|
European
Journal
Date: Thu, 23 Nov 2000 06:24:45 -0600
GREETINGS
FROM LONDON! HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!
Needless
to say, I arrived in the UK in one piece. Turkey day here really
sucks. There's no turkey, dressing, or football to speak of. I met
another American here, and our mission today is to find an American
bar that might be serving such holiday fare. It'll probably lack a
little something though. Namely, the opportunity to gorge yourself,
then proceed to the living room where you plop down in the La-Z-Boy,
unbutton the top button of your pants, watch football for ten
minutes, then fall asleep. Oh well, at least there's Big Ben, eh?
London
is cold and rainy today. Yesterday was nice. I ended up taking some
bus tour, then checked out some shopping. At night, I hit a few pubs
and a dance club. (Not that I'm one to talk, but... Note to self...
English people = bad dancing)
Well,
I must run now. Gotta' go check out the tower of London, then off to
Buckingham Palace to see if the Queen has a La-Z-Boy I can borrow
for the afternoon.
-Scott
Date:
Tue, 28 Nov 2000 12:13:19 -0600
Hola
from Barcelona!
Allow me to apologize for the occasional typing errors, as the
keyboards in Spain have loads of funny keys on ém that we donīt
have there back in the good olīUS of A.
Well,
I arrived here about 1:00 after an overnight train trip. Sleeping
cars are the way to go, even if you have a snoring Frenchman beside
you. (Note to self... next time in Europe, bring earplugs).
News
from London... The "authentic US Thanksgiving Dinner" deal
required 3 day advance notice. The good news is, my Minnesota
buddy and I were able to sweet talk a waitress into giving us some pumpkin
pie on Thanksgiving. She had to swipe it from another tableīs
reservations, but we tipped her handsomely. Never before have I paid
8 bucks for a piece of pie, but it was worth it.
Beyond
that, Iīve seen everything from the "scenic tours greatest hit
list" in London and Paris. It has been lots of fun, but tiring.
Iīm also running out of money, so send more, or Iīll have to come
home! Paris was nice, but a little chilly. I found something out
while there... I LOOK LIKE A FRENCH GUY! I have never
been approached so often by people asking for directions or
"the time." Of course, they all asked in French, so I
replied by pointing at myself and saying "no me frances."
Which probably means "I am not a Frankfurter" when
translated into English.
The
Parisians LOVE their dogs. They take them on the subway, on the
champs-elysses, into McDonaldīs (no I didnīt go there to eat...
just for the free restrooms), and also to the grocery store. The
other interesting thing... no pooper-scooper laws, so there are
landmines all over the place. I would like to say I was stealthy,
but had I been a paratrooper, Iīd be gone from the scene quicker
than the expendable crew member from Star Trek (that reference was
for you, Pipal).
Barcelona
is a very cool place... great spirit here. Rather than doing the
typical tourist thing here today, I just went and looked out on the
water of the Mediterranean, picked up some rocks from the beach, and
tried my best to skip ém. No luck, but i had fun anyhow.
Then,
I went to this hole in the wall bar that was definitely off the
beaten path. I was THE ONLY NON-SPANIARD THERE! However, in broken
Spanish I ordered what I thought were beef tapas, which turned out
to be (when translated into English) slices of greasy, fatty sausage
covered in a mysterious gelatenous-type red substance accompanied by
a basket full of bread. I must not have ordered right. I would have
turned the food away, but there was a group of locals
in the bar playing dominoes who gave me a look when I entered the
place. I didnīt want to upset them, so I woolfed it all down.
Is
there a Spanish version of Tums?
Anyhow,
I stuck around for a beer and the locals started to warm up to me. I
spoke my very best broken Spanish, and they laughed a lot. But, I
was welcomed into the fold. I think the owner (a guy named Ravi
Lopez) hadnīt had much tourist traffic come through, so I was a bit
of a novelty. After speaking to him in Spanish (I probably told him,
"your establishment is very full of elephant skinĻ" or
something) he gave me a free beer for my efforts. He even took a
photo of me in his place on the way out. Itīll be one of my only
pictures with me in it, as most of my sightseeing has been solo.
Now
itīs off for some shopping on the main strip here before doing some
laundry tonight. Backpacking does have its drawbacks.
Iīll
be headed to Nice, France in a couple of days, then off to Italy.
