Sunday, January 29, 2012
Thefrenchhaveashopforeverything.
This is the French and the obsession with having an individual shop for everything, taken to the next level.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Casual Saturday evening happenings.
Walking home from a friends apartment (on the Grands Boulevards! Where I will soon be staying! Oh la la.) and I happened across this.
Fire truck comes blasting round the corner, lights screeching and sirens blaring, then halts to a stop, whacks out the extendable ladder and scales this building. When they get to the top, they're greeted by a nice middle aged man and a lady holding a baby, casual as can be. The man goes inside through the window, closes the widows and the other man brings the ladder back down and drives off into the traffic.
Maybe he was running late?
I need to get me a fire truck.
Fire truck comes blasting round the corner, lights screeching and sirens blaring, then halts to a stop, whacks out the extendable ladder and scales this building. When they get to the top, they're greeted by a nice middle aged man and a lady holding a baby, casual as can be. The man goes inside through the window, closes the widows and the other man brings the ladder back down and drives off into the traffic.
Maybe he was running late?
I need to get me a fire truck.
Grève.
There's only one reason for a street being empty in Paris.
Strikes.
Making the usually busy Place de République look like a desert. Perfect for me running late.
Strikes.
Making the usually busy Place de République look like a desert. Perfect for me running late.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Pour un rire.
I am currently in a hostel with two American girls. They're very nice, just on a wee holiday round Europe after serving in Afghanistan.
After chatting for about 20 minutes one of them asks me:
"What language do they speak in New Zealand?"
Not sure if it says more about their cultural knowledge or my English.
After chatting for about 20 minutes one of them asks me:
"What language do they speak in New Zealand?"
Not sure if it says more about their cultural knowledge or my English.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Time Tracking.
After two amazing days being whisked around the beauty of Ireland by the 'Jesus' cursing, joke telling, Irishman Colin with his infectious laughter, speed talking and fondness for rude Irish songs, I'm back in the bustling city of Dublin.
After assuming we were leaving tomorrow, we arrived at the hostel desk and welcomed by the familiar face of the lady who checked us in two days ago. After whizzing through the necessaries, she told us we were staying two nights, leaving on the 24th. Hmm, we were confused. 'what day is it today?' we asked her. She looked at us quizzingly, 'it's Sunday' she replied, clearly worried and confused by our inability to understand life basics. N and I looked at each other.
'Right, so, what date would that be?' We tried to ask as if we weren't dyslexic 5 year olds but to no avail.
'The 22nd.' she answered, straight faced and unblinking.
Looks like we're in Dublin an extra day then! Stoked, we get to see the city in daylight! Having arrived at night, left before the sun rose and arrived back in the dark tonight, we were going to be gutted to leave Dublin without fully seeing it, but now we can! A whole day to lap it up tomorrow.
Side note: I highly recommend Paddy Wagon tours. Amazing.
I happened to get super lucky and was on a bus with Australians, French (Reunion Island) and Bolivians and boy was it a good group! Most of the traveling was spent either a.) learning Irish jokes (most dirty), b.) singing Irish songs or c.) paying Colin out about his accent and his inability to stop saying 'Jesus'. Today I kissed the Blarney Stone (apparently I will now be blessed with the gift of the gab. Can't wait. Could come in handy for my Disney audition.) and it is actually kinda scary. You have to lie down at the top of the castle with your back to the wall, tilt your head right back so that your face to face with the ground 50 meters below you and practically hang over the edge from you butt down to your face. Luckily there is a lovely old man there to hold you (as well as conveniently placed steel handles, obviously those who built it in 1446 had good insight to it's future use.) However I would have loved to have seen how Winston Churchill (another kisser of the Blarney) got up the steps to the top. The sign at the beginning claiming any deaths or injuries experienced while in the castle were your own problem did nothing to reassure me of the stability to the miniature, steep and tightly winding steps.
We even visited an impressive rock outcrop at the top of a hill that gave us a 360 view in every direction (haha, clearly I'm tired), beautiful! It was a stunning view. Reminds me so much of NZ here! As did the morning walk to the waterfall that begun the day. We were luckily enough to get amazing weather all day, it didn't rain once and there was blue sky and sun the whole time. A true rarity in Ireland!
We even learnt Irish dancing at the bottom of the rocks as the sun was setting behind the greenest grass you've ever seen; linked arms and confused faces with 'the Galway girl' blasting out from the tour bus.
Thank you Paddy Wagon tours, and thank you Colin, for providing me with endless opportunity to laugh at you, when 99% of the time I had absolutely no idea what you were saying.
After assuming we were leaving tomorrow, we arrived at the hostel desk and welcomed by the familiar face of the lady who checked us in two days ago. After whizzing through the necessaries, she told us we were staying two nights, leaving on the 24th. Hmm, we were confused. 'what day is it today?' we asked her. She looked at us quizzingly, 'it's Sunday' she replied, clearly worried and confused by our inability to understand life basics. N and I looked at each other.
'Right, so, what date would that be?' We tried to ask as if we weren't dyslexic 5 year olds but to no avail.
'The 22nd.' she answered, straight faced and unblinking.
Looks like we're in Dublin an extra day then! Stoked, we get to see the city in daylight! Having arrived at night, left before the sun rose and arrived back in the dark tonight, we were going to be gutted to leave Dublin without fully seeing it, but now we can! A whole day to lap it up tomorrow.
Side note: I highly recommend Paddy Wagon tours. Amazing.
I happened to get super lucky and was on a bus with Australians, French (Reunion Island) and Bolivians and boy was it a good group! Most of the traveling was spent either a.) learning Irish jokes (most dirty), b.) singing Irish songs or c.) paying Colin out about his accent and his inability to stop saying 'Jesus'. Today I kissed the Blarney Stone (apparently I will now be blessed with the gift of the gab. Can't wait. Could come in handy for my Disney audition.) and it is actually kinda scary. You have to lie down at the top of the castle with your back to the wall, tilt your head right back so that your face to face with the ground 50 meters below you and practically hang over the edge from you butt down to your face. Luckily there is a lovely old man there to hold you (as well as conveniently placed steel handles, obviously those who built it in 1446 had good insight to it's future use.) However I would have loved to have seen how Winston Churchill (another kisser of the Blarney) got up the steps to the top. The sign at the beginning claiming any deaths or injuries experienced while in the castle were your own problem did nothing to reassure me of the stability to the miniature, steep and tightly winding steps.
