It's hard to believe, but I'm actually writing this post from Arkansas, which means my summer in Europe has come to an end. Roughly 2 months ago I embarked on a journey that had lots of questions with just a couple of answers: I was going to Cambridge, England, I was sharing a shower, had no air conditioning and had no clue what the next two months had in store for me. What I found out was it was a trip of a lifetime. It's funny how things work out. You sit and think about a trip like this for months. The pros, the cons, the money, the "what ifs" and "why nots" and after it's all over, you tell yourself you would do it again in a heartbeat. I guess that's what this is all about, taking chances, cashing in on opportunities like a winning lottery ticket, and finally making as many memories as possible. I think I speak for my group of 8 when I say, mission accomplished.
After our trip to Scotland, we just had a short time left to enjoy Cambridge. We were blessed with the visit of some friends from Mississippi, Katie and Sarah, who had the honor of staying on Lensfield Road for a few days and experiencing Cambridge life, including pub golf and a foam party, with us. I'm pretty sure Cambridge did not dissapoint on all accounts. These two were thrown into the group from the second they got into town, and handled it quite well I must say. They even got to enjoying a Camrbidge tradition: Punting. That's one thing I will miss for sure, 70 degree afternoons on a boat, good people, good drinks and taking turns trying to guide this boat with a 20 foot stick. Makes for a good way to pass time. Pub Golf is also something all should try at some point. Let me just say, it's not easy. I'm not going to take the time to explain, but it's one of the toughest courses I've ever played. Horne, hat's off to you, buddy. You would be a Ryder Cup Team Captain pick for sure. Ok, so on to the sobby stuff...
I always complained about my room; no air conditioning, bathroom down the hallway, a bed on wheels that could be used as an oversized skateboard, but the funny thing is, I had a hard time closing the door for the last time. Similar to my leg not letting me jump 40 feet off a rock ledge into a pool of water while canyoning, my body didn't want me to close the door. It was like I was closing another chapter of my life, it was the end. Maybe it was because my maid had locked me in my room my last morning in Cambridge and I had to climb out my window and use my key to unlock the door, but overall it was just simply hard to leave. I could not have asked for a better group to fall into for the six weeks I was in Cambridge. So many different personalities, but all with a common interest: making the most of this summer and having fun doing it. So, this is to you: Horne, Kyle, Josh, Ben, Alan, MJ and JJ, you are some of the craziest, most fun, most ridiculous, and honestly best people I have had the chance to hang out with. From warm Strongbow and Carlsburg, our Cambridge friend taking us to the most shady liquor store ever, the Snug, the Reagle, Duncan's Class, the Paddock, The Place (I'll be 80 talking about that place), weekend travels (queuing at Wimbledon, MJ's dank you, canyoning, hostels with mannequins, Espionage, etc), the Anne Frank Suite, and lastly, late nights simply sitting in Josh's room on Lensfield hacking off the Asian RA. and where the conversations led us, thank you. Y'all are friends for a lifetime and hope y'all feel the same way. Now, until we are older, famous, and have lots of money and can reunite in England again, a reunion in the states is a must. Until then, stay out of jail, make good, err satisfactory grades, enjoy not having to take the Underground, air conditioning, TV, and the common use of deodorant by Americans, and lastly, keep in touch. For those who've kept up on this blog, thanks for reading...If I get really bored, go broke, or win the lottery, I may turn this all into a book. I honestly wouldn't have to make much of it up. The facts are funny enough and dramatic enough on their own. Last fall I was going to apply for The Real World, but had a quarter life crisis when I realized I was too old. Good thing, becuase I'm pretty sure I got something better out of this deal... This whole experience has made me a better person and it's no doubt because of the people I met along the way. Talk to you yahoos soon. Oh, and anyone is looking for a mediocre to average volleyball team to play, I think I know where to round up some players...
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
Monday, August 9, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Scotland Weekend
Well, our last journey from Cambridge couldn't have been a better one: a trip to Scotland and The British Open at St. Andrews. The trip started off fine with a jump on a train from Cambridge to Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland. We had to make a stop in Peterborough, and then things turned for the worse. One thing I can say is customer service is generally good in the U.S. and the employees at places such as restaurants, bars, etc., try to do their best to accomodate you. Maybe it's because we are capitalist and in touch with 2010. This rant will make a little more sense after you hear this: We were all catching our connecting train in the hell hole of Peterborough for the longest leg of our trip to Scotland. As half of our group is getting on the train, Horne, Jenna, Ben, and myself are still waiting outside the train to get on when the door closes. No big deal right? The doors are automatic, there's a button we can push and just hop on. Nope. The doors were closed for good. As I looked down the platform, I see the little witch of a whistleblower standing down there huffing on her wistle saying the train was gone. Of course, this did not sit well. This wasn't just some cab that I missed. Some little subway that I can catch the next one. I was in Deliverance, England and the mayor had just shut me out of the train. I was hot to say the least. Being the polite person I am, I rolled my bag down to her to see what the misunderstanding was and to hear her appology, because surely that wasn't done on purpose. I was wrong, and she heard how I felt about it. If there was ever a time for a comment card, this was it. I would have needed a comment book. She had the gaul to tell me the train had been there 90 seconds and it was funny that our group was the only one that didn't get on the train. 90 SECONDS?!?!?! Would you like to make a list of things that you can do in 90 seconds? Brush my teeth? Tie my shoes? In her case, blow on a whistle? I proceeded to ask her that if some elderly woman was in front of me in a wheel chair and she was having trouble getting on, the door would shut in my face? Or if part of my leg was still out of the train, it would just have to be left in Peterborough? She didn't care for that, but I didn't care for her, so we were even. There's another reason socialism isn't the way to go. They have no reason to be nice, no incentive. Tips don't exist. Not that she had a nice bone in her whistleblowing body, but maybe, just maybe she would have left the door open another 4 seconds if she didn't get everything for free. Ok I'm done. I hope she has a lovely life. There.
