Friday Night no Lights

I knew I was pushing my luck. I should have been happy the first hostel experience worked out so well and left it at that. But nay, I thought I would try it again in Paris. So far, I am thinking this is a mistake.


Which brings me to my current hostel - 3 ducks. Well, let's start with the fact that check in as at the bar. And the court yard in the middle of the rooms is an extension of the bar. So as I lie in my bunk, I might as well be in the middle of the bar. When I came in the room, there were 5 people already sleeping, so I had to make my bed in the dark. That's when I remembered my blackberry. In case of emergency, it doubles as a flashlight - they should include that in their marketing materials. I'm sure I'm physically safe, but there are no lockers, so I'm hoping the best for my things.

So, to give you a clear picture, I am typing this in my bunk in a room with 8 beds, some full, listening to the bar at full blast. Two people just got into the bunk bed above me and I'm thinking it might collapse on me in me sleep, or worse, I'll hear more than the noise from the bar!

I'm thinking the dark might be a blessing because the cleanliness of the room is surely suspect. Can't say I'm expecting a great night sleep because now I have one thought that I can't get out of my head... bed bugs.

I'm too old for this. I'm checking into a nice hotel tomorrow.

London Baby!

Well, that's what Joey said on "Friends" and since this about friends visiting, well.....

It is hard to imagine a more beautiful weekend in London - unless you have great friends in town that make it even better! Sorry this entry is a bit late. I could think of a really good excuse, but it would be a lie. I got nothing.

So last Thursday, Kelley and her mom, Ellen, came to London to visit. However, they were slightly delayed at Heathrow at immigration. Just kidding, they were stalled at baggage claim. Or in Ellen's case, no baggage claim. Her bags didn't make the flight, so they hopped on the train and I met them on the way to my flat. After a scenic tour through the posh 'hood of Bethnal Green, I headed back to work and they slept off some jetlag. They were able to rally and meet me after work for a pint in a local pub and then some dinner. We took the long way home through the notorious Brick Lane and called it a night. Still no bags for Ellen.

Friday found me back at work (what a bother - always seems to get in the way) while Kell and Ellen headed down to the west where Kell had rented a room in the easy-to-find Best Western so that we would be central to all the things we wanted to do. This wasn't like any Best Western I had stayed at - our room was beautiful. After work, I met them and we headed out. Not sure if this is uniquely London, but it was pretty common to order a beer and then take it outside and drink it on the sidewalk, or in our case, then a dead end street. It looked like a regular Chicago street fair with everyone drinking in the streets. After, we decided that proper English fish and chips were in order. Then back to the hotel - still no bags.

Saturday was probably the prettiest day in London history - mid 70's and blue skies. Perfect for an open top bus tour (which I had been dieing to do since I got to London, but was waiting until I had the excuse of "tourists"). We also visited the famous Harrods for a little shopping and general ogling. There was a display of shoes that I might think about well into my nineties. To wrap a great day, we squeezed a little thee-ah-ter. "We will rock you" a musical based on the lyrics of Queen. It was a blast. Entertaining? Absolutely. Great music? Of course. Great plot? Umm, did I mention how great the music was?

Of course, all that being rocked made us hungry. So we headed for a little post theater meal. At this point, it might be pertinent to mention I had 3 glasses of wine during the show (only to catch up with Kell and Ellen who did a little pre-funking at the Manchester United game earlier). Well, we thought we found a happening little Greek place for dinner, but there was so much going on, I think the waiters forgot they served food. It was like walking into a Greek wedding - within minutes, we were dancing on the chairs. The highlight was the belly dancer. The 3 of us were mesmerized. I have bad news for anyone who has vested time in helping me with my career - I'm quitting to become a belly dancer. Don't try and talk me out of it. It was the best free entertainment I've ever had! Although we tried, we never got around to ordering anything. And that's all I can write about the Greek place - all other details are property of an ironclad pact the 3 of us made as we left. But you think that was the end of the night? No way. Kell and I hit a couple of clubs in Soho to finish off the night. Much fun was had, but still no bags.

Sunday, we headed pack to my flat to drop some thhings and headed straight out again to do Spitalfields and the London Eye. We had some transportation challenges, but towards the end of the day, we happily ended up finding our way to the lovely convent garden area and some sublime dining. We were pretty wiped by early evening called it an early night. You guessed it, no bags.

Monday, work got in the way for me again, but they headed to Oxford Street and did some power shopping. Meeting me at St. Paul’s after work, we took in a scenic walk of the church and headed over Millennium Bridge. We had some wine at a place on the south bank of the Thames (which I have learned is pronounced Timmes). One thing that made itself obvious to all of us was that service in London is pretty bad. There is a reason tipping is not common here. Heaven forbid you need your server between the time they take your order and drop off the check.