We even visited an impressive rock outcrop at the top of a hill that gave us a 360 view in every direction (haha, clearly I'm tired), beautiful! It was a stunning view. Reminds me so much of NZ here! As did the morning walk to the waterfall that begun the day. We were luckily enough to get amazing weather all day, it didn't rain once and there was blue sky and sun the whole time. A true rarity in Ireland!
We even learnt Irish dancing at the bottom of the rocks as the sun was setting behind the greenest grass you've ever seen; linked arms and confused faces with 'the Galway girl' blasting out from the tour bus.
Thank you Paddy Wagon tours, and thank you Colin, for providing me with endless opportunity to laugh at you, when 99% of the time I had absolutely no idea what you were saying.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Killarney.
Arrived tonight in this brilliant Irish town on the west of Ireland! Spent much of the night playing hide and seek with a very drunk Irishman who apparently misunderstood 'no' for 'yes', which Colin McCreedy (his real name, not joking), our tour guide had warned us about.
Today we braved 100km/hr winds to see the Cliffs of Moher, absolutely stunning natural beauty. Unfortunately I spent most of the time concentrating on keeping my feet on solid ground. Holy shit the wind was strong! Or as the Irish would say, Jesus! (I cannot even count how many times Colin has said that, it is an ongoing joke, particularly for the French in our group who would never hear that in France.)
Tomorrow we are going to kiss the Blarney Stone!
Ireland is beautiful and so much like New Zealand! It is wonderful to feel so at home.
Bar the 1000 year old stone walls built by the slaves who were subsequently shot....
To be sure, to be sure.
Today we braved 100km/hr winds to see the Cliffs of Moher, absolutely stunning natural beauty. Unfortunately I spent most of the time concentrating on keeping my feet on solid ground. Holy shit the wind was strong! Or as the Irish would say, Jesus! (I cannot even count how many times Colin has said that, it is an ongoing joke, particularly for the French in our group who would never hear that in France.)
Tomorrow we are going to kiss the Blarney Stone!
Ireland is beautiful and so much like New Zealand! It is wonderful to feel so at home.
Bar the 1000 year old stone walls built by the slaves who were subsequently shot....
To be sure, to be sure.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Land of Green.
Spent the night in an Irish bar, drinking Kilkenny, listening to the astonishingly hard to understand accent, the beautiful sounds of the banjo, bagpipes and fiddle and reveling in the upbeat, communal atmosphere of the Irish pub.
Not to mention the tap dancing.
Just another Friday night in McFaggans Irish pub.
Up in 5 hours for our Paddywagon tour! G'night.
Not to mention the tap dancing.
Just another Friday night in McFaggans Irish pub.
Up in 5 hours for our Paddywagon tour! G'night.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
A Day in Brussels.
Second and final day in Belgium's capital, this trip is flying by! By tomorrow evening i'll be out of Belgium and on my way to Norway (if all things go to plan and Ryanair aren't as terrible as I've heard. Pert sure they could give Jetstar a run for their money..)
After a hot nights sleep last night (6 people in one room makes for some heavy breathing and serious heat), and a fabulous shower (where I had two hands free for the entire time!), I went crazy on the breakfasts, although they didn't have a toaster (back near the French part of Belgium so it makes sense) they had fruit toast, apple juice, yogurt!!, crazy stuff. Loaded up on as much as I could muster for the day ahead (and as much as would fit with the many leftover waffles still chilling in my estomac..)
By 9.15am I was pounding the pavement and I'm pretty sure that today I walked the entire inner Brussels. I pretty much followed my feet and managed to see a huge part of Brussels, seeing some of the more well known areas, as well as leading myself to one of the more dodgy parts of town which, alone, was a pretty interesting experience. But after escaping that (and making sure I still had all my belongings) I strolled back to the heart of town past the many hidden wall paintings that grace this city. I saw a lot of churches, and a lot of beggars who hang out around them, and even made the most of a locals tip, to head to the rooftop of the parking building on rue de la vierge noire, which is a secret spot to get a panoramic view of the city. It was amazing! Unfortunately the day was a bit overcast, but I was able to see for ages in every direction! So cool.
I could even see the balls of the atomium. I even visited them later in the afternoon but they are closed for maintenance from January 9th to 13th, gutted! They are massive balls, all joined together and were created for a World Exhibition of 1958. They're supposed to represent an iron crystal magnified 165 billion times. Apparently this was during the belief that atomic energy would one day save the world. Maybe these nine balls are the place to be when Decemeber 2012 rolls around.
Other than walking across Brussels like a mad woman, immanaged to check out the two peeing statues. The main one is now somewhat of a naional symbol of a boy peeing which doubles as a water fountain, with the water coming from... well, you can guess. His name is Manneken Pis and his suit is actually changed a couple of times a month by a guy called Jean-Marc, all his clothes are kept in the City Museum. Random! No idea what it's for. There's lots of chocolate shops on the street (and everywhere, actually. It's like Brussels got Parkinson's when dishing out these gems) but one of the chocolate shops has a super sized chocolate replica of the peeing boy in their shop window. On the opposite side of the street is a waffle shop, with the peeing boy (incidentally he's brown like chocolate) and holding a waffle to cover his pee...) I really have to question the campaign decisions behind promoting this city. I then checked out the obligatory follow up, the peeing dog. Its on a random street, just casually peeing against a post and someone has spray painted yellow paint onto the pole. Genius. It's a must-do.
Brussels is so big and I spent the whole day doing everything I could, knowing we have to leave early-ish tomorrow to catch our late afternoon flight out. (Ryanair is cheap, but it's clever. It doesn't fly from the main airports if it can try. Hence our flight is from Charleroi, outside Brussels, rather than the convenient Brussels airport.)
Can't believe I'm off to Norway tomorrow! This is where the value of exchange's is apparent, I never would have thought of going to Norway before meeting R! First night in Oslo, next in her family's village house, the next in her family's countryside cabin and the last back in Oslo!
Also checking the weather forecast, high of -7degrees! Think I may have to wear everything I own.