So, Ben, Horne, Jenna, and I all got on another train. The problem: it was full of reserved seats, so we were relegated to sitting on our bags and standing in the cart where the bar was....for three hours. The irony was the only thing that would keep us sane at this point was the bar. Guess everything works out in the end. We finally got to Scotland, which is absolutely gorgeous. We again checked into another glorious hostel, this time a room big enough for 18. There were only eight of us, so of course, we were going to have friends. Did I mention these friends were creepy, smelly, 40ish year old men? Note: if I'm in my 40's, and having to stay in these hostels while traveling, have me committed. Period. Why are they doing this? If it's that bad, get a better job. And if you have friends doing it with you, get new friends. You're middle age. You should not be traveling if you are staying in these brothel-type establishments. Do something for yourself besides creep on the two girls in their twenties that are with us. Gross. Nightfall comes and the girls had been to Scotland before, so they knew of THE place to go in Edinburgh: Espionage. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it for a bar? The definition of espionage: The act or practice of spying or of using spies to obtain secret information. Perfect for a bar filled with creepy dudes trying to find out secret information about girls. There is no sence of subtleties when it comes to UK guys hitting on girls: they go right for the kill and it's down right comical. "Hey baby, why don't you look past my funky teeth, funky smell, and funky dress and hang out with me?" Good one. Fail. However, it was a very cool bar, several floors of differnt places to go, and of course little air conditioning.
Friday finally arrived and it was time for The Open. Words cannot describe the feeling that came over me when we pulled up on the grounds. I felt eight years old. You could smell the history in the growing grass and the steady breeze. St. Andrews is the home of golf. Jonesboro is where I call home, golf calls St. Andrews home. The Old Course is the definition of "holding your own." It's been doing it for 600 years. Yes, there have been some changes, including the addition of 40 yards to the famous Road Hole, 17. However, the landscape has remained almost exactly the same. A flat lie does not exist, and the pot bunkers would be the best maro-polo players to live. You can't see them until it's too late. If any of you watched The Open, you know the Friday round will go down as one of the windiest of all time. The tournament was delayed for wind. That's intense. Wind goes hand and hand with the British Open. It's like mustard and ketchup, hot dogs and buns, The Houston Astros and terrible. When you think of one, you think of the other. We literally walked every single hole of St. Andrews. Amazing. We decided to post up on number 8, which is on the very back of the golf course. The wind was blowing a constant 35 to 40 mph. Number 8 is about 175 yards, straight away with a pot bunker short left and gunch behind the green. You could have layed a serving tray on the pin it was bent over so bad because of the wind. I've never been more entertained watching the likes of Ernie Els, Padrig Harrington, Tiger Woods, and especially Ian Poulter (the biggest cry baby in golf, who runs his mouth and has won as many majors as me. Win something, then talk, Ian. Until then, worry about your hair, high water pants, and not winning in the USA.) miss the green by 50 yards. I'm not joking. 50 yards. That's half a football field. That's how bad the wind was. Made me feel good about myself really. I know that's selfish, but you enjoy it, too. The coolest part of the day was during the wind delay, several players, including Todd Hamilton, were just hanging out, no ropes around, talking to fans, friends, and signing autographs. That's what makes golf such a great sport. The fans and players feel comfortable around each other. You don't have to worry about a fan throwing ice on a player, the player hurdling over the seats and throwing a haymaker to your face. The players and fans were just talking, like they used to get in trouble together in high school. Towards the end of the day, we made our way towards one of the most scenic and sacrid areas golf has to offer, the sanctuary of numbers 1 and 18. Amazing. You could literally close your eyes and see all the players from the past walking over the famous bridge, waiving, thanking the fans. Overall, I will remember St. Andrews more than anything. I could have gone every day. The rest of the weekend was filled with actual tourist things including the wonderful idea of climbing Arthur's Seat, this huge "hill" that over looks all of Edinburgh. I managed to have some sort of allergic reaction to something during this trip, which caused the back of my mouth to swell and force me to not be able to eat and drink, so climbing this hill was just about the end of me. Of coures, I refused to die on the side of some hill in Scotland, in the rain and 30 mph wind. We got some awesome pictures at the top, and it was gorgeous. We then decided to listen to our cabbie and Kyle and take another route down...bad idea. We ended up having to go all the way back around, walk 2 miles down a road and finally down the hill to a place where a cab was. Some of us then went to Edinburgh Castle, which was cool as well. This was a prison during 1776 for US troops in our war against England. Let's just say the accomodations for our soldiers were not 5 star. The weekend included with another trip to find secret information at Espionage and a train ride home. I think the whistleblower knew which train I was on, because we did not have air conditioning for the first 4 hours of our journey. That's fun. I felt like I was in a hot box. However, we made it home safe and it was another awesome weekend. Scotland is absolutely a hidden gem that I'm sure gets overlooked. I will be back. Well that's it for now...my next post will be pretty emotional as I've come to the end of my time in Cambridge. It's unreal to think about all the memories and life long friendships I've made. Ok, that's enough of that for now. Hope you all are doing well. This is a special week for me, because my Mom and Dad arrive in London in the morning and my brother and sis in law, Lindsey arrive on Saturday. We will be spending time in London, Paris, and Rome the next week and a half before I finally make it back to the wonderful USA. Miss everyone back home and will be talking to you soon. Take care.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
So, Ben, Horne, Jenna, and I all got on another train. The problem: it was full of reserved seats, so we were relegated to sitting on our bags and standing in the cart where the bar was....for three hours. The irony was the only thing that would keep us sane at this point was the bar. Guess everything works out in the end. We finally got to Scotland, which is absolutely gorgeous. We again checked into another glorious hostel, this time a room big enough for 18. There were only eight of us, so of course, we were going to have friends. Did I mention these friends were creepy, smelly, 40ish year old men? Note: if I'm in my 40's, and having to stay in these hostels while traveling, have me committed. Period. Why are they doing this? If it's that bad, get a better job. And if you have friends doing it with you, get new friends. You're middle age. You should not be traveling if you are staying in these brothel-type establishments. Do something for yourself besides creep on the two girls in their twenties that are with us. Gross. Nightfall comes and the girls had been to Scotland before, so they knew of THE place to go in Edinburgh: Espionage. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it for a bar? The definition of espionage: The act or practice of spying or of using spies to obtain secret information. Perfect for a bar filled with creepy dudes trying to find out secret information about girls. There is no sence of subtleties when it comes to UK guys hitting on girls: they go right for the kill and it's down right comical. "Hey baby, why don't you look past my funky teeth, funky smell, and funky dress and hang out with me?" Good one. Fail. However, it was a very cool bar, several floors of differnt places to go, and of course little air conditioning.
