Markus and Brian's Excellent European Adventure

No treaty for us

Hello there peoples,

After clubbing Brian over the head and kind of propping him upright, I've managed to get a picture of the two American girls (Lindsay and Carrie) with us. I shall post it later, but rest assured that the your thirst for the photos will be quenched.

To get to current events, we all went to Versailles together today and as far as I'm concerned it was one of the highlights of the trip so far. The huge mansion was thoroughly impressive by itself, but what really got to all of us in the end were the gardens.

At first sight, you think that it's nice, but nothing spectacular. There's your usual fountains, trees and symetrically cut bushes, but the fountains weren't spraying any water and the place looked kind of small from the entrance. What we didn't notice until later is that there were a whole bunch of small paths that ran from the central area to other parts of the the gardens, with more fountains, and even though they still weren't functioning this made things a little more interesting. After having some lunch and exploring the smaller, but still beautiful, hidden areas of the garden we decided to lounge around for a little while and thought about leaving.

Now at this point it doesn't sound like there's much to this place, and that's exactly what we were thinking, but at about 3:30 we hear an announcement come on in bad broken French followed by bad broken English, informing us that the fountains were going to come on and music was going to get played. As soon as the lady on the speaker had decided that she had massacred both languages enough, all the fountains around us burst into life and classical music began wafting through the air. I don't know about the others, but for me the effect was almost intoxicating. Suddenly the atmosphere in the gardens transformed itself completely and instead of feeling like I was in one of France's largest tourist traps I found myself strolling in a court worthy of kings and queens. I closed my eyes and felt it all wash over me and for a few moments, let myself get lost in the moment. Maybe it was just that we weren't expecting that much and ended up getting something good out of it, but this has got to be one of my favourite moments of the trip thus far.

Aside from that we're getting ready to head out on a night train to Munich. From there we'll try to get as close to Mauern as we can and then we'll either call my Aunt Christine for a ride or just take a bus or something.

Thanks for all your comments. They're entertaining as usual and keep us in the mood to do this thing.

Take it easy,

Markus

Branché

There's been so much written, poeticized, sung, and filmed about Paris; we were doing our best to keep our expectations in check. But Paris is simply fantastic. There are only a handful of truly breathtaking views and sites around the city, I think, but an unlimited supply of areas that just charm you to the bone with simple aesthetic beauty. It seems that throughout most of the city, there's a certain energy and excitement that fills the air. It's tough to put your finger on, but if it was easy to describe, there wouldn't be so much romance about all things Paris. Us cynical, jaded Canucks are enchanted, and we're more than happy to go along for the ride.

(Yes, there are pictures; ignore my gushing rambling and scroll down if you want to see them.)

Our first few days were a little occupied trying to deal with the administration of recovering Markus' Eurail pass, but boy did we walk about the city. We've strolled through pretty much every part of town by now; it's incredible to see such a bustling, multi-cultural (though we hear there's a lot of latent intolerance between the whites and the French South Africans), modern, vibrant society in the middle of such a historic city, with ancient relics everywhere. Toronto is just so 100-years-young, you know? We wandered onto the Ile de la Cité, a tiny island on the Seine river that was the entirety of Paris in 50 A.D. Nearby was the Cathedral of Notre-Dame, which was far more massive than we expected.

We also walked the much-recommended straight-line route from the Arc du Triomphe down the Champs D'Elysse, through le Place de la Concorde, through the beautiful Jardin du Something-Or-Other, right to the massive Louvre. Stun-ing. The Place de la Concorde is a massive square filled with another dizzing array of traffic. There's a 3300 year old Egyptian obelisk rising high from the center (a gift from Egypt in the 19th century), and many people were executed in the square in the past, including Marie-Antoinette and King Louis Part Sixteen. We tried to soak in as much as we could and imagine such events taking place years ago in the very spots we stood. Then we went to drink.

Paris, and most places in Europe, tolerates (or encourages?) drinking in the streets. So we sat by a nice fountain near the Hostel (on a picturesque, shop-lined street called Moufftard, or just le Mouff') and had a small amount of supermarket-bought wine with a girl from London, Ontario and a funny bloke from Australia. Markus drank more than others, of course. One thing we noticed is that every young woman in Paris seems to be sexy and attractive. Refined and classy, too; if she's not, she's a tourist. The guys, on the other hand, don't make too much of an effort to present themselves; it's like they're just sitting back and enjoying the show. We tried to find any exception to the rule, but we couldn't; my theory, widely accepted that evening, is that they ship the ugly girls down the river to Germany.