So we get back to my place on Monday night and there is message on my machine from Kelley's dad "Hi girls. I just got a call from United. They found the bag. It's still in South Carolina." Of course it was found because they were heading home the next day!

Graffiti

Everywhere. That was my first impression of Prague. It could have to do with the fact that I didn't plan well and didn't give any thought how to get to my hostel from the airport (and since my Czech is a little rusty and all of the signs were in Czech, I really blame myself for not doing one iota of research beforehand) so I ended up taking the very, very long route to get there. I'm sure I saw the worst first, because it proved to be a beautiful city. Many times I looked up towards the castle and thought that the city was built to look like a perfect postcard. Beautiful. The reason that Prague has such a medieval feel is that during WWII, it was captured early by the Germans, so there wasn't a lot of damage done by them, and it was too hard to get to (and really not a strategic target) so the allies didn't really bomb it either, so much of the ancient architecture remained in tact.

Feel as though you had your history lesson? Now the good stuff.

After getting to my hostel and taking a quick power nap, I then headed into the main part of the city to do a little sightseeing. As I was walking towards the Charles bridge, I met a couple of American guys going the same way and ended up hanging out with them for the next few hours while we saw the bridge and then retired to a patio near the bridge on the river Vltava. It was one of those great afternoons where you are sitting outside with a drink and just really enjoying the scenery. It would be wrong to not partake in the famous Czech beer, which I’ve heard to be the elixir of life. After a couple of beers, Lauren (an Aussie I had met on the bus from the airport) joined me and we continued to wander around for a couple of hours and grabbed some dinner. We then met up with another Aussie we had met on the bus and some of here friends. The rest of the evening is a bit blurry – I’m having vague memories of a cocktail ounge, meeting back up with the American guys from earlier, a Cuban place with great mojitos, and a scary tram ride back to my hostel. All in all, a pretty good first day.

So I stayed in a hostel for the first time and it wasn't so bad at all. Especially for the price - I think I paid $75 for 3 nights. The hostel is Plus Prague, and although it is a little out of the way, it is really, really clean. Probably because it opened last week. Despite the opening chaos, I would definitely recommend it. Part of the reason I chose to stay in a hostel was to find other people to hang with while in a strange city and it proved to be a good idea. There were all kinds of people, mostly traveling students. First time I've woken up to a strange man with zero guilt. I'm kidding Mom – just trying to be funny. One of the people in my room was a guy who wasn't there when I fell asleep on the first night, but when I woke up, he was in the bed next to me. We actually chatted for a couple of hours in the morning after the 2 Canadian girls woke up and left at 7 in the morning to go sightseeing. Damn Canadians. Anyway, he was the third Aussie I'd met in one day (yes, Ron, I know what you're thinking) and was quite a nice guy. I’m definitely glad I decided to go the hostel route on this trip.

Saturday I was a bit lazy for awhile and played tourist mostly. I really needed some relaxation after the last 6 weeks of crazy hours. The good news is the project I was working on launched last Monday - my company has officially renamed ourselves globally - Cision! I’m happy about the rebrand because 1) I no longer work for a company named after a pork product 2) It will be much easier to work globally under 1 name instead of a dozen plus names 3) this project was part of the reason I got to work in Europe. Sorry to throw in that little bit of work.

So, on Saturday night, I went on a pub crawl with the people in my hostel.The first bar we went to was the first capitalist bar to open in 1989 after the fall of communism. Pretty cool, but besides the history and the eclectic, authentic characters, a regular kind of pub. The second pub was pretty unassuming as you enter, but deceptive. Head towards the back and go downstairs - it goes on forever. A sort of catacombs of rooms. I think it was appropriately called Cave bar. Very cool – and I think my beer cost about $1.60.

But by far one of the coolest things I have ever seen is the third bar – Cross Club. It is almost indescribable, but I will do my best. I had seen it a few times passing by it on the tram, but I thought the entrance was just a random piece of art – it was this huge metal structure that sort of looked like the insides of a clock; I had no idea there was actually anything else back there. But there DEFINITELY was. The inside reminded me of some bar you would find in a Star Wars movie - I kept expecting to see Jabba the Hut in one of the many, many, many rooms of this place (what can I say, I was raised with all boy cousins and a brother, I know my Star Wars). I didn’t think I could get any decent pics that night, so I just stole some off of their site. I’m sure that I completely looked like a tourist because my mouth was probably gaping open the whole time. It was spectacular.

Prague is one of those cities that seem to have a dual personality. On one side, it is this very romantic, beautiful city that seems caught in a moment in time with its beautiful light and cobblestone streets. On the other side, it has this sort of seedy under belly from a history full of oppression and violence. Just as some people are very simple while others are incredibly complex, Prague strikes me as an incredibly complex place. I imagine that it would take a person years and years of living there to really understand it. I sure wouldn’t presume to have gotten more than a mere taste of it.

