The remainder of Edinburgh ended up being a strange mixture of waiting and hoping. Ken and I decided that if we could get a 3 week gig to carry us through the dreary month of January, we would have all the annoying paperwork completed and we could pursue the next phase of vacation with ease. I could not have guessed how much this 3 week stop would influence our trip or our lives. For one thing, it has affirmed for me how much I need to live my life with positive mantras. I believe I’m a relatively positive person, I am able to see the silver lining in most situations, and I have ALWAYS believed that the struggles I’ve faced have all served the greater purpose of making me a smarter, sharper witted and tough girl. I’m not the girl who is always smiling by any means, I have my lows just like everyone else, but I live them with the knowledge that when I make it though to the other side, I’ll be better for it. This being said, I do have tendencies to allow what I call ‘the injustices of the world’ weigh on me from time to time and I forget to believe that if I believe strongly enough in getting something, I can make it happen. The power of persuasion. Hmmm.
On Gumtree, the UK equivalent to craigslist, we found a posting looking for some people to help spring-clean and do some general maintenance around a group of guest chalets near Stirling. I pretty much jumped for joy, because the thought of earning a little money while living in 4 star accommadation sounded pretty appealing. Besides which, the craving for some quiet countryside made me sigh.
We spent a quiet 2 days with a sweet couchsurfer named Jason who selflessly gave up his room for us and slept on the couch waiting in anticipation of the news. In retrospect I kind of harassed the owner of the chalets, Victoria, pleading our case and telling her how PERFECT we fit the opportunity. The posting made it sound like travelers were the ideal candidates. And couples were preferred too. Putting positive thoughts out into the universe does seem to work. We were offered the job. It could not have worked out any better. Now, we both have bank accounts, National Insurance numbers, and a few extra pounds (the money not the fat).
It was a Sunday when we got the job. We were to meet a ride towards Stirling on Monday and start work on Tuesday morning. Now more moving around for at least three weeks. We arrived Sunday night with groceries and met our co-workes. 1 New Zealand, 1 Dutch, 1 Romanian, 1 Bulgarian, and 2 Polish. Our large chalet was well equipped, modern, and beautiful. Internet access, cable TV, and a large DVD collection. We had our own room with private bath.
The work was blah. Spring cleaning wooden chalets. We came to appreciate tea time much more literally. At night, we relaxed, ate well, lazed around and did not think too far ahead regarding our travel. We knew the next step would be the southern countries and hopefully Morocco and Egypt. (At this point Egypt was not in turmoil).
The first 2 weeks we all lived in one large house called the coach house, we learned it had once been the stables. 8 people, (3 couples) and two friends who all converged together with the common goal of making some money, and the individual goals of solitude, or new friendships, or both. In time it became known as the ‘Big Brother’ house. The sharing of the kitchen, cleaning up after yourself, sharing the common space etc.
The day to day mundane isn’t worth explanation, the truth is, while we were in Lochend, there wasn’t much that seemed to happen to us. However, now that we’ve moved on the 3 weeks spent standing still were some of the most informative in terms of self-reflection of the trip.
There was something very special about walking out onto a lake, 100 metres or so from the shore, frozen and thawed multiple times throughout the winter listening to the groans and cracks in the ice, watching the kids and adults skate (or try to, I mean they are Scottish after all, not Canadian), and walking towards the centre to stare up at Ben Lohman. I felt insignificant and peaceful. Suddenly, the portion of the trip which was at least somewhat planned due to a pre-paid rail pass is over. Now we have options a plenty and yet we’re shrugging. Maybe Prague? Maybe Egypt? It strikes me how odd it is to be asking myself such questions. It used to feel like such a challenge to decide where to go dancing on a Saturday night, or what to make for dinner. Now, not only do I realize how silly this is, I am beginning to realize what I’m capable of. It’s something I only glimpse so far. Like a shadow up ahead that seems to move before I can catch it, but when I do sneak a peak it sends goose bumps up my shoulders and tears spring to my eyes which I blink away furiously. How do I make the most of this? Am I doing this opportunity justice? Will I ever catch the shadow and all of my small realizations will explode in a shower of greatness. Oh please I hope so! I will do my best to mantra it into being.
One magical moment
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I'll take a cup of kindness yet.
After Christmas was a blur of museums, cafes, dreary weather, and spreading the news to family and friends. It was a wonderful haze of romance. We went back to Montmartre to see it the right way, discovering all the sweet little alley ways, savouring the crepes and gazing down on the city from the steps of the Sacre Coeur. We agreed not to make wedding plans until we returned to Canada, but little snip-its of ideas popped into conversation on a regular basis. As much as Paris had redeemed itself in our eyes, we were ready to take off and make our way to the party of our lives (besides the up coming wedding of course.)
New Year’s Eve in Edinburgh! Now there’s a party. We arrived in the evening a few days before the big night and made our way to a funny Hostel called Castle Rock. Nice room, 16 beds (oi!), a kitchen, free coffee and tea anytime, but shit internet. That’s the thing with Scotland, everything is old so that new technologies don’t quite work right.
New Year is Edinburgh is called Hogmonay. The Scots also invented the song “Auld Lang Syne”. The whole main street and garden overlooking the castle turn into a MASSIVE street party. I read that over 100 000 people poured into the streets to party this year. We met four great people from Manchester who took us in and we partied with them for the night. Normally, our New Year celebration involved a group of friends, a few bottles of cheap champagne and a pretty subdued party. This year was different. I personally was very happy because never having been to Scotland, I had no expectations so all I could do was join the enthusiasm of the group! We were as dressed up as we could be while comfortable, not that anyone could see it, winter coats still rule the wardrobe. Although of course, just like anywhere you get the girls in stilettos, mini-skirts and tube tops.
We rode carnival rides, drank whisky in the streets, watched a random UK band (THE CORAL!!!!), danced, sang, ate street vendor supper, and watched a beautiful, albeit short, fireworks display over top the castle. Mostly though, we laughed and cuddled as only 2 people in love can do. After the street party dissolved we ended up at a bar making our entrance no earlier than 2am. Yes ENTRANCE at 2am. At this moment, we LOVE Scotland. Never could you go to a bar at this time in Canada and gain admittance. Walking home was a haze of dancing and yelling (WE LOVE THE CORAL!!!!) I don’t remember much except for the outrageous amount of girls walking home barefoot in streets covered in filth. (It took a good week to get Edinburgh totally cleaned up and hosed off, but they got the major stuff done by early next morning.)
New Year’s day was lazy and quiet. We did however make our way out for a big brunch, which was greasy and gross. Haggis has officially been tried. The verdict is not good. The evening consisted of no fewer than 2 ghost tours with some great stories that took us trotting up Carlton Hill in the pitch black. The hostel has turned out to be fun because we could cook (yay!) and we went running 3 times. The funniest part is that we spent 2 months traveling trying to figure out how we were going to survive the cold in Scotland. Meanwhile, it was above freezing every day and New Years itself was 7°C.
Sunday January 2nd I FINALLY made it too my first rugby match. Live scrums. Two rival Scottish teams and a bitter battle right to the last second. Nuff said. (At this point dad would call me a basher smasher and do a funny little snarl, and he would be right, I screamed myself hoarse cheering for Edinbrugh!)
After the hostel, we moved to a couchsurfers for 3 days. It was a really sweet middle-aged couple who took great care of us. They served tea and coffee all the time, and left breakfast out for us. We enjoyed sleeping in, (I had a raging cold by this time) and quiet nights by the wood stove.
One night I streamed the gold medal world junior hockey championships. I am Canadian after all. I went to bed after the second period. I figured a 3-0 lead was a pretty safe bet that we had won gold. It was after all almost 2am by this point. Boy, was I in for a surprise next morning when I got online!
Ken and I had decided somewhere between castles, cider and kilts that we would try to stay in Edinburgh for awhile and get some paperwork sorted, maybe even find some short term work and settle our brains a little before the next adventure. So, the goal was set that as soon as the Scots went back to work (they didn’t start until January 4th) we would start hitting the pavement. However, this still left us with a couple days to enjoy the vacation, so we took the opportunity to hike Arthur’s Seat. This little mountain seems quite innocent but you can get a few steep stretches and the view from the top is so worth it! Although windy as all get out. We spent a good couple hours roaming around the Hollyrood Park which encompasses the famous seat then hit up a café.
Ken and I are loving our late afternoon cappuccino breaks. And now, we use them to talk wedding wedding wedding! I know we said we’d wait until we were back in Canada but you cannot tame the thoughts of a bride-to-be… and apparently those of a groom-to-be either. So as we enjoyed the lazy, care free afternoons or strolls around Edinburgh, colour schemes, guest lists, party favours, menus and questions of to cake or not to cake are common conversation. (Insert girly shriek here).
