Back in the USA

I've officially left the European continent, and according to Homeland Security, fit to remain in the United States. The past week, my last week, was great, and the majority of it was spent in the financial hub that is Switzerland. After a short stint in Geneva, I headed to Interlaken, which is a small town that lies in the gateway to the largest peaks in the Alps. Wednesday was my only full day there, and I took advantage of it by training into the mountains a ways before heading up on a hike.

The view from the valley town of Lauderbrunnen was already amazing, with steep walls lining on the west and east and thin, tall waterfalls shooting down the mountainside towards the river below. The hike from there to the town of Wengen wasn't too bad, as most of it was tree-covered, and it was over in about an hour. I even ran into a fellow Wisconsinite, which has happened more often than you would think over here.

After Wengen, I had a feeling the hike would get a bit harder, as the squiggly line on my map leading to Mannlichen was the same length as the one I had just hiked, and yet it had an estimated climb time of over three hours. The mountain path began across railroad tracks. Beyond that, there was something of a Swiss postcard. Dozens of big, brown and white cows lying and standing in the hillside, their huge bells swinging under their necks and ringing in different tones and frequencies, like some cowbell orchestra. Even Bruce Dickinson would've been satisfied.

Around this time the cloud cover started to dissipate quite a bit and the sun was hot. For a while, the spots of trees between the big grass fields provided cover, but two hours into the hike I was above the treeline, and the trail was pretty much just rocks, and it was hot. So I was relieved when I reached Mannilichen and the clouds rolled over again. A short climb brought me to the Mannilichen peak, which offered a great view of the surrounding valleys.

It looked as if it might rain, but I was fairly confident I could make the hour-plus hike to the next town, so I headed out, and I was right, by about five minutes. The rain, and eventually hail, started coming down hard about that long after I boarded the train down the mountain.

The next morning I packed up and took a long boat ride across Thunsee toward Thun, where I would catch a train to Bern to meet up with a friend. It was a nice boat ride, so nice, in fact, that I eventually fell asleep and woke up with bright red kneecaps. Sunburnt kneecaps hurt a bit in the morning.

It was great to see Flo again in Bern, and later Luzern. Flo, Barry, and I spent most of the time eating, drinking, and chatting while walking around the cities. Apart from the inevitable nightly rain, the last few days in Switzerland were quite nice.

I boarded a night train in Basel, and woke up in my couchette at 5:30 to the sound of crying baby, which I only slightly prefer to my own alarm. On top of that, the train was running two hours late, which is out of character for a German train. I eventually arrived in Utrecht, checked into my hostel, the same hostel I checked into six months previous when I first arrived in the city, and dropped my bags off, before heading to the Dutch countryside to meet Barry's sister for the rest of my bags. And of course, my new wooden shoes.

I spent the afternoon walking around the city I'd grown fond of over the past half-year, and it was a little rainy. I also didn't really know anyone that was still around, and I even got a little turned around a bit south of the Dom. So in some ways, it felt a lot like my first day in Utrecht. I had a few Belgian biers at Cafe Belgie, and tried to ignore the fact that the PBR still sitting in my garage fridge at home wasn't going to hold a candle to what I had in front of me then.

I eventually made it back to the hostel, and I woke up early, with no problems getting to the train station, and getting through airport security with three carry-ons thanks to a little sneakiness.

And now I'm safely back in Green Bay, and getting used to everything again. It's not hard, but I react a bit differently to certain things. I had really gotten used to hearing passing conversations in Dutch, and I would have to make an effort to listen had I wanted to understand the topic. But now I'm back to hearing all sorts of shit I don't want to. Driving is a bit of a disappointment, I was hoping it would be harder.

But of course, I'm happy to be back for the same reasons it was difficult to leave Utrecht. I get to spend some of that cherished family time, and see the friends I've missed dearly. I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything, and given the chance, would change nothing. I owe worlds of thanks to my parents, family and friends for playing their part, however large or small, in helping create this opportunity for me.