Friday finally arrived and it was time for The Open. Words cannot describe the feeling that came over me when we pulled up on the grounds. I felt eight years old. You could smell the history in the growing grass and the steady breeze. St. Andrews is the home of golf. Jonesboro is where I call home, golf calls St. Andrews home. The Old Course is the definition of "holding your own." It's been doing it for 600 years. Yes, there have been some changes, including the addition of 40 yards to the famous Road Hole, 17. However, the landscape has remained almost exactly the same. A flat lie does not exist, and the pot bunkers would be the best maro-polo players to live. You can't see them until it's too late. If any of you watched The Open, you know the Friday round will go down as one of the windiest of all time. The tournament was delayed for wind. That's intense. Wind goes hand and hand with the British Open. It's like mustard and ketchup, hot dogs and buns, The Houston Astros and terrible. When you think of one, you think of the other. We literally walked every single hole of St. Andrews. Amazing. We decided to post up on number 8, which is on the very back of the golf course. The wind was blowing a constant 35 to 40 mph. Number 8 is about 175 yards, straight away with a pot bunker short left and gunch behind the green. You could have layed a serving tray on the pin it was bent over so bad because of the wind. I've never been more entertained watching the likes of Ernie Els, Padrig Harrington, Tiger Woods, and especially Ian Poulter (the biggest cry baby in golf, who runs his mouth and has won as many majors as me. Win something, then talk, Ian. Until then, worry about your hair, high water pants, and not winning in the USA.) miss the green by 50 yards. I'm not joking. 50 yards. That's half a football field. That's how bad the wind was. Made me feel good about myself really. I know that's selfish, but you enjoy it, too. The coolest part of the day was during the wind delay, several players, including Todd Hamilton, were just hanging out, no ropes around, talking to fans, friends, and signing autographs. That's what makes golf such a great sport. The fans and players feel comfortable around each other. You don't have to worry about a fan throwing ice on a player, the player hurdling over the seats and throwing a haymaker to your face. The players and fans were just talking, like they used to get in trouble together in high school. Towards the end of the day, we made our way towards one of the most scenic and sacrid areas golf has to offer, the sanctuary of numbers 1 and 18. Amazing. You could literally close your eyes and see all the players from the past walking over the famous bridge, waiving, thanking the fans. Overall, I will remember St. Andrews more than anything. I could have gone every day. The rest of the weekend was filled with actual tourist things including the wonderful idea of climbing Arthur's Seat, this huge "hill" that over looks all of Edinburgh. I managed to have some sort of allergic reaction to something during this trip, which caused the back of my mouth to swell and force me to not be able to eat and drink, so climbing this hill was just about the end of me. Of coures, I refused to die on the side of some hill in Scotland, in the rain and 30 mph wind. We got some awesome pictures at the top, and it was gorgeous. We then decided to listen to our cabbie and Kyle and take another route down...bad idea. We ended up having to go all the way back around, walk 2 miles down a road and finally down the hill to a place where a cab was. Some of us then went to Edinburgh Castle, which was cool as well. This was a prison during 1776 for US troops in our war against England. Let's just say the accomodations for our soldiers were not 5 star. The weekend included with another trip to find secret information at Espionage and a train ride home. I think the whistleblower knew which train I was on, because we did not have air conditioning for the first 4 hours of our journey. That's fun. I felt like I was in a hot box. However, we made it home safe and it was another awesome weekend. Scotland is absolutely a hidden gem that I'm sure gets overlooked. I will be back. Well that's it for now...my next post will be pretty emotional as I've come to the end of my time in Cambridge. It's unreal to think about all the memories and life long friendships I've made. Ok, that's enough of that for now. Hope you all are doing well. This is a special week for me, because my Mom and Dad arrive in London in the morning and my brother and sis in law, Lindsey arrive on Saturday. We will be spending time in London, Paris, and Rome the next week and a half before I finally make it back to the wonderful USA. Miss everyone back home and will be talking to you soon. Take care.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
Monday, July 19, 2010
Switzerland Weekend
I know I'm way behind, but between traveling, class, and everything else Cambridge has to offer, I haven't had time to just sit down and post. Ok, first let me just say, Switzerland is absolutely beautiful, with the side note that I never have to visit Geneva for the rest of my life and will be perfectly fine. We of course flew the lovely airline of Easy Jet into Geneva. I knew it was going to be interesting when the first language that the safety instructions were given in was French and not English. We were on a tight schedule when we got to the airport, because we were catching the last train out of Geneva to Interlaken, which was about a 3 hour train ride. I honestly felt helpless in the airport. Not only did English not exist, but no one there spoke it either. The only words that I really heard in English were from a nice lady at the ticket booth who asked if my shirt was "Ralph Lauren." That's right, not Polo, but Ralph Lauren. I felt like I was back in time, but maybe that was the funky smell and lack of A/C in the train station. If they could bottle up some of the smells that I have encountered in Europe I would happily send them home and play horrible jokes on people. Ok, well after spending 30 mins buying what we hoped were the right train tickets we began our journey to Interlaken from Geneva. The train was nice, two stories and had A/C. Laugh all you want, A/C just doesn't grow on trees around here...We finally made it to Interlaken at around 1 am. After being greeted by the Hostel Dog, a 200 pound St. Bernard, we settled into our room and headed to the hostel bar.
You've all seen those western movies where someone walks into the saloon and all the people stop what they're doing and turn and look at you like you have "bite me" written on your head. Well, that's kinda what it felt like when we first walked into the hostel bar. Let's just say polo shirts and bathing weren't the norm. After realizing we were going to be able to enjoying drinks there, we hung out for a little bit and decided to call it a night...we had a big day of eating at Hooters and white water rafting coming up.
We had some time to kill the next day and made our way towards Hooters for lunch. They are proud of their chicken wings in Switzerland, to say the least. They could have been the most organic, free range, no cage, brushed daily, petted constantly, chickens in the world and still wouldn't have been worth the 17 Franks (about 1/1 with the dollar) that they cost. Yes, 17 dollars for roughly 10 chicken wings. Welcome to Switzerland, home of chocolate, the Alps and price gouging chicken wings. After enjoying those delicious wings a few local brews, we walked around the town for a bit. You know, touristy things. We actually are pretty good at it. In fact we even found the historic, local casino. However, we got to the door and realized you had to pay to get in unless we had this card from our Hostel so we decided against it. I know paying someone to take your money sounds like a great idea and all, but no thanks. I can go to the Indian casinos back home and pay them to take my money. So after this touristy, blah blah suff it was time to white water raft.
