Excursion #1

I will have to write about the crazy awesome time that the town of Spiddal provides, but the first post I need to do is about the excursions we have had so far. So this is mostly off of notes I took, a part of it is reading Matt and Thomas' posts to remind myself what exactly happened.

So our first trip is called the Connemara excursion. We ended up venturing into the county due North of Galway. This ended up being in some ways the greatest journey of my life, because we got to ride in a bus driven by a man named Allen Jones. To describe this man, I would have to first quote the first words I ever heard him say. In response to a comment about getting thrown in an Irish jail he said, "Irish jails aren't that bad, and you can trust me, I've been in a jail in every country in Europe." Whether that is true or not is irrelevant. What is relevant is that this man, along with knowing about every jail in Europe, knew everything. He started a three hour talk once about turf. Turf is compressed biological compost found in bogs that is burned through Ireland as fuel. It came up in conversation, and he talked about it for three hours. This guy was amazing! After that trip he drove our bus on one other excursion. Since then, however, he has retired. Will he remember me, his faithful listener? The kid in the back of the bus that yelled up questions for him to answer, the kid who pointed out the window and eagerly wondered what Allen had to say about the world around him. Will he remember me? I don't know. What I do know is that his words were magic, and his stories were profound epics that I will forever wish were turned into audio-books, so I could listen to them forever.

Back to the excursion. We ended up going first up to this place called Ma Mean. Don' quote me on the spelling, there is alot of controversy with Irish and English spellings, but bottom line is that this was a mountain. Just a few steps up the mountain was Patrick's bed, I don't want to knock Saint Patrick, I am sure he was great, but when I see a mountain, I don't curl up at the base. I need to conquer it. So me and a handful of Minnesota's best decided to take a picture or two at the bottom of the mountain by a little stone alter before booking it halfway up the mountain. We got up into the clouds and decided it was probably enough and we went down. Looking back I realize you cannot beat a mountain until you have reached the summit, I will never make the terrible mistake of quitting halfway again. Upon arriving back to the bus we were entertained by Allen telling us all about his good friend, J.R.R. Tolkien's nephew, and how Tolkien claimed his inspiration for Middle Earth was the Connemara region. This is exactly what Connemara looks like. I half expected a group of birds to fly overhead, obviously spies from Isengard, etc. Allen is so wise.

After that we had to stop in some small town nestled in a bay. I am not even going to try to remember it's name, because to be honest it was hardly worth remembering. The reason for the stop has become a recurring theme on this trip, a slightly obnoxious time waster. We ended up taking the worst tour of a wool factory ever. Literally took 20 minutes, was something like 5 euro a head out of our trip funds, and was just an old women talking about sheep fornication and how it works. It sounds like I am kidding, but I guess rams are busy animals. It was horrible.

Finally we reached our final destination though, the great town of Clifden. When I say "great", I probably mean boring and insignificant. The place was about the size of Cold Spring and was considered the thriving metropolis of the Connemara region. We did get to go to a poetry reading by the great Irish poet Seamus Heaney. I don't care if you enjoy poetry or not, this was pretty cool. To hear the author of some of the great Irish poems reading them exactly how they are meant to be read is an experience, and probably something I will never forget. Plus, we were listening to him read them in a gorgeous church. After the reading we ended up exploring the town a bit and a few of us ended up listening to a session in on of Clifden's many pubs. It was great music, and I had a fantastic interaction with a man who was convinced I knew his wife because I knew where Spiddal was, it was terribly awkward. After that we went back to our hostel to rest up for some exploring at Connemara National Park the next day. The hostel we stayed at was top notch if anyone was wondering, and we had all the guys from our trip in one room, so of course we giggled like little girls for two hours before we fell asleep.

The last place of note was Connemara National Park, a beautiful park that overlooks the ocean and Ireland's largest mountain range. We hiked up to the top of "The Black Diamond." The hill was a pretty easy climb, but offered a tremendous view of the Irish landscape. I loved every second we spent up there.


Future posts will include, County Mayo/Westport (Not as sucky, but sort of), Portmagee (FML), and Killarney!

Cheers!

