Just South Of Amsterdam...Is A Small City (Breda)

Dutch Pancakes! And Van Gogh

Pancakes and a Touch of That Sting. Yes, Breakfast is a Serious Ordeal.




Got Futbol? Got Spirit!


Tobias and The Look

Day (2) in Amsterdam and we went biking, again. This time, we didn't cycle as far because of how much territory we covered the prior evening. Tamarah and I trekked to the Dutch House of Pancakes for lemon/sugar pancakes (She ordered bacon). These are flat, and doughy with slight crisp on the edge. Delicious! I cannot get enough of the fresh fruit and bread --The Vincent Van Gogh Museum was next, which was such a treat. Dad -- We even took the audio tour!! This is something I could even help with - biographical and even psychological analysis of an artist and his/her body of work as interpreted by artists and critiques alike. What I wouldn't give to work on this in the future! I purchased a small print of "The Sower" for 8,00 euros, soon to be lost very soon after, along with my only jacket, and my hostel confirmations (Thank goodness for family -- printers galore!)...Yes, I lost my first few important items on this trip. Considering that it was a personal souvenir, it wasn't too much of a loss. All of the rest of you have your trinkets in tact in my suitcase. Blessed are you! We spent the evening at Vondel Park having a picnic for dinner (very much like Central Park in NY where crowds relax around the ponds and paths)..The end of the day we celebrated a friend's end of her educational internship. Proost! A beautiful day.


The Girls: Tamarah, Carlein, Anneflor

Cycling in Crazy Streets with No Direction Home

Reading and cards home on the trein from Paris to the Netherlands




Streets of Amsterdam

I meant to mention on my last blog, two new friends I met, one an Aussie who is living in Paris, Marcus, the second a Danish, Jesper, both musicians, both travelers well=versed in Paris culture by now, I am certain. I spent the evening mainly with the Danish hobo (That's what he calls us travelers - I like it!). I have to say this was one of my favorite nights so far...I love a good conversation and I was swimming in liters of murky philosphical and opinionated discussions until well after 2:00am, it was another long night in Paris, although I spent it sitting in the lobby of the hostel after dinner with Nicole. Funny, you say? C'est increyable...but 'tis true, my friend. And -- I hope to have more soon. I detoured to the Netherlands for visiting with family, which was a welcome departure from dirty showers and sweaty laundry. I spent the last two days in Amsterdam with my sweet cousin, Tamarah and her boyfriend, Tobias, who I encountered for the first time. From the evening I arrived, I was put on a bicycle and asked to maneuver through the unusual streets of the city. When I say unusual, I mean dangerous! The city has laws I'm sure, for bicycles and four-wheeled vehicles alike, but I didn't see signs clearly posted. Instead, you "biked"for it, ran out of the way if you were a pedestrian, or tailgated cyclists on your way left and right in shiny BMWs. We had dinner at a nice Middle-eastern/Turkish restaurant and it lightly rained later when we drove to a cafe for drinks along the canals. Drinks by the Reine turned out to be my favorite pasttime. Whether it was Juliper, Heineken, or un cafe ...Wonderful time to spend a few hours with friends.






Cycling in Vondel Park

Champ De Mars et Hostels in Paris

Sò beautiful. Gorgeous. I spent Sunday going to Le Louvre and the Champ De Mars for La Tour Eiffel. The whole day presented no difficulties and I enjoyed spending the entire time looking at art, playing in the fountain outside Le Louvre and enjoying the delicious formage - French cheese - while people-watching. There was no one to tug on my arm to get more souvenirs and take cheesy photos. Just myself, listening to all the dialects, languages, couples and idosyncracies of each culture. Some things were disappointing. For example, the crowds of silly tourists surrounding the Mona Lisa. How can I enjoy something when I can't even see it? I'd rather go in the middle of a blizzard when no one wants to see Le Louvre. Le Tour Eiffel was impressive, although the walking guards from the French Republic Army were imposing and quite an austere combination with their machine guns staring at me. I took in the sights of the local scene when checking in to my second hostel. This one was more fun than the first because although I had my own room, I didn't truly have an ëxperience as I met no one at Hotel Richard. Not the case this time. Within 5 minutes I had met the hostel "concierge", Guillermo at the front desk. (2) women from Denmark who I shared a room with, Charlotte and another girl I can't pronounce her name - Filjk? My first American tourist friend, Nicole, arrived from a trip to Belgium/Netherlands as my third roommate right after my check-in. We shared some wine and french food nearby and I discovered a person who was living my dream. Nicole finished her masters in Gender Studies at Dublin just a month ago, I believe, then decided to apply for a masters degree at a small town outside of Paris

