European Vagary

So. Paris. We ended up having to rip ourselves out of bed to make it to the bus station so we could make our flight. The bus station was disgusting, full of flies and everything(one) smelled awful. We were exhausted and slept intermittently throughout the travel experience and finally wound up in Paris in the late morning. Except we weren't allowed to check in until 4. Four. Quattro. Cuatro. Quatre. Do you understand what I'm saying? Terrible check in time. ABC, Le Village, ABC. So we decided to head out and about and grab some food and get acquainted with the culture. Little did we know, the culture was not particularly interested in getting acquainted with us. We grabbed a table at a bistro and attempted to people watch. Until we got stared down by the waiter for attempting to order in English. So we spent the next hour timidly sipping our beers and carrying on a conversation in Spanish with an 80 year old man named Javier. He invited us to tango. Thus, in sp...

So kayaking and snorkeling went well. If you call a swarm of jellyfish well. Which I obviously do. It all started quite unassumingly. I saw something that looked like a white piece of trash bobbing innocently on a rock. I peered into the depths and after a lot of pondering, decided that it was a jellyfish. I told the guide (BJ) and he dove down and confirmed my suspicions. I wasn't surprised and had already named the jellyfish squisherwhistle. BJ swam us over to another area to get away from squisherwhistle. Which I thought was a bit dramatic, but I suppose that's why I'm not the guide. Thank god he swam us over there, because we were promptly surrounded by a swarm of yellow jellyfish with purple spots. Which also sting. So we cried uncle and swam toward shore. On the way, I saw a small pink jellyfish with loooong clear tentacles looming menacingly... A FOOT in front of my face. Something about that jellyfish struck fear into my heart. I think it was the color. Also, we kay...

So we're in Barcelona now. Yes, I'm aware I didn't blog throughout our entire stay in Ibiza. Ibiza's not a very bloggy place. So I suppose I must reach back into the bowels of my memory and talk about our last moments in Rome. The next day after the last post, Jessie and I wanted to experience another quintessentially Roman day, so we wandered/ate/caffeinated. That night, we went to the Spanish Steps to meet Robbie and his friend Clyde. We saw a free opera and then went on a third walking tour of Rome. What can we say, we like to walk. We wound up in Trastevere and stopped at a bar for birre. Also, Jessie and I took Clyde to get chocolate shots. The three of us decided we wanted to head over to La Maison and see what was what. So I took everyone on a little Tevere adventure and we eventually wound up at La Maison. Or some sort of old person convention, masquerading as La Maison. People were, no joke, waltzing in this club. The club looked exactly the same. ...

Jessie's in the room asleep right now and it's giving me serious writer's block. I can't blog without her anymore because so many things happen every day and it all runs together in my head. Jessie's the only one who can keep it straight. Whew, she just showed up and we've managed to write down a list of everything that has happened. I'm tempted to just publish the list. Anywho, here are a few things that happened that I failed to mention in my last post: First, when we were hanging out with the guys in Trastevere, Jessie and I walked away for a moment to buy new beers. When we were crossing the street, this Italian guy stopped us. "Excuse me. I am a very very straight man and I want you to know I think you are very attractive. So I want to know. Would you sleep with me right now?" My response? "Not right now ..." "OHHHH, so MAYBE LATER!!!!! Okay, thank you!!!" And he leaves. Uhhhhh, okaaaaaaaayyyyyyy... Also, ther...

Stiamo a Roma! I'm going to be completely honest with you guys. Because I'm pretty sure only my mom reads this blog. I haven't cried in a long while. I don't know why and I'm not sure how I feel about it. But once we landed in Ciampino and were on the bus through Rome to get to Termini, I began to feel overwhelmed with a desire to stay. It's like I'm reliving my last 5 days in Rome all over again. That feeling of being ripped away from everything that I am. And I cried. Jessica is my external hard drive of emotion so naturally she cried too. She's already cried multiple times. I kid you not, she cries every time it would be appropriate for me to cry and I can't. Examples to follow. So after we got to Termini, we walked over to our hostel and I ended up having to ask directions. I'm pleased to report that my Italian came flooding back, like riding a bike. We found the hostel and once we got settled in I took Jessie over to Trastevere...

Why should I mind my P's and Q's, you ask? Well, the origin of the phrase is... honestly I don't feel like writing it out. If you haven't heard the story, I recommend wikipedia. But it is relevant to today. Because at one point Jessie and I wound up in a pub and definitely DID NOT mind our P's and Q's. But we'll get to that. So we woke up late this morning. And by this morning I mean yesterday morning. Because it's 5:30 in the morning and I just got home. Wooooooo. After waking up we went to the Post Office to run an errand. Because we're RESPONSIBLE GIRLS. That was for you Mom. After the Post Office we got majorly rained on. Because it's London and that's how London rolls. We ran into a kitchen supply shop and asked them where we could get afternoon tea. The lady told us to go to Piccadilly. Off we went with nary a qualm. We found Piccadilly and were struck with the realization that: this is where we should have been the whole...

It took Jessie a full minute to wake me up this morning. Apparently she shook me for a while. I don't know about that, but I do remember having a dream about an earthquake. So we got ready, went down and grabbed free continental breakfast, and ran out the door to the tube station. Tubed it over to Baker Street in an attempt to find the McDonalds where we were supposed to be picked up for our day trip. As soon as we stepped off the subway, 10 minutes ahead of schedule, I turned to Jessie and mused, "I wonder why the guy at the hostel told us to take 30 minutes to get here, the ride only took about 5". Her response was, "He must have thought we were too stupid to find it". And we laughed. Turns out front desk guy was right. About the stupidity. We spent about 10 minutes walking down the wrong street before we realized our error. At that point, we had the adventure of running around central London like stupid Americans. So basically your average Tuesday m...

Hello all. Currently in Europe fighting over computers at the hostel. Lovely. Actually Jessie's fighting. Quite a scrapper that one. So the flight into London went well. It was long but I slept so I didn't really notice. Upon landing I loaded myself up on caffeine and waited for Jessie's plane to arrive. FINALLY she showed up, walking out of the international terminal. It was a reunion for the ages. A scene out of Love Actually. Then we caught up on the past month and a half and tubed our way to our hostel (Palmer's Lodge). It's a good hostel. Still a hostel, but there's free internet and breakfast so they're covering all the important bases. After dropping our bags off we went to a bar and tried a couple of bizarre drinks. Pictures were taken and will be posted upon my return to the ole USofA. Then we went to see the London Eye (overpriced) and the Tower of London (therapy session ensued... more productive than sightseeing, quite frankly). Th...