First, have any of you worn a wet suit before? I've never been wrapped as tight as possible with a roll of plastic wrap, but the feeling has to be pretty similar. Modesty and pride are thrown out the window once those bad boys are zipped up. However, we were rafting with several guys of asian background, so we all felt a little better about ourselves. ha Unfortunately for us, we looked like the most athletic group that was rafting that afternoon (yes, I'm serious, and yes that is terrible), so they made us split up to help the other boats out. Remeber the our Asian friends? They come into play here and a little later. Alan and Horne were veteran rafters, so they were the lucky ones that got to join our Asian friends in a boat. Ben, Kyle, Josh, and myself were joined by a Middle Eastern couple who I got the hunch had never white water rafted before. Why you ask? Well, when the guide said row foward and the girl started rowing backward, that was a pretty good indication. We finally got in the water and, wow. It was awesome. I was glad to have the wet suit, though, because that water was freeeezing. Our boat had an awesome time, but the good stories come from Alan, Horne, and our Asian friends. I'm guessing our Asian friends weren't a fan of rushing water, because one of them, well, wet his wet suit if you catch my drift. So, now that I think about it, I guess he was a fan of rushing water. ha Did I mention this was while Alan and Horne were helping pull him out of the boat? So yes, he shared the love on their wet suit as well...hahahahaha At one point during the rafting, our guide let us jump out of the raft and practice our rescuing techniques. Well, I wasn't even out of the raft when Kyle and I decided to go out the same way and he roundhouse kicked me right in the jaw on my way out of the raft. ha No worries, though...my face was numb from the 40 degree water.
After a successful day of rafting it was time to head back to the Hostel, grab some food and get a good night's rest...we were canyoning tomorrow...on the canyon that required "cliff jumping skills." Cliff jumping skills??? Oh, and as usual, we skipped the good night's rest part. The hostel bar was much more welcoming this night. Even met some people from Georgia. Several hours later, bed time.
The seven a.m. alarm going off for Canyoning was not a welcome sound. It meant I couldn't sleep more and that I was about to go jump off rocks, slide down cliffs and rope my happy self through waterfalls. Just a normal Saturday for me. We again got to put on the fashionable and slim fitting wet suits, except this time we also enjoyed wearing harnesses with yellow butt pads. Oh, and we each had individualized helmets with names written in big, bold letters on the front. I guess this was so when I slipped off a rock, busted my butt and looked up they could see and yell my name, which was Rocky, by the way. After about an hour van ride to the canyon, I figured we would just hop out of the van and there it was. Nope. We had to walk through this trail a Mountain Goat would have issues with. There was no plan B. You either made it through the trail, or fell off the mountain. Pretty simple. We finally made it to the canyon. I have all the pictures on facebook, if you can see those, but let me say, the pictures don't do it justice. It was seriously one of the most awesome things I've ever done. After a nice easy slide to start things off. A big jump was next. When I say big, I mean big. Kyle was the first to go and one look at his face made me realize slipping off the mountain might not have been such a bad idea back on the trail. When it got to be my turn, I was contemplating my sanity. There are no platforms that you jump off. It's a slipperly, jagged rock for your left foot and your guide's mildewed, wet shoe for second foot to stand on. After my instructions to jump the right because the left was a rock and will hurt you, I was ready. Wow. After I realized I was in one piece, only wet from the natural water, I was all smiles. Once that first jump was over, I wanted more. The jump slide was probably one of the crazier things. Having to jump from a rock to the smooth side of a cliff, turn your body and slide was pretty intense. Josh, well he missed the cliff by oh, 6 feet, so he just had a nice free fall into the water...haha Ok, so I just realized how long this post was getting, so I'm hurrying I promise. This went on for 4 hours. I would go again tomorrow. We then had one night left to enjoy.
We find out that three other people have joined our hostel room. Including an Asian girl that probably hates every one of us. The poor girl slept with her iPod on and didn't speak a word. There were also these girls from Iowa that were there. They were friendly and didn't mind our shananigans so it was all good there. ha. A few of us decided to train back early to Geneva the next day to get on an early flight. We did and of course, Easy Jet makes things interesting. The flight was perfect until the landing when our pilot felt it was a good idea to corckscrew for 30 minuts above Gatwick airport. I don't get it. Did I mention he managed to find the biggest set of clouds to corkscrew through to add turbulance to the menu? I firmly believe they do this for jokes. Well the others that didn't get on the early flight weren't so lucky. Their flight was delayed enough that they couldn't get on the last train from King's Cross to Cambridge, so they made a lovely arrival back home at around 5:30 am the next morning. Just another typical weekend for our group. Ok, this has been long enough, and my Scotland post will be coming soon. Scotland and the British Open were amazing. In fact, Scotland may be one of my new favorite places. I have to go back. We have just one week left in Cambridge. Unreal. This trip has been amazing to say the least. Wimbledon, Amsterdam, Switzerland, British Open. That's a pretty good month I would say. Ok, hope everyone is doing well. Talk to you all soon.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
You've all seen those western movies where someone walks into the saloon and all the people stop what they're doing and turn and look at you like you have "bite me" written on your head. Well, that's kinda what it felt like when we first walked into the hostel bar. Let's just say polo shirts and bathing weren't the norm. After realizing we were going to be able to enjoying drinks there, we hung out for a little bit and decided to call it a night...we had a big day of eating at Hooters and white water rafting coming up.
We had some time to kill the next day and made our way towards Hooters for lunch. They are proud of their chicken wings in Switzerland, to say the least. They could have been the most organic, free range, no cage, brushed daily, petted constantly, chickens in the world and still wouldn't have been worth the 17 Franks (about 1/1 with the dollar) that they cost. Yes, 17 dollars for roughly 10 chicken wings. Welcome to Switzerland, home of chocolate, the Alps and price gouging chicken wings. After enjoying those delicious wings a few local brews, we walked around the town for a bit. You know, touristy things. We actually are pretty good at it. In fact we even found the historic, local casino. However, we got to the door and realized you had to pay to get in unless we had this card from our Hostel so we decided against it. I know paying someone to take your money sounds like a great idea and all, but no thanks. I can go to the Indian casinos back home and pay them to take my money. So after this touristy, blah blah suff it was time to white water raft.
First, have any of you worn a wet suit before? I've never been wrapped as tight as possible with a roll of plastic wrap, but the feeling has to be pretty similar. Modesty and pride are thrown out the window once those bad boys are zipped up. However, we were rafting with several guys of asian background, so we all felt a little better about ourselves. ha Unfortunately for us, we looked like the most athletic group that was rafting that afternoon (yes, I'm serious, and yes that is terrible), so they made us split up to help the other boats out. Remeber the our Asian friends? They come into play here and a little later. Alan and Horne were veteran rafters, so they were the lucky ones that got to join our Asian friends in a boat. Ben, Kyle, Josh, and myself were joined by a Middle Eastern couple who I got the hunch had never white water rafted before. Why you ask? Well, when the guide said row foward and the girl started rowing backward, that was a pretty good indication. We finally got in the water and, wow. It was awesome. I was glad to have the wet suit, though, because that water was freeeezing. Our boat had an awesome time, but the good stories come from Alan, Horne, and our Asian friends. I'm guessing our Asian friends weren't a fan of rushing water, because one of them, well, wet his wet suit if you catch my drift. So, now that I think about it, I guess he was a fan of rushing water. ha Did I mention this was while Alan and Horne were helping pull him out of the boat? So yes, he shared the love on their wet suit as well...hahahahaha At one point during the rafting, our guide let us jump out of the raft and practice our rescuing techniques. Well, I wasn't even out of the raft when Kyle and I decided to go out the same way and he roundhouse kicked me right in the jaw on my way out of the raft. ha No worries, though...my face was numb from the 40 degree water.