Le Louvre and La Turet Eiffel

Mon Cherie / Je Taime Paris

First Night in Europe. First Night in Paris. Crepe Sucre et un cafe.


Bonjour Americanos! Getting my first international phone card at the London King's Cross (That's where Harry Potter gets on the train at Platform 9 and three-quarters!!! No - I didn't meet Hermione Granger. That would have been too good to be true.) I checked in and the customs official, who smiled and said, "Is this your first time in Paris?" with a distinct french accent. I shly said yes and he met me with a wink and "Well, this will be quite special for you, then. Surprisingly, as soon as I stepped through that customs gate with the France stamp on my passport, it was a different world. The counter staff in the gift shops and cafes in the terminal all spoke French and I could see some of them trying not to laugh at me. There's something to be said for being an American. French, especially, seem to assume you don't know anything. Or, that there is always a smile playing just behind their face. Hard to tell what they are thinking. (Intelligence, I think, is another way of putting it. They are quite sly.) I met a 14-year old Parisian who started speaking French to me right away and this is only because I had used a few words. "Bonjour" and "Comment tal y vous?" were some of the basics. Fourteen years old and traveling with a summer group to London! This is what I'm talking about --traveling internationally at such a young age. What a wonderful experience. She was friendly as soon as I explained I spoke very little. Sweet girl. Her and I had issues with our ticket so we had to wait inbetween cars until we could get a "tip up" for cancelled seats and get an actual seat on the train. Interesting how that works. I also met a Parisian on the train, when I sat down. She was originally from London, though, so she spoke to me in English quite easily and helped me find the correct rail to get into the part of the city I needed for my very first night's stay in Europe. I was quite a bit tired and I guarantee I looked like a jack-in-the-box on the double decker tour and on the Eurostar train to Paris - but all of it added up to a certain amount of sleep so I dragged my but to the metro for travel by Ligne une (Line 1) to (9) for exit at Voltaire. My new Parisian friend also introduced me to her husband and he handed me a ticket for the metro. Didn't even have to buy one. What luck!

As I was catching my metro from Gar De Nord to Ligne Une, I peeked outside and saw a few of the distinct lamplights Paris is known for. I couldn't help but light up inside. I cannot believe I'm here, I thought. It was a moment where I felt tears of happiness fill up inside. I didn't cry but I had that sensation creeping up to my throat where I felt a lot of emotion at once. I don't think London quite hit me in the same way because a) They speak English, b) It has character, but somehow reminded me of New York (In a good way...but still not quite the shock I was expecting). I hopped on the lignes and made it safely to Voltaire, although once I hopped up the stairs, only to discover I couldn´t find my bus `46` to ´Japy´. It was getting darker, so instead of panicking, I walked around the same block twice trying to find the stop. On the second turn around, carrying all of my heavy baggage, I found my bus, pulling away. I ran after the bus, as well I could with my extra weight pulling on my shoulders, and the bus driver turned to me long enough to shake his head, as if to say, `No, no, no, mademoiselle. I don´t think so. You, American, you!` I turned right around and decided to make my way to ´Japy`, even though I had directions on no kind from the hostel. Just a sign pointing a certain way. The french locals were trying not to laugh as I passed the same 2 cafes three times, at least. Made it to Hotel Richard, pronouned o/tel Ree/sh/ah, and checked in. Decided I couldn´t wait to jump in the shower, and made my bed. I´m so glad I brought my sheets with me! Pleasantly surprised to discover that although I was on the third floor, I wasn´t sharing with anyone but me. A whole room to myself. Tres bon! In Europe, The third floor means 4 floors up from the ground on a very narrow staircase. I´ve already become accustomed to this on my third day here.) Couldn´t wait to eat something and made my way to the same cafe in which I´m sure my American navigation skills were witnessed. The bartender-server provided me with un cafe et crepe sucre. Not only did I observe a wonderful meal /I love pastries for a late lunch°dinner. Whatever~ A frenchman offered to buy me a drink, and he ended up buying me dinner. Voila! So salade fous de gras later and I met some good/looking frenchman in the second restaurant we went to. Picture below~ and then went to Rue de Lappe for some dancing. I end up coming home late, but safely, and met my first friends from the hostel. The conversations were of very little substance as it was after 2am. Nonetheless. A great first day.