Oh Kalene, the walking contradiction. Rugby and wedding dresses. Cappucinos and £2 pints of cidar. Happy First Footing friends.
New Year’s Eve in Edinburgh! Now there’s a party. We arrived in the evening a few days before the big night and made our way to a funny Hostel called Castle Rock. Nice room, 16 beds (oi!), a kitchen, free coffee and tea anytime, but shit internet. That’s the thing with Scotland, everything is old so that new technologies don’t quite work right.
New Year is Edinburgh is called Hogmonay. The Scots also invented the song “Auld Lang Syne”. The whole main street and garden overlooking the castle turn into a MASSIVE street party. I read that over 100 000 people poured into the streets to party this year. We met four great people from Manchester who took us in and we partied with them for the night. Normally, our New Year celebration involved a group of friends, a few bottles of cheap champagne and a pretty subdued party. This year was different. I personally was very happy because never having been to Scotland, I had no expectations so all I could do was join the enthusiasm of the group! We were as dressed up as we could be while comfortable, not that anyone could see it, winter coats still rule the wardrobe. Although of course, just like anywhere you get the girls in stilettos, mini-skirts and tube tops.
We rode carnival rides, drank whisky in the streets, watched a random UK band (THE CORAL!!!!), danced, sang, ate street vendor supper, and watched a beautiful, albeit short, fireworks display over top the castle. Mostly though, we laughed and cuddled as only 2 people in love can do. After the street party dissolved we ended up at a bar making our entrance no earlier than 2am. Yes ENTRANCE at 2am. At this moment, we LOVE Scotland. Never could you go to a bar at this time in Canada and gain admittance. Walking home was a haze of dancing and yelling (WE LOVE THE CORAL!!!!) I don’t remember much except for the outrageous amount of girls walking home barefoot in streets covered in filth. (It took a good week to get Edinburgh totally cleaned up and hosed off, but they got the major stuff done by early next morning.)
New Year’s day was lazy and quiet. We did however make our way out for a big brunch, which was greasy and gross. Haggis has officially been tried. The verdict is not good. The evening consisted of no fewer than 2 ghost tours with some great stories that took us trotting up Carlton Hill in the pitch black. The hostel has turned out to be fun because we could cook (yay!) and we went running 3 times. The funniest part is that we spent 2 months traveling trying to figure out how we were going to survive the cold in Scotland. Meanwhile, it was above freezing every day and New Years itself was 7°C.
Sunday January 2nd I FINALLY made it too my first rugby match. Live scrums. Two rival Scottish teams and a bitter battle right to the last second. Nuff said. (At this point dad would call me a basher smasher and do a funny little snarl, and he would be right, I screamed myself hoarse cheering for Edinbrugh!)
After the hostel, we moved to a couchsurfers for 3 days. It was a really sweet middle-aged couple who took great care of us. They served tea and coffee all the time, and left breakfast out for us. We enjoyed sleeping in, (I had a raging cold by this time) and quiet nights by the wood stove.
One night I streamed the gold medal world junior hockey championships. I am Canadian after all. I went to bed after the second period. I figured a 3-0 lead was a pretty safe bet that we had won gold. It was after all almost 2am by this point. Boy, was I in for a surprise next morning when I got online!
Ken and I had decided somewhere between castles, cider and kilts that we would try to stay in Edinburgh for awhile and get some paperwork sorted, maybe even find some short term work and settle our brains a little before the next adventure. So, the goal was set that as soon as the Scots went back to work (they didn’t start until January 4th) we would start hitting the pavement. However, this still left us with a couple days to enjoy the vacation, so we took the opportunity to hike Arthur’s Seat. This little mountain seems quite innocent but you can get a few steep stretches and the view from the top is so worth it! Although windy as all get out. We spent a good couple hours roaming around the Hollyrood Park which encompasses the famous seat then hit up a café.
Ken and I are loving our late afternoon cappuccino breaks. And now, we use them to talk wedding wedding wedding! I know we said we’d wait until we were back in Canada but you cannot tame the thoughts of a bride-to-be… and apparently those of a groom-to-be either. So as we enjoyed the lazy, care free afternoons or strolls around Edinburgh, colour schemes, guest lists, party favours, menus and questions of to cake or not to cake are common conversation. (Insert girly shriek here).
Oh Kalene, the walking contradiction. Rugby and wedding dresses. Cappucinos and £2 pints of cidar. Happy First Footing friends.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
The Beginning our OUR story
Paris. La ville d’amour. Well, yes. That’s true but it’s so much more really. It’s big, scary, beautiful, magical; and full of Parisians. We arrived on December 19th with a full 10 days to explore this magical place. It didn’t go quite as we had planned.
Day one was a mixture of wet feet, bad maps, a way bigger city than we were used to, exciting landmarks (eek! Eiffel tower! The Louvre!), some mild Christmas shopping, overpriced cafes and a fight that goes down in history. We won’t bore you with the gorey details. We have both expressed that we want this blog to be a brutally honest and real account of our travels, however, the transformation that occurred on that street (literally a sidewalk) in a Parisian suburb cannot really be explained. It was overdue and had little to do with each other and everything to do with ourselves. (Does that even make sense?) All I know is that I (Kalene) could actually feel myself in the present moment, come into myself in a way I’ve never experienced. Things became clearer about what I needed to do, what I wanted to do and what crap I was no longer willing to put up with. And I figured it all out with a 3$ bottle of vodka straight up and a really long cry, which turned to uncontrollable laughter and back to sobs a good six times.
We sat and cried uncontrollably (yes we). Strangers were looking at us but we didn’t care. We were having a moment--together. We realized we were being too influenced by others opinions and our own fears. We were stretching ourselves too thin. We decided that “From now on we buy what we need when we need it; no more compromising on our adventure”. Yet, we still planned to stick to a secure budget. I (Ken) threw my piece of shit boots in a nearby trash can and wore Kalene’s socks in my runners until we got to an overpriced hostel. It was great though because we left a lot of emotional baggage on the curb.
The next phase of Paris involved preparation for the Christmas we’d been dreaming about for the past 6 months. Buying proper clothes for the weather, Christmas music, shopping (separately on a few occasions), a free walking tour of Paris, the Louvre, and a fabulous night at a sold out theatre. We were still trying to eat on a budget and decide when we needed something (like Ken’s new boots) or just wanted something (like Kalene’s Starbucks). We had after all sprung for the piece de resistance, a hotel for Christmas for 3 nights. Tres chic.
December 23rd we checked into the Hotel Design de la Sorbonne and hit up Monmartre. It’s a pretty calm, artsy and cheap neighbourhood. We were enjoying some sushi for lunch but our hearts weren’t into the tourist thing. We wanted to be home with carols on the radio and Christmas cookies in hand. So we headed back to the hotel to cuddle in bed and try to get in the spirit. I (Kalene) ended up finding Majic 100 the Ottawa radio station which plays Christmas tunes all day. We streamed it on the iMac provided by the hotel and poured some rum and cokes. We were trying to pump ourselves up but somehow we were getting more and more lonely. We felt trapped. It occurred to us that Crhistmas is about family and friends. Paris felt cold and was full of strangers. Finally Ken suggested we get out of the hotel room and take a walk. So, we bundled up good and stepped outside. It was snowing. In Paris. The day before Christmas. I (Kalene) would get my white Christmas after all.
Magic ensued. We walked all the way from Sorbonne to the Eiffel tower. It wasn’t even on purpose at first, we were peeking in store windows and reminiscing about Christmases past. The snow was falling around us with a deafening silence and for once, the streets of Paris were quiet. After about 20 minutes, we could see the beacon of romance shining ahead of us. The Eiffel tower in all her glory. We walked for over five hours that night. We had FINALLY had the moment of magic we wanted in Paris, and there were many more to come.
There’s this weird balance you have to find while traveling, that of letting the moments happen naturally, and putting in the effort to make the adventure come to life. It’s a ying and yang of having goals and dreams and not allowing the things that don’t meet your dreams ruin the journey. It’s really hard! I mean really really hard. I think we both have the goal of learning to live in the moment, something I (Kalene) have always struggled with. This trip is making that struggle glaringly obvious. I see myself wanting the adventure to be bigger, more unbelievable, more exciting. And thus, I forget to enjoy the excitement I am fortunate enough to get.
The Story of the Ring. By Ken. So, during our colossal meltdown on the streets of Paris we were getting ourselves together I then knew that I was with the one person I wanted to have all my colossal meltdowns with and that I would forever want to be cold, wet, hungry, lost, and crying with that same lady…Kalene Cherisse Tilson. For the days leading up to Christmas we agreed to split up and Christmas shop for each other. We each needed to have something to open on the morning of the 25th. But, every time we did so, I used the time exploring jewelry shops. I knew what I wanted because I knew what Kalene wanted; more than that, I knew what Kalene liked. She is not a typical material driven girl; I knew that the ring I give to her in proposal of marriage she would consider the perfect one.