After a successful day of rafting it was time to head back to the Hostel, grab some food and get a good night's rest...we were canyoning tomorrow...on the canyon that required "cliff jumping skills." Cliff jumping skills??? Oh, and as usual, we skipped the good night's rest part. The hostel bar was much more welcoming this night. Even met some people from Georgia. Several hours later, bed time.
The seven a.m. alarm going off for Canyoning was not a welcome sound. It meant I couldn't sleep more and that I was about to go jump off rocks, slide down cliffs and rope my happy self through waterfalls. Just a normal Saturday for me. We again got to put on the fashionable and slim fitting wet suits, except this time we also enjoyed wearing harnesses with yellow butt pads. Oh, and we each had individualized helmets with names written in big, bold letters on the front. I guess this was so when I slipped off a rock, busted my butt and looked up they could see and yell my name, which was Rocky, by the way. After about an hour van ride to the canyon, I figured we would just hop out of the van and there it was. Nope. We had to walk through this trail a Mountain Goat would have issues with. There was no plan B. You either made it through the trail, or fell off the mountain. Pretty simple. We finally made it to the canyon. I have all the pictures on facebook, if you can see those, but let me say, the pictures don't do it justice. It was seriously one of the most awesome things I've ever done. After a nice easy slide to start things off. A big jump was next. When I say big, I mean big. Kyle was the first to go and one look at his face made me realize slipping off the mountain might not have been such a bad idea back on the trail. When it got to be my turn, I was contemplating my sanity. There are no platforms that you jump off. It's a slipperly, jagged rock for your left foot and your guide's mildewed, wet shoe for second foot to stand on. After my instructions to jump the right because the left was a rock and will hurt you, I was ready. Wow. After I realized I was in one piece, only wet from the natural water, I was all smiles. Once that first jump was over, I wanted more. The jump slide was probably one of the crazier things. Having to jump from a rock to the smooth side of a cliff, turn your body and slide was pretty intense. Josh, well he missed the cliff by oh, 6 feet, so he just had a nice free fall into the water...haha Ok, so I just realized how long this post was getting, so I'm hurrying I promise. This went on for 4 hours. I would go again tomorrow. We then had one night left to enjoy.
We find out that three other people have joined our hostel room. Including an Asian girl that probably hates every one of us. The poor girl slept with her iPod on and didn't speak a word. There were also these girls from Iowa that were there. They were friendly and didn't mind our shananigans so it was all good there. ha. A few of us decided to train back early to Geneva the next day to get on an early flight. We did and of course, Easy Jet makes things interesting. The flight was perfect until the landing when our pilot felt it was a good idea to corckscrew for 30 minuts above Gatwick airport. I don't get it. Did I mention he managed to find the biggest set of clouds to corkscrew through to add turbulance to the menu? I firmly believe they do this for jokes. Well the others that didn't get on the early flight weren't so lucky. Their flight was delayed enough that they couldn't get on the last train from King's Cross to Cambridge, so they made a lovely arrival back home at around 5:30 am the next morning. Just another typical weekend for our group. Ok, this has been long enough, and my Scotland post will be coming soon. Scotland and the British Open were amazing. In fact, Scotland may be one of my new favorite places. I have to go back. We have just one week left in Cambridge. Unreal. This trip has been amazing to say the least. Wimbledon, Amsterdam, Switzerland, British Open. That's a pretty good month I would say. Ok, hope everyone is doing well. Talk to you all soon.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Amsterdam Weekend
I've honestly tried to start this post four times and have yet to find a good place to begin. In one word, wow. Amsterdam is well, bananas...After touring Legal London on Friday, our group used the bus that took us to London as a makeshift dressing room to throw on our clothes and head to the airport to catch our first flight with the lovely Easy Jet Airline. I'm pretty certain the pilot was either a beginner, had one eye, or simply fell asleep half way to Amsterdam. After the normal speech about flight time and weather, which he said was absolutely beautiful in Amsterdam, we managed to start drifting into clouds. About 3 minutes later, I honestly was looking for the saddle and my cowboy hat, because we flew directly into a thunderstorm. I've never seen a flight attendant stop serving drinks, grab the coffee pot and sprint to his seat in the back of the plane so he wasn't doing cartwheels into the ceiling. After it was over, the pilot came over the intercom and said "sorry folks, the weather suprised me!" Suprised you? Seriously? Whoops, didn't see that 40,000 foot tall thundstorm cloud directly in front of the plane. Guess those things can sneak up on you...
As for Amsterdam itself...Let me disclaim by saying this post will not do our trip justice. Experiencing that place yourself is the only true way to get a feel for Amsterdam. Let me start with our glorious accomodations. When we booked this trip, we found this Hostel online and noticed there were flat screen TV's in the rooms. We booked it. Did we worry about the beds? No. Did we worry about the reviews? Nah. Did we worry if they even cleaned the rooms, had a bathroom, or even had locks on the doors? Of course not. When we checked in and got to our room, the first thing we see is a 50 year old, what seemed to be Romanian man in our room. Of course my friends are nice enough to let me have the bed beside him. Ok, let me put it this way. Have you seen Borat? Remeber Borat's friend that runs around naked and wears whitey tighties? He was my neighbor the first night in Amsterdam. And he was in costume...whitey tighties. He smelled like Forrest Gump's Feet after running across America. Did I mention that it was a constant, frigid, 85 degrees in our room at all times? So after settling in to our rooms for the evening, we decided to hit the town. One of our good friends from Arkansas, Katy, was in Amsterdam as well and joined us. After claiming she found the "hot spot" to go to, we followed her for what I would say was 3 to 4 miles trying to find the clubs. Ironically enough, the name was "Club Smokey." This was hands down one of the most intense clubs I've ever been to, ever. Just start doing the techno beat in your head and imagine the walls shaking and your h\ears just thumping to that all night. Throw in a crazy light show and 3,000 people you don't know from foreign countries who still think CK One is a popular cologne/perfume and you have that bar.