The Bridge, The People...London

London Calling

Arrival in Dublin was nice. Pairs of blue eyes and dark hair were everywhere. Why was I leaving? However -- I did get right back into another plane and landed in England not even an hour later. Taking the Heathrow express directly into the city, I discovered I could get a discounted double decker bus tour by purchasing through the train station for 18 pounds. It is a good thing, too. The pound is worth twice a US dollar. Spent the next 45 minutes eating carnation chicken on foccaccia at a lovely internet cafe (No, my alternator didn't work as an outlet for my laptop.) Spent the next few hours on a double decker bus seeing Buckingham Palace, The London Bridge, the Parliament Building, hearing about The Globe (No - we couldn't see it from the bus) and the Eye of London. I must say, the disappointing thing is that the main reason for visiting Shakespeare's town was just for ...a reason to see Shakespeare in his home country. Staying in New York did take away the distinct pleasure, but on the other hand, being able to see all of that city at once was special. I really wanted to take the river cruise on the Thames, but it just wasn't possible as I had to catch a train to ...The City of Lights.

Jetting...

What Kimberly looks like when she misses her flight. And -- spends one less day in Europe.



Second day on vacation. I write to you from a hostel in the middle of Paris, on the West side. Arrival in London was smooth, although an entire 24-hours after I was supposed to be there. My stay in Buffalo turned out to be fantastic as I had a local tour guide who took me downtown, and we met a few friends who were able to share a few drinks, dinner and a couple games of pool. I guarantee it was better than going to JFK and spending the night in the airport. I'm certain I would have stayed with my luggage and spent my time trying to use the Wifi, instead of finding a last-minute hostel or hotel. As luck would have it, I flew in on-time the next morning at 8:40am and spent the afternoon in Central Park, which I'd never been to. Superb. I spent 2 hours trying to get back to JFK after running around the park with my luggage (NOT FUN) and this was because I still haven't figured out the New york subway...Sometimes we have to learn the hard way, I suppose. In any case, I made it just in time at 4:30pm or so for the Aer Lingus airlines to change my ticket (They don't come in to the ticket counter until 2:00pm and that's why I left the airport for Central Park.) I flew through security sweating profusely and substantially enough that it was possible I scared my companion in the seat next to me. He, apparently, was considerate enough to pretend I didn't smell funny. The man next to me turned out to be Irish and to have a seven-hr companion you can talk to is a very good thing. Especially one that lets you breathe for a bit of sleep, as well. I definitely lucked out. I was flying through Dublin to London, which would explain how I ended up with an Irishman, and before you knew it...I was promising to come back and visit Dublin within the year. Who would have thought? I already promised to travel before I even touched on overseas soil. Could not help myself...

The Thrill Has Quelled

Bad weather in New York has caused incalculable damage to my itinerary this evening. NYC is where my plane was this afternoon. My Buffalo plane that was supposed to take me to NYC, not sit there like a lame duck. So -- my 1:11 pm turned into a 3:15 departure, which turned into a 4:40 departure. Which turned into a 7:45 departure. By this time, my 5:40pm from JFK to London was definitely lost. The helpful guy at the Aer Lingus reservation desk announced that he could do nothing for me over the phone, except tell me to go to the check-in counter and log a "missed connection" at JFK. A missed connection! (And don't think that there was no fee -- he reminded me of a $125 "policy" because I purchased tickets for the vacation and for business travel separately.) Ugh.