We saw the Eiffel Tower, of course, which was much less of a tourist trap than I was expecting. Very beautiful view from above, and Paris is far larger than we realized. And, as Markus described, we saw the Louvre (see many pics below). The special exhibit there on display for now was on Leonardo da Vinci. The sketches, drawings, and books this fellow wrote were astounding. There's brains, there's art, but then there's da Vinci, who delivers the two together into a one-two punch that leaves you reeling.

Fun experience at the Louvre: While waiting on a bench for Markus in the underground pyramid main entrance area, two Polish high school girls sitting beside me struck up a conversation. They could barely speak a word of English, and all I could say in Polish was "Yes" and "Good morning". It was a conversation filled with a lot of arm-waving gestures and pointing, but they eventually got across what town they were from (pointing it out on my guidebook map), that they were there for 6 days with their school, and that they loved Paris. They were so excited when I explained I was half-Polish, and couldn't stop thanking me when I gave them both Canadian pins we brought on the trip for people we met. They took turns taking pictures of themselves with me, and seemed very disappointed when Markus arrived and we left for lunch.

There are all sorts of experiences from Paris I'm leaving out from here (such as showing two interesting and wet-behind-the-ears American girls some of the sights, and getting lost more often than I'd like to admit, and...well, other little experiences!) but in the interest of time and space, I'll get onto the pictures. We're still experiencing issues with the software, and I'll simply link to the photos this time around. We should have a good opportunity to spruce up the ol' blog when we're in Germany in a few days. And, we know everyone can't wait for more photos; we'll post them as often as we can, but many internet cafes are very streamlined (monitor and a keyboard) and don't have anywhere to hook up the camera. Oh, and Markus is drunk -- there's no photoshopping on these or any photos, really, just the occasional rotation. Not that they couldn't use a bunch of touching up...

Pictures

Down with the Man!

Hey there peoples,

The last couple of days have been very interesting. The weather has continued to be nice, so that's good, but now instead of having problems with the gods, we're experiencing difficulties with the mortals. As it turns out half the city is on strike, and as it turns out, if there's one thing that French people are really good at, it's not working (which might explain a local law that states the work-week can be no longer than 37 hours). This makes it difficult for would-be museum goers like us to get into places, because instead of being greeting by a smilling lady who says, "Give me your money" and us saying, "OK." we get to stare at a sign that says, "The museum is closed indefinitely". No lady, no money, no entry. Since Indiana Jones would never break into a museum unless he had a good reason, I had to bow my head in disappointment and walk away from both the Louvre and the Museum d'Orseille yesterday. Since Paris had turned its back on me, I decided to do the same by going to see X-Men 2. Now, I know that some of you out there want to kill me for this blasphemous act. I know some of you are thinking, "You're in Paris, one of the most beautiful cities in the world, it's nice and sunny after hearing you complain for a week about rain and NOW you go to see a movie!!!" To you people I say, "Yes. Yes I did." And you know what? I liked it a lot. so there!

Anyways, today we did get into the Louvre and all I could think at first is, "Holly cow, this place is gi-normous." We spent about 6 hours there and I think I saw maybe half the museum. My favourite part were some of the french sculptures made in the 1700s based on greek mythology, specifically those made as Diploma projects by the few artists who were seeking entrance to the Royal Academy and attained it. Man, I feel like I should be swirling some brandy in a glass while wearing a monacle and twirling my moustache. I think I need a punch, as Heather would say.

Well, I should let you people go now. We have heard your cries for photos and we will deliver tonight in a posting that will be put up slightly later by Brian. He's fevererishly working to make them all look slightly better by thouching them up in photoshop, even though I fear only he will be able to tell the difference in the end. Alas, the work of a perfectionist is never done.

Take it easy,

Markus

Paris Sucks

Nooo, I'm just kidding. It was our first nice and sunny day and I could think of no place better to spend it. Paris is without a doubt one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited. We took the subway to the giant Arch de Triumph and then leisurely strolled around Paris for hours. The only thing more impressive than the beauty of Paris is the reckless abandon of the drivers. The Arch is at the centre of a huge intersection where 12 roads merge into one giant circle. There are no signs, no traffic lights and no lines on the road, just madness. I instantly had a flashback of Frogger (a video game back in the day) and with the amount of mopeds and small motor bikes here, I'm surprised that there aren't more messy bloodstains on the road. One particular guy who apparently does not crave the continuation of life like the rest of us was on a moped navigating the vehiclular gauntlet-o-death while on a cell phone. After that I would not have been surprised to see a bear driving a taxi.