After a hot nights sleep last night (6 people in one room makes for some heavy breathing and serious heat), and a fabulous shower (where I had two hands free for the entire time!), I went crazy on the breakfasts, although they didn't have a toaster (back near the French part of Belgium so it makes sense) they had fruit toast, apple juice, yogurt!!, crazy stuff. Loaded up on as much as I could muster for the day ahead (and as much as would fit with the many leftover waffles still chilling in my estomac..)
By 9.15am I was pounding the pavement and I'm pretty sure that today I walked the entire inner Brussels. I pretty much followed my feet and managed to see a huge part of Brussels, seeing some of the more well known areas, as well as leading myself to one of the more dodgy parts of town which, alone, was a pretty interesting experience. But after escaping that (and making sure I still had all my belongings) I strolled back to the heart of town past the many hidden wall paintings that grace this city. I saw a lot of churches, and a lot of beggars who hang out around them, and even made the most of a locals tip, to head to the rooftop of the parking building on rue de la vierge noire, which is a secret spot to get a panoramic view of the city. It was amazing! Unfortunately the day was a bit overcast, but I was able to see for ages in every direction! So cool.
I could even see the balls of the atomium. I even visited them later in the afternoon but they are closed for maintenance from January 9th to 13th, gutted! They are massive balls, all joined together and were created for a World Exhibition of 1958. They're supposed to represent an iron crystal magnified 165 billion times. Apparently this was during the belief that atomic energy would one day save the world. Maybe these nine balls are the place to be when Decemeber 2012 rolls around.
Other than walking across Brussels like a mad woman, immanaged to check out the two peeing statues. The main one is now somewhat of a naional symbol of a boy peeing which doubles as a water fountain, with the water coming from... well, you can guess. His name is Manneken Pis and his suit is actually changed a couple of times a month by a guy called Jean-Marc, all his clothes are kept in the City Museum. Random! No idea what it's for. There's lots of chocolate shops on the street (and everywhere, actually. It's like Brussels got Parkinson's when dishing out these gems) but one of the chocolate shops has a super sized chocolate replica of the peeing boy in their shop window. On the opposite side of the street is a waffle shop, with the peeing boy (incidentally he's brown like chocolate) and holding a waffle to cover his pee...) I really have to question the campaign decisions behind promoting this city. I then checked out the obligatory follow up, the peeing dog. Its on a random street, just casually peeing against a post and someone has spray painted yellow paint onto the pole. Genius. It's a must-do.
Brussels is so big and I spent the whole day doing everything I could, knowing we have to leave early-ish tomorrow to catch our late afternoon flight out. (Ryanair is cheap, but it's clever. It doesn't fly from the main airports if it can try. Hence our flight is from Charleroi, outside Brussels, rather than the convenient Brussels airport.)
Can't believe I'm off to Norway tomorrow! This is where the value of exchange's is apparent, I never would have thought of going to Norway before meeting R! First night in Oslo, next in her family's village house, the next in her family's countryside cabin and the last back in Oslo!
Also checking the weather forecast, high of -7degrees! Think I may have to wear everything I own.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Bruxelles.
Nous sommes arrivées à Bruxelles!
After our slight tram mishap we finally arrived at the train station and bidded adieu to lovely Gent. The train ride there was extremely short and this time we didn't land ourselves in first class, mixing with the rich and famous but took our seats at the latter end of the train, where the toilets have a direct path onto the track and the windows are stapled shut for fear of jumpers. After a speedy ride, our arrival in Brussels was met with the welcome sound of the French accent. So nice to understand things again! Not that there's much of an improvement.
We managed to navigate the metro to our hostel (which was amazing in itself because the metro system is actually ridiculous. I'm sure it's perfectly sensible once you understand how to work it but there is no map at any of the stations and they don't got in any pattern. They pretty much just head where they want to. Very bizarre. Luckily a nice man with an intriguing accent helped us out and pointed us in the right direction). The hostel here is awesome and so cosy! It's like camp and so far the one roomate we met is Greek and very cool. Bonus: the shower is a turn handle! Luxury! All the hostels we've stayed at so far have had buttons (or chains, don't ask) to turn on the shower that run out after about 10 seconds and make for very cold, and hard work. So excited to have a shower now! Cheap thrills...
We headed down the 5th most expensive street in the Belgian version of Monopoly and it's pretty awesome. Such good shopping! Antwerp is supposedly the place for the best shopping but Brussels seems pretty good so far! We only went into one shop, Forever 21 and oh my god. It was incredible. I actually wanted to buy everything. Damn this airplane weight limit. So cheap too! Not only that but the store wasn't crazy like everywhere in Paris! Room to breathe.
The next part of the day was by far the strangest. We headed in the general direction of the centre of the city and stumbled upon the Grand Place, or Grote Markt (everything here is in French and Flemish, even the street signs. Yet everyone speaks French.) Suddenly we were met with all these people in white paper chef hats walking round outside the City Hall, a crazy man jumping about on a stage and cameras and filming crew everywhere. There were also stands with free waffles and hot chocolate! We were totally in awe of what was happening but managed to find a sign that said it was for the celebration of restaurants and gourmand (don't know the English translation, like eating well and enjoying going out for social eating/drinking). We signed up and received one of the crazy paper chef hats (that looked remarkably similar to Klu Klux Klan outfits) and lined up for our waffles. Yum! They were hot and delicious. Belgians sure do good waffles!
Then all of a sudden, everyone was being told to avancez and a massive group had crowded together, of which we were squashed into the middle of. We actually had no idea what was happening, drowned out in the deliciousness of our waffles (and my chocolate chaud, which was the end of the barrel and therefore was practically like drinking a chocolate bar. They definitely don't stinge on putting actual chocolate in their drinks here. My waistline is stoked.)
Then the crazy guy on the stage was getting more and more excited, getting louder and louder and a dozen or so camera crews were crowding round us. I felt like Britney mid-breakdown with camera flashes in my face all over the place. Then crazy dude was telling us he was going to count to five and we all had to throw out chef hats in the air. Righty. We did that a couple of times, which seemed to delight everyone, and we were told that this was actually an attempt to break a world record, currently held by Pakistan. He didn't tell us what the record was, and nor did he say if we broke it. I think he may have been high on waffles.
We revelled in the free food (which now as I type this I seriously regret, goodbye any chance of dinner) and then headed off to the cathedral which I fail to remember as it was mostly taken up with my steely concentration not to empty the contents of my stomach on the other unsuspecting religious folk.