After a good night's rest, a lost pair of dress socks and some lunch, we began our first day in Amsterdam. Being the cultural people that we are, we all took a canal tour of the city. We had our own boat and guide which was awesome. I think his name was Beeno, or at least that's what I called him. This was a pretty cool way to see the city, take some pictures and get us out of the Hostel and away from my Romanian friend. After the boat tour, we wanted to see more of what the city had to offer. The boat guys told us there were places where people try to get their start in acting, I guess a Broadway in a very low budget sort of way, so we went to check it out...
We then proceeded to Amsterdam's entertainment district. There are areas that have cheap, kinda local actor, plays. Anyway, we went and it included two free drinks, which was our justification. I don't think we'll be seeing these people on Saturday Night Live any time soon. They liked to get the crowd involved, which was the highlight of the play. The only problem is that it was so dark in the room and the stage lighting was so poor, they had to light candles to help you see. Weird I know. Beer and candles doesn't seem like a safe combo, but whatever. We were going to try to get some autographs incase they became famous, but we never could find a pen or sharpie. Mary Jordan was able to talk to one of the actors outside the play and gave him a big "dankyou" for all of us.
After getting the cultural stuff out of the way, we got the bright idea to enjoy a pub crawl. After waiting in line for 3 minutes at first bar, we changed our minds, and went on our own. Good call. We found some little local bar that was playing the World Cup, had drinks and enjoyed none other than "house music" which consists of nothing but techno. They could turn KC and JoJo into a techno remix. After the local pub, we found what had to be the biggest techno club in Amsterdam. It was huge. Dance offs seemed to be a good theme for the night, and again, the air conditioning was lacking. This is when we finally strolled through the famous Red Light District. You all know it's there, so why hide it. It's border line hillarious. All you see are random windows lit up red with girls standing in what look like 1970's Halloween costumes trying to waive you over. After walking around for a bit, and some late night food, we then called it a night. The 4th of July was coming up.
Independence Day in another country? How can you celebrate? What could be more American than eating at Hard Rock Cafe, enjoying Budweiser and singing The National Anthem while standing with hand over heart in the middle of the restaurant. God Bless the U.S.A. for all of the above. After an all-american lunch, we split off to see different stuff. A few of our group wanted to check out the awesome parks and outdoor stuff Amsterdam has to offer while others of us, including myself, went to see the Van Gough Museum. It was amazing. Let me just say I have the upmost respect for the guy, but he had some serious issues. He only painted for roughly 8 years before shooting himself in the chest. You can tell he was becoming worse as the years went on by his artwork...Either he had mental issues or simply indluged in too many of Amsterdam's legal illegals...The famous IAmsterdam sign was near there, so of course the cliche, Griswoldish pictures on the sign were taken before making a trip to the Heineken Brewery. I loved it, except there is no rice in their beer. How un-American is that? Yes, I know it's not an American company, so don't give me that. We of course bought lots of worthless nicknacks from the Brewery, including Horne's fashionable Heineken rolling travel bag that we used to put all of our junk in. This led to our last night in Amsterdam...
To start off the last night, we fell for the worst tourist trap I've ever been a part of. I'm blaming the girls for this one. We went to what was called the "Ice Bar." If you're ever in Amsterdam, stay away. I would rather pay 15 euros to let Brock Lesnar crow hop me in the stomach than sit in an oversized freezer, watch some 5 minute long, random 3D video with talking penguins run around asking people for some key to get into an igloo bar. I still don't know what the video's purpose was besides making me mad, cold, and confused. Oh well. We fell for it and you live and you learn. We then proceeded to the same area of clubs/bars that we went to the night before. I mean what better way to continue the night than with a techno pub. I mean seriously. The music is everywhere. Elevators play techno elevator music. Cabs play techno cabbie music. I don't understand. I have this constant beat in my head now. We then proceeded to our last club in Amsterdam. They were having a special...none other than techno. I'm sold that a Taco Bell playing nothing but techno music would be a billion dollar investment in Europe. I've yet to see a Taco Bell and everyone loves techno music. "I'd like a double decker taco, cinnamon twists, and some techno." Boom. Billion dollars in your pocket. I know I would have enjoyed it. You would too. After a small run-in with some locals in which I found myself talking culture with this guy while the group proceeded 200 yards ahead...thanks for that btw, we got in cabs and headed back to the Hostel. After another Hostel slumber party, being registered, and a good night's sleep later, it was time to head back to the UK. As we waited hours in line to check in, unknown to myself, I cut in front of what was a gigantic foreign guy and got my ticket. Again, no one informed me he was angry and he could have literally thrown me across the English Channel. We finally made it back and are safe and sound in Cambridge. Two days from now the 6 of us guys are heading to Switzerland for a relaxing weekend of white water rafting and canyoning in Interlaken, Switzerland. The girls have decided it was best to avoid this trip (babies) and find their own travel plans. I'm really not sure what we are getting ourselves into with this white water rafting and canyoning business, but we have a photographer following us the whole way, so our screaming and crying will be documented for all to see. This will make for some of the best pictures of the trip. Oh, and Interlaken has a Hooters. How American is that. Ok, that's enough from me for now. I cannot believe I'm half way done with this program this weekend. It's going by way too fast. Lot's of memories still to make, and they start this weekend in Switzerland. I'm going to post pics from the weekend soon along with others from other cameras. Hope things are great back in the US and will be talking to you soon. Amsterdam 1 Americans 0
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
As for Amsterdam itself...Let me disclaim by saying this post will not do our trip justice. Experiencing that place yourself is the only true way to get a feel for Amsterdam. Let me start with our glorious accomodations. When we booked this trip, we found this Hostel online and noticed there were flat screen TV's in the rooms. We booked it. Did we worry about the beds? No. Did we worry about the reviews? Nah. Did we worry if they even cleaned the rooms, had a bathroom, or even had locks on the doors? Of course not. When we checked in and got to our room, the first thing we see is a 50 year old, what seemed to be Romanian man in our room. Of course my friends are nice enough to let me have the bed beside him. Ok, let me put it this way. Have you seen Borat? Remeber Borat's friend that runs around naked and wears whitey tighties? He was my neighbor the first night in Amsterdam. And he was in costume...whitey tighties. He smelled like Forrest Gump's Feet after running across America. Did I mention that it was a constant, frigid, 85 degrees in our room at all times? So after settling in to our rooms for the evening, we decided to hit the town. One of our good friends from Arkansas, Katy, was in Amsterdam as well and joined us. After claiming she found the "hot spot" to go to, we followed her for what I would say was 3 to 4 miles trying to find the clubs. Ironically enough, the name was "Club Smokey." This was hands down one of the most intense clubs I've ever been to, ever. Just start doing the techno beat in your head and imagine the walls shaking and your h\ears just thumping to that all night. Throw in a crazy light show and 3,000 people you don't know from foreign countries who still think CK One is a popular cologne/perfume and you have that bar.