In general, it was a nice and relaxing day. We're planning on taking some photos tonight and then we'll taunt you all some more with how wonderfull a time we're having by showing them to you.

Hope things are going great, wherever you may be and don't forget to take it easy.

Markus

Brussels - Part Deux

Hello all you lovely people,

I warn you now, this is going to be a big posting so make sure you have some coffee or tea or something before reading it becuase a lot of things have happened between the last time we posted and today.

Firstly, the rest of our time in Bruges went well, even with the rain. We met another fellow Canadian from Edmonton and this guy was a HUGE Oilers fan (Hockey, for all you non-Canadians). He had the shirt, the hat, pins, stickers and I'm pretty sure he had some tattoos somewhere which we, thankfully, were spared from seing. The guy, aside from his obsession, seemed very nice and so when we decided to go out to this place called the Lucifernum (a cool bar we had heard about) we thought it would be alright to let him come along.

Every time we leave a hostel to walk to a place I do a double take. Bruges really is amazing with it's preserved buildings and winding streets, so just walking to the Lucifernum gets us in the adventuring mood. It's good that we were in an adventuring mood, because in the windows was an odd assortment of wooden puppets which ranged from 1930s style black servants to to small frail china dolls with cracks running down their faces. It looked like something out of "The Temple of Doom", and since I like to pretend in my head that I'm really Indiana Jones, I decided to check it out. Although there weren't any weird priest people ripping hearts out of other people's chests, the rest of the Bar wasn't any less creepy, with carved heads of classic movie monsters everywhere and the main host dressed up as Dracula. All this was very dark and moody, but what really made us scream in terror were the price of the drinks in this place. Being the starving students that we are, we ordered one drink each, sipped each drop as if it were the last liquid left on this earth and then left peacfully and went back to the hostel to get some sleep.

After taking the train back to Brussels in the morning we went back to the extra cool hostel there, the Van Gogh. Generally, we relaxed most of the day, did some laundry and mentally prepared ourselves for our first night of European clubbing. As evening fell, we decided that we'd head out a little early so that we could check out a jazz festival that was in town, maybe go to a cafe or bar and then we'd hit the club.

Now, I know that our friend, Mr. William Shakespeare taught us the valuable lesson that blaming the gods for our problems is not a reasonable thing to do. At this point, however, I am convinced that if there is a god of rain then he has most likely been reading our postings and is amusing himself by torturing us puny mortals. The moment we walk out of the hostel, and I'm talking about seconds here, it starts to come down, and this time it isn't trickling, it's showering hard. This is when something dawned upon me. You see, I have never felt the need to carry an umbrella. I mean, it's only water, right? So you get a little wet. What's the big deal. Well, apparently I missed the Sesame Street episode when Big Bird explains the very complex and intricate concept that cold and wet = BAAaad. Dry and warm = Good. Maybe it's the rampant stupidity that is embedded in youth, maybe it's the testosterone of the young male (in which case, the stupidity clause still applies) but nontheless, I have now seen the error of my ways. This did not stop me from getting cold and wet on the way to the jazz festival, and let it be known that were it not for Brian's insistance that we tough it out, I most likely would have gone home defeated by our avid reader, Mr. Rain God.

Anyways, getting back on track here, after staying at the jazz festival only long enough to realize that they were in the middle of changing bands, we decided to go to the club. After a short while of walking we arrived, cold and wet (which is Bad) and realized that it would not open for another hour (which is worse). Seeing the poor state we were in and realizing that we were still in the young and stupid phase of life, the owner of the place took pity on us and decided that we could sit inside the main door until the place opened. This made us quite happy, since it would give us a chance to dry off and at the same time gave us the amusement of watching two huge and burly bouncers kiss each other on the cheeck in true Brussels greeting tradition.