So all in all, a bizarre, but brilliant, day. I had no idea Brussels was this big. It has skyscrapers galore. (including one which is on the walk from the metro to our hostel that we stared at for way too long. We looked like hicks from the mid-west). Tomorrow we plan to get more done than get caught up in the Belgian celebrations, but if there are waffles on offer, you never know what might happen. So far, Brussels is so different to Bruges and Gent, but very cool! Has that big city feel, and is slightly warmer. Mes doigts sure love it.
Can't wait to get out and explore tomorrow. Think I may love this city.
After our slight tram mishap we finally arrived at the train station and bidded adieu to lovely Gent. The train ride there was extremely short and this time we didn't land ourselves in first class, mixing with the rich and famous but took our seats at the latter end of the train, where the toilets have a direct path onto the track and the windows are stapled shut for fear of jumpers. After a speedy ride, our arrival in Brussels was met with the welcome sound of the French accent. So nice to understand things again! Not that there's much of an improvement.
We managed to navigate the metro to our hostel (which was amazing in itself because the metro system is actually ridiculous. I'm sure it's perfectly sensible once you understand how to work it but there is no map at any of the stations and they don't got in any pattern. They pretty much just head where they want to. Very bizarre. Luckily a nice man with an intriguing accent helped us out and pointed us in the right direction). The hostel here is awesome and so cosy! It's like camp and so far the one roomate we met is Greek and very cool. Bonus: the shower is a turn handle! Luxury! All the hostels we've stayed at so far have had buttons (or chains, don't ask) to turn on the shower that run out after about 10 seconds and make for very cold, and hard work. So excited to have a shower now! Cheap thrills...
We headed down the 5th most expensive street in the Belgian version of Monopoly and it's pretty awesome. Such good shopping! Antwerp is supposedly the place for the best shopping but Brussels seems pretty good so far! We only went into one shop, Forever 21 and oh my god. It was incredible. I actually wanted to buy everything. Damn this airplane weight limit. So cheap too! Not only that but the store wasn't crazy like everywhere in Paris! Room to breathe.
The next part of the day was by far the strangest. We headed in the general direction of the centre of the city and stumbled upon the Grand Place, or Grote Markt (everything here is in French and Flemish, even the street signs. Yet everyone speaks French.) Suddenly we were met with all these people in white paper chef hats walking round outside the City Hall, a crazy man jumping about on a stage and cameras and filming crew everywhere. There were also stands with free waffles and hot chocolate! We were totally in awe of what was happening but managed to find a sign that said it was for the celebration of restaurants and gourmand (don't know the English translation, like eating well and enjoying going out for social eating/drinking). We signed up and received one of the crazy paper chef hats (that looked remarkably similar to Klu Klux Klan outfits) and lined up for our waffles. Yum! They were hot and delicious. Belgians sure do good waffles!
Then all of a sudden, everyone was being told to avancez and a massive group had crowded together, of which we were squashed into the middle of. We actually had no idea what was happening, drowned out in the deliciousness of our waffles (and my chocolate chaud, which was the end of the barrel and therefore was practically like drinking a chocolate bar. They definitely don't stinge on putting actual chocolate in their drinks here. My waistline is stoked.)
Then the crazy guy on the stage was getting more and more excited, getting louder and louder and a dozen or so camera crews were crowding round us. I felt like Britney mid-breakdown with camera flashes in my face all over the place. Then crazy dude was telling us he was going to count to five and we all had to throw out chef hats in the air. Righty. We did that a couple of times, which seemed to delight everyone, and we were told that this was actually an attempt to break a world record, currently held by Pakistan. He didn't tell us what the record was, and nor did he say if we broke it. I think he may have been high on waffles.
We revelled in the free food (which now as I type this I seriously regret, goodbye any chance of dinner) and then headed off to the cathedral which I fail to remember as it was mostly taken up with my steely concentration not to empty the contents of my stomach on the other unsuspecting religious folk.
So all in all, a bizarre, but brilliant, day. I had no idea Brussels was this big. It has skyscrapers galore. (including one which is on the walk from the metro to our hostel that we stared at for way too long. We looked like hicks from the mid-west). Tomorrow we plan to get more done than get caught up in the Belgian celebrations, but if there are waffles on offer, you never know what might happen. So far, Brussels is so different to Bruges and Gent, but very cool! Has that big city feel, and is slightly warmer. Mes doigts sure love it.
Can't wait to get out and explore tomorrow. Think I may love this city.
Les avantages des filles.
Today began with tram rides. A lot of them. We bought a team ticket which is supposed to last for as many tram rides as you need in one day, but we ended up getting on so many trams that we used it all up pretty quickly. We also know the castle, Gravensteen, very very well. But after we worked out how to navigate the above-ground beasts a little better, we eventually made it to the train station.
We were greeted with a set of stairs up into the train station which had seemed fine going down on the way here but now seemed like Mount Cook for an ant. Luckily my apparent struggling was enough to alert the lovely male walking behind me and, without even a whimper of regret, he picked my suitcase up like it was made of candy floss and scooped it up the steps.
I bid him thank you with a faltering bedankast and a flutter of the eyelids.
We were greeted with a set of stairs up into the train station which had seemed fine going down on the way here but now seemed like Mount Cook for an ant. Luckily my apparent struggling was enough to alert the lovely male walking behind me and, without even a whimper of regret, he picked my suitcase up like it was made of candy floss and scooped it up the steps.
I bid him thank you with a faltering bedankast and a flutter of the eyelids.
Flemish.
Ook - carrot
Dank u - thank you
Bedankst - thanks/cheers
Straat - street
Klein - small
Lieve - lady
Kip - chicken
Wow. The unlimited world of things I can say with these phrases.
Dank u - thank you
Bedankst - thanks/cheers
Straat - street
Klein - small
Lieve - lady
Kip - chicken
Wow. The unlimited world of things I can say with these phrases.
Dank U Gent.
Another day here in the beautiful land of canals, blue sky and ankle breaking cobblestone streets.
Yesterday we began the morning with a boat ride down the canals, getting our load of history in three languages and discovering the story behind Gent's beautiful city. We managed to see the only remaining wooden house on Gent (that thing is just waiting to be destroyed by a fire), the old factory that is now one of the flashest restaurants in Gent (and presumably the most likely to serve you bolts with your meatballs.)