So, I have now been rescheduled to leave at 8:40am to JFK tomorrow, since I'll either be sleeping in the JFK airport tonight or the Buffalo Marriott. Tough choice. The guy behind the Jet Blue counter was terrific, though. His eyes had severe pity in them. I could almost see my running black eyeliner, which was now more charcoal and smudged underneath my lids -- it was reflected in his face. "This girl needs help." So...he wrote me a letter of recommendation (for lack of better vocabulary) so that the next airline can watch me cry and waive the $125 policy. Hopefully.

Realistic? Possible? Yes. Probable? Maybe. (ha. Maybe. Probable. Could I be any more definitive of the term "probable"? No.) So, I'm spending the night here in Buffalo. For the moment, I'm camped out in the lobby. One of my colleagues here will probably entertain me, since I probably look like I've been hit by a bus. Surprisingly, I feel less like that, and more like the guy who gets struck by a brilliant idea and then strikes out because someone in upper management said his idea stinks. Oh. Sorry. Shouldn't have said that. I'm really NOT trying to funnel my corporation bitterness anywhere...TOO public, that is.

In the meantime, I meant that my anticipation for this trip has temporarily been disabled. I'm on autopilot until I finally get to London. Like the guy who got his great idea canned, my expectations have been dashed. I'm not in the middle of my dream vacation yet. When I land on overseas soil, then, it will seem real. For now, it is just travel. With no destination yet.

Buffalo's Got sTyLe!

Bon Voyage Party

A Layover is A Good Story...So how about 5 of them?

First Day of the Adventure

Breathlessly arriving into John Wayne airport, I check-in at the front desk via electronic ticket. Only – my credit card, my license and my e-ticket confirmation number do not compute with this check-in, as expected. The woman behind the counter takes my license and informs me after a few agonizing moments...

-Did I actually purchase this reservation?
-What if I don’t get to New York on time?
-What if I don't have time to get into the office before my event on Tuesday?
-Did I forget to buy the tickets? No, it isn't possible.

My flight has been cancelled. This means that my original departure at 8:23pm is now 9:40pm and instead of one layover, I will stop in Vegas, then D.C. and I won't even land at JFK, but rather at La Guardia-New York. I count my extended stay at John Wayne as a layover (Especially because it was over an hour after my boarding time and my departure time. Ick.) I stop in Vegas and end up sitting next to some really tall black dudes who happen to play Illinois basketball, not just for fun. They are players from Chicago who were in Vegas for 2 weeks. It doesn't dawn on me that they are anybody famous. a) I don't watch basketball b) Not a big deal anyway

The one who asked me what I was in Vegas for and why -- he is called "D", apparently he goes by "Dee Brown", as I am handed a copy of a hip hop cd. P He adds me on Myspace -- this is the big thing these days, guys. I'm sorry I keep giving in. I hardly want to become a Myspace champion, but I still find it interesting to read what people chose to say about themselves and the pictures posted for the whole world to see. Never dull, that's for sure.

So...not long after, I got on a plane to D.C., then got on a plane to New York, then decided I was too tired to drive to Buffalo as per original plan, and bought a ticket to Philly, then finally to Buffalo, since it was the best one available. Now that I'm finally here, I'm destressing a bit only because my room is amazing. My event planner decided to impress me because I've been working on this event for months and he requested the hotel staff treat me as a VIP. They handed me room keys to a suite for the next few days and I'm reminded of the fact that I'll be staying in youth hostels and 1-star hotels, where they might be bugs. My room is a 2-room suite with a huge dining room and its own entryway and so on. I'll show you pictures when I get them. Talk to you soon...

My First Stop Will Be in London...7/26

And this is my preliminary blogging to say that I'm very excited to be going on this trip and cannot wait to do everything, including the part about deciding what to pack. After intense laborious research, I've decided not to take my laptop, dvd player, or iPod and live off basic essentials: toothpaste, lotion, Saline contact solution, face wash, clothes, ....and of course, books!!!

If you want to donate a favorite book for my trip, come find me before July 20th so I can fit in my suitcase. I've decided to bring these so far:

The Woman Destroyed by Simone de Beauvoir
The Bible
Barbabas (donated by Nikki!)