Girl off an old Brick Lane

Warning: lots of melancholy and little humor in this entry, read at the risk of needing a stiff drink afterward
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A little honesty. I would be enjoying London much more with some friends. I'm usually fiercely independent, but to be honest, I am a bit ill of my own company. I have been wandering around Spitalfields market which is absolutely brilliant and enjoying the sites (Great suggestion Laura!!), but I am having a little friend envy. I can be anti-social for weeks at a time back home and pass it off as charmingly reclusive (well, I know Kelley doesn’t find it at all charming, just reclusive :-).

But it's nice to have the option of calling a friend for brunch. There are some wonderful looking restaurants throughout the market, but I'm disinclined to get a table for one. Don't get me wrong, I know many you are saying "it's okay to sit at a table for one Michelle.". It isn't that I think there is some kind social stigma or that I would care if there were, it's that I am just sick of my own stories and thoughts. It would be nice to hear someone else go on for awhile. I never really thought of myself as a person that needs too many others around, but I am learning that I am no Henry David and Bethnal Green isn't Walden. However, being the trained debater I am, I would argue that it might have been easier for him since he wasn't constantly surrounded by thousands of cheerful people. I know that I am using a bit of literally license by calling Londoners a cheerful lot. Well-dressed, polite, smart, lovely accents and vocabularies, and cosmopolitan? Yes. Excessively cheerful? No.

I digress. I'm a bit lonely in London. I guess stoicism isn't my mood du jour. I want to leave London hating to leave, but I am not exactly having that experience right now. Sorry to dribble a bit of real life into my normally hysterical journal -)

I blame it on Tennessee Williams. As I was a bit at odds last night, I thought I would go down to the theater district and see if I could grab a seat to something. I was in a hurry because I didn't really get to the area until about 7:35 and most curtain calls are 7:30 or 8. At about 7:58, I saw the awning for Cabaret, so I thought "perfect.". I went to the box office, bought a ticket and made it just in time. I sat down and looked at my ticket. Guess what it said? Glass Menagerie. The theatres are right next to each other and I went to the wrong box office!1 For the same uplifting experience, I could have counseled little boys who had just lost their puppies or had a drink with a bride recently left at the alter. Good times. The guy in front of me fell asleep. What's her name was in it. If anyone out there thinks that Mr. Williams is a genius, would you mind sending me an email and explaining why? Bueller, Bueller?

Ergo, I blame my disheartened state on Tennessee. Maybe someone will turn my blog into a play and I'll at least make loads of money.

I hope no one misconstrues the above as complaining, as it is really just a mix of a slight homesickness and melancholy. I really, really do appreciate what an awesome opportunity this is. I also don't want any of the lovely Brits I have met think that your hospitality isn't fully appreciated - exactly the contrary, it is GREATLY appreciated.

Note added 20 minutes after post went live: The neighbor who helped me out on during my lockout adventure below stopped by to say hello. See - things are picking up already. Thanks for peaking in Patrick - look forward to grabbing a cuppa.

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1 Despite the evidence of almost every entry, I am not the dumbest person ever (Please, someone corroborate!), I just occasionally make silly mistakes and feel the need to publish them to the world! I'm not even going to go into how I locked myself out of my flat last week and had to call my brother in Seattle so he could google the number of a locksmith in London. And it gave me a excuse to meet one of my neighbors who lent me his yellow pages and keys so I wouldn't be locked in the stairwell - MUCH appreciated. Now three hours on your porch on a Saturday night - that's how we roll in London.

Equal

If I were a better person, I would probably be talking about rights. Alas, that's another blog another time. This time I'm talking about the sweetener - the one that will probably give me cancer. I miss it. I've always turned my nose up at Sweet n' Low and real sugar. My morning tea just doesn't taste the same without it. However, I have found comfort in another. I am having a brief affair with a new sweet sensation. The Choco Liebniz. Not since the double-stuff Oreo has there been such cookie perfection. And they come in Dark chocolate.

Sorry for the trite diatribe. I would love to bore you with my weekend in some exotic place where I was the only blond for miles and high fashion is a grass skirt, but the extent of my travels this weekend were Richmond and Chelsea - and neither lacked blondes or exotic fashions. Although I didn't see much of Richmond because of the prime and proximate restaurant locale to the train station, it was lovely having dinner with Greg and Nicola. I think I followed the story of how they met, but I might need to see a visio doc showing the common friends so I get the story straight:-) Thanks for dinner - can't wait to see the markets or Mick Jagger's house.