After a good night's rest, a lost pair of dress socks and some lunch, we began our first day in Amsterdam. Being the cultural people that we are, we all took a canal tour of the city. We had our own boat and guide which was awesome. I think his name was Beeno, or at least that's what I called him. This was a pretty cool way to see the city, take some pictures and get us out of the Hostel and away from my Romanian friend. After the boat tour, we wanted to see more of what the city had to offer. The boat guys told us there were places where people try to get their start in acting, I guess a Broadway in a very low budget sort of way, so we went to check it out...
We then proceeded to Amsterdam's entertainment district. There are areas that have cheap, kinda local actor, plays. Anyway, we went and it included two free drinks, which was our justification. I don't think we'll be seeing these people on Saturday Night Live any time soon. They liked to get the crowd involved, which was the highlight of the play. The only problem is that it was so dark in the room and the stage lighting was so poor, they had to light candles to help you see. Weird I know. Beer and candles doesn't seem like a safe combo, but whatever. We were going to try to get some autographs incase they became famous, but we never could find a pen or sharpie. Mary Jordan was able to talk to one of the actors outside the play and gave him a big "dankyou" for all of us.
After getting the cultural stuff out of the way, we got the bright idea to enjoy a pub crawl. After waiting in line for 3 minutes at first bar, we changed our minds, and went on our own. Good call. We found some little local bar that was playing the World Cup, had drinks and enjoyed none other than "house music" which consists of nothing but techno. They could turn KC and JoJo into a techno remix. After the local pub, we found what had to be the biggest techno club in Amsterdam. It was huge. Dance offs seemed to be a good theme for the night, and again, the air conditioning was lacking. This is when we finally strolled through the famous Red Light District. You all know it's there, so why hide it. It's border line hillarious. All you see are random windows lit up red with girls standing in what look like 1970's Halloween costumes trying to waive you over. After walking around for a bit, and some late night food, we then called it a night. The 4th of July was coming up.
Independence Day in another country? How can you celebrate? What could be more American than eating at Hard Rock Cafe, enjoying Budweiser and singing The National Anthem while standing with hand over heart in the middle of the restaurant. God Bless the U.S.A. for all of the above. After an all-american lunch, we split off to see different stuff. A few of our group wanted to check out the awesome parks and outdoor stuff Amsterdam has to offer while others of us, including myself, went to see the Van Gough Museum. It was amazing. Let me just say I have the upmost respect for the guy, but he had some serious issues. He only painted for roughly 8 years before shooting himself in the chest. You can tell he was becoming worse as the years went on by his artwork...Either he had mental issues or simply indluged in too many of Amsterdam's legal illegals...The famous IAmsterdam sign was near there, so of course the cliche, Griswoldish pictures on the sign were taken before making a trip to the Heineken Brewery. I loved it, except there is no rice in their beer. How un-American is that? Yes, I know it's not an American company, so don't give me that. We of course bought lots of worthless nicknacks from the Brewery, including Horne's fashionable Heineken rolling travel bag that we used to put all of our junk in. This led to our last night in Amsterdam...
To start off the last night, we fell for the worst tourist trap I've ever been a part of. I'm blaming the girls for this one. We went to what was called the "Ice Bar." If you're ever in Amsterdam, stay away. I would rather pay 15 euros to let Brock Lesnar crow hop me in the stomach than sit in an oversized freezer, watch some 5 minute long, random 3D video with talking penguins run around asking people for some key to get into an igloo bar. I still don't know what the video's purpose was besides making me mad, cold, and confused. Oh well. We fell for it and you live and you learn. We then proceeded to the same area of clubs/bars that we went to the night before. I mean what better way to continue the night than with a techno pub. I mean seriously. The music is everywhere. Elevators play techno elevator music. Cabs play techno cabbie music. I don't understand. I have this constant beat in my head now. We then proceeded to our last club in Amsterdam. They were having a special...none other than techno. I'm sold that a Taco Bell playing nothing but techno music would be a billion dollar investment in Europe. I've yet to see a Taco Bell and everyone loves techno music. "I'd like a double decker taco, cinnamon twists, and some techno." Boom. Billion dollars in your pocket. I know I would have enjoyed it. You would too. After a small run-in with some locals in which I found myself talking culture with this guy while the group proceeded 200 yards ahead...thanks for that btw, we got in cabs and headed back to the Hostel. After another Hostel slumber party, being registered, and a good night's sleep later, it was time to head back to the UK. As we waited hours in line to check in, unknown to myself, I cut in front of what was a gigantic foreign guy and got my ticket. Again, no one informed me he was angry and he could have literally thrown me across the English Channel. We finally made it back and are safe and sound in Cambridge. Two days from now the 6 of us guys are heading to Switzerland for a relaxing weekend of white water rafting and canyoning in Interlaken, Switzerland. The girls have decided it was best to avoid this trip (babies) and find their own travel plans. I'm really not sure what we are getting ourselves into with this white water rafting and canyoning business, but we have a photographer following us the whole way, so our screaming and crying will be documented for all to see. This will make for some of the best pictures of the trip. Oh, and Interlaken has a Hooters. How American is that. Ok, that's enough from me for now. I cannot believe I'm half way done with this program this weekend. It's going by way too fast. Lot's of memories still to make, and they start this weekend in Switzerland. I'm going to post pics from the weekend soon along with others from other cameras. Hope things are great back in the US and will be talking to you soon. Amsterdam 1 Americans 0
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Week 2 Update
This is going to be a short post, because we are about to eat what is going to be our best meal to date in Cambridge, Pizza Hut. Laugh all you want, but air conditioning, ice, pizza, and free refills is pretty much VIP treatment. Soccer,volleyball, and punting have consumed most our time during the afternoon (after several hours of studying, of course), which has led to some pretty sore legs, arms and other areas of the body. I managed to even get parallel with the ground before landing flat on my back. Taking one for the team, I guess. Punting has to be one of the best workouts possible the first time you attempt it. I managed to only hit two guided tours, including one full of people from somewhere in East Asia. Don't worry, they all will have 200 copies of the same picture of me doing everything possible not to hit them and for me not to fall in.
As for this past weekend, aside from our Wimbledon experience, which was absolutely awesome, (minus the 100 degree and flat out funky smelling underground ride from Wimbledon to Kings Cross) we decided to hang out in Cambridge and enjoy the town. Mission accomplished. We even managed to find the best air conditioner in town while meeting several of the locals. Nice people really. One of them even said "What's up, y'all?" in what I might add was her terrible attempt at a Southern accent.