After seeing many options from many stores and many well-dressed Parisian men and women, I finally found it. A sparkling diamond surrounded by smaller sparkling diamonds. Perfect. I bought, paid, returned, paid more, and left….with the ring. One cannot really explain that exhilarating yet scary as ever feeling. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding. I also remembered that I still had no Christmas gift for her. Yeah, I have a diamond ring but it wasn’t for Christmas. I went over and over in my mind how and when I would do this. I could be truly unoriginal and unimaginative and surprise her at the Eiffel Tower. I knew that with her and I the moment would present itself naturally so I held out for it…or at least until she found the ring in my bag and asked a silly question like “What’s this?”
I carried the ring with me everywhere I went from that moment on. I couldn’t risk losing it or having her find it. We were backpacking together and our areas of personal space were pretty much restricted to our own bodies. Everything else was “our” space. And by that I mean Kalene’s space and Ken’s stuff will go “wherever”. In order for this momentous moment to be special I wanted the ring to be in the case so I could show to her in all its glory. Problem is, the box was quite big and I often looked like I was smuggling something or shoplifting. The giant bulge in my jacket pocket was about as conspicuous as using a dumptruck for a paper route.
Chrismas eve came. Could’ve been a good idea to do it then. We had plans to go to Notre Dame Cathedral that night for midnight mass. I thought I had better take it with me just in case. Our hotel was within walking distance to the cathedral. It was a bit cold, we both dressed up as best as two backpackers can; Kalene looked especially scrumptious. We arrived at about ten p.m. We found an allright seat and enjoyed a documentary film on the cathedral itself. I criticized it as my duty as a film scholar…it was done well. The Notre Dame choir was fantastic. Very moving and inspiring classical music. At midnight mass began. People were everywhere, packed into every isle in the place. We listened, sat, stood, and sang. Two young girls near us were not partaking in the festivities they were fumbling with their ipod and baguette!? They were at least nineteen and should have known better that this was a special occasion for those around them and to shut the hell up. Kalene was sitting to my right. The giant ring box was in my left pocket. I couldn’t get comfortable. My arm was lying on the box itself on my lap. It was stupid problem to have but it was a problem nonetheless. I am sure Kalene knew. I wanted to surprise her so the idea of it happening that night was scary. We were also very tired. I was up late the night before Skyping people. Mass ended and we left. Kalene was very cold and very tired. It was not fair of me to spring this moment on her. I figured, instead of proposing to her that night I would just get us lost on the way home…so I did.
Christmas morning. It was very sunny. The sun came into our room and woke us up quite early. We went to breakfast and ate like royalty. I forgot to mention that first thing Christmas morning, which was a Saturday too mind you, a garbage truck went by. There are too many reasons to list why that would not have happened in Canada. A Christmas on a Saturday in Canada?...your clocks don’t report to work on time.
We had arrangements to Skype both our families that afternoon so we can see them during their Christmas morning. Kalene had surprised me by digitally renting National Lampoon’s Christmas vacation. The greatest Christmas movie ever. We lay in our bed and watched. It was very majestic. This film has taken on an almost euphoric status for us both, representing family, Christmas, and everything we both hold dear. As much as it was funny it was quite sad. I remember the exact scene where it happened. Clark is standing looking out his window wearing a Chicago blackhawks jersey. He is fantasizing about his pool ideas. It was there that I paused it. I needed a break and Kalene had to pee. We had a quick chat about how much we missed home and we both decided that we would never be away from home for another Christmas again…ever. Kalene got up and entered the very crampt toilet (which is what Europeans call a washroom/bathroom). I sprang up immediately and grabbed my coat. I ripped it from the hanger, grabbed the box and opened it. It looked stunning. I licked the top of the ring to remove any dust or dirt and make it shine even more. I had no thoughts other than what I was about to do. It just felt right. This was the moment I was waiting for…we were planning our lives together in Paris on our most favourite day. I wedged myself between the wall and the bed outside the toilet door and got down on one knee. Our room was small. I was literally wedged. I heard a flush then a faucet. Wholy shit this is going to happen. I had no qualms about if she would say yes or not or if she would think this is how she imagined it or not or if the ring was perfect or not…I knew she would love the whole thing. The door opened and she saw me. Her face was in complete shock. She put her hands on her chest.
We disagree slightly about what I actually said but it went something like this. I told her I loved her, I wanted to be with her forever, I wanted a house, kids, a vegetable garden, to compost, and finally to get a dog. I took her right hand to simply hold as I spoke to her. She took this as me not knowing which hand the ring went on but trust me I knew what I was doing. I don’t think I actually said will you marry me, I asked her to be my wife. I took the ring from its place and slid it on her left hand finger. She said of course I will. Not yes, of course I will. Go Ken. She studied the ring, we were both crying, we kissed, and I got up. I asked her if she liked it and she said it was perfect…but that it was too big. Ah, pooh!
I, the bride-to-be couldn’t be happier. The moment was perfect for me, very romantic, and very real. Also, telling my family, though nerve-racking was great. They all congratulated us, I cried, and no one seemed concerned. Telling my grandparents, who are well into their 80’s over Skype video-chat, now, there’s moment I’ll never forget. It took a good five minutes to quiet everyone down and for my grandparents to get over the shock of being able to see us and talk to us in real time. If I couldn’t tell everyone is person, at least I could clearly see their reactions. It was awesome.
I know that this will go down as the most memorable Christmas is our arsenal so far. Raw and emotional, we realized that if there’s one lesson in all of this it is that we love certain traditions, and we’ll try anything once, but Christmas away from home it probably one thing we will NEVER repeat.
Day one was a mixture of wet feet, bad maps, a way bigger city than we were used to, exciting landmarks (eek! Eiffel tower! The Louvre!), some mild Christmas shopping, overpriced cafes and a fight that goes down in history. We won’t bore you with the gorey details. We have both expressed that we want this blog to be a brutally honest and real account of our travels, however, the transformation that occurred on that street (literally a sidewalk) in a Parisian suburb cannot really be explained. It was overdue and had little to do with each other and everything to do with ourselves. (Does that even make sense?) All I know is that I (Kalene) could actually feel myself in the present moment, come into myself in a way I’ve never experienced. Things became clearer about what I needed to do, what I wanted to do and what crap I was no longer willing to put up with. And I figured it all out with a 3$ bottle of vodka straight up and a really long cry, which turned to uncontrollable laughter and back to sobs a good six times.
We sat and cried uncontrollably (yes we). Strangers were looking at us but we didn’t care. We were having a moment--together. We realized we were being too influenced by others opinions and our own fears. We were stretching ourselves too thin. We decided that “From now on we buy what we need when we need it; no more compromising on our adventure”. Yet, we still planned to stick to a secure budget. I (Ken) threw my piece of shit boots in a nearby trash can and wore Kalene’s socks in my runners until we got to an overpriced hostel. It was great though because we left a lot of emotional baggage on the curb.
The next phase of Paris involved preparation for the Christmas we’d been dreaming about for the past 6 months. Buying proper clothes for the weather, Christmas music, shopping (separately on a few occasions), a free walking tour of Paris, the Louvre, and a fabulous night at a sold out theatre. We were still trying to eat on a budget and decide when we needed something (like Ken’s new boots) or just wanted something (like Kalene’s Starbucks). We had after all sprung for the piece de resistance, a hotel for Christmas for 3 nights. Tres chic.
December 23rd we checked into the Hotel Design de la Sorbonne and hit up Monmartre. It’s a pretty calm, artsy and cheap neighbourhood. We were enjoying some sushi for lunch but our hearts weren’t into the tourist thing. We wanted to be home with carols on the radio and Christmas cookies in hand. So we headed back to the hotel to cuddle in bed and try to get in the spirit. I (Kalene) ended up finding Majic 100 the Ottawa radio station which plays Christmas tunes all day. We streamed it on the iMac provided by the hotel and poured some rum and cokes. We were trying to pump ourselves up but somehow we were getting more and more lonely. We felt trapped. It occurred to us that Crhistmas is about family and friends. Paris felt cold and was full of strangers. Finally Ken suggested we get out of the hotel room and take a walk. So, we bundled up good and stepped outside. It was snowing. In Paris. The day before Christmas. I (Kalene) would get my white Christmas after all.
Magic ensued. We walked all the way from Sorbonne to the Eiffel tower. It wasn’t even on purpose at first, we were peeking in store windows and reminiscing about Christmases past. The snow was falling around us with a deafening silence and for once, the streets of Paris were quiet. After about 20 minutes, we could see the beacon of romance shining ahead of us. The Eiffel tower in all her glory. We walked for over five hours that night. We had FINALLY had the moment of magic we wanted in Paris, and there were many more to come.