Wow, French Riviera!

Hey folks, I escaped from France, though not in the direction I originally intended. I couldn't get a train out of Barcelona, so I had to skip it. My consellation is three extra days in Switzerland, starting with Geneva, which seems nice, but it's like I'm still in France because hey, they speak French here.
Anyhow, Nice was awesome. Not a cloud in three days, beautiful beaches and big hilly landscapes. I caught the fireworks over the Azur on Bastille Day, which made up about 50% of me missing the 4th. Less, probably. Anyhow, the hostel in Nice was great, what with that gourmet chef and 1 euro beers. Definitely a great place to relax and get a little tan. Taking a dip in the salty Riviera bay was one of the more refreshing things I've done. Ever. Floating on my back, watching yachts move out to sea and seeing hills filled with villas behind me (not too mention a large beach) was nothing short of blissful.
Tomorrow will be spent touring Geneva, and maybe getting out on the giant lake (Lake Geneva) for a little paddling. Then it's off to the extreme sports capitol of Europe, Interlaken, for two days of mountain hiking.
It's really freaking hot in Europe right now, just check the weather if you don't believe me. I hope it cools of slightly up in the Alps, but I know I'll miss the weather when I spend my last day in Holland. A nice rain shower would be fitting....

Shame on me, no updates...

So I've been on the road since the Monday before last, and only had one chance to type a bit on the blog. A combination of no free net, no free time, and a spinning head have prevented me from taking the iniative. I'll do my best to give a synopsis, though the sun is high in Nice, and the French Riviera is calling...
Budapest was a really cool town, and spending the Fourth there was a bit weird, sans coolers filled with beer and skies filled with fireworks. I survived, and moved on to Vienna, where I stayed at a cozy hostel SE of the old center, called Hostel Ruthensteiner. A friend from Utrecht, Felix, studies in Vienna and was there to show me around town, though not before noon, as he was still adjusting to the post-study abroad time schedule. Vienna is an impressive city in the way of architecture, thanks to the long ruling Hapsburgs, and also as a social culture. We enjoyed Austrian's finest while watching the Live Earth concerts projected on a huge screen in front of the massive gothic city hall. The weather in Vienna was hot and sunny, but thankfully I got my hair chopped off in Budapest, so I was comfortable. The back of my neck and top of my ears suffered though, as they hadn't seen sun in quite a while.
Next, I hopped a night train down to Venice, Italy, for my first couchette experience. A couchette is six beds in a tiny room on a long overnight train. This train also happened to be Italian, so I arrived in Venice 2 1/2 hours late. Thankfully, I found a bed in a city where one should book weeks ahead. The place is an ex-convent turned dorm, and had a great location just north of the Grand Canal. Venice looks just like it does in the pictures. Gorgeous. I just put my camera away after a while, because every corner is a postcard. The gelado and vino are also up to par. I didn't take a gondola ride, but I did buy a day pass on the vaporettos, or water buses, and hopped around the islands from Lido, the beach seperating the Venice Lagoon from the Adriatic Sea, to Burano, a small fishing island famous for lace, and finally Murano, a glass blowing haven. Being in a city where the only transport was boat was very cool, and the weather agreed, until the last night, when it poured, which was the icing on the cake for a day that included a bank card failure.
In the morning the skies were clear again, and I started a train trip trans-Northern Italy that included me getting booted off a train in Verona, barely catching one to Milano, then missing my stop in Genova. I finally got to the right station in Genova, and took a long bus ride up into the hills to the only hostel in town. Barry met up with me here. Genova turned out to be a town full of surprises. The capital of Liguria and the armpit of the Ligurian coast, Genova is built around a huge port. There are massive castles and fortresses built into the walls, most of which have no been converted into museums, city buildings or private housing. The port itself is really cool, with massive ships moving in and out all day. We enjoyed some pasta out, which beat the hell out of what they were serving at the hostel. Last nigth, we headed out above our hostel for a hike at dusk. Before long, we were high above the city, and walking alongside an ancient wall. I could see the neighboring towns, and Genova lit up far below. On the way back it was pretty dark, and with no flashlight I felt like I violated the Boy Scouts motto. There were, however, about a million fireflies in the woods, and a cell phone provided enough light to move slowly down the paths. About ten minutes from the hostel, something big was coming down the hill up and on our left. I saw it for an instant as it crossed the path in front of us and continued down the hill. It was a big cat. Like mountain lion big. This got the heart beating a bit, and we hurried down the remainder of the way, not talking until we reached the road near the hostel. Fun stuff.
We got up early this morning and caught a train for Nice. We stopped off in Monaco, because why not? The place is filthy rich, and the port shows it. Full of yachts. We hiked up the hill to the palace, which provided a great view over the bay. There was no reason to stay for very long, because I had neither the garb nor the bankroll to step foot in the Monte Carlo, and I wasn't interested in paying 7 euro for a lemonade. So it was off to Nice, where we are now, staying at Villa St Exupery north of the city. From here, it's up in the air. Our train to Barcelona might be in possible, so we're looking at maybe Interlaken instead, because I wouldn't mind a little more mountain hiking. And it's close to Bern, where we'll visit Florian on Thursday. From there it's back to Holland for a night before the big flight home. Crazy. I'll probably get one more of these up before heading back, but if not, I'll see you around. Looking forward to it.