We checked out the famed castle which is right near our hostel and which served as both a factory and a prison at one stage. They had all the torture equipment that was used back in the day when Gent was still a naughty place that beheaded people (they stopped in 1896, thankfully). Super freaky! They even had a guillotine with the actual piece of metal that was used. Ick. Naturally, it was interdit to touch it.
There was also a magnificent view from outside at the top of the castle that ensured more windburn but a beautiful view! Gent spread for ages! We could actually see the university from up there and see how far we walked the first day. Such a beautiful place that we managed to see with the sun glistening off the rooftops.
Another must see was the entire street that is covered in graffiti and is now something of an attraction. It was amazing! I now will adamantly argue with anyone that says graffiti isn't art (and have seriously considered taking it up as a hobby.... Just kidding Mum.)
I even made it to the only remaining old gates in Gent and while taking photos of the stunning scenery I was joined by a weed smoking youth. He sure seemed to enjoy the scenery.
Up early this morning and off to Brussels! Pretty excited! Brussels is home to the most expensive street on the Belgian version of Monopoly! It is also known for its rain. But we've been greeted by the most amazing weather everywhere so far, long may it continue!
Bedankst Gent.
Yesterday we began the morning with a boat ride down the canals, getting our load of history in three languages and discovering the story behind Gent's beautiful city. We managed to see the only remaining wooden house on Gent (that thing is just waiting to be destroyed by a fire), the old factory that is now one of the flashest restaurants in Gent (and presumably the most likely to serve you bolts with your meatballs.)
We checked out the famed castle which is right near our hostel and which served as both a factory and a prison at one stage. They had all the torture equipment that was used back in the day when Gent was still a naughty place that beheaded people (they stopped in 1896, thankfully). Super freaky! They even had a guillotine with the actual piece of metal that was used. Ick. Naturally, it was interdit to touch it.
There was also a magnificent view from outside at the top of the castle that ensured more windburn but a beautiful view! Gent spread for ages! We could actually see the university from up there and see how far we walked the first day. Such a beautiful place that we managed to see with the sun glistening off the rooftops.
Another must see was the entire street that is covered in graffiti and is now something of an attraction. It was amazing! I now will adamantly argue with anyone that says graffiti isn't art (and have seriously considered taking it up as a hobby.... Just kidding Mum.)
I even made it to the only remaining old gates in Gent and while taking photos of the stunning scenery I was joined by a weed smoking youth. He sure seemed to enjoy the scenery.
Up early this morning and off to Brussels! Pretty excited! Brussels is home to the most expensive street on the Belgian version of Monopoly! It is also known for its rain. But we've been greeted by the most amazing weather everywhere so far, long may it continue!
Bedankst Gent.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Gent (Ghent?)
After a surprisingly cosy and delicious sleep last night (despite sleeping in a room with 8 other people), I awoke early and rose as the moon was still out and the morning rain was still pattering down outside. Successfully manoeuvring my way down the rope bridge steps that shake and rattle as you walk on them (a real test of how awake, or drunk, you are). Breakfast is delicious. First of all: toast!!!!! That in itself is amazing. I actually have not had toast since I left NZ. That is a long time after practically living off it during flatting. There was a huge assortment of spreads, including Speculoos! The delicious biscuits that have been turned into a paste (because anything that tastes good as biscuits of course tastes good as a paste). And, best of all, tea. Real tea. Not French tea. Thank goodness.
By the time we set off the morning rain that seems to plague Bruges had disappeared and once again, the morning was beautiful. Blue sky and brisk temperatures. After buying a ticket to Gent (5.90 euro, the cheapest price I have ever paid to get to another city. Bless you, Europe) we went to the platform, only to miss the train by mere seconds. One hour (and a delicious waffle) later and we were on the next train. The trip was short, about 25 minutes, and it passed even faster when the ticket conductor came past and told us we were sitting in first class. Our bad. We thought all trains had deluxe seats, entertainment systems and free flowing champagne served by topless waiters.
Arriving in Gent it was clear that it was much larger than Bruges! We actually had to catch a tram instead of walking everywhere! After getting lost but eventually finding our way to the hostel, we dropped off our bags and set off into the beautiful streets. Gent is considerably bigger than Bruges but remains a beautiful town, framed by skinny brick buildings all attached to each other, dangerous cobblestone streets, quaint canals and welcoming people.
Belgium so far feels like one of those places where nothing bad ever happens. Everyone is happy, people know they are living in a beautiful place and anyone who ever feels like doing something bad is instantly distracted by the delicious chocolates or the warm smell of waffles wafting throughout the streets.
We ended up walking all day around a huge part of Gent, checking out many churches, a Japanese garden, a well known and well loved tree (yup, a tree. It's actually pretty average. Think one of Hagley Park's gems on an autumn day) as well as stumbling upon outdoor ice skating, a fairground, and getting completely distracted by impressive looking buildings and churches (and consequently lost. We may or may not have scaled a hill and walked across a dangerous construction site bridge that had cross signs on it to find our way back. But it was fine, we made sure to distribute our weight evenly across it when walking, and then sprinted our of fear.)
This city is beautiful, but I am absolutely exhausted.
By the time we set off the morning rain that seems to plague Bruges had disappeared and once again, the morning was beautiful. Blue sky and brisk temperatures. After buying a ticket to Gent (5.90 euro, the cheapest price I have ever paid to get to another city. Bless you, Europe) we went to the platform, only to miss the train by mere seconds. One hour (and a delicious waffle) later and we were on the next train. The trip was short, about 25 minutes, and it passed even faster when the ticket conductor came past and told us we were sitting in first class. Our bad. We thought all trains had deluxe seats, entertainment systems and free flowing champagne served by topless waiters.
Arriving in Gent it was clear that it was much larger than Bruges! We actually had to catch a tram instead of walking everywhere! After getting lost but eventually finding our way to the hostel, we dropped off our bags and set off into the beautiful streets. Gent is considerably bigger than Bruges but remains a beautiful town, framed by skinny brick buildings all attached to each other, dangerous cobblestone streets, quaint canals and welcoming people.