Alright people, this is the point where everyone over thirty and not interested in clubs can begin pre-emptively shacking their heads slowly from side to side. The club was amazing. Not only was the DJ spinning extremely good music, but the entire atmosphere of the club was completely different from that of the north american experience. People here were not at the club to impress or intimidate or to fight, they were there for only two reasons, to drink and to dance... okay three reasons to drink to dance and to pick up if possible (things aren't THAT different after all). Overall people were simply more friendly. They let you by if you had to get somewhere, they smiled back at you if you made eye-contact and all in all, they seemed to be there to have a good time. In short, I loved it.

Anyways, it's time to wrap this monstrosity of a posting up. We travelled to Paris today and plan to start seeing the sights tomorrow. On the way I lost both my journal with all its entries thus far and my eurorail pass which was hidden inside. I'm not sure if it was stolen or if I misplaced it, but I have insurance for the pass, so getting a replacement won't be that hard. The journal doesn't bug me that much either, since I've got these postings and since it's only been 6 days. It's a good lesson to learn early on in the trip, though. Maybe it'll sink in a little better than those Sesame Street shows.

Take it easy people and thanks for all your comments,

Markus

P.S. Paris is supposed to be partially cloudy and sunny tomorrow. I beg of you Mr. Rain God, show us some mercy. I know it's fun to pick on the French, but please wait until we're gone...

E-see ah Paari

I'll rush to get this entry out before Markus finishes his, but it might be hard; he's drinking like crazy and types much faster with some nice 1-Euro Jupiter beers in him. (Well, he could be slowed down by the two women on his legs; Mikey, you're right, he's a terrible influence.)

I'm starting to realize just how long 3 months is. Whenever we talk about our trip to fellow travellers, they always balk. "Three months! Wow! We're only here for a few weeks. What a long time! How can you afford it?" (Supermarket meals and black-market kidney sales.) "Where are you going?" (Everywhere and anywhere.) "Won't you miss people back home?" (...Yes.)

I never really considered just what my reasons and goals for backpacking Europe were before I left. I just always figured it'd be an amazing experience, and I had to do it for personal self-growth, but now that I'm here I really need to sit down and figure out just what I'm hoping to get out of it. And part of that realization, and the homesickness, is thinking that what I'm getting out of this trip will be outweighed, at some point down the road, by an overwhelming desire to experience my time at home. I know that time won't come anytime too soon, but it may come sooner than I'm expecting. I'm sure I'll get over this initial homesickness, too.

Well, one very interesting thing we did last night was stop in a little bar on our way to the Fuse nightclub. This place was amazing. First we're travelling down a dark, narrow street surrounded by tall buildings hundreds of years old, dodging the occasional car as it bounces down the cobblestone road glistened by rain. Then we turn into this odd-looking bar on a whim. The bar was amazing; very dark, some coloured lighting, filled with tons of knick-knacks collected over the years (and none of that catalog-ordered 'ambiance' you find so much of in Canada, I'm guessing). [Ed note: He's becoming a European snob already!] We ordered some drinks and explored. Very low ceilings, very small place, but packed with young locals. We ventured upstairs a narrow, wooden spiral staircase to several couch-filled areas. The walls were covered with all sorts of portraits and Impressionist-style paintings. One couch area in the back had a young couple just lounging together in the dark red light on a curved couch. We headed up another half-level (there was so little rhyme or reason to the layout in this dark place) and just had a drink in the most relaxed area we could find. Granted, lots of smoke (everyone in Europe smokes), but the haze only added to the mystique. It struck me as the perfect, most genuine place for a romantic date.

Anyway, Markus will cover the rest in his inimitable crazy German style. Enjoy.

All Wet

Markus again nicely summarizes our time currently in Bruges, but I wanted to add a few small points:

* I saw another sex-driven advertisement. These highly amuse me. It's a jeans store, and their ad -- in fact, their whole logo -- is a naked female bottom / torso / legs with denim pockets on both cheeks. (In various colour versions, Andy Worhol-style.)

* Why won't the rain stop? It's been raining every day of our trip. Only once has it been sunny for a few hours, in Amsterdam. What's worse, it's half-assed rain. If it was full, pouring rain, we'd know that we need to stay inside. But this pathetic drizzling is just light enough that we still venture out and try to do SOMETHING with our time than just post in Internet cafes. It's just light enough that we end up getting totally soaked anyway. We'd be perfectly dry if it was pouring outside. The weather plays stupid mind games. (Current score: Weather - 5, Us - 0)

* We'll be heading out to what sounds like an awesome drinking experience tonight. There's a little area on the outskirts of town we've read about with a bar in a vast, dark mansion. With lots of brooding, gothic paintings. Sounds damn cool; maybe we'll come back with two new extra long teeth and capes.