Sorry to say I donīt miss being there with you guys (is that a
rotten tomato I just say fly past the window from the direction of
Tulsa?), but I do wish you could all be here to see
this cool stuff.
BTW...
Iīm out of room in my backpack, plus itīs way too heavy. So... for
Christmas gifts, you will all receive a SHINY, WORTHLESS COIN from
the country of your choice. They arenīt even worth exchanging.
īTill
the next installment... Happy Holidays!
Love,
Scott
"Jack Kerouak" Dannemiller
Date:
Thu, 30 Nov 2000 15:18:33 -0600
Buonna
Notte from Florence!
Wine
is VERY cheap here. For that reason, myself and a couple of new
friends from Californa partook of a few liters over dinner, so I
will apologize in advance if this message is unintelligible.
Barcelona
was lovely, with loads of color and wonderful people, but it cannot
compare to Italy. Everyone is SOOOOO friendly, and the currency here
has SOOOOO many zeros on it, that everyone feels like a millionaire.
Oh! 250,000 lire for a hotel room? No problem! Let me just peel that
off of my stack of 2 million lire! Too bad 250,000 lire is only
about 100 bucks. Oh well... it's always nice to dream... and it's
worth more than those WorldCom stock options (sorry folks, but the
wine's talkin' now).
Pisa
was lovely. By the way, those of you who plan on visiting that
leaning tower can FORGET IT!. While I was there, I used some good ol'
American know-how to shore that mutha' up! Now it's straight as an
arrow! The Italian people can thank me later. All it takes is a
little duct tape and some McGyver tactics. (so... I did learn
something as the son of a general contractor).
Then...
there's the gellato! Thank of it like ice cream laced with crack.
(Not that I've tried crack... though I was offered some in the
London underground night club... more on that on another European
Scott distribution list... but I can imagine it's that addictive).
But...
here is the first negative admission of the trip. Scott is getting
tired. Learning a new rail system, language, subway. culture,
currency, and personality every two days wears on a guy. Not to
mention that living out of a backpack gets to wearing on you.
Not that hostel life isn't grand, but the people staying
there aren't like me. Many of them travel for a living, and live off
of the free morning bread and coffee day in and day out. I'm
starting to wonder whether or not I'll last the whole month here.
Perhaps I'll regroup after Rome and Switzerland to see how I manage.
'Till then, I'll try my best to send back news from across the pond.
By
the way... do we have a President? You wouldn't BELIEVE how much
CRAP I'm getting about that here. And... here's a revelation for
you. Making fun of the USA is a pastime of ALL European countries,
and this whole political situation isn't helping any. I told 'em all
that I voted for Ricky Martin, and they leave me alone.
EVERYONE
LOVES RICKY!
Chiao
for now,
Scott
Monday,
12/4/200 2:47pm
Bon
Giorno from Rome!
Italy
is still VERY nifty! However, you would think I'd be writing to all
of you as I sit and look out over some ancient ruins, or watch
people gather in St. Peter's square to see the Pope.
Nope...
I'm sitting upstairs in some laundromat run by a comedian from
Pakistan. I bring in my clothes, he makes fun of how bad they smell
(in Italian AND English, so everyone in the place can laugh), then
points me upstairs to the internet chat room. Gotta' love the irony
in it all. This whole laundry deal is another one of the sore points
about living in a hostel. Second is the heavy-set woman from
Melbourne sleeping in the bunk beside me who snores like a bullfrog
driving a Mack truck. Ahhhhhh... the romantic sounds of
Rome.
After
Florence, I went with the California guys and drank lots of cheap
wine in a small town called Siena. It's very beautiful, and VERY
romantic. So... hanging out with two guys from the west coast who
haven't shaved in three days was just the ticket. But seriously, it
may well be my favorite place yet. Rome has all the sights. Siena
has the charm.
Rome
is like New York with ancient ruins. Like any good tourist, I got
screwed royally on my first day here. Walking by a tour operations
place, I noticed the "papal blessing " tour departing at
9:15 AM. I thought, "Heck... I could use a blessing as good as
the next guy, and perhaps a pardon for my sins after having an
impure thought or two while watching that trashy Italian talk show
last night" (Jerry Springer has NOTHING on the Italians!). So I
asked, "Does the Pope really bless us on this tour?" The
tour guide says "yes... we see a lot of ancient-a sites-a in
the morning-a, then-a the Pope-a come out and bless-a you in the
Piazza San Pietro."