There’s this weird balance you have to find while traveling, that of letting the moments happen naturally, and putting in the effort to make the adventure come to life. It’s a ying and yang of having goals and dreams and not allowing the things that don’t meet your dreams ruin the journey. It’s really hard! I mean really really hard. I think we both have the goal of learning to live in the moment, something I (Kalene) have always struggled with. This trip is making that struggle glaringly obvious. I see myself wanting the adventure to be bigger, more unbelievable, more exciting. And thus, I forget to enjoy the excitement I am fortunate enough to get.
The Story of the Ring. By Ken. So, during our colossal meltdown on the streets of Paris we were getting ourselves together I then knew that I was with the one person I wanted to have all my colossal meltdowns with and that I would forever want to be cold, wet, hungry, lost, and crying with that same lady…Kalene Cherisse Tilson. For the days leading up to Christmas we agreed to split up and Christmas shop for each other. We each needed to have something to open on the morning of the 25th. But, every time we did so, I used the time exploring jewelry shops. I knew what I wanted because I knew what Kalene wanted; more than that, I knew what Kalene liked. She is not a typical material driven girl; I knew that the ring I give to her in proposal of marriage she would consider the perfect one.
After seeing many options from many stores and many well-dressed Parisian men and women, I finally found it. A sparkling diamond surrounded by smaller sparkling diamonds. Perfect. I bought, paid, returned, paid more, and left….with the ring. One cannot really explain that exhilarating yet scary as ever feeling. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding. I also remembered that I still had no Christmas gift for her. Yeah, I have a diamond ring but it wasn’t for Christmas. I went over and over in my mind how and when I would do this. I could be truly unoriginal and unimaginative and surprise her at the Eiffel Tower. I knew that with her and I the moment would present itself naturally so I held out for it…or at least until she found the ring in my bag and asked a silly question like “What’s this?”
I carried the ring with me everywhere I went from that moment on. I couldn’t risk losing it or having her find it. We were backpacking together and our areas of personal space were pretty much restricted to our own bodies. Everything else was “our” space. And by that I mean Kalene’s space and Ken’s stuff will go “wherever”. In order for this momentous moment to be special I wanted the ring to be in the case so I could show to her in all its glory. Problem is, the box was quite big and I often looked like I was smuggling something or shoplifting. The giant bulge in my jacket pocket was about as conspicuous as using a dumptruck for a paper route.
Chrismas eve came. Could’ve been a good idea to do it then. We had plans to go to Notre Dame Cathedral that night for midnight mass. I thought I had better take it with me just in case. Our hotel was within walking distance to the cathedral. It was a bit cold, we both dressed up as best as two backpackers can; Kalene looked especially scrumptious. We arrived at about ten p.m. We found an allright seat and enjoyed a documentary film on the cathedral itself. I criticized it as my duty as a film scholar…it was done well. The Notre Dame choir was fantastic. Very moving and inspiring classical music. At midnight mass began. People were everywhere, packed into every isle in the place. We listened, sat, stood, and sang. Two young girls near us were not partaking in the festivities they were fumbling with their ipod and baguette!? They were at least nineteen and should have known better that this was a special occasion for those around them and to shut the hell up. Kalene was sitting to my right. The giant ring box was in my left pocket. I couldn’t get comfortable. My arm was lying on the box itself on my lap. It was stupid problem to have but it was a problem nonetheless. I am sure Kalene knew. I wanted to surprise her so the idea of it happening that night was scary. We were also very tired. I was up late the night before Skyping people. Mass ended and we left. Kalene was very cold and very tired. It was not fair of me to spring this moment on her. I figured, instead of proposing to her that night I would just get us lost on the way home…so I did.
Christmas morning. It was very sunny. The sun came into our room and woke us up quite early. We went to breakfast and ate like royalty. I forgot to mention that first thing Christmas morning, which was a Saturday too mind you, a garbage truck went by. There are too many reasons to list why that would not have happened in Canada. A Christmas on a Saturday in Canada?...your clocks don’t report to work on time.
We had arrangements to Skype both our families that afternoon so we can see them during their Christmas morning. Kalene had surprised me by digitally renting National Lampoon’s Christmas vacation. The greatest Christmas movie ever. We lay in our bed and watched. It was very majestic. This film has taken on an almost euphoric status for us both, representing family, Christmas, and everything we both hold dear. As much as it was funny it was quite sad. I remember the exact scene where it happened. Clark is standing looking out his window wearing a Chicago blackhawks jersey. He is fantasizing about his pool ideas. It was there that I paused it. I needed a break and Kalene had to pee. We had a quick chat about how much we missed home and we both decided that we would never be away from home for another Christmas again…ever. Kalene got up and entered the very crampt toilet (which is what Europeans call a washroom/bathroom). I sprang up immediately and grabbed my coat. I ripped it from the hanger, grabbed the box and opened it. It looked stunning. I licked the top of the ring to remove any dust or dirt and make it shine even more. I had no thoughts other than what I was about to do. It just felt right. This was the moment I was waiting for…we were planning our lives together in Paris on our most favourite day. I wedged myself between the wall and the bed outside the toilet door and got down on one knee. Our room was small. I was literally wedged. I heard a flush then a faucet. Wholy shit this is going to happen. I had no qualms about if she would say yes or not or if she would think this is how she imagined it or not or if the ring was perfect or not…I knew she would love the whole thing. The door opened and she saw me. Her face was in complete shock. She put her hands on her chest.
We disagree slightly about what I actually said but it went something like this. I told her I loved her, I wanted to be with her forever, I wanted a house, kids, a vegetable garden, to compost, and finally to get a dog. I took her right hand to simply hold as I spoke to her. She took this as me not knowing which hand the ring went on but trust me I knew what I was doing. I don’t think I actually said will you marry me, I asked her to be my wife. I took the ring from its place and slid it on her left hand finger. She said of course I will. Not yes, of course I will. Go Ken. She studied the ring, we were both crying, we kissed, and I got up. I asked her if she liked it and she said it was perfect…but that it was too big. Ah, pooh!
I, the bride-to-be couldn’t be happier. The moment was perfect for me, very romantic, and very real. Also, telling my family, though nerve-racking was great. They all congratulated us, I cried, and no one seemed concerned. Telling my grandparents, who are well into their 80’s over Skype video-chat, now, there’s moment I’ll never forget. It took a good five minutes to quiet everyone down and for my grandparents to get over the shock of being able to see us and talk to us in real time. If I couldn’t tell everyone is person, at least I could clearly see their reactions. It was awesome.
I know that this will go down as the most memorable Christmas is our arsenal so far. Raw and emotional, we realized that if there’s one lesson in all of this it is that we love certain traditions, and we’ll try anything once, but Christmas away from home it probably one thing we will NEVER repeat.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Big things. Dirty things. French things.
Kalene’s blog: January 3rd, 2011. Big things are happening here. We’ve been on the road for exactly 2 months and 2 days and it feels like a lifetime and a snap of the fingers all in one breath. People kept warning me I wouldn’t be the same person when I returned, and well I’m not back yet, but I’m also DEFINITELY not the same person.
This trip isn’t always roses the way it may have seemed in my last post. Of course there are snags and homesickness, and colds and rain and gloom. And DIRT. I’m not a prissy girl, not even close, I like to sweat, like the best of em, I can handle multiple days in a row without a shower, I can deal with poopy dipers and vomit when I need to. But the place we stayed in Strasburg France was absolutely disgusting. Vile. Putrid…. Why didn’t I leave after one night? Because I’m Canadian, and that would have been rude. I know Ken mentioned this but really, they had a ‘pet’ rat that I’m pretty sure just came and went on his own schedule. Shudder.
I must mention one HILARIOUS night we had in Strasbourg. Ken’s friend from high school invited us to come to the ‘chateau’ where he was living. I was totally confused and thought this was popular boy-speak for the flatshare he lived in. Nope, turns out it was actually a chateau. Big, beautiful and nice and warm. We got soaked getting to the castle, but upon arrival threw our stuff in the dryer and ate Mexican and drank beer. It was a FABULOUS night in amidst CANADIANS! YAY HOME! A special shout out to a drinking game much like horse racing. Too many beers later and an early morning train we headed out with big smiles on our faces, back to the filth and grime. Yup, I was cinda-fucking-rella for a night, back to a pumpkin at midnight.
Luxembourg was a lot of fun with Kasia. We made a snowman, toured the winding streets and quiet paths, went to the Grund, had a great night listening to some instrumental bands at a little bar in the downtown and then a nice night sitting around drinking too much and talking with some great jazz playing in the background. Luxembourg, was great fun. Again, THANK YOU KASIA!!!