Where's my sword when I need it

Hey there peoples,

Well, today we decided to do something a little more docile since tomorrow will consist of clubbing it up at the Fuse. Hence, we came to Bruges, the most preserved medieval town in all of Europe. Now, I tried to imagine what a medieval town would look like in modern times and instantly I was horribly punished with flashbacks of that movie, knights tale, but thankfully that horrible vision is nowhere near the truth. The town is very tourist oriented, this I have to admit, but for being oriented at tourists theres still a lot of class and charm here. Seing it is a little hard when it's raining on the fifth day of our european adventure, but it's hard to ignore the way they've preserved things here. The buildings, roads, churches and government buildings are all in wonderfull condition and give you the feeling that, were the cars and bikes replaces with horses and pedestrians, you would feel like you were whisked away to the past. I know most of you are sticking your fingers down your throat at this point and or falling asleep at this amazingly exciting description, but like I said before, we're resting and it's raining. So just back off. Okay? Okay.

One exciting thing that I would like to mention is that I had my first REAL European coffee today. I've been drinking the stuff at the hostels, but it can't compare to the stuff you'll get if you go into an actual cafe and order one. All I can say is that the withdrawal will be severe once I'm forced to go back to Tim's watered down equivalent of something that might once have been coffee. Okay, maybe I'm exagerating, but all I'm trying to say is that I like it. A lot. But I'm not addicted, don't be rediculous. I could quite any time I want...I just don't want to...

Well, it's time to quit for today. Hopefully we'll be able to give you some great descriptions of European clubbing life after tomorrow.

Take it easy,

Markus

Picture Imperfect

Finally found an Internet cafe that would allow me to upload photos; too bad we had to travel to Antwerp to find it! (Pictures down below.) Na, I'm just pulling your collective leg: We decided to leave Brussels with a plan to return later, as the city has relatively few sites of interest during the week (especially when it rains every day of our trip so far), and we'd like to return on Saturday to finish our tour and visit the Fuse nightclub (apparently one of Europe's best electronica clubs, and like most serious clubs in Europe the party doesn't end until 7-freakin'-AM the next day).

Antwerp, on the other hand, is hailed in the guidebooks as an oft-overlooked destination; it's a little drab and boring during the day, but at night it's reputed to have one of the best nightlifes around. We arrived this morning, and after checking out the Grote Markt and the very expansive and historical Our Lady Cathedral (the oldest and largest Gothic church in the Lower Countries, according to the brochure), we headed down to the shop-laden Kammenstraat street to visit Fish & Chips.

Fish & Chips is something of a pheonomenon, we gather; it's a massive, multi-storied clubbing / rave / punk clothing, shoe, and accessory store. The staff is so hip and experimental in their fashion it hurts, there's a bar and internet access upstairs, there's a rack devoted to grafitti spray cans, and the best part -- the best part -- is that there's a hole in the ground on the entrance level that leads to the lower level via an enclosed red tube slide. Like, from a playground. It's so damn cool. You emerge into a white, glowing tunnel you can stand up in, and enter back into the actual store from several side openings. Mr. Maltby, you'd love this place.

Anyway, we went there to get the scene on stuff happening tonight, and the extremely helpful staff basically told us in a very lengthy way that there's nothing really going on tonight, though there are some hangouts that are pretty decent any day of the week. We've got a personalized hand-drawn map, to boot.

Oh, something very amusing about Belgium is that they're not very timid when it comes to sexuality in advertisements. Seeing scantily-clad women on TV or on posters is rather common. What's even better is that they tend to use sex to sell everything: We saw a poster with an upper-body shot of a topless woman (cut just high enough so that nothing was too visible) holding a package of batteries and smiling. Smiling, as if to say 'These long-life, durable batteries make me want to get naked!' Another poster showed a woman, from behind, taking off her top, facing a smug, smarmy guy holding a cellphone, implying that as the new owner of the Nokia Sexamaphone, woman will be powerless to resist ravishing you -- on the streets, no less.

Well, I think I'll get to the pictures now. The software seems broken -- again -- so I'll just post things manually and slowly for now. I'll put each of them up with 3 on each row, and then a caption legend down below. It's been very rainy for the past 4 days we've been here, and I have yet to learn most of the camera's settings, so the pictures may be a little drab for now...

