Money For Nothing

Our first day in Berlin was absolutely spectacular. We slept in and awoke to a crystal-clear sky. After sipping coffee and taking our time to get ready, we hopped on the metro line and rode down to the Brandenberg Gate. From there, we met up with a free walking tour that took us through the city for more than five hours, explaining the significance of each special building and location we came across. In a word, it rocked. Afterward, we wandered the city streets (as is now habit) and eventually came across a pub that promised "Live Music Tonight @ 22:00." We decided to duck in and check it out. In no way was this worth the wait. Eventually, two men stood before us with guitars and a bass/drum track player to lead each song for them. The opening song on the setlist was an overly cheesey and canned version of "Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits. The lyricist sounded as if he knew the way the song sounded, but was not actually aware of what any of the sounds (words) he was singing meant. Aaron and I could not stop laughing - in fact, it got so bad we had to leave. Horrible music, but great times. Love you all!

I thought our flight left at 8:45...

We almost got to spend another night in London.  The story is far to long and complicated to adequately convey here, but know that we somehow made it onto a train that delivered us to the airport 5 minutes before check-in closed, ran through the terminal, got hasseled by security, I got lost and stranded (literally) in a part of the airport that had no public exit and had to be shuttled across the tarmack by security in a van, and still made our (thankfully delayed) flight to Berlin.  I woke up this morning and remembered immediately that I was in Germany when I saw the framed David Hasselhoff album hanging opposite my bed.  Delightful.  That's all for now, but I'll try to type up the whole Stansted Airport debacle later today.  Cheers!

This is Stonehenge

Just track with me for a minute. Let's say that there is some other race of highly intelligent, technologically advanced creatures living somewhere in relatively close proximity to the planet Earth. Now let's suspend reality further and imagine that these people (or martians, or whatever you want to call them) were able to out-engineer the harsh vacuum of outer space and somehow overcome the massive power demands necessary to travel between the stars. We can assume that of all the countless dots in their nighttime sky, they arbitrarily picked our sun and traveled for several (probably even hundreds of) years to our little blue planet. Assuming all of this had come to pass, I simply cannot believe that the only thumbprint these super-advanced people would leave here is Stonehenge. It's truly just a bunch of rocks. I'm glad I saw these stones with my own two eyes, but if aliens ever do visit this planet, they better leave something way cooler than the Henge.
We also went to the City of Bath, which was remarkably nice. Almost all the buildings are built out of a beautiful honey-colored rock called, aptly enough, Bathstone. There is a lot of Roman history here and the whole town has a very nice, relaxed feel. Today, I'm off to find Wembley Stadium, a guitar, and a plane ride to Berlin. Cheers!

Make It Mine

Based upon my activities today, I can only hypothesise that the English have a very unique look at history, which goes something like this: 'If our stories are not interesting enough, we'll just liberated those which belong someone else and use them as our own.' I came to this conclusion while walking through the British Museum this afternoon. Britain's largest and surely most impressive gallery is filled to the teeth with gorgeous antiquities and relics of human history - there are mummies from ancient Egypt, Buddhas from all over East and Southeast Asia, The Rosetta Stone itself, and even nearly every surviving fresco and statue from the original Parthenon in Athens. Each of these pieces is interesting in their own right, yet it seemed almost as interesting to me that they could all be found under one roof. In London. It seems that in years past, Her Majesty's Royal Navy was privy to pack and ship anything that was not mortared into the bedrock back to the archives in London to ensure "preservation and care taking for the sake of mankind." All sarcasm aside, I was humbled and amazed time and again as I browsed through the serpentine corridors of this massive structure. The best part?...free admission (but the mummies were a close second).
Oh yeah, we went to a Jason Mraz concert tonight too. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Off to Stonehenge and Bath tomorrow, and we just might be able to meet up with Winston's mom and dad. Brilliant!