Skip Prague, Ireland: Day 1/2

So I have been way overdue in my blogging (as my mom has pointed out to me), but I am going to tell you what happened in week number one. So first off, let me say it is amazing, in fact if you have to get one thing out of this blog, know that it is the most amazing time I have ever had (through one week). I will try to get through each day.

Day One was the arrival on September 10th. We flew into Dublin airport and took one of those fancy double decker buses into Dublin. Once there we had to wait around for about 40 minutes for a bus across country into Galway. The bus ride itself took forever, about 4 1/2 hours to get across the whole country. Thomas and I spent a majority of the ride listening to loveline, a radioshow featuring Dr. Drew, the doctor on celebrity rehab...it is really a mindless show that insults both of our intelligences, but it passed the time. By the time we got to Galway bus station it was 7:30 and we had no way to get to our hotel. So we spent the next half hour trying to figure out how to use the payphones and we finally got through to a cab driver named Rauri who said he would get us to the hotel. Rauri is a longtime friend of the hotels owner and a really interesting guy. He was very energetic and more than happy to help us get acquainted with the city (I have since spent a morning having a cup of tea with the guy at his house and he is hilarious. I sort of wish that everyone would have the same view of the world as him, simply because it would be a magical world full of good conversation). The weather was gorgeous all day by the way (and we surprisingly have not seen a drop of rain since we arrived). After we got here we had to hear a thing or two about how the place worked then we went to bed...that was it, first day. Not too exciting, but still awesome! Oh yeah, the kids I am staying with are Pat, Ross, Ben, and Matt. Take note, dear reader, because these individuals will inevitable be included in many of my adventures.

Day two, September 11th (never forget and all that)
So in our little rundown o how the place worked I heard the most magical series of words, truly the only words any man needs to hear to be happy, "breakfast will be provided tomorrow." I know I already knocked on a free breakfast, but that was a hostel breakfast in a country that runs of Czech monopoly dollars this was a feast prepared by the wonderful Geraldine Foyle, a saint in the making who was one of the siblings that owns the Park Lodge. She was able to conjure up the most delicious meal I have ever had. There was (quoted from Matt Reeves blog), "fresh fruit, fresh bread, scrambled eggs, fresh cheese, fresh juice, amazing coffee, sausage, yogurt, and bacon." That is what Matt Reeve recalls, so I have to believe him. I on the other hand will never be able to truly remember what all was consumed. Plate after plate of this delicious food was devoured, but for some odd reason there were inturruptions from a few people saying things about "important information" and "it is essential to know. Obviously I was in the zone, so to speak, and I didn't really pay attention to what they said and I am guessing none of it was "need to know" stuff.

After our amazing amazing amazing (etc.) breakfast we went to Galway again. So we learned from the best bus driver in the world (a guy named Allen who can spit hot fire with a bus mic like no other) that Galway is a pretty crazy place. Not in the sense like it is wild and all that, more because it is old and seeped with history. The place used to be one of the most beautiful cities in all of Europe, but now it is sort of a small (about 90,000 people) city with a very small town feel. I went out with Pat and Maggie N and we ended up eating at a restaurant in Galway called Brannagans. They had fish and chips and I had a chicken and stuffing sandwich, looking back I wish it was warm, but it was still pretty good. We spent te rest of the afternoon trying to get ourselves acquainted with the city and just poking around in some of the shops. The whole plan that afternoon was to go to a large Super Target type store called Dunnes at the end of the afternoon, but the plans fell through. I have very few complaints about the trip, but this is my only one. I needed to get to this utopia of low prices and cheap fleece jackets! Since this fatal miscommunication, poor planning, bad directions, whatever it was that prevented our bus from taking us there, since that day Dunnes is my new holy grail, a place that I will have to enter with great reverence for all the potential it offers.

When we got back to Park Lodge we made our way into the small town of Spiddal to get some food (because our trip to Mecca was canceled and we had no groceries), and during dinner we had a run in with some of the Irish girls, specifically Geraldine's children and their friends. Now these little kids, although adorable and incredibly hard not to giggle at due to their cuteness factor, were a plague on our cabin. They grabbed a bucket of frogs and with a ruthlessness not seen in this country since the Viking invasions attacked our hearts and souls. We had to offer Swedish fish a a peace offering, but they stole them, along with all our remaining courage, and it wasn't until Geraldine (did I mention she is inevitably to become a saint in my book) called them off did they leave us be.