Amsterdam
1) Us with Molly and Catherine (see post from a few days ago). Great people. What they don't know is that we took their wallets during this shot.
2) Tiny little side streets zig and zag off main roads in Amsterdam
3) Bridges like this are commonplace in Amsterdam -- imagine a drop of water creating ripples in a pond. That drop of water is Centraal Station, and many canals spread outwards from the station in concentric circles. Then, roads all lead in straight lines towards the station, hence creating a billion bridges like this one. It's veddy cool.
4) We stumbled across this movie shoot
5) This is the "Before" shot. I'd show you the "After" shot, but I still don't know where he is now.
6) The Dutch love their bikes. There are even bikes in a multi-level parking garage, on the left.

Brussels
7) Brussels. Filled with lots of suits, as the capital of the EU.
8) Some people in Brussels just can't slow down.
9) Old architecture meets modern traffic.
10) Markus, the friendly traveller, has just finished telling an old woman to let him drink in public in peace. (He's a raging boozer, remember?)
11) Actually, he was watching this girl.
12) From Grand Place, a large building in silhouette.
13) Some of the statues carved into the side of said building, many meters high in the air.
14) Side view of said building. Bonus: Another building too!
15) Another majestic building. Man they're getting old. (Yes, Markus, your type of humour has competition!)
16) Heil statue!
17) This photo comes a few minutes after the girl on the left arrived. Before that, the girl in the center holding the flower was surrounded by a hoard of boys all hurtin' and courtin' to win her heart. One boy was in the way, though, and by the time I finally got my surreptitious shot I think she noticed me...
18) Markus finally wanders back in a stupor from Amsterdam...
19) Our hostel, the Van Gogh. Easily one of the nicest places we'll stay in on our trip, I'm sure.

Antwerp
20) A shot from Grote Markt. I think the lady at the bottom is yelling "No pictures, you insolent Canadian twerp!" (I kind of forgot what she said when she punched me in the nose.)
21) Fish & Chips, as described above. Oh, and a clothing store with an interesting name.

That's it for now. See ya.

Red Light Restaurants

Markus has this entry pretty well covered below; Brussels seems to rock my socks, and we only just got here. Grand Place seems to be living up to its reputation as the best city square in Europe. Around Grand Place is a restaurant district that's just like the Red Light District in Amsterdam, except with food. That's the only difference; the restaurants are still surrounded by red neon lights, it's widely known as a common tourist trap, and there are incredibly pushy waiters soliciting business outside on the extremely narrow street (think 10 feet wide). "Hey! Table for two?" "Eh! Eh! You want to try some fantastic lobster?"

Time's up on this 'net computer, later!

Van Dam This city is fine!

Hey there peoples,

I have to make this one quick since I've got a timer staring me in the face from the measly Euro I had to put in this machine. Brian and I have now entered the home of Jean Claud Van Dam - Brussels, Belgium. I was not expecting much from this city. I don't know why, it's just one of those biases I can't exlpain. Actually, maybe it's from watching some of Van Dams recent quality cinema, but whatever the reason, I was wrong. This city is absolutley stunning. The architecture is a mixture of new skyscrapers which have no problem giving you the vertigo you're used to in large cities and old style palaces. There's a square here called Grand Place which simply took my breath away. This was all old style, with gothic and romanian carvings along every building. It was magnificent.

Now, you're probably thinking, "Architecture is all well and good, but you're straying from the important things. Sex, drugs and alcohol!" Now it's true that Brussels can't compare to Amsterdam on the sex and drugs market, I mean you can buy a woman and a joint in the same shop there. What these people take very seriously, however, is their chocolate and their beer drinking. Now, I assume that these passions don't mix well, but I'm Van Damed if I'm not going to find out for myself. (I know, enough with the stupid Van Dam jokes already. I'm sorry. I hang my head in shame :.-( )

Seriously, though, the chocolate here is so good that even I'm starting to think that it could be an alternative to sex. We went into this little specialty shop, Brian spoke this funny language which vaguely sounded familiar (ahh, the benifits of a French education through Grade school into grade 9, "Je mapel Markus!" Yeah! woohoo! that's it. I've got nothing left.) and then we ended up purchasing some of the tastiest morsels this Universe could possibly have to offer. It was grand.