"Only
51,000 Lire! (25 bucks) Well sign me up then!"
So,
we see loads of cool sites in the morning, then at noon, we're
headed toward the Vatican. I ask again, "So... are we going to
get our blessing now?" The tour guide responds, "Sure-a.
After we-a go to the gift-a shop-a, you go-a to the Piazza and
watch-a the Pope-a blessing-a on the big screen-a"
"Big
screen?"
That's
right folks, on Sunday, yours truly was blessed by way of the
"jumbo-tron." All that was missing was the guy going up
and down through the sea of people shouting, "Cold beer! Get
your IIIIIICE cold Bud here!"
Seems
the Pope-a was saying mass at another cathedral outside of the
Vatican walls, so they had him piped in (sponsored by Phillips
Magnavox... no joke-a). I don't know. The whole blessing loses
something when they're not allowed to sprinkle holy water for fear
of electrocution around all of the electronics. Needless to say, I
don't recommend the "papal blessing" tour.
However,
I do have a seat for a true live papal blessing on Wednesday morning
which is, ironically enough, free. I'll get there early and get a
few extra God vibes for the rest of you sinners and pass 'em along
to you over the info superhighway.
I
also pissed off a Roman today at the Colloseum. There were a couple
of guys dressed up in Ceasar get-up, so I pointed my camera their
way and snapped a shot. They came over to me and were very friendly.
They said, "Here, we take picture with-a you!" I obliged.
When they gave me my camera back, they asked for a donation. So... I
pulled a couple thousand lire out of my pocket (in coins). The guy
says, "No... we want-a bills! No coins!" I said,
"Take the coins, that's all I've got for you."
So,
he takes the coins, and throws them over the fence into the ruins
saying, "Stingy American! We want bills" and walked away.
Sorry!
Guess I won't become a diplomat.
Otherwise,
I have seen some great fountains, ruins, and St. Peter's BAsilica is
the most amazing cathedral on Earth. Wish ya'll were here!
Gotta'
run! They're closing here at the laundromat. More later!
-Scott
Thursday,
December 7 2000
Der-BRRRRRRRRRR-in
schtillen from Switzerland!
Loosely
translated, that means,"Hello! I'm freezing my *&%į? off
in Switzerland!
I'm
in a little town called Interlaken. It's quaint, quiet, and the air
is much cleaner than Rome. It'll do my sinus infection some good to
be here. By the way... the alps are just about the prettiest pile o'
rocks around. I walked into a Swiss pharmacy to buy some drugs for
my ailment. They gave me some nose spray thingy that looks like a
medieval torture device, and some HUGE pills that dissolve in water.
I tried to explain my symptoms to the girl who was behind the
counter, but she didn't speak much English. I faked a sneeze, acted
lightheaded, grabbed my head to signal a headache, and waved my hand
in front of my face to signal that I was hot. Translating my non-verbals,
it probably looked like I was pregnant or having hot flashes. She likely gave me
some sort of prenatal vitamin just for grins. We'll see how things
turn out. If I start gaining weight, I'll know something's up.
Rome
ended with a bang, folks! On Wednesday, I got to see the Pope. It
was a madhouse! I showed up about two hours early and got a seat
right next to the railing, so I'd be within spittin' distance of his
Holiness when he came by in the Pope-mobile. I'll bet over 100,000
people were there in St. Peter's square to get the blessing. It was
like Beatle-Mania "Jesus-Style." I kid you not... old
people were standing on chairs, young kids were waving their hats
& scarves in the air. And... the best thing of all... when the
Pope finally rode past us on the Pope-Mobile, a group of nuns were
waving their hands, standing on chairs, and sighing like
pre-pubescent teens at an 'N-Sync concert.
The
blessing was very cool. The Pope said that it extended to my friends
and family back home... so you guys should feel pretty invincible
about now. I even had a few items "eternally blessed" (a
couple of crosses, and a big thing I like to call the
"Pope-Pop"... it's this HUGE sucker with a picture of the
Pope's head on it. I know it's tacky as hell, but I had to get it.
When I pulled it out of my bag to get it blessed, even the French
lady sitting next to me laughed. She also said something in French,
but I'm not quite sure what it was. Probably "Look at theez
eediot weeth his beeg Pope sucker! And he makes fun of us for
worshipping Jerry Lewis? Geev me a break!")