Belgium so far feels like one of those places where nothing bad ever happens. Everyone is happy, people know they are living in a beautiful place and anyone who ever feels like doing something bad is instantly distracted by the delicious chocolates or the warm smell of waffles wafting throughout the streets.
We ended up walking all day around a huge part of Gent, checking out many churches, a Japanese garden, a well known and well loved tree (yup, a tree. It's actually pretty average. Think one of Hagley Park's gems on an autumn day) as well as stumbling upon outdoor ice skating, a fairground, and getting completely distracted by impressive looking buildings and churches (and consequently lost. We may or may not have scaled a hill and walked across a dangerous construction site bridge that had cross signs on it to find our way back. But it was fine, we made sure to distribute our weight evenly across it when walking, and then sprinted our of fear.)
This city is beautiful, but I am absolutely exhausted.
Living à la local.
Strolling around Gent in complete disbelief of the beauty. Waltzing up to a stage with a mini performance going on by a couple of kids, we stop to watch them doing weird acrobatic stunts. It lasts for about 2 minutes and then the crowd applaudes. The lady in front, who was quietly watching, turns around to us and immediately starts to tear off in rapid Flemish.
Wow. The language is completely baffling, especially when someone speaks to you as if you've been speaking the language for years. To this moment, I have absolutely NO idea what she was saying. Not a clue. I couldn't even pick up one word from her sentence. This crazy language doesn't sound like French or German or English but a crazy, haphazard mixture of words, chucked together in a bout of confusing word vomit. However when she spoke it, it was beautiful. She was jovial and happy, laughing heartily through the words, clearly intent on sharing her joy with us. And neither of us had the heart to tell her that we didn't have a hope in hell of translating.
So we listened to her, smiled, laughed together and walked off.
My first conversation in Flemish? More successful than I would have thought.
Wow. The language is completely baffling, especially when someone speaks to you as if you've been speaking the language for years. To this moment, I have absolutely NO idea what she was saying. Not a clue. I couldn't even pick up one word from her sentence. This crazy language doesn't sound like French or German or English but a crazy, haphazard mixture of words, chucked together in a bout of confusing word vomit. However when she spoke it, it was beautiful. She was jovial and happy, laughing heartily through the words, clearly intent on sharing her joy with us. And neither of us had the heart to tell her that we didn't have a hope in hell of translating.
So we listened to her, smiled, laughed together and walked off.
My first conversation in Flemish? More successful than I would have thought.
Moving on.
Leaving Snuffle (the hostel) and its wonderful bar. This is it after breakfast. Night time is a very different story.
Next up, Gent!
Next up, Gent!
Friday, January 6, 2012
In Bruges...
Dear Bruges,
First day as a true homeless traveller and well, you're amazing. Despite the fact that you are colder than the land of polar bears, you are beautiful. I feel like I have stepped back in time. Horse and carriages roam the streets (literally. Clearly no one taught them the road rules) and your beautiful buildings have me smitten with delight. I can't take my eyes off you.
Walking up the Bellfry was an experience. If I had eaten any extra pastries in Paris then I wouldn't fit up. The stairs up are literally like a rock climbing wall. They are so steep that you have to hold onto the stairs in front of you and endure the awkward and problematic scenario that arises when you meet someone on the stairs going the opposite way. But your view is breath taking (and wind chilling, evidence is Nikki's face.)
Those delightful windmills that grace the edge of the inner town were awesome, your veggie burgers are in another world, your obsession with frites (and your obsession with strictly not calling them 'French fries') is amusing, and your chocolate, well, that speaks for itself. (obviously, considering my swiftly burgeoning frame).
Your canals are one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen and the beam of sunlight streaming down onto them makes your town seem a fairy tale.
I'm sorry I laugh every time I hear someone speak Flemish but it sounds like Gibberish and I can't help but giggle. I'm not laughing AT you, in fact I have absolutely no idea what you're saying. I'm also sorry that most people speak perfect English yet I continue to revert to French. Bear with me.
You light up my life (and give me a wonderful store of vitamin D that I had been severely lacking).
Sincerely,
Hanna, your new best friend.
P.S. Thank you for having me and housing me in a 'special' hostel with an affinity for playing loud, inspirational music and a head banging barman.
Bruges, you're dreamy.
First day as a true homeless traveller and well, you're amazing. Despite the fact that you are colder than the land of polar bears, you are beautiful. I feel like I have stepped back in time. Horse and carriages roam the streets (literally. Clearly no one taught them the road rules) and your beautiful buildings have me smitten with delight. I can't take my eyes off you.
Walking up the Bellfry was an experience. If I had eaten any extra pastries in Paris then I wouldn't fit up. The stairs up are literally like a rock climbing wall. They are so steep that you have to hold onto the stairs in front of you and endure the awkward and problematic scenario that arises when you meet someone on the stairs going the opposite way. But your view is breath taking (and wind chilling, evidence is Nikki's face.)
Those delightful windmills that grace the edge of the inner town were awesome, your veggie burgers are in another world, your obsession with frites (and your obsession with strictly not calling them 'French fries') is amusing, and your chocolate, well, that speaks for itself. (obviously, considering my swiftly burgeoning frame).
Your canals are one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen and the beam of sunlight streaming down onto them makes your town seem a fairy tale.
I'm sorry I laugh every time I hear someone speak Flemish but it sounds like Gibberish and I can't help but giggle. I'm not laughing AT you, in fact I have absolutely no idea what you're saying. I'm also sorry that most people speak perfect English yet I continue to revert to French. Bear with me.
You light up my life (and give me a wonderful store of vitamin D that I had been severely lacking).
Sincerely,
Hanna, your new best friend.
P.S. Thank you for having me and housing me in a 'special' hostel with an affinity for playing loud, inspirational music and a head banging barman.
Bruges, you're dreamy.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Life of luxury.
Went to visit our friends apartment and this is the beauty that we were greeted with. Beautiful area, beautiful apartment, beautiful people. Some people really have it all don't they?
Going back to our place felt like a joke. Having your own bed? J.e.a.l.o.u.s.
Going back to our place felt like a joke. Having your own bed? J.e.a.l.o.u.s.
Spotted!
Space Invader. The second time I've seen his trademark since I've been here! Stoked.
This one was at Gare du Nord.
This one was at Gare du Nord.