Ken mentioned Nice and Monaco but he neglected to tell you that while in Nice we took our first afternoon apart. This was a much needed break from each other. Don’t get me wrong, we’re in love, but it was 6 weeks at this point with no more than 30 minutes apart. A girl needs to be one with her thoughts every now and again. I went to this little town called Eze Village where they make perfume and spent some nice solitary hours wandering around the tiniest streets you’ve ever seen and then hiking down to the port to catch the bus back. It’s funny but when we met that night and actually had something new to talk about. We were tripping on each other trying to get tell the details our of adventures. That night we sat on some rocks and had a bottle of Champagne and ate yummy pastries from a local pattiserie watching the sunset. The view was stellar. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Ken mentioned Marseille and I have to give a quick comment to our first hosts. Alex and Deb were really fun. They told us about this area called ‘Les Calanques’ we hiked around these limestone cliffs. Gorgeous. Also, the meals we shared were positively decadent. And Blokus.
As Ken mentioned again, the second host was a nightmare. This man is not mean or anything he just lives a completely different life than I’m used to. He smokes like a chimney. Indoors. I smelled like a tobacco plant by the time I left. And, yes he was completely irresponsible. He left us alone on the side of a road at midnight for 40 minutes and never turned up. WHO DOES THIS!?! Not Canadians. It baffled me. Then, we got tortured all night by a mouse running around our bags. Then, The 2nd night of our stay he just never came home at all. His roommates did though. They partied downstairs and got so drunk that one of them puked their guts out for hours, then clogged the toilet and flooded the flat. Awesome.
I actually kept my cool pretty well while it was all happening but this lead to a breakdown of magnanimous proportions later on. I got on the train to Paris, the leg of the trip I was looking forward to the most and started listening to the Vinyl Café Christmas special podcast. I looked out the window and cried almost the whole way to Paris. I was homesick, no denying.
As I said, I know I’m not the same person I was when I left. I think in some ways I can handle much more stress, but in other ways I am also figuring out my limits. Hell, I can laugh when my watch gets launched under a bus (yes, this did actually happen to me), but I CANNOT handle rotten food lying around and mice nibbling my toes. I can handle little sleep on lumpy beds, with not enough blankets, but I cannot handle being hungry. I’m very cranky on an empty stomach. I’m constantly playing with the balance of the image I have in my head for how this trip is ‘supposed’ to go. I try not to have pre-conceived ideas, but of course I do. I love to notice the little details of the people we meet and the places we see so I’m appreciating where I come from A LOT more. Anyway, I’ll leave it here but stay tuned. Paris was an adventure to say the least.
This trip isn’t always roses the way it may have seemed in my last post. Of course there are snags and homesickness, and colds and rain and gloom. And DIRT. I’m not a prissy girl, not even close, I like to sweat, like the best of em, I can handle multiple days in a row without a shower, I can deal with poopy dipers and vomit when I need to. But the place we stayed in Strasburg France was absolutely disgusting. Vile. Putrid…. Why didn’t I leave after one night? Because I’m Canadian, and that would have been rude. I know Ken mentioned this but really, they had a ‘pet’ rat that I’m pretty sure just came and went on his own schedule. Shudder.
I must mention one HILARIOUS night we had in Strasbourg. Ken’s friend from high school invited us to come to the ‘chateau’ where he was living. I was totally confused and thought this was popular boy-speak for the flatshare he lived in. Nope, turns out it was actually a chateau. Big, beautiful and nice and warm. We got soaked getting to the castle, but upon arrival threw our stuff in the dryer and ate Mexican and drank beer. It was a FABULOUS night in amidst CANADIANS! YAY HOME! A special shout out to a drinking game much like horse racing. Too many beers later and an early morning train we headed out with big smiles on our faces, back to the filth and grime. Yup, I was cinda-fucking-rella for a night, back to a pumpkin at midnight.
Luxembourg was a lot of fun with Kasia. We made a snowman, toured the winding streets and quiet paths, went to the Grund, had a great night listening to some instrumental bands at a little bar in the downtown and then a nice night sitting around drinking too much and talking with some great jazz playing in the background. Luxembourg, was great fun. Again, THANK YOU KASIA!!!
Ken mentioned Nice and Monaco but he neglected to tell you that while in Nice we took our first afternoon apart. This was a much needed break from each other. Don’t get me wrong, we’re in love, but it was 6 weeks at this point with no more than 30 minutes apart. A girl needs to be one with her thoughts every now and again. I went to this little town called Eze Village where they make perfume and spent some nice solitary hours wandering around the tiniest streets you’ve ever seen and then hiking down to the port to catch the bus back. It’s funny but when we met that night and actually had something new to talk about. We were tripping on each other trying to get tell the details our of adventures. That night we sat on some rocks and had a bottle of Champagne and ate yummy pastries from a local pattiserie watching the sunset. The view was stellar. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Ken mentioned Marseille and I have to give a quick comment to our first hosts. Alex and Deb were really fun. They told us about this area called ‘Les Calanques’ we hiked around these limestone cliffs. Gorgeous. Also, the meals we shared were positively decadent. And Blokus.
As Ken mentioned again, the second host was a nightmare. This man is not mean or anything he just lives a completely different life than I’m used to. He smokes like a chimney. Indoors. I smelled like a tobacco plant by the time I left. And, yes he was completely irresponsible. He left us alone on the side of a road at midnight for 40 minutes and never turned up. WHO DOES THIS!?! Not Canadians. It baffled me. Then, we got tortured all night by a mouse running around our bags. Then, The 2nd night of our stay he just never came home at all. His roommates did though. They partied downstairs and got so drunk that one of them puked their guts out for hours, then clogged the toilet and flooded the flat. Awesome.
I actually kept my cool pretty well while it was all happening but this lead to a breakdown of magnanimous proportions later on. I got on the train to Paris, the leg of the trip I was looking forward to the most and started listening to the Vinyl Café Christmas special podcast. I looked out the window and cried almost the whole way to Paris. I was homesick, no denying.
As I said, I know I’m not the same person I was when I left. I think in some ways I can handle much more stress, but in other ways I am also figuring out my limits. Hell, I can laugh when my watch gets launched under a bus (yes, this did actually happen to me), but I CANNOT handle rotten food lying around and mice nibbling my toes. I can handle little sleep on lumpy beds, with not enough blankets, but I cannot handle being hungry. I’m very cranky on an empty stomach. I’m constantly playing with the balance of the image I have in my head for how this trip is ‘supposed’ to go. I try not to have pre-conceived ideas, but of course I do. I love to notice the little details of the people we meet and the places we see so I’m appreciating where I come from A LOT more. Anyway, I’ll leave it here but stay tuned. Paris was an adventure to say the least.
Kentry
Blog entry. By Ken. Here we go. Kalene and I made our way from Germany into France, which is scary because France is full of French people and I didn’t know what to expect. Though I was excited about learning more of the French language. Like most of my male-anglophone-ontarians I learned French in school and do not speak it!
We got to Strasbourg, France amidst heavy rain. We were scheduled to stay with a lovely couchsurfing couple but at the last minute they advised us to ensure we brought a sleeping bag. Ugh, we are traveling for a year and have no such thing, also, our profile clearly says so and the profile of this couple said that they can provide sleep gear. So we had to switch hosts last minute because they were dumb. This ended up being one of the worst experiences of our trip. Another couple took us in which was great but we arrived at their home and it was without a doubt the dirtiest most disgusting place we had ever visited and we had to sleep there for three nights. In retrospect we should have left after one night but we are so Canadian that we did not want to seem rude. It amazed me that a female lived there cause it was miles past gross. Kalene showered with flip flops on.
After that crap we visited an old friend from Toronto who now lives in Luxembourg. We were so happy that we got in contact with her because Luxembourg was very cute and those two days were very relaxed and comfortable. We had some drinks, saw a local band at a nightclub, and ate great food. Thank you Kasia!
***At this point Kalene says to Ken. “I think we should write more about Luxembourg and not just breeze past it,”
Ken: “It’s Luxembourg, it’s used to it.”
From Luxembourg we headed south where it was a bit warmer. Nice, France where Kalene’s mum spent a year in University. It was great to finally see the elusive Mediterranean sea. It was dark the fist night and the water was black. A hostel for one night in order to do some much needed laundry. After the experience in Strasbourg I wanted to throw out all my clothes…partly because I have been losing weight and I want to get tighter fitting clothes to show of my manly physique. Apparently carrying around your girlfriends crap for two months is good for the abs.