He
blessed the crowd in nine or ten different languages. I honestly
lost count. It was very cool.
Now
for the big news. After Switzerland, I'm off to Munich on an
overnight train tomorrow to get to Munich. From Munich, I'm headed
home. You see... a funny thing happened over here. First off... I
ran out of money faster than expected (I guess the 7 bucks I spent
on the Pope-pop wasn't the wisest investment ever made, but it
didn't necessarily break the bank.) Second, even though I have a new
job when I get home and move to Austin, another company has offered
to fly me home from here for an interview. Can't beat a free trip
home! (Now... how to get reimbursed for my return fare). It sounds
like a worthwhile gig that I should pursue. I've done quite a bit of
soul-searching here (in between bouts of translating for gladiators
in the Roman Colluseum) and I should explore every option before
finalizing the rest of my life.
So...
enough heavy stuff. I'll do my best to give you one final
installment from Germany. Likely, I'll be responsible for rebuilding
the Berlin Wall, and then I'll never get out of there. But... if
there is internet access in Munich, and I don't get too tossed at
Der Bier Garten, expect a final excerpt from Germany.
Sunday,
December 10 2000
Howdy
folks! Gutten Nacht from Munich!
Thatīs
right...Íīm leaving in about 7 hours, and I stopped just to send
yáll a note. Maybe thatīs because I love you so much.. or maybe
itīs because Iīve been at the Hoffbrau House for the last 7 hours
drinking beers from steins the size of a five-gallon paint bucket.
You take your pick and roll the dice.
Wow!
What a strange trip this has been! Itīll be a freakinīmiracle if I
make it to my plane at 7:45AM. Oh well... Germany would be fun for
another day or so!
Switzerland
was fabulous. I took a long hike through the mountains alone...
found God... and a lot of cattle farms which produce an intersesting
odor when the weather heats up a bit in the afternoon (those from
Texas and Oklahoma will be able to relate).
On
the train to Munich, I had an awful connection, and had to awake at
4:00 am to make my train from Salzburg to Munich. Try as I might, I
could not get the German speaking conductor to understand my intense
body and sign language telling him that I needed to be awoken at
4:00 so I wouldnīt miss the connection. His response... He handed
me a bottled water and a plastic cup. I guess he didnīt quite get
the message. Oh well.. I was able to find an interpreter and got
here in one piece.
The
Germans know how to do Christmas! I spent the morning at a market
selling crafts, strussel, pretzels, brats, wine, and beer. I ate my
way through the entire bazaar. It was fabulous!
Next...
I headed to Dachau to see the concentration camp memorial.
Interesting thing about some Germans. If you ask them where the
"concentration camp" is... theyīll say "There is no
such thing." Hoewever... if you ask them where the Dachau
museum is... they can point you right to it. Funny how history
lingers.
I
am glad I went to the memorial. I would suggest all members of the
human race go. However, I would not go back in a million years. It
is by far one of the most intense experiences of my life. To sum it
up... I now know why it is important to keep tabs on what our
government is up to. It moved me beyond words... so Iīll just stop
there.
I
needed some relief from the heavy day, so I rounded out my Europe
experience at the Hoffbrau House... a long-standing German bier
garden tradition. For those from Tulsa... just imagine Oktoberfest,
but with large German female waiters toting gallons of ale, and you
have the Hoffbrau House. Basically, it consists of a lot of Munich
locals watching a bunch of tourists get fat on brats and blitzed on
"Bier"... (pronounced "beer" in English. Believe
me... that is a MAJOR help after a couple of frothy mugs. I think
that was an intentional language commonality built into the
linguistics for those who got slightly tipsy).
So...
I lost my four new friends (from Louisiana, New Zeland, and London)
somewhere between Der Bier Garten and Der Inetrnet Cafe. Maybe Iīll
find them on the walk home. Germany was fabulous. I just wish I had
more time here.
So...
this ends my European correspondence. The remainder of your replies
I will receive comfortably back in the states, as I munch on Mac and
Cheese and watch reruns of "Jerry Springer". Thanks for
being a part of my experience. i hope you have enjoyed sharing it
with me HALF as much as I have enjoyed writing about it. Pics to
come. So... ītill I see you all again... PROST! And Iīm
outtaīhere!
-Scott
|