We ended up going down to the beach that night as a group where we all relaxed and watched the sunset. I am telling you right now that I will never forget how amazing that sunset was, with a whole group of people who I hardly know but will all individually be in some of the greatest memories I will ever have. It was almost surreal. This by the way was my secind view of the ocean. I had grabbed some Nutella in Spiddal earlier and went swimming in my boxers. The ocean is salty, I honestly wasn't expecting it. Maybe I am an idiot for being surprised, or maybe it looked so much like a lake (it is Galway Bay after all, not the real deal ocean) that I was just not thinking about it.

Prague: Day 2

So we woke up in Prague on day 2 and I went for a run and all that. It is straight uphill every direction, and I swear I get twice the workout in, so that is nice. Second, we switched rooms to save some Czech monopoly dollars, so for the last few days we have been in a dorm room with 13 other people. As I am writing this a couple days after all this happened, so I figure I can touch on this experience now. So we found out there are a few types of people that stayed in the room over the few nights we were here. One was a couple groups of Asian, college aged kids who all were very polite, spoke more than one language and did touristy things like us. Two were Czech people visiting their capital. They were usually out clubbing until late and we didn't have a ton of interactions due to a language barrier. Three, a much smaller group, was creepy girl who laid around on her bed for two days straight. She was the most depressing thing I have ever seen and we went to a concentration camp. Incredible.

Anyways, our second day started with a free breakfast of warm milk, warm juice, dry bread and...other barely edible things that I inevitably devoured. After that we went out to take a free walking tour of the city. Maybe we had too high of expectations after our Munich tour, but this one sucked! Not only did we learn nothing cool about Prague (possibly because the Czech Republic has a tendency to let anyone walk over them at every and any opportunity), but the guide was some fruitcake who tried to make learning fun. Learning is never fun. He spent three quarters of the tour imitating Nazi soldiers in bro-tastic mannerisms, which is not fun at all, and when he wasn't mocking people he was telling us useless facts. The only cool thing I learned about the history was that part of XXX was filmed there...remember when Vin Diesal was getting sniped on the balcony? Been there. Anyways, some notable areas and places include the world's largest gold Astronomical Clock in the center of what they call the Old Town Square. This clock was made way back in the day and every hour a little show went on dealing with the apostles and birds and a whole bunch of cool things...we never waited around to see it, but based on the throngs of people surrounding it I bet it was really cool. We went in Charles Bridge, which is a magnificent structure with 36 statues lining the sides. Each statue was a different Christian scene or saint, pretty impressive. The problem was that across the whole bridge people were trying to sell you things, so instead of contemplating deep issues of faith I had to shake off artists and musicians trying to make me buy their mediocre attempts at art. We also saw St. James church, which is a gorgeous Catholic church with a mummified arm hanging from the rafters. Apparently the statue of the Virgin Mary grabbed some guys arm when he was trying to take off with some stuff from the church, and the monks, upon finding the robber, in true medieval Christian fashion, cut off his arm and left it as an omen to church robbers everywhere. Other landmarks include the Tyn Church, Powder Gate, the National Museum, and The Jewish Quarter, where even the cemetary costed an astronomical enterence fee.

After the tour we headed to a grocery store where I found something that rocked my world more than anything, that includes Nutella. I bring up Nutella because as I was considering what would possibly be better than that delicious hazelnut treat and I distinctly remember thinking, "Self, What are your two favorite foods?" And as I shouted the answer "Nutella and Peanut Butter!" at the top of my mental lungs, there in front of me appeared Nugeta! If I try to describe it I will probably pass out to prevent my brain from exploding, but let me assure you...it is glorious.

Anyway, after waking up from in an ally with nugeta smeared across my face and 13 empty jars littered around me, Thomas and I took a short 3 mile walk up to Prague Castle to try to take in some of its vastness. The place was huge. I will get some pictures up, but the castle is big enough to fit 7 football fields inside of it and still have room to run around. It took us two hours just to walk to it, around it, and back.