Chelsea was nice and I had breakfast at a wonderful, but very yuppie, place called Baker & Spice http://www.bakerandspice.com/. It was much like being on the upper east side in Manhattan. It was also "Mum's Day" here on Sunday - so a belated shout-out to my Mum (although I really have until May, so please don't ask where your card is...postage is expensive here and the pub tab doesn't pay itself:-)

You might have noticed that I'm going on a bit without a whole lot to say. I am ever so slyly trying to conceal the fact that work has overwhelmed the last week and left me a bit too tired to do much exploring. Warning - brace yourselves for a lack of posts over the next few weeks as work will become all consuming. You like how I say that as if anyone is going to notice the lack of posts. Technorati doesn't even know I have a blog:-)

April 2nd is almost like a mantra that I and others in my company's marketing departments keep telling ourselves. "April 2, April 2, April 2" That is the launch date of this project I am working on and it can't get here soon enough.

Anyway, that's sadly all. If the next post proves to be as boring, I promise to just make crap up.

Luckiest girl in the world

City I most wanted to visit: Amsterdam
Concert I most wanted to see: Dave Matthews
Preferred venue for afore mentioned concert: Small, renovated church that seats 1,000
Preferred format: accoustic

Despite all of the trouble I have gone through in the last few months, it is offically all worth it. Anything else from here is gravy. I had, by far, the most serendipitous experience while here in Amsterdam. After arriving Friday night, I heard that Dave Matthews was playing at a small venue on Saturday night, but that it was also the fastest selling ticket in Amsterdam history selling out in 5 minutes. I thought carma owed me a few favors for the last few months and since I had no real plans Saturday night, I thought I would walk over to the Paradiso and see if I could scalp a ticket. Now by nature, I'm an optimist, but I really didn't have any false expecations of getting a ticket - they were going for $450 on ebay.

For some of my older friends and family who might be wondering who Dave Matthews is, he is the Beatles of my, and many of my generation's, heart. If you replace the name Dave Matthews with Beatles when reading the entry, you might understand what a big deal this is. He sells out 60,000 seat venues across the U.S. every summer. He isn't a pop star by any means though since he's 41 and I have been listening to him for at least 12-13 years.

And I got a ticket. There were only 1000 to start. And I got a ticket.

Not only was it my first Dave Matthews show (even though I have been trying for years, albeit half-heartly, and never been able to go to one) but it was the perfect place in the perfect city and it was accoustic. Just Dave on stage with Tim Reynolds and their guitars. I was about 50 feet away from the stage. If this were a major venue, it would have been like being row 10.

This beats going to a Scottish ball any day of the year.

Let me preface with what an understatement the next sentence is going to be. It was awesome. One of the best experiences in my life.

If you are ever in Amsterdam and one of your favorite musicians of all time happens to be there playing accoustically for an intimate audience, I highly recomend you go.

I keep thinking of the word serendipity. I once heard that serendipity is a berry 1000 times sweeter than sugar - that is what last night was. "Life is short but sweet for certain"

My video of the show didn't turn out great, but here is a great clip someone else posted on youtube...

P.S. It happened. I was outside the Paradiso waiting to get in and was talking to some people from Michigan and Florida. One of the women made a comment about how bad the food in Amsterdam (which is amazing compared to London - sorry London). She said "the hamburgers are awful, like sausage patties." And that's when I thought it... "That's so American."

Marry me Amsterdam

Do you remember when you were a little kid and you would say "I love ice cream" and then your smart-ass friend, brother, sister, etc would reply "why don't you marry it then?" Well, that's how I feel about Amsterdam. Not the smart-ass part, but the marrying part. I want to marry Amsterdam. I love this city!

By far my favorite European city so far and hard to imagine another I will fall for as hard in my future travels. I can't explain exactly why - it just has an essence about it that makes me want to sell all of my things (except of course my shoes - that would be crazy talk), put the dogs on a plane, and move here. Most Americans just think of Amsterdam as the epicenter of legal vices, but that isn't it at all. (Ok - maybe a teeny,weeny little bit of it).

It is a beautiful city with a live and let live attitude. Without being even more dramatic, it was a bit like finding "the one." You don't know why they're the one, you just know it. That's how I felt. The only problem, of course, would be that it would feed my little addiction problem. My close and personal friends know the one. No, not the shoe one. The french fry one. The best french fries/pomme frites I've ever had were here (sorry I topped them with ketchup Stephen - I know I looked like an American).

They also drive on the right side of the road, but if I move here, no car for me, I'm buying a bike and a rowboat. Now I've found the city I love, I just need to find a cute Dutchman with a big enough houseboat for me, Ithaca, and Avery. UK immigration has nothing to worry about now... If I were going to illegally migrate, it would be Holland all the way.

Some of the highlights: flower markets, the canals, red light district, pomme frites and pancakes, Dutch masters, houseboats, and liberals.

Check out my message at the Van Gogh museum (although the end got cut off)
http://vangoghen.bitmove.tv:80/bitmove/vangoghen/index.jsp?uid=32E02F21B518F666377ADB68AD8307BA&format=WMV