Secondly, since the people here in Brussels take their drinking so seriously, the beer is dirt cheap. I mean like 1 euro dirt cheap. that's about $1.60 canadian, no taxes, no tip. I'm starting to like this place a lot.

Anyways, as you may remember from before, I'm on a limited time schedule here, so I must bid you adieu. I hope everything is going well for people and just in case you don't know, you can post questions or comments to these posts by clicking on the link under here that says "comment(0)". It may not be a 0 if someone has already posted a comment, but it's the thing in blue. Come on people, don't be shy. Ask away. Comment away. Let us know someone is reading this jumbled rambling!

Take it easy,

Markus

The City of Hospitality

Hey there peoples,

This is officially my first post to our little website and it has been quite the first couple of days to kick off our trip. Amsterdam is a winding city, filled with locals and tourists alike who all seem to be looking for the same thing, drugs or sex. Maybe both. Probably both. It's getting to these desired objectives which can be tricky since the bicycles and cars alike drive around as if they're the only ones on the road, making the pedestrian the lowest form of life on the transportation food chain. This makes the shopping streets here in Amsterdam which are paved with intricate coblestone designs and allow no vehicles, a very welcoming addition to the city.

When not looking for sex and/or drugs, there are some other things to do. There's a bunch of museums, which we only had time to visit one of on this short stay. We were going to visit the Anne Frank house, but it was overun with school children when we attempted, forcing us to postpone that visit until we come back. Oh I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "But Markus. I don't care about the museums. I want to hear about the sex and drugs!". Well, alrighty then. Here we go.

THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT (rated NC-17 due to sex content)

When we went looking for the red light district, we didn't know quite what to expect. It's one of those things you've pictured a few times after some descriptions from "previous customers", and what I had pictured was some seedy looking back alleys with big neon lights and pimps calling out to people yelling that inside their estblishment was the, "best damn pootang this city has to offa." What we found instead was not far removed from the shopping streets mentioned previously, except that the merchandise in the windows were human, scantily clad and trying to not look as if they were about to die of boredome. Every lady has her own little boothe, surrounded by lights, and the booths seemed to be clustered in groups of 6 with 3 windows on top of the others. The lights surrounding these ladies are very bright and are used, as far as I can tell, so that the line between the ugly and beautifull hookers gets blurred a little. Making eye contact with these girls is dangerous because if they think you're interested at all, they begin to bang on the windows and start motioning with seductive body language. I think they even have the ability to open their little booth-like windows and can start to follow you making you feel just a little awkward.

Anyways, as far as drugs go, you can pretty much walk into every third store and find weed in smoking or pastry form. This means that anyone looking to get high can do so in about 2 minutes flat, unless they're already high, in which case people just wander around with a mixture of confusion, mirth, then confusion again.

Well, I have to sign off now. I'm sure that I'll get better at this writting thing again as time passes. Being in Computer Science has the drawback of leaving you with puny and pathetic english language skills, but if you ask me to encode this message using the Huffman procedure, that I can do. God I'm useless.

Take it easy everyone,

Markus

Website up again

Okay, so I haven't slept just yet; I reinstalled the blogging software, and things seem to be working again. We'll have the boring default layout for now. Later, cool kids.

Little bit o' chillin', little bit o' illin'

We're at the end of our second day here in Amsterdam. It's past 5 in the morning here, but I'm restless and had a fair amount of sleep earlier in the day -- getting over the jetlag will probably be a bit harder than I thought.

As for Amsterdam, a wide-eyed, innocent Canadian like me has a hard time providing context and comparing Amsterdam to anything else I've seen; I've never been out of North America in my life. But, I'll give it a shot! Amsterdam is liberal. The attitude here is mellow. Accepting. Anything goes, and you won't really get judged for it. At least, that's how things are here in the hostel; there are so many backpackers and travellers here that getting the local side of things is difficult; you're a dime a dozen, and I think I've met more Canadians than anyone else here at the Pig.

But within the hostel traveller world (and likely this hostel in particular), everyone wants to meet everyone. It's like frosh week all over again. The hostel, in downtown Amsterdam, is a narrow storefront-type building you'd find in any city. Walk in, and you'll see a bar, a chillout area by the main window (with tons of cushions and very short tables where people smoke up regularly), a pool table, and the check-in desk. And everyone seems to be having a great time. The "just relax" attitude permeates the hostel, and the whole city.