The Bard

Big Ben and the Tower Bridge were both very cool, and I'm glad we saw them both, but today's most brilliant star shone from the stage. After a fantastic day of touring and shopping, we sat down for an authentic English pub Fish & Chips Dinner before heading down the Shakespeare's Globe Theatre for an evening of civilized entertainment. Our bellies satisfied whit deep-fried fantasies, we waddled into the circular theatre and took our standing positions in the general admission section (5 Quid for tickets - the best value of our trip!). For the next 3 hours, our minds bounced to the iambic pentameter of Timon of Athens, a play I knew nothing about before but thoroughly enjoyed. The actor playing the lead in this uplifting tale of greed, deceit, bitterness and murder was a both incredibly talented and uncannily similar in appearance to James Taylor. For those unfamiliar with the play, Timon spends the entire second act wearing nothing but a loincloth, so as I watched part of me kept hoping I would get to see a performance of 'You've Got a Friend' by a grown man wearing a diaper. If only all my dreams came true...

London Calling

We hopped a bus to London for £10 today, leaving the hallowed ground of Liverpool in our memories. Kudos to Adam for finding this bus - the train costs about £100 and only saves about an hour in time. Instead, we took a peaceful jaunt through Northern Wales and Central England. As I stared out the window and watched the lush hills and ancient hedgerows weave in and out of one another like a massive afghan blanket, I half expected to see Hobbits milking the cows and herding the sheep. In this idyllic setting, our bus driver stood out as a beacon of all things unsettling and wrong with this world. We arrived to the bus station at 7:59 (the bus was supposed to leave at 8:00) and listened to the short, crimson, heavyset man weave a cloud of unitnelligible obscenity regarding our alleged tardiness and how we were going to make everyone late. In my mind, I wanted to point out the fact that had this bafoon not spent 3 minutes berating us, we could have left on time, but it seemed that I should pick my battles wisely when in a foreign land. He trash-talked the toll booth operators as we passed through their gates and yelled at anyone who wanted to stop for a smoke. Curiously enough, when he needed a smoke, we pulled off the freeway without pause, and he proceeded to flirt with every cute young woman that got off the bus. Classic. I'm actually glad this man verbally assualted me - at least I have something to laugh about.
London is beautiful. The Underground is amazingly easy to use and makes traversing Europe's second-largest city quite easy. We went up in the Eye (huge, glorified ferris wheel) tonight and then had a beer at a pub next to Big Ben. Good times.

The Red Sea

- Saturday -

Sweaty palms. Short breaths. I can feel the roots of the hairs in my neck straining, writhing, fighting to push through the skin on the back of my neck. Pacing back and forth, I am entirely myopic-even when I deliberately try to let my mind wander, the effort comes to no avail. ''Where is he?!?'' is all that my mind can process. The dance of fright and frustration in my mind is too much to bear. I'm worried about ulcers-I can feel them forming now! Oh no, oh no. What am I going to do?
If any of this sounds unsettling or awful to you, take my advice: don't buy highly-demanded tickets to a football game on Craigslist. And if for some reason you do, don't prepay using PayPal. It just causes anguish. Eventually, Paul did show up with my tickets (45 minutes late) and I almost gave him a hug. All my stress was fou naught (the story of my life, go figure). The weight of this opportunity to go to a Liverpool home match is something that I cannot adequately convey in words, so let me leave you with this simple explanation: the match ended in a 0-0 tie, and I still loved every second of the experience. Watching and participating with the sea of red shirts as it jumped, swayed, screamed and sang brought a sense of enchantment to me that I've not experienced since going to Disneyworld. I've got tons of pictures, and I'll tell anyone all about it, but I've been too long winded already.

Free Internet at Last!