We've got a full schedule coming up with legal London on Friday, followed up with a quiet trip to Amsterdam this weekend. Obviously, none of us have ever been to Amsterdam, but are looking forward to it. We managed to find an awesome Hostel with flat screen TV's and in the middle of everything...something tells me there's a catch. The college bar opened this week which has been a nice, cheaper change from the expensive night life of Cambridge. Cheap beer here is about 2.50 pounds, or roughly $4.00. Last night we got to see some of the other colleges thanks to Michael who had some connections here in Cambridge. Friendly people. They seem to like the game Jenga as well...I'll have a better post with pictures after this weekend's festivities! Oh, and have any of you tried the wine, Sherry? I have no doubt in my mind it could be used as an alternative fuel source. Absolutely horrible and the locals drink it like water. Brutal. Anyway, hope everything is going well back home and you're all enjoying air conditioning, ice, TV, and any other sense of normal life that is lacking over here. No, I'm not bitter. ha Talk to you soon.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
As for this past weekend, aside from our Wimbledon experience, which was absolutely awesome, (minus the 100 degree and flat out funky smelling underground ride from Wimbledon to Kings Cross) we decided to hang out in Cambridge and enjoy the town. Mission accomplished. We even managed to find the best air conditioner in town while meeting several of the locals. Nice people really. One of them even said "What's up, y'all?" in what I might add was her terrible attempt at a Southern accent.
We've got a full schedule coming up with legal London on Friday, followed up with a quiet trip to Amsterdam this weekend. Obviously, none of us have ever been to Amsterdam, but are looking forward to it. We managed to find an awesome Hostel with flat screen TV's and in the middle of everything...something tells me there's a catch. The college bar opened this week which has been a nice, cheaper change from the expensive night life of Cambridge. Cheap beer here is about 2.50 pounds, or roughly $4.00. Last night we got to see some of the other colleges thanks to Michael who had some connections here in Cambridge. Friendly people. They seem to like the game Jenga as well...I'll have a better post with pictures after this weekend's festivities! Oh, and have any of you tried the wine, Sherry? I have no doubt in my mind it could be used as an alternative fuel source. Absolutely horrible and the locals drink it like water. Brutal. Anyway, hope everything is going well back home and you're all enjoying air conditioning, ice, TV, and any other sense of normal life that is lacking over here. No, I'm not bitter. ha Talk to you soon.
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
Friday, June 25, 2010
Cambridge: Week 1
If the next five weeks are going to top my first week in Cambridge, I'm in for the best trip I will probably ever be a part of. I have met an awesome group of people that I spend pretty much any time I am out of my room with. We come from law schools at Arkansas, Ole Miss and Texas Tech. I don't even know where to start with this week's events. First, I'll get the boring stuff out of the way. Class with the British professors is great. They love us being here and it shows. They couldn't be nicer. The food on the other hand, is well, below par. All the stories about English food lacking are true. We take odds on who can get closest to what we will actually be having for lunch. Breakfast is the same everyday, including baked beans. Yes, baked beans. I've started to realize the little things we take for granted such as water in our rooms that we can drink and cold sodas. Both are tough to find. As for some of the experiences:
We all managed to find the most popular pub for English fans in Cambridge to try to find the U.S. soccer game. As you can imagine, we failed. However, watching England with these people was a much better experience. We throw hats to celebrate graduation. England fans throw cups of beer when England scores. I'm not joking. I wasn't really sure why our beers came in big plastic cups, but I soon found out why. I got hit by at least three of them during the goal and the victory. My clothes are still drying. We then turned our attention to London yesterday and the ambition of getting into Wimbledon. To sum it up, Wimbledon is what I would consider an athletic Woodstock. When we got to London we hadn't booked a place to stay. We figured, well it's a city of 5 million people, plenty of cheap places to stay. The first place we go to ask, a 5-star hotel. Note, don't ask at a 5-star hotel where the nearest hostel is. We were ran out of the place as they cussed us out the door. However, we managed to find a hostel on the Wimbledon side of London that was perfect. There was six of us and we had a 6 bed room with our own bathroom, which is crucial. I'm not a fan of sharing showers, especially with people I don't know, especially people I don't know from different countries. Gross. Anyway, as we ventured on the town, we must have stuck out like, well, Americans. I don't know if it was the Polo shirts, cologne, or the gazing around like lost dogs. A guy approached us that worked for a place called Zoo Bar (look it up) and offered to let us see the place, which was in a safe, lit area (don't worry Mom), and claimed there were already 400 people inside and he would allow us to skip line and cut us a deal on cover since we were American. We took him up on it, and I'm glad we did. It was great. Perfect way to spend a night in London. Even met some Californians, which, by the way is nice to hear an accent that is much closer to yours.
After a good night's rest (ha) we started our adventure to Wimbledon. Incase you don't know, you can line up (queue) and get day passes on the day you want to go. The only problem, you have to get there 3 hours before gates open and there are already 7,000 people ahead of you. Actually 7, 417. My queue number was 4, 718. After ariving at 8, we managed to stand in line, in the burning sun, but finally got in Wimbledon at 2 p.m. Needless to say, it was an experience that I'm so glad I did, but can't say it's on my list to do again. The area you wait is a gigantic field that everyone brings food, beer, tents, papers, foreign accents, anything you want just about. In fact, some Dutch guys behind us actually bought some beers off us for 2 pounds each. Money in the pocket is better than a warm Fosters any day. And I do mean warm. When you can't feel a cold beer through the box, you know it's warm. Warm beer is common, and I can't say I'm used to it, but it's ok. Kabab shops help keep you fed in a somewhat normal manner and go good with a warm beer. Anyway, our trip to Wimbledon was a success. We got in the gates and picked a court. When we sat down we asked a lady who was playing and she said of all things, Roger Federer is about to have a practice session. We were on the front row. I knew this couldn't be true. The pictures below will prove she was right. Watching him warm up was awesome. I can't imagine what returning a serve from him would be like, much less getting drilled in the hip by one. It would hurt. Bad. What more could you ask for? Wimbledon, VIP club access (sortof) and Roger Federer. Needless to say, it's been an awesome first week. Eight of us will be traveling to Amsterdam next weekend, so I can't wait. I'm about to get a little nap in, but I hope everyone is doing awesome back home. I'm so lucky to be here, and I know it's only going to get better. Talk to you all soon. Miss y'all! Here's a few pics, btw. I'll do another post with all pics! Bye!
Until my next post,
Life's a garden. Dig it.
Woodard
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