After getting back Thomas, Matt and I went to a hill overlooking Prague and looked out at the city. As beautiful as the city was I think we had more fun with the psychedelic playground equipment. They all looked like smiling Gumby horses. We spent the evening playing on those and walking back to the hostel where Thomas and I actually had pasta, along with a generous helping of Nugeta before falling into a terrible sleep. The room was hot, the pillows thin, and creepy emo girl apparently never sleeps...she just peers around the room with squinty gollum eyes. I cannot even explain how creepy she was. Anyways, I have six days to catch up on, so I'll keep depressed girl descriptions to a minimum.

Mis amigos

If you want to follow Matt or Thomas through the course of their adventure you can check out their blogs too!

Thomas

http://thomasinireland.blogspot.com/

Matthew

http://www.mattinireland2009.blogspot.com/

Drunks

So before I go on and tell everyone how Prague is, I want to make a note about how much public drunkenness is on a streets of Europe, and how much of it rocks. So here are the short, unedited tales of three of my favorite drunks.

First off, and award for most awkward moment of the trip came when we were passing one of Munich's many strip clubs. We were about ten steps from the door when a man is thrown out onto the street, we sort of glanced in and looked to see who was tossing him out, assuming it was going to be some huge bouncer, but it ended up being several strippers with looks of contempt on their faces. You know you are a little overboard when you get looks of contempt from strippers of all people. The expulsion from the club wasn't the part that made him so drunk, it was the fact that he had his pants down to his knees and was completely unaware that his kit and kaboodles were on display for the whole world. As we turned the corner (please note we were walking past the strip club, not to it) he was slowly waddling away from the club with his pants slowly falling further down.

Drunk number two was the most entertaining of the three. We were in a pub called U Fleku here in Prague. When we first got to the pub there was a little two man tuba/accordion band playing some traditional Czech songs. Some of the more inebriated patrons ended up standing up, dancing, falling down and repeating more than once while they were playing, but it was still an enjoyable little duo. The entertainment to follow came in the form of a ridiculously trashed guy singing Czech songs at the top of his lungs with no regard to his surrounding or the laughter that swelled from every corner of the pub. The guy literally sang for ten minutes, getting pleasant applause when he was finished, and gentle encouragement whenever he would start to forget words.

The final drunk, and my personal favorite, was a man we saw grabbing a light pole as we exited the hostel at about 6:00 in the afternoon. At first I thought he was maybe waiting for someone, but he had the look on his face of a small child whenever them are going to the bathroom in their diaper. Just sort of holding onto the pole with a strange look of concentration/constipation on his face. As we passed him, he made his move, he started staggering sideways across the sidewalk to a windowsill where he stopped and got back into his awkward stance. We actually turned to watch as he made his way to the next light pole and repeated his actions. We turned to walk away, but I immediately thought of the advice I have gotten many times as a runner, if you are having a hard time during a run, find a checkpoint up ahead and make your way to it. Once you get to that one, pick another and repeat. That man was obviously taught the same lesson but was able to apply it to his everyday life. Kudos!

Prague: Day 1

September 6th- So we got off the train in Prague and got to our hostel, but let me explain to everyone a little about Czech Republic. So in Munich we got on a train that was just super. There were boyscouts cheerfully chattering in German, parents were running alongside the train to say goodbye to their kids, people were normal. We went for an hour or two on the train, watching the German countryside change from city to lush green hills and then we arrived in Nuremberg. Now I have no problems with Nuremberg, and I was sort of excited to switch trains because some little kid was having a seizure in the seat in front of me and taking advantage far too often of the reclining seat, but when it came to switching trains, we got a janky ghetto train. There was graffiti on the sides of the train, the people waiting for it were staring at their feet and slowly walking to the train like it was a death sentence. This atmosphere can be applied to all of the Czech Republic. The shadiness factor went up tenfold when we crossed the border, and they made us buy their Czech monopoly money. I believe I asked for 48 American Dollars and got a crisp 1000 Czech bill...