Hi all. Sorry about my recent truancy, but when the Internet costs £4.00 an hour (about $8.00) other, tastier expenses come first. In any case, here's a quick rundown of the last few days:

- Thursday -
A mysterious glowing orb appeared in the sky today and the entire city of Dublin seemed quite befuddled for several minutes. Then, as if on cue, we all simultaneously realized that it was in fact the Sun and we were destined for a warm and beautiful day. Adam and I rode the DART (like the MAX) half an hour south of the City and went to Dalkey Castle. This was incredibly cheesey. Our ''guides'' through the small castle were actually struggling Irish actors straining to convey the misery of life in the Middle Ages through modern Brittish humor. Much of this was lost on us. The city of Dalkey, however, was gorgeous - small, affluent and quaint, it felt like the small, Irish country hamlet that most Americans picture when they think of Ireland. We walked to the sea and enjoyed the sunshine while watching the surf come into the harbor. Fantastic. Tonight we ventured to a commedy club and found ourselves as the ''star'' audience members, in that once the commedians found out we were American, every joke was either at our expense or painstakingly explained so that we could understand it. I was even brought up on stage to play ''Risk the Biscut'' a competition so convoluted and foolish that I could not for the life of me tell you what I was supposed to be doing. That said, I laughed my butt off.

- Friday -
Our last day in Dubling was rather relaxing. We got up a little late, checked out of the hostel and walked the three miles to Killemann Gaol (an old jail in the western outskirts of the city center). This was acutally rather interesting and Adam and I both got some sweet pictures. We split up after that and I wandered another several miles to the south trying to find a music store. I finally did, and was able to play a guitar for about an hour before the clerk told me to get lost. Again wandering aimlessley (as I've found many travellers do), I came upon another instrument seller, which I again utilized until they closed for the evening. After dinner, we headed out the airport and rode a 20 minute (literally) Ryanair flight to Liverpool. Looking around the concourse prior to boarding, I realized that about half the people on the plane were headed to the Merseyside for the exact reason I was: a religesque pilgrimage to Anfield.

That's all for now. I'll fill y'all in on the weekend later this evening.

Cheers.

24

Have you ever had a birthday when you knew you should feel special, but for whatever reason you just didn't? That's kind of what it's like when all your friends (except one) are thousands of miles away on the day you get to celebrate your existence. So, what did I do to remedy this situation? I celebrated the greatest achievement in beverages since the discovery of water - Guinness Draught. What's more, there were thousands of other ''new friends'' to celebrate with me. All joking aside, today was really fascinating. We saw castles, prisons and the world's single largest brewery all before dinner. St James's Gate Brewery is fantastic beyond measure. The Irish really know how to celebrate beer. Seven stories of exhibits all devoted to the progress of the gospel of Guinness. It kind of strangely felt like we were in the Church of Beer, but instead of leading worship, they served us drinks! I'm having a blast and keeping myself out of trouble. Pretty awesome so far...

Day 1 (i.e. I'm way too jetlagged to come up with a creative title)

Note to Reader: Use a ''wise-ass Ty Williams voice'' when reading the the following first sentance of this blog:

Wow - Who would've guessed it would cold and raining in Ireland? In spite of the less than savory weather (it really doesn't matter), I'm overly excited to be overseas and had a wonderful first day in Europe. We arrived early this morning and I, unable to sleep on the airplane, have been somewhat of a zombie ever since. However, we saw some amazing ancient books at Trinity College and walked through the most ornate and inspiring library I've ever seen afterward. We stumbled blindly into Ireland's largest shopping district, and spent the better part of an hour discussing Russian foreign policy with a guy who wanted to sell me a watch. After checking into the hostel (and napping) we wandered to the Temple Bar District and watched the Liverpool game on TV with an incredibly friendly Dutch guy named Baus (we called him ''Boss''). Upon our glorious victory, I found myself meandering aimlessly in a Liverpool-induced (and Guinness-enhanced) euphoria-daze. I led us to a bar with live Irish music, and hung around for a long time listening, singing and spacing out to some really fun folk tunes. Travel rocks...I am blessed.