BONNE ANNÉE!
Two days after New Year's Eve and my life is still all over the place. Not in a hungover, my head feels detached from my body kind of way, more of an 'I will soon be homeless but first am travelling to four countries in under a month', kind of fashion.
Regardless, 2012 has started brilliantly!
The Eve's festivities started with a trip to a friend's appartment on the metro, which was free! It actually makes no difference for me because my Navigo lasts for the entire month, but it was pretty cool to walk straight through the barriers, and even funner to watch all the tourists buy their tickets and try putting them through and seeing their confused faces when their billets came back out at them. Instead of telling them about the temporary free system, we thought it was important that they figured it out for themselves, (because what better way to learn than from your OWN mistakes, right?)...and because it was superbly entertaining. We managed to get on the metro easily, which is not what we expected, thinking that it would be super busy on one of the busiest nights of the year.
What was supposed to be a small gathering at our friend's appartment quickly developed into a test of the floor strength of their wooden wonderland. There was champagne, baguettes, cheese, sneaky photo taking, party hats, christmas crackers and orgasms.... courtesy of the secret santa acquired Orgasmatron, which quickly became a game of who could give the most orgasms throughout the night. I will leave it up to your imagination who won....
Remarkably, there were 10 New Zealander's. Even more remarkably, they were all from Christchurch! How's that for a portrayal of the toll of the earthquakes? Not really, but it was amazing that we completely dominated all the other nationalities there. There were also some Canadians and some American's thrown in for good measure who were incredibly delighted about the Christmas crackers (thanks, Mum!) as they either didn't know what they were or had only seen them once or twice. Their first impression was high too because they were good ones, I got Manuka honey body wash in mine! Not that I won, but it didn't stop me from stealing the contents when the winner's back was turned... just kidding. She was in the bathroom.
The party hats also served a useful purpose, as our group was so large we implemented the number system where everyone numbers off, so as not to lose each other when walking through the streets and navigating our way through the now-bustling metro. However, a combination of wine, crowds, noise and general high spirits made the practicality of numbering off consecutively a little hard for some to master. While we began with 1, 2, 3, it quickly became 7, 21, 13 and by the end we discovered we had either lost or gained three people. Therefore the party hats were much more succesful in keeping an eye on everyone and were easy to spot amongst the classy, well dressed French who saw brightly coloured plastic hats as beneath them.
By the time everyone was out the door of the appartment (it was like herding a large group of badly trained sheep) it was much later than we had anticipated and we ended up walking a, shall we say, interesting, way to the metro (thanks W, nothing like sight seeing the Notre Dame which is completely in the opposite direction of our destination). But we still got to the banks of the Seine bordering the Eiffel with about 45 minutes until the big 1.2.
There were heaps of people who all headed to directly beneath the tour, joining the masses and the freshly filled muddy puddles. We spotted a small stretch of free wall along the Seine and claimed it (almost in the same way that cats and dogs claim their territory thanks to some of the boys..) and were set up with a spectacular view. We were right next to the bridge featured in Inception (the scene when she first discovers that she is in a dream and can create her own world, for those that care) and then the swarms of boats that were darting up and down the Seine all came to a standstill right behind us and signalled that it was almost time.
I got out my bottle of champagne (which was totally amazing, thanks bro) in preparation and wanted to pop it loudly but knew I would screw up so asked one of the boys to instead. Unfortunately he was a bit premature.... Awkward. This definitely created jokes and plenty of teasing. Nevertheless, we tucked into the champagne as the clock struck 12 and the Eiffel lit up and sparkled! Unfortunately there were actually no fireworks from the Eiffel but the people right next to us let off some (which was more scary than exciting) and everyone went crazy! So exciting! Bonne Année all around! We chilled there for awhile, watching the fireworks all around the city and watching the Eiffel sparkle for the first 10 minutes of the New Year!
We made our way down the Seine towards the Champs Elysées and there were people everywhere. So busy. I could hear 'bonne année's' ringing out constantly, unknown new year revellers the friendliest Parisian's I have ever encountered. There was a scary scene under one of the bridges where it appeared someone had dropped/fell off the bridge and there were lots of police around, including some in boats with torches searching through the river. Not so good. We also encountered a very drunk/drugged man who, as we were walking along happened to faceplant directly into a car and then rolled onto the ground right in front of us. Blood everywhere. Luckily, the boys were able to look after him, clean him up a bit and call les pompiers before he got into any more strife. It looked similar to a pumping Thursday night at the Foundry...
There were stalls everywhere selling more champagne, beer and various food and constant traffic jams throughout the centre of the city, with the usual angry French and their constant horn-blaring. We got to the Champs Elysées and it looked like one massive party, people everywhere, and a messy street with the remains of a good time. We walked down the length of it which was filled with police and their intimidating moon boots, space suits and war rifles, but more filled with eager men whose wrath of words and confidence was considerably more frightening. Clearly feeling their time was running out to find a nice woman and instead deciding that the first 30 minutes of 2012 was the perfect time to secure a future wife, the street known for being a tourist mecca soon bathed in a different, more seedy light. Needless to say, it took us a lot longer than it should have to walk down the street.
By the time we reached Place de la Concorde, marriage proposals were no longer rare and I had practiced saying 'piss off' more times than I can count. One such male wouldn't take 'there is no hope in hell that I would ever even consider you' seriously and instead insisted on being exposed to N's wrath. Too bad.
By the time we reached the metro we were exhausted from fighting off men as often as Batman saved Robin and the sight of a massive, bulging crowd of metro go'ers was not ideal. Luckily there was security everywhere and we managed to squeeze ourselves onto an already tight train. I definitely know what cologne the lovely man next to me was wearing. In fact, I probably still smell of it.
Bizarrely, the metro was on some kind of New Year's Eve express service and the metro travelled from Place de la Concorde directly to our stop of Chatelet! Not bad considering it was still free! I have no idea why it hurtled past 5 metro stops and decided to stop at ours but I'm not complaining! We arrived home, completely dead and sweating from the lack of personal space we'd encountered (and the fact that Paris had decide to turn up the heat for the new year, deciding it was going to act like the end of Spring rather than the heart of winter.)
Tomorrow I'm going wine tasting (Tattinger, apparently. Though that could be a sports team for all I know) while hurriedly trying to pack up the accumulating stuff I own and move out of our beloved apartment and pack for our travel.