We got to our hostel pretty quickly and checked in. Of course it didn't disappoint, as shady as the rest of the city. Where wombats in Munich was top shelf, the Traveler's Hostel was beer in a can. When we went outside, however, we were pleasantly surprised to find that some parts of the city looked beautiful. We took a short walk towards the river in the city (which is disgusting by the way, like most other rivers in Europe) and stopped by a little stand where I got a huge sausage for 50 Czech monopoly dollars. We continued on towards the river and passed over a bridge where we saw the most amazing castle I have ever seen. I am still in awe. It is the largest medieval castle in the entire word, and nestled up on top of the hill is the most amazing Church I have ever seen, just gorgeous. When were were walking around we were sort of looking up the whole time, just admiring the fantastic architecture. There was also a lady playing a violin on Charles Bridge and it was pretty cool. She was charging about 300 Czech monopoly dollars for a cd, so she must have been really good, or maybe she was taking advantage of people feeling like they had a bajillion dollars (which would have been about 116 US dollars). We walked back to the hostel, went to bed, and prepared for an excellent adventure day 2!

Germany: Day 3

We woke up the morning of September 5^th sad to see the departure of Tom and Brian. It was also probably the best thing to happen to us on the trip thus far because it is quite possible that we would have been home in a week if we had spent money at the rate they encouraged us to. Thomas wanted a sobering experience and recommended a trip to Dachau, one of the first concentration camps in Germany. With a set plan for the day we set of to find an inexpensive way to eat. Now it is here, dear readers, that my life was changed. I found the greatest good in the world in the form of creamy gooey goodness of Nutella. For anyone that doesn’t know what Nutella is, I will try to describe it in a way to give it any justice. Imagine if heaven was mixed with hazelnuts, add a strand of Lothriel’s hair, and package it is a glass container (because obviously plastic cannot contain the goodness that is Nutella). I will never forget the LIDL, a grocery store that sells 1.5 L of water for 19 cents and bread for 59, it was very cheap, and Nutella was possibly the most expensive item at the store (for good reason), 1.99 euros. I spent the next half hour raving to strangers about the canned crack I carried with me as I left the store. Then, the unimaginable happened. For one minute I let my guard down then in slow motion I tried to switch my bag, a loaf of bread, a map, and my Nutella (which I refused to set down) to different hands, and some malevolent power pulled the Nutella towards Earth. I watched it plummet to the ground, my human reflexes unable to keep up with my mind, and the glass shattered. I can’t remember the next few minutes. I just know my vision went white with pain and fury and I woke up in a cold sweat on a train to Dachau hoping it was all just a dream. My Nutella was gone. In retrospect, this is a good thing because my Nutella addled mind was numbed by grief and I was able to come down from my high and be ready to experience Dachau.

The concentration camp was in a beautiful area outside of Munich, the trees were green and when we arrived, although overcast, it was a beautiful day. The landscape was at complete odds with the pain and atrocities that happened there all those years ago. Dachau was opened in 1933 as a place for mainly political prisoners against the Nazi movement, but was rebuilt in 1938 to house an ever increasing number of Jews who were imprisoned. The camp never became an extermination camp like Aushwitz, but there were still thousands of lives lost in the years that it was open, and most camps were modeled after the brutal regime that was “The Dachau Model.” As they say, pictures say a thousand words, and really I cannot say anything about the camp that is not better expressed with images (up when I get my computer in a few days).