The first morning in Nice we jogged along the coast of the Mediterranean in the sunlight. Christmas trees are sold along this coast too FYI. We spend a day in Monaco which is the second smallest nation (next to Vatican) and it is very rich. They do not have income tax! Many of the world’s richest people set up in Monaco to avoid losing money to taxes. It was pretty, but geared toward the wealthy.
From Nice we stopped for an afternoon in Cannes. Large film fest town…that’s it. We arrived in Marseille which is the city Kalene and I have both voted as the one to skip if you are in France. A lot was closed in winter, or under construction, or both. It didn’t seem to have a lot to do, was a bit pricy, kind of rude and just overall poopy. This culminated in a very irresponsible couchsurfing host. I don’t want to condemn a whole nation but two bad experiences with people both of which happened in France. I guess it was inevitable because we had been spoiled by lovely people up until then.
Being a few hours late is considered on time. There is a lack of what I want to call accountability amongst some Europeans which I did not expect. I thought all people lived like I do in Canada.
The holidays were approaching but snow was nowhere to be seen. We had our hotel booked in Paris and we were getting excited about it.
We got to Strasbourg, France amidst heavy rain. We were scheduled to stay with a lovely couchsurfing couple but at the last minute they advised us to ensure we brought a sleeping bag. Ugh, we are traveling for a year and have no such thing, also, our profile clearly says so and the profile of this couple said that they can provide sleep gear. So we had to switch hosts last minute because they were dumb. This ended up being one of the worst experiences of our trip. Another couple took us in which was great but we arrived at their home and it was without a doubt the dirtiest most disgusting place we had ever visited and we had to sleep there for three nights. In retrospect we should have left after one night but we are so Canadian that we did not want to seem rude. It amazed me that a female lived there cause it was miles past gross. Kalene showered with flip flops on.
After that crap we visited an old friend from Toronto who now lives in Luxembourg. We were so happy that we got in contact with her because Luxembourg was very cute and those two days were very relaxed and comfortable. We had some drinks, saw a local band at a nightclub, and ate great food. Thank you Kasia!
***At this point Kalene says to Ken. “I think we should write more about Luxembourg and not just breeze past it,”
Ken: “It’s Luxembourg, it’s used to it.”
From Luxembourg we headed south where it was a bit warmer. Nice, France where Kalene’s mum spent a year in University. It was great to finally see the elusive Mediterranean sea. It was dark the fist night and the water was black. A hostel for one night in order to do some much needed laundry. After the experience in Strasbourg I wanted to throw out all my clothes…partly because I have been losing weight and I want to get tighter fitting clothes to show of my manly physique. Apparently carrying around your girlfriends crap for two months is good for the abs.
The first morning in Nice we jogged along the coast of the Mediterranean in the sunlight. Christmas trees are sold along this coast too FYI. We spend a day in Monaco which is the second smallest nation (next to Vatican) and it is very rich. They do not have income tax! Many of the world’s richest people set up in Monaco to avoid losing money to taxes. It was pretty, but geared toward the wealthy.
From Nice we stopped for an afternoon in Cannes. Large film fest town…that’s it. We arrived in Marseille which is the city Kalene and I have both voted as the one to skip if you are in France. A lot was closed in winter, or under construction, or both. It didn’t seem to have a lot to do, was a bit pricy, kind of rude and just overall poopy. This culminated in a very irresponsible couchsurfing host. I don’t want to condemn a whole nation but two bad experiences with people both of which happened in France. I guess it was inevitable because we had been spoiled by lovely people up until then.
Being a few hours late is considered on time. There is a lack of what I want to call accountability amongst some Europeans which I did not expect. I thought all people lived like I do in Canada.
The holidays were approaching but snow was nowhere to be seen. We had our hotel booked in Paris and we were getting excited about it.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Smiling smiling, always smiling.
Oh my gosh we skipped Germany! Ken and I are currently in Nice, France after 3+ weeks in Germany, a visit to Strasbourg, and a quick jaunt to Luxembourg, and we didn’t blog once! Have no fear; we took notes, and many many mental pictures.
We both LOVED Germany. I feel that it’s not so necessary to go into detail about every day we spent there, but to explain how the trip is progressing and twisting and changing, all for the better. We visited Berlin for 4 days and 4 nights and after about half a day it became evident that this was not enough time. The culture there is so diverse and the city so huge and changing at every turn it is impossible to really see everything without at least a week, but probably more. I admit fully to my ignorance about the Berlin Wall and the divide of East and West Germany prior to this trip. We took a FANTASTIC and free tour around the city (did I say FANTASTIC?) and we barely stepped out of East Berlin! The stories we heard from our guide were so unbelievable, and yet when you stand and stare at an expanse of wall that runs down the middle of a city street you can’t help but shake your head. And now, to look at the way the city has bounced back and embraces its history you just want to shake the hand of every German you meet. (A quick note to mention that we LOVED the Germans we met, but more about this in a moment.) The most fascinating concept we learned about Germany, that we still haven’t quite grasped (but frankly, Germans struggle with it as well), is the concept of living with your past and honouring the history without being drowned by it. We stayed in hostels, with local residents, did tours and went to museums and memorials and they all state the same thing. How do we honour the victims of WWII and the inhabitants whose lives were torn apart by the few decades in history where Germany was the enemy whilst realizing that we, the survivors, were not the culprits? Until the 2006 FIFA world cup help in Germany, it was entirely uncommon to see a person flying their German flag with pride for fear of being called a Nationalist. It totally puts into perspective the confusion Canadians feel over being proud. I think of the history lessons we learn about Canadians during the two major wars and we sounds like downright heroes. Imagine that the Germans are taught they were all monsters.
Germany is very advanced in many ways and the most evident of this was the total acceptance for art in all forms. We visited a bombed out WWII building which has been taken over by squatters, but not the way we Canadians see squatters, these people make it their life’s passion to create art for people and to live simply. They create beautiful murals and take old broken cars and paint them, they grow gardens down ravines long since forgotten. ‘Tachales’ is the name of the squat and if you want a bonfire in the middle of a big city, or an outdoor bar, or a club, or a room full or stunningly provocative art, this is the place to visit. We actually went first during a pub-crawl and enjoyed the space first as partygoers, and then again a few days later during the day to visit the quieter artists studios. I could have spend a whole day meandering through this building and I only wish there had been a dance performance or a theatre show during our visit.
Munich was great and made even better by the two wonderful women we stayed with. Joanna and Beate are an older gay couple who by the end of our four-day stay became more than just hosts, they became friends. There are many exciting things about Munich itself but this city was made all the more exciting because we loved even the quiet moments drinking coffee and watching ‘Bones’ their favourite TV show. I have to mention that Hoffbrau House, the oldest and most famous beer hall in Munich absolutely lives up to its fame. 1 litre of beer is about 7euro and let me tell you, for a smaller woman one is enough; too bad I didn’t stop there. I have added a photo of Ken below that we like to call ‘The Bet,’ you can ask him what the terms of the bet were but I warn you he is sworn to secrecy.
Another day that must be mentioned is the day we went to Dachau concentration camp. We spent 6 hours wandering through the grounds and the museum and by the end of the day I was so sick to my stomach it took the entire 40 minute tram ride home to regain some feeling of normalcy. And even now as we sit on trains or take warm showers I think of some of the quotes I read, personal accounts of either survivors of final postcards thrown desperately from trains as it entered the grounds of this horror. The most frightening part of the visit was that the whole camp is surrounded by a suburb. People went about their daily lives whilst people were dying and being tortured right outside their windows. I absolutely recognize the fear factor that reigned through the people during this time, but I can’t imagine living with this knowledge. The guilt must have eaten away at them. It was on one hand very hard to imagine that at one time 32 000 people were imprisoned here. The camp was built to house 6000. While we visited the site, we would often go an hour at a time without seeing another person. And yet you feel the presence so deeply in your bones that there are ghosts living in the earth you can’t stop shivering. We took only 3 photos whilst in Dachau. We wanted to show people want we saw if only so you can all feel a fraction of what we did, without glorifying in any way the memorial site.
After Munich we went to Heidelburg where it snowed and created a picture perfect day to play on the grounds of a castle. We loved this beautiful village. The winding streets going up up up the side of a mountain and through narrow cobbled alleys. We took a ‘hike’ up philosopher’s walk and across the old bridge. This was particularly treacherous due to very wet snow and a very dense fog.