2012, you're looking pretty good.
Regardless, 2012 has started brilliantly!
The Eve's festivities started with a trip to a friend's appartment on the metro, which was free! It actually makes no difference for me because my Navigo lasts for the entire month, but it was pretty cool to walk straight through the barriers, and even funner to watch all the tourists buy their tickets and try putting them through and seeing their confused faces when their billets came back out at them. Instead of telling them about the temporary free system, we thought it was important that they figured it out for themselves, (because what better way to learn than from your OWN mistakes, right?)...and because it was superbly entertaining. We managed to get on the metro easily, which is not what we expected, thinking that it would be super busy on one of the busiest nights of the year.
What was supposed to be a small gathering at our friend's appartment quickly developed into a test of the floor strength of their wooden wonderland. There was champagne, baguettes, cheese, sneaky photo taking, party hats, christmas crackers and orgasms.... courtesy of the secret santa acquired Orgasmatron, which quickly became a game of who could give the most orgasms throughout the night. I will leave it up to your imagination who won....
Remarkably, there were 10 New Zealander's. Even more remarkably, they were all from Christchurch! How's that for a portrayal of the toll of the earthquakes? Not really, but it was amazing that we completely dominated all the other nationalities there. There were also some Canadians and some American's thrown in for good measure who were incredibly delighted about the Christmas crackers (thanks, Mum!) as they either didn't know what they were or had only seen them once or twice. Their first impression was high too because they were good ones, I got Manuka honey body wash in mine! Not that I won, but it didn't stop me from stealing the contents when the winner's back was turned... just kidding. She was in the bathroom.
The party hats also served a useful purpose, as our group was so large we implemented the number system where everyone numbers off, so as not to lose each other when walking through the streets and navigating our way through the now-bustling metro. However, a combination of wine, crowds, noise and general high spirits made the practicality of numbering off consecutively a little hard for some to master. While we began with 1, 2, 3, it quickly became 7, 21, 13 and by the end we discovered we had either lost or gained three people. Therefore the party hats were much more succesful in keeping an eye on everyone and were easy to spot amongst the classy, well dressed French who saw brightly coloured plastic hats as beneath them.
By the time everyone was out the door of the appartment (it was like herding a large group of badly trained sheep) it was much later than we had anticipated and we ended up walking a, shall we say, interesting, way to the metro (thanks W, nothing like sight seeing the Notre Dame which is completely in the opposite direction of our destination). But we still got to the banks of the Seine bordering the Eiffel with about 45 minutes until the big 1.2.
There were heaps of people who all headed to directly beneath the tour, joining the masses and the freshly filled muddy puddles. We spotted a small stretch of free wall along the Seine and claimed it (almost in the same way that cats and dogs claim their territory thanks to some of the boys..) and were set up with a spectacular view. We were right next to the bridge featured in Inception (the scene when she first discovers that she is in a dream and can create her own world, for those that care) and then the swarms of boats that were darting up and down the Seine all came to a standstill right behind us and signalled that it was almost time.
I got out my bottle of champagne (which was totally amazing, thanks bro) in preparation and wanted to pop it loudly but knew I would screw up so asked one of the boys to instead. Unfortunately he was a bit premature.... Awkward. This definitely created jokes and plenty of teasing. Nevertheless, we tucked into the champagne as the clock struck 12 and the Eiffel lit up and sparkled! Unfortunately there were actually no fireworks from the Eiffel but the people right next to us let off some (which was more scary than exciting) and everyone went crazy! So exciting! Bonne Année all around! We chilled there for awhile, watching the fireworks all around the city and watching the Eiffel sparkle for the first 10 minutes of the New Year!
We made our way down the Seine towards the Champs Elysées and there were people everywhere. So busy. I could hear 'bonne année's' ringing out constantly, unknown new year revellers the friendliest Parisian's I have ever encountered. There was a scary scene under one of the bridges where it appeared someone had dropped/fell off the bridge and there were lots of police around, including some in boats with torches searching through the river. Not so good. We also encountered a very drunk/drugged man who, as we were walking along happened to faceplant directly into a car and then rolled onto the ground right in front of us. Blood everywhere. Luckily, the boys were able to look after him, clean him up a bit and call les pompiers before he got into any more strife. It looked similar to a pumping Thursday night at the Foundry...
There were stalls everywhere selling more champagne, beer and various food and constant traffic jams throughout the centre of the city, with the usual angry French and their constant horn-blaring. We got to the Champs Elysées and it looked like one massive party, people everywhere, and a messy street with the remains of a good time. We walked down the length of it which was filled with police and their intimidating moon boots, space suits and war rifles, but more filled with eager men whose wrath of words and confidence was considerably more frightening. Clearly feeling their time was running out to find a nice woman and instead deciding that the first 30 minutes of 2012 was the perfect time to secure a future wife, the street known for being a tourist mecca soon bathed in a different, more seedy light. Needless to say, it took us a lot longer than it should have to walk down the street.
By the time we reached Place de la Concorde, marriage proposals were no longer rare and I had practiced saying 'piss off' more times than I can count. One such male wouldn't take 'there is no hope in hell that I would ever even consider you' seriously and instead insisted on being exposed to N's wrath. Too bad.
By the time we reached the metro we were exhausted from fighting off men as often as Batman saved Robin and the sight of a massive, bulging crowd of metro go'ers was not ideal. Luckily there was security everywhere and we managed to squeeze ourselves onto an already tight train. I definitely know what cologne the lovely man next to me was wearing. In fact, I probably still smell of it.
Bizarrely, the metro was on some kind of New Year's Eve express service and the metro travelled from Place de la Concorde directly to our stop of Chatelet! Not bad considering it was still free! I have no idea why it hurtled past 5 metro stops and decided to stop at ours but I'm not complaining! We arrived home, completely dead and sweating from the lack of personal space we'd encountered (and the fact that Paris had decide to turn up the heat for the new year, deciding it was going to act like the end of Spring rather than the heart of winter.)
Tomorrow I'm going wine tasting (Tattinger, apparently. Though that could be a sports team for all I know) while hurriedly trying to pack up the accumulating stuff I own and move out of our beloved apartment and pack for our travel.
2012, you're looking pretty good.
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