After the emotional visit to Dachau we headed back to the hostel to await the arrival of a friend who was visiting from Salzberg. His name is Nick, but people affectionately refer to him as Salty. We found him by the Saint Michael’s Cathedral where he ambushed us, called us homos and demanded we show him a good time. After out experienced with Tom, we wanted nothing to do with pubs or shenanigans, so we went back to the hostel to relax (and hopefully keep Salty under control). We stopped at a grocery store on the way back to the hostel. I got a new jar of Nutella and some apples, Matt got some German chocolate, Thomas got some bread, and Salty got a bottle of wine (for himself) and a liter and a half of sprite. If it sounds like a recipe for disaster to you, you had more sense than we did. After a game of cribbage and Matt spending a significant amount of time napping Salty disappeared. He came back with a beautiful girl named Crissi who worked the front desk of the hostel. Thomas had repeatedly exclaimed how beautiful she was and Salty, in what the locals called “Mexican German”, told the lady to encourage us to go out and live it up the last night there. Thomas (an the rest of us) cannot say no to a pretty woman and went out to explore the night with Salty. Munich, luckily, closes down the entire city Saturday at midnight, so we did not have to deal with anything other than a street performer excited to have Americans to sing Beatles tunes with. We retired for the night happy to get some sleep and excited to head out to Prague (I finished this post on a train as we passed through Schwandorf)

Germany: Day 2

The next day I ran early and we took a walking tour of Munich that was great. The tour guy was a fine urbanite named Ozzie who spoke a variety of languages and was well versed in history. He began the tour at a brisk pace and spoke of magical Munich things, and by that I mean Hitler and the third Reich. Basically the history of Munich is absolutely fascinating. The entire city itself is very young, only four structures are older than 60. In World War II the allies bombed Munich heavily (it was the home of the Nazi movement) and the damage was so catastrophic that the whole city was in ruins. The city, however, had taken pictures of all buildings before the war started and were able to build the entire city as it was. If you want to know any other history, just let me know.

After the tour we went to the Augustiner Brau, and had the most ridiculous meal ever. For 9.95 euro we had 1/4 duck, a large potato dumpling, a pork knuckle, all you can eat pretzels and kraut, and roast pork. It was truly a feast for a king. I think kraut may be the greatest gift the Bavarians gave to mankind, because this was fantastic. After that we had a similar night to the one before...except instead of boxing we witnessed a race between the same two contenders, with a clear winner and a man who could not keep up.

Germany: Day 1

So the last 3 days in Europe (Spetember 3,4,5) can be explained in just a few words: beer, money, Tom, and Nutella. So we flew into Memmingham on September 3rd and by the time we got into Munich it was 12:15 or so. Now the flight was fairly forgettable but it is worth noting that it was only $16 and nomatter how you look at that, it rocks. We had to take a bus into Munich from Memmingham and I slept for the whole bus ride, but I hear it was very nice.

When we got to Munich we went to check in at our hostel, and we were ambushed by two men who have the ability to change the course of a trip, Tom and Brian. They are both in the Rome study abroad program and they were traveling via Euro rail across the continent. Now they are both very experienced in the Munich lifestyle (without ever visiting) Tom puts down liters like they are filled with kool-aid. His drinking habits besides the point, I need to get into all the things we did that made this city great.

First things first, I told everyone there was one stop I wanted to do, and that was the Munich Olympic Stadium, site of the 1972 Olympics and is famous for the terrorist attacks against the Israeli Olympic team. This stop was actually quite pathetic. Like going to a WNBA game it seemed like it could have been a fantastic stop full of athletic grandeur, but in reality was a failed attempt. All the buildings were decrepit and under construction. Plus, it was 5 bucks to get into any of the Olympic buildings and the buildings were all built in the 70s, which is quite possibly the worst era in architectural history. The historical significance may have made up for not getting to really see anything, but I am still bitter. The only highlight of the stop in the Olympic plaza was destroying ants and getting on the train to leave.

Next we got to do what Tom wanted, which means a beeline to the Hofbrau Haus, one of the worst tourist traps in all of Germany. This is where I learned something about German culture, if you are a human being and obviously old enough to tie your shoes, you drink. I don't know if I really asked for beer in any of the pubs we went to, overpriced liters just sort of appeared in front of me. So it was at the Hofbrau Haus I had my first German brew. You would have to ask the other four about how good it was, but it seemed like it was tasty, I managed to convince the waiter to give me a half liter, so maybe I wasn’t being a real German, but a half liter is still an imposing beer.