We also visited Cologne and Dresden. It got colder and colder each day. But have no fear! Our hosts in Cologne were lovely and gave us a free pass to a day spa. Seriously, sometimes I can’t believe the kindness of strangers. They asked us one night what our plans were for the next day and we told them we would go to a nearby town to enjoy a spa our guidebook had mentioned. But, when we researched this online we found that in the short time we were in Cologne the spa was under renovation. (Seriously, this whole continent is under construction!) After a short discussion in German they told us they have a pass that their work refills whenever they finish the money on it. So, the next day we walked through a very COLD town to a beautiful spa. It was a little strange at first, as we discovered the people of Germany don’t care if you are male or female in the change room, so OK, off came the clothes and freely we walked through the spa wearing nothing but the gifts God gave us. The sauna is our new best friend. We lay in a room of 90°C where a man performed a relaxation and detoxification ritual using peppermint and other herbed oils. It was fabulous. I swear my skin was breathing for the first time in a month. And then, when you can’t handle the heat for one more minute you step outside, yes outside, on the snowy terrace and let your skin steam off. Bliss.
Dresden was awesome because we stayed with a student who is very active in couch surfing. We had a horrendous day of traveling across the country. A snowstorm which hit the south of Germany (and much of the UK as we later found out) kicked the crap out of the DeutchesBahn network leaving us stuck on a train from Frankfurt to Dresden standing in the little accordion section between two cars with all our bags and not an inch of space. Needless to say, by the time we arrived at the Couchsurfing monthly meeting at Café-100 we needed a beer- badly. We had a great time exploring the city that was completely destroyed overnight by a bomb-raid in WWII and then rebuilt to look like a Medieval town as it did pre-war. We saw the church that was rebuilt, the Baroque ‘playground’ the old palace and many other beautiful sites. Though nothing quite sticks out like the piece-de-resistance that we went to Dresden just to see: Oh yes! The 2, 010 pound fruitcake that they wheel through the streets of the town to the famous Christmas market to be cut up and served to the locals. So weird but hey PROST! We had a blast in Dresden and I personally was not ready to leave. We had one moment in particular that was really special- our host made us homemade sushi. Ken has wanted to try this for a long time and I resisted because I thought it was way too hard, but it turns out its rather easy and I would gladly do it again. I’ll make an adventurous eater out of him yet!
So yeah, every day gets crazier and crazier. Seriously, I didn’t even melt down on our horrible travel day. I just laughed and knocked the cap off my bottle of beer and took a swig. I mean really, am I not the luckiest person right now? And I actually do feel it. I smile all the time. I generally thought of myself as a happy person before this but every day the dreams of where I would like my life to go become more and more concrete as I see things that I NEVER expected to see. And so, to dream the impossible dream, becomes, if not for an mere instant, to live the impossible life.
We both LOVED Germany. I feel that it’s not so necessary to go into detail about every day we spent there, but to explain how the trip is progressing and twisting and changing, all for the better. We visited Berlin for 4 days and 4 nights and after about half a day it became evident that this was not enough time. The culture there is so diverse and the city so huge and changing at every turn it is impossible to really see everything without at least a week, but probably more. I admit fully to my ignorance about the Berlin Wall and the divide of East and West Germany prior to this trip. We took a FANTASTIC and free tour around the city (did I say FANTASTIC?) and we barely stepped out of East Berlin! The stories we heard from our guide were so unbelievable, and yet when you stand and stare at an expanse of wall that runs down the middle of a city street you can’t help but shake your head. And now, to look at the way the city has bounced back and embraces its history you just want to shake the hand of every German you meet. (A quick note to mention that we LOVED the Germans we met, but more about this in a moment.) The most fascinating concept we learned about Germany, that we still haven’t quite grasped (but frankly, Germans struggle with it as well), is the concept of living with your past and honouring the history without being drowned by it. We stayed in hostels, with local residents, did tours and went to museums and memorials and they all state the same thing. How do we honour the victims of WWII and the inhabitants whose lives were torn apart by the few decades in history where Germany was the enemy whilst realizing that we, the survivors, were not the culprits? Until the 2006 FIFA world cup help in Germany, it was entirely uncommon to see a person flying their German flag with pride for fear of being called a Nationalist. It totally puts into perspective the confusion Canadians feel over being proud. I think of the history lessons we learn about Canadians during the two major wars and we sounds like downright heroes. Imagine that the Germans are taught they were all monsters.
Germany is very advanced in many ways and the most evident of this was the total acceptance for art in all forms. We visited a bombed out WWII building which has been taken over by squatters, but not the way we Canadians see squatters, these people make it their life’s passion to create art for people and to live simply. They create beautiful murals and take old broken cars and paint them, they grow gardens down ravines long since forgotten. ‘Tachales’ is the name of the squat and if you want a bonfire in the middle of a big city, or an outdoor bar, or a club, or a room full or stunningly provocative art, this is the place to visit. We actually went first during a pub-crawl and enjoyed the space first as partygoers, and then again a few days later during the day to visit the quieter artists studios. I could have spend a whole day meandering through this building and I only wish there had been a dance performance or a theatre show during our visit.
Munich was great and made even better by the two wonderful women we stayed with. Joanna and Beate are an older gay couple who by the end of our four-day stay became more than just hosts, they became friends. There are many exciting things about Munich itself but this city was made all the more exciting because we loved even the quiet moments drinking coffee and watching ‘Bones’ their favourite TV show. I have to mention that Hoffbrau House, the oldest and most famous beer hall in Munich absolutely lives up to its fame. 1 litre of beer is about 7euro and let me tell you, for a smaller woman one is enough; too bad I didn’t stop there. I have added a photo of Ken below that we like to call ‘The Bet,’ you can ask him what the terms of the bet were but I warn you he is sworn to secrecy.
Another day that must be mentioned is the day we went to Dachau concentration camp. We spent 6 hours wandering through the grounds and the museum and by the end of the day I was so sick to my stomach it took the entire 40 minute tram ride home to regain some feeling of normalcy. And even now as we sit on trains or take warm showers I think of some of the quotes I read, personal accounts of either survivors of final postcards thrown desperately from trains as it entered the grounds of this horror. The most frightening part of the visit was that the whole camp is surrounded by a suburb. People went about their daily lives whilst people were dying and being tortured right outside their windows. I absolutely recognize the fear factor that reigned through the people during this time, but I can’t imagine living with this knowledge. The guilt must have eaten away at them. It was on one hand very hard to imagine that at one time 32 000 people were imprisoned here. The camp was built to house 6000. While we visited the site, we would often go an hour at a time without seeing another person. And yet you feel the presence so deeply in your bones that there are ghosts living in the earth you can’t stop shivering. We took only 3 photos whilst in Dachau. We wanted to show people want we saw if only so you can all feel a fraction of what we did, without glorifying in any way the memorial site.
After Munich we went to Heidelburg where it snowed and created a picture perfect day to play on the grounds of a castle. We loved this beautiful village. The winding streets going up up up the side of a mountain and through narrow cobbled alleys. We took a ‘hike’ up philosopher’s walk and across the old bridge. This was particularly treacherous due to very wet snow and a very dense fog.
We also visited Cologne and Dresden. It got colder and colder each day. But have no fear! Our hosts in Cologne were lovely and gave us a free pass to a day spa. Seriously, sometimes I can’t believe the kindness of strangers. They asked us one night what our plans were for the next day and we told them we would go to a nearby town to enjoy a spa our guidebook had mentioned. But, when we researched this online we found that in the short time we were in Cologne the spa was under renovation. (Seriously, this whole continent is under construction!) After a short discussion in German they told us they have a pass that their work refills whenever they finish the money on it. So, the next day we walked through a very COLD town to a beautiful spa. It was a little strange at first, as we discovered the people of Germany don’t care if you are male or female in the change room, so OK, off came the clothes and freely we walked through the spa wearing nothing but the gifts God gave us. The sauna is our new best friend. We lay in a room of 90°C where a man performed a relaxation and detoxification ritual using peppermint and other herbed oils. It was fabulous. I swear my skin was breathing for the first time in a month. And then, when you can’t handle the heat for one more minute you step outside, yes outside, on the snowy terrace and let your skin steam off. Bliss.
Dresden was awesome because we stayed with a student who is very active in couch surfing. We had a horrendous day of traveling across the country. A snowstorm which hit the south of Germany (and much of the UK as we later found out) kicked the crap out of the DeutchesBahn network leaving us stuck on a train from Frankfurt to Dresden standing in the little accordion section between two cars with all our bags and not an inch of space. Needless to say, by the time we arrived at the Couchsurfing monthly meeting at Café-100 we needed a beer- badly. We had a great time exploring the city that was completely destroyed overnight by a bomb-raid in WWII and then rebuilt to look like a Medieval town as it did pre-war. We saw the church that was rebuilt, the Baroque ‘playground’ the old palace and many other beautiful sites. Though nothing quite sticks out like the piece-de-resistance that we went to Dresden just to see: Oh yes! The 2, 010 pound fruitcake that they wheel through the streets of the town to the famous Christmas market to be cut up and served to the locals. So weird but hey PROST! We had a blast in Dresden and I personally was not ready to leave. We had one moment in particular that was really special- our host made us homemade sushi. Ken has wanted to try this for a long time and I resisted because I thought it was way too hard, but it turns out its rather easy and I would gladly do it again. I’ll make an adventurous eater out of him yet!
