which we did and drank it on the street outside the pub, which felt very sketchy New Orleans when the other people standing out there left. I felt like I needed a paper bag and a straw! And this drunk ass guy came up to talk to us and we had to pretend we were married, which apparently for us isn't that hard. haha. After walking around - including quite a bit of the way back to the hotel before pooping out and catching the Tube the rest of the way - we lay in our bunk beds (I took the bottom bunk) and made up new songs for the Peanutopolis album. It includes such favorites as Talkin' Bout Peanuts (sung to the tune of My Girl); Condoleezza Spread Us Some Peanut Love (sung to the tune of the Kit Kat Bar song).

GREAT night's sleep for both of us and a full day today as well! Breakfast at the hotel which mostly included Tesco biscuits (cookies, for you Americans) followed by a quick jaunt through the V&A, tube up to Notting Hill for window shopping and sandwiches, and then over to the City to see the Wall (which I had never seen!). We met my friend Dan at Blackfriars and walked via the South Bank to a boat bar on the North Bank (don't ask...stupid crowds) where we proceeded to indulge in a wonderful cocktail called Pimm's and Lemonade...it's kind of like the British sangria. I hope they sell Pimm's in the States! Some slight bathroom tension after that as the rooms cost 50p and the smallest change I had was a £20...eep. But all good...Greek for dinner and back to the hotel!

Time's about to run out so I must go! On to Budapest tomorrow. Peanuts forever!!!!

Peanutopolis, here we come!!!

I am happy to say that 10 minutes before I drive to MARTA to get to the urrport, I am relaxed, packed, (almost) dressed and ready to go! I even had time to burn my newest CDs to iPod - all are great travelin' music (yay B&S!) - and build my Peanutopolis playlist. It's a mere 231 songs, so on shuffle we may never hear the same peanut-tastic song twice!

Wish me good travel luck...if my latest flights are any indication I'll need it!

See you on the other side, fellow peanuts!

Big Old Jet Airliner

Look out, Lady, 'cuz here we come!!!

Today is the day... WOOT!

No more rhymes now, I mean it! Anybody want a peanut?

Thank you Taylor for the inspiring picture!!

Condoleezza says....Only 36 hours to go! A fitting way to start this trip will be with little foil bags of peanuts, courtesy of Condoleezza Airlines. If they are burnt I will be mad!

The Tiny Toiletry Aisle

I finally forced myself to go to Target and pick up some last minute essentials for the trip, and it was SO worth braving the shitty weather simply because of the time I spent on the tiny toiletry aisle! I had so much fun there, which is probably a little sad. They actually had the same stuff I normally use (Dove body wash, Aqua Fresh Extreme Clean, etc), so it shouldn't have been exciting, but apparently miniaturization (is that even a word?) really gets me going... and I think I like to say "tiny toiletry." So sue me - I'm a big dork. Who knew?

Honest to God, I cannot believe that 48 hrs from now I'll be on a plane over the Atlantic, trying my best to sleep (with a little help from my friends - Xanax and BlueCross).

(In truth, I should be sleeping right now, but I'm all fired up because we won trivia, thanks in part to my remembering what year Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin (1794, fyi!). Don't ask me how I pulled that one out of my ass, but it was a moment of sheer inspiration! And our prizes were Pilsner Urquell glasses, which got me even more fired up about Eastern Europe, even if I'm not going to the Czech Republic... cheap, delicious, and plentiful beer awaits us wherever we go, I think!)

Rob and Lady - get to bloggin'!!! It's starting to be Sally blog #2... and I'm much funnier with you than without.

Making a List, Checking It Twice

I finally sat down today to make a list of things I need to pack (some of which are yet to be bought), and I started to freak out a little. I'm not sure I have room for everything I need (make that WANT) to take (as a notorious over-packer). I mean, what will the weather be like? What if I spill something on any or all of the few pieces of clothing I'm bringing? What about the new TSA regulations? What about the international regulations? What about the weight limits of the budget carriers? What if I overpack and regret it because I can't bring back enough souveniers? Would it be dumb to buy wine and check it in my luggage for the return flight? I DON'T KNOW!

Then again, I did make it through eight days in Germany with only one outfit in the dead of winter... I should be fine no matter what I take/don't take. This trip is supposed make me less neurotic, so I should just quit worrying about stupid shit like packing. It's not like I'm heading for rural Africa. This is Europe. It's civilized, and someone there will sell me whatever I may discover I need. (Okay, I've talked myself down from the packing stress ledge...)

I'm afraid the t-shirt project is languishing despite my good intentions. I keep hoping I can pull something out of my magic hat right before take-off, but things aren't lookin' too good at this point. If all else fails, I'll fucking buy undershirts and get out my Sharpie...

In the midst of all my pre-departure scrambling/worrying, I must tell you both, my fellow peanuts, how very excited I am to see you so soon! I can't believe it's less than a week until I pop my xanax and hop my transatlantic flight!