Example: I wake up this morning, and step into one of three shower stalls out in the hall. (Very spartan and tight, of course.) Close the door, turn on the water. Then I hear the door to the stall on my left open up, and what sounds like two people walk in. And shortly afterwards, they're going at it, with the occasional bang against the wall or an escaped sound. And it doesn't really seem to bother me at the time; it's just par for the course, and seems almost natural and expected. Go ahead! Enjoy your vacation! Van Gogh museum, or shower sex romp, what's the difference?

Well, we picked number one. Visited the Van Gogh museum yesterday, which is actually filled with way more non-Van Goghs than his own works...it's very interesting to see the paintings and other influences Van Gogh had. Quite a few Monets in there, actually, which I was a big fan of. And they had some major Van Goghs too, of course, like the self-portraits, the sunflowers, and the Potato Eaters. I was disapointed that Starry Night is elsewhere, though.

Today, we tried to see Anne Frank's house (too busy, will come back tomorrow at an odd hour I hope), went shopping at a major supermarket for lunch and dinner (which we'll be doing frequently to avoid going bankrupt; also, no frozen meals to be found anywhere, it's all fresh), and made the obligatory curious-and-highly-amused-onlooker visit to the Red Light district. Crazy, crazy place; a whole district of side roads, main roads, tiny little alleyways, all filled with red light-rimmed glass doors with prostitutes either looking bored or trying to catch your attention. The doors are built into the side of otherwise normal looking buildings.

Most of the time, though, we spent chilling at the hostel. Talked to a lot of different travellers; I played chess with an English girl, Markus talked with a guy from Vancouver who's been working in Ireland for a year now (he's the second European Canadian we've met; they both have loved telling new Canadian visitors how things are different). I managed to piss off an American guy who was getting upset at the notion that other people might disagree with his government's views, and he started the conversation. Other Americans we met were great: Markus and I spent a good 3-4 hours drinking and chatting with two girls from Chicago, Molly and Catherine (group picture coming soon!). We discussed many of the differences between Americans and Canadians and they were good sports when we put them on the spot as representatives and justifiers of all things south of the border. They're heading back home soon, but I hope we run into people like them again. (Hope your trip went well, if you're reading this!)

Well, I should go now. It's quite light out and I feel the need to wake up the 41 or so other people in my room as I crawl into bed. We really enjoy reading the emails you guys have been sending so far; once I get the website up and running, you'll be able to put comments on each posting.

Cheers,

Arrival in Amsterdam

We're here! And we're damn tired. So very, very tired. It's true -- it's impossible to sleep on a plane. Markus managed some sleep, but I think he had a few shots of an alcoholic drink, if you know what I mean. (He's a lush! One of my goals on this trip is to paint Markus as a raging boozer.)

Very much the visible backpackers, we were offered accomodations in a very pushy manner five times within the space of a few minutes when we arrived at the busy Amsterdam Centraal station. Followed shortly by an offer to purchase some of the ol' Amsterdam weed. We eventually rented a hostel at the Flying Pig, only a leering hop, skip, and a jump away from the notorious Red Light district. Seems like a pretty cool, laid back place. (Liberal pot smoking laws kind of help things along.)

Not that that's all that Amsterdam's all about. The city is stunning; the streets are very much the idyllic, glamorized narrow cobblestone labrynths from countless Hollywood movies. You look down any intersection and see so much life and activity that we don't even know where to start adventuring.

We'll start in earnest tomorrow, after some sleep! Later.

Rushed and ready to leave

Markus and I are packed and ready to head off to the airport to catch our flight out to Amsterdam at 8:30 tonight. I'm surprised at how heavy my backpack is considering how little I thought I put in there -- if I don't come back with muscles of steel, I'll be sorely disappointed.

Right now I'm incredibly excited and nervous at the same time. Maybe 'nervous' isn't quite right; more like edgy, the kind of feeling you get before a job interview, when you've got all your senses on high alert. Add a nice swift punch to the stomach and a general sense of dread that I've forgotten to hide all the bodies well enough, and that's where I am right now.

I didn't quite get everything done before we left like I had planned, like this website. In fact, the blogging software seems to have broken on me as I switched over to our new domain (think Bill & Ted's, by the way). I'll have to work on it from the Internet cafes in Europe when I'm not quite so rushed.

Gotta dash now. I'm already starting to realize how much I'm going to miss my friends and family, but I bet that'll pass once we find much better friends and families in Europe.

Wish us luck!