So yeah, every day gets crazier and crazier. Seriously, I didn’t even melt down on our horrible travel day. I just laughed and knocked the cap off my bottle of beer and took a swig. I mean really, am I not the luckiest person right now? And I actually do feel it. I smile all the time. I generally thought of myself as a happy person before this but every day the dreams of where I would like my life to go become more and more concrete as I see things that I NEVER expected to see. And so, to dream the impossible dream, becomes, if not for an mere instant, to live the impossible life.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Chocolate, beer and waffles. And a little boy who pees.
Yikes! This is what happens when you are having fun. You don’t write any blog posts. But I have to say. The times are getting good. Brussels was a wild and wacky experience. We arrived midday to stay with a couchsurfer who had agreed to host us for 3 nights. He was having a party with a bunch of other people, mostly couch surfers and we had a wicked Moroccan meal then it was off to French class. I know, random right? Well this guy is really active within couchsurfing and he hosts these French conversation practice classes. Everyone just meets at a bar and the only rule is that you must speak French. It was awesome! I was totally in my element, and they considered me in the expert category… awesome. Plus I learned a great sentence to annoy my mother with: “Ca ne ma rien de la foutre.”
That night we were just hanging out at homebase and in pops another surfer! Now there were four of us. We ended up talking till 2 am with a Belgian guy, a Bosnian girl and a German girl.
Day one in Brussels found us getting a tour with our host, we saw the beautiful Gothic town hall and Grand Place, the Arc de Triomph ( I know…. I thought it was in Paris too, turns out, there are a few.) The Mannequin Pis. Did you know they dress him in little costumes? I tried my first Belgian waffle. Oh My God. I now know why they are famous. North American waffles do NOT compare. We saw the European union headquarters, the palace of justice, all the famous museums. It was all pretty excellent. I must say, Brussels is pretty dirty. Especially the central station. And there are a lot of homeless people. There was one guy in the underground system who I saw a bunch of times with three dogs and a rabbit. No seriously, a rabbit. Sheesh. On our tour we ended up picking up ANOTHER surfer from central station. She was an American girl who is working in Turkey. Later that night as we were all sitting around reading, chatting, planning the next stages of our travel, yet ANOTHER surfer arrived. One girl had left earlier that day so now we had 5 surfers. The whole heard of us went out for a beer late in the evening and it was seriously like a bunch of sheep following the sheppard.
Day two we went walking around some more. We ended up at the Magritte museum. I’m not especially versed in art but the surrealist style this guy used was pretty exciting. They also had a bunch of quotes of his on the walls. Ma favourite read:
“Tout ce que je sais de l’espoir que je met dans l’amour, c’est qu’il n’appartient qu’a une femme de lui donner une realite.”
We bid adieu to Brussels quite early day 3 and spent an afternoon in Ghent. A quaint medieval town that had a castle called the Gravensteen (the count’s castle). It was excellent exploring the building, the views of the city were gorgeous, and the information regarding the history of the town, dating back to the 12th century. It of course had other purposes since, a prison, a courthouse, apparently even a cotton factory. Now it’s an awesome museum with a lot of history of torture, complete with guillotine.
That night it was off ot Elseghem. A tiny village in the Belgian countryside where we met some of the most wonderful people I’ve ever encountered. We were some of the first Canadians to meet Ken’s distant Belgian relatives. They served us a beautiful meal, we got along really well, learning about life in Belgium. The conversation was often quite funny because they speak Flemish (a dialect of Dutch) and we know very little. Dank u well. We spent a perfect day walking around farm country (yay sheep!), meeting 2nd cousins twice removed, eating waffles and cheese, and drinking beer made by monks. We also took a trip to Ypres and saw Tyne Cott cemetery, the largest commonwealth cemetery in the world. It commemorates the soldiers who fought during the first world war, notably the battle of Passchedale. I found this absolutely breathtaking. 12, 000 gravestones. 35, 000 names of men missing in action. New Zealand seeing it’s greatest loss in the history of the country, nearly 1/6 of the population. My great grandfather fought in this battle and survived and I must say, Flanders Fields is probably the most powerful place I’ve ever visited. In the town of Ypres there is an arch that leads into the city centre that has many more names of fallen soldiers and every day at 8pm they do the Last Post. They have performed this ritual every single day since 1928. I shivered throughout the trumpet playing and looked around at over 200 people gathered. This apparently is a wonderfully normal occurrence. I felt down to my very core the truth of the words: “Never Forget”
Early the next morning it was travel time again this time GERMANY! We took a wonderfully long train from Elseghem to Brussels, Brussels to Cologne and the Cologne to Berlin. I think for most this would see annoying and long. It was long, but traveling is something we are really enjoying. It offers us time to sit, view the countryside, sleep, read, listen to music. Little things that we used to take for granted but are now quite special. Plus, first class all the way baby! Plus, on this day Ken and I celebrated 4 years together. Happy Anniversary!
That night we were just hanging out at homebase and in pops another surfer! Now there were four of us. We ended up talking till 2 am with a Belgian guy, a Bosnian girl and a German girl.
Day one in Brussels found us getting a tour with our host, we saw the beautiful Gothic town hall and Grand Place, the Arc de Triomph ( I know…. I thought it was in Paris too, turns out, there are a few.) The Mannequin Pis. Did you know they dress him in little costumes? I tried my first Belgian waffle. Oh My God. I now know why they are famous. North American waffles do NOT compare. We saw the European union headquarters, the palace of justice, all the famous museums. It was all pretty excellent. I must say, Brussels is pretty dirty. Especially the central station. And there are a lot of homeless people. There was one guy in the underground system who I saw a bunch of times with three dogs and a rabbit. No seriously, a rabbit. Sheesh. On our tour we ended up picking up ANOTHER surfer from central station. She was an American girl who is working in Turkey. Later that night as we were all sitting around reading, chatting, planning the next stages of our travel, yet ANOTHER surfer arrived. One girl had left earlier that day so now we had 5 surfers. The whole heard of us went out for a beer late in the evening and it was seriously like a bunch of sheep following the sheppard.
Day two we went walking around some more. We ended up at the Magritte museum. I’m not especially versed in art but the surrealist style this guy used was pretty exciting. They also had a bunch of quotes of his on the walls. Ma favourite read:
“Tout ce que je sais de l’espoir que je met dans l’amour, c’est qu’il n’appartient qu’a une femme de lui donner une realite.”
We bid adieu to Brussels quite early day 3 and spent an afternoon in Ghent. A quaint medieval town that had a castle called the Gravensteen (the count’s castle). It was excellent exploring the building, the views of the city were gorgeous, and the information regarding the history of the town, dating back to the 12th century. It of course had other purposes since, a prison, a courthouse, apparently even a cotton factory. Now it’s an awesome museum with a lot of history of torture, complete with guillotine.
That night it was off ot Elseghem. A tiny village in the Belgian countryside where we met some of the most wonderful people I’ve ever encountered. We were some of the first Canadians to meet Ken’s distant Belgian relatives. They served us a beautiful meal, we got along really well, learning about life in Belgium. The conversation was often quite funny because they speak Flemish (a dialect of Dutch) and we know very little. Dank u well. We spent a perfect day walking around farm country (yay sheep!), meeting 2nd cousins twice removed, eating waffles and cheese, and drinking beer made by monks. We also took a trip to Ypres and saw Tyne Cott cemetery, the largest commonwealth cemetery in the world. It commemorates the soldiers who fought during the first world war, notably the battle of Passchedale. I found this absolutely breathtaking. 12, 000 gravestones. 35, 000 names of men missing in action. New Zealand seeing it’s greatest loss in the history of the country, nearly 1/6 of the population. My great grandfather fought in this battle and survived and I must say, Flanders Fields is probably the most powerful place I’ve ever visited. In the town of Ypres there is an arch that leads into the city centre that has many more names of fallen soldiers and every day at 8pm they do the Last Post. They have performed this ritual every single day since 1928. I shivered throughout the trumpet playing and looked around at over 200 people gathered. This apparently is a wonderfully normal occurrence. I felt down to my very core the truth of the words: “Never Forget”
Early the next morning it was travel time again this time GERMANY! We took a wonderfully long train from Elseghem to Brussels, Brussels to Cologne and the Cologne to Berlin. I think for most this would see annoying and long. It was long, but traveling is something we are really enjoying. It offers us time to sit, view the countryside, sleep, read, listen to music. Little things that we used to take for granted but are now quite special. Plus, first class all the way baby! Plus, on this day Ken and I celebrated 4 years together. Happy Anniversary!
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