And I'm off...

Ok, so my last days in Utrecht were extremely busy and hectic and more than a little overwhelming, but now I'm quite a ways away, in Hungary, and have some time to collect my thoughts. I won't attempt to undermine my time in Holland by summarizing it or choosing a greatest hits list. Anyone who read the blog knows I enjoyed and cherish the time I had. So I'll leave it at that, and will of course be more than willing to tell stories and relate experiences when I return.
As I said, I have now begun my 3 week long journey that should bring me from Budapest to Venice, to Nice and Barcelona, Torino and Switzerland before I head back to Holland to fly out of Schipol. It took 14 hours and three trains to get to Budapest. I left from Utrecht Centraal at 8:30 yesterday, switched trains with a ten minute window in Frankfurt, then switched again in Vienna. There is a noticeable difference in German trains and Hungarian trains. German trains smell like hand-picked flowers. Hungarian trains smell like stale, day old urine. That you're sitting in. German trains have safety devices on their doors, and there is no smoking allowed. On Hungarian trains, you can smoke while hanging out the door when the train is moving. For instance. So I arrived in Budapest around 23:00 last night and found my hostel with little trouble. It's by far the smallest hostel I've stayed in, barring the pension in Sevilla, and it sleeps 16. This also means the people are nicer, and more stuff is free. Free towel, and free breakfast, to name two. It's a cozy place.
I woke up this morning and headed out to see the city by foot. Budapest is split into Buda and Pest by the Dunbar river. The Pest side is very grid-like and more modern, and the Buda side is extremely hilly, with winding roads and paths leading up. It's one of those places where you want to take a picture of anything. That bridge. That statue. This small child letting her dog lick her feet, then her ice cream cone. Don't worry, I didn't take a photo of that.
It was a lengthy day, full of hill climbing and gawking at architecture, so I'm trying to relax back at the hostel for a while tonight. I'm also not quite recovered from the last week, where sleep was hard to come by, and I had to say good bye to a few people a day. That being said, I'll be cooking dinner with a few people here in not too long, then getting ready for another long day tomorrow. Budapest offers quite a bit to see, and for that matter do. I'm toying with the idea of going caving in Buda's labyrinth, though I'm not sure if I'll have the energy. An alternative is firing large handguns in the hills. Not as appealing, but it might be a fitting 4th of July activity. I need to make some loud noises, and fireworks are a lot more illegal here.
I wish everyone a Happy 4th, and I look forward to seeing you soon.

Last week in Utrecht

Wow. I'm starting my last week in Utrecht, which is nearly impossible to comprehend. But all things must pass, right George? This past weekend was great. I spent an extended evening roaming around Amsterdam with a few close friends Thursday, and I'm glad I did, because I came away with a new perspective on the city. It was the first time I took the 27 minute train without any real plans. No visitors, no museums, no attractions. And we didn't bring a map either. I've grown to see Amsterdam as some sort of weird amusement park, always packed with people and sometimes a little suffocating. On Thursday it was a little rainy, but hey, it's Holland. And the streets were, oddly enough, rather empty. Our wanderings brought us outside of the ring, into the real neighborhoods of Amsterdam, where real people live. These areas are where the city really shows its true beauty. The sky cleared up as the longest day of the year stretched out. The sky never really got dark until around 2, and only stayed that way to 4. I'll spare anymore detail in the interest of content, but we were all pretty well exhausted when we made it back to Utrecht.
No rest for the wicked though, as Friday was the Swede's much anticipated Midsummer's Party, for which I was told to bring a pasta salad. And, vodka. I was scolded for bringing "Communist" vodka (Stoli), and not Absolut. This was soon forgotten admist Swedish drinking songs and a buffett of Swedish fare including meatballs, pickled herring, and some tasty cookies. Later, as the group got bigger, we headed out to Grift Park for some games, which were mostly designed to embrass those of us who had been drinking since 5. There was a sack race. There was one of those egg on spoon in mouth races. And lastly, there was a game where you spin around an umbrella ten times before sprinting towards an awaiting shot. This is where people started to show their true colors. I watched an Austrian law student run aimlessly toward a house, a master mathemetician give up completely, and I dropped on my ass. Twice. This was followed by Swedish dancing, and then the rain forced us back to the flat. There are of course, more stories to be told, but I'll save them for another time.
I spent most of yesterday studying, but I couldn't concentrate very well, as I was thinking a lot about saying good bye and such. So I wrote up a little note for my friends here, as an attempt to describe what my time here as meant to me. You may not be able to relate as well, but feel free to read below, if you'd like...


Traditionally, I've never been good at sentimentalities, goodbyes, or any graceful combination of the two. I bat a better lead-off than a clean-up. So in anticipation of (or in apologies for) our last conversation, chat, laugh, or extended embrace, which may or may not resemble your favorite Hollywood ending, I'll make an effort to express myself.

I've recently been asked, by family, friends and ex-bosses, some simple variation of the question: "How has studying abroad been?" I've either ignored the question, filing the e-mail away into my 'reply later' folder, or replied with some weak positive adjective. "Good. Great. Amazing. Fun." These answers are true, but they're also words I've used to describe a dentist appointment, sushi, Packer wins, and slow-pitch softball, respectively.

So I'm struggling for a worthy verbal description. I considered just inventing a word, like 'wowserfuloffunbeerhahamygod', and then just simultaneously laughing, crying, grinning, and being obnoxiously drunk every time someone asked, "How's it been?" But it seemed like the easy way out.

Where does one start? Utrecht? Meandering canals and narrow streets, a biker's right-of-way, and it's very own guiding light of a medieval tower. Class? Yes, there are classes. Travel? Exciting, challenging, gratifying. I could talk all day and in the end fail to offer an accurate portrayal of any of the tangibles that made my stay here so...wowserfuloffunbeerhahamygod. And even if I succeeded, I wouldn't have told 1% of the entire story.

It's no secret to you that the people are what have made this experience what it is. Each biertje at 't Pothuys, late night at Storm, late arrival on a bus, coffee on the square, dinner in the kitchen, or hazy recollection of nights past is memorable because of the people. People who played the role of comedian, bad influence, tease, devil's advocate, crush, supportive arm, and more in