We went on a pub-crawl that night, I chose not to pay 17 Euro for the tour and instead told a sad tale of heart attacks and such so I could go along. We ended up at a small bar on the far side of town, its name is now lost to all of us. They sold some great stew and the conversation with the South African barkeep kept everyone entertained. The rest of that night will be left out due to a significant amount of tomfoolery. To make a long story short, I ended up watching after some of my compadres and witnessed the greatest southpaw boxer in history, a true young Muhammad Ali, take on Tom for the heavyweight championship of Wombats hostel.

London

Sweet Mercy. I haven't posted since before I left (mostly because I don't have a computer with me) but today Matt Reeve lent me his computer and I now get to update everyone on what we have done so far this trip.
On Tuesday, September 1st we flew out to London on an overnight flight from Minneapolis. I'll be completely honest, except for the free movies, long flights suck. I spent about 5 hours trying to sleep and maybe 3 hours sleeping, although eventually I gave up and instead just annoyed Matt with Thomas. We landed in London at about noon their time and did customs and all that fun stuff before getting into the city. Now, I am sure some people are thinking, "London is so cool, I bet you had so much fun," on the contrary we had almost no fun in London, it was the beautiful London Stansted airport that supplied all our fun for the first day...if you can call 2 hour in an airport with increasingly crabby people fun.
Our flight to Munich was at 6:55 the next morning, so with tears in our eyes and no food in our stomachs we caught a ridiculously priced train to get to the London Stansted airport 45 minutes outside of the center of the city. When we got there it was about 8:00 pm and I felt like we were in the cheesy first 20 minutes of a zombie movie. We arrive at this bizarre ghost-town of an airport with 4 or 5 flights left to leave. To imagine the airport you just have to imagine a huge square building, probably close to a half mile to walk all the way around the outside and the far back wall has the entrances to all 99 gates. The walls are glass all the way up, and the whole place creaks and moans when the wind blows, and we get there and realize that we are a part of a handful of people settling down for the long wait. We found some decent sandwiches and hunkered down in a corner to wait for the plane.
This is where the crabbiness starts from my dear, dear compadre Matt Reeve. I can understand why, we were running on zero sleep and I was being increasingly annoying. Talking in a Southern accent, telling him not to worry about anything, and doing almost nothing to prepare us for Munich (I am not too productive when I am tired), I was a little annoying. Not to mention Matt Reeve hoisted our futures on his huge shoulders. He planned everything for the next two days while Thomas and I listened to loveline and laughed our tired butts off. The crabbiness is besides the point and was very justifiable.
The reason it felt like a zombie movie (other than the airport at night thing) was that hundreds of travellers started arriving at about midnight to wait for their flights, we felt like refugees. People were sleeping everywhere and it was too a point where every bench and chair was occupied. By the time the morning came, I was starting to get sick of being around so many people and was sort of excited to get on the plane.
After we got through the gate Thomas insisted that 4:30 am after no sleep was the perfect time for a beer, and that is going to be the memory I am planning to hang onto. Thomas Joyce telling me that it was the perfect time to drink, me exclaiming that it was way too early, and hime pointing out literally hundreds of people at and around the bar drinking half-liters of beer. Europe is ridiculous, but Thomas and Matt acted the part while they enjoyed their 4:30 pick-me-up.

My First Post: Day Before Departure

Hey everyone who is anyone! My name is Jimmy Backes, I am a Junior at The University of Saint John's and I leave tomorrow on a study abroad trip that should be cool enough to write a blog about (and that is saying something). So, with everything packed in my 44 liter Osprey backpack I fly out of Minneapolis, not for Ireland, but for the great city of London where I will begin some pre-gaming so to speak, as me and my travel buddies will see a little of Europe before we settle down in Ireland. First things first, you should know the two guys I am traveling with. Thomas Joyce is a Junior at SJU, he is a member of the track team and by far the most traveled of the three of us. Matt Reeve is also a member of the track team at SJU and is pretty much an Irish giant to begin with, so he just needs some experiences over there to go with his red hair to become a full fledged Irish citizen (even though he claims he has little to no Irish blood in him). I assure you I am not as interesting or awesome as the two of them.

So the plan is to get to Munich, Vienna and Prague in 10 days. I may or may not have access to a computer, so it will be questionable when the second post will be, but I am willing to bet the farm that it will be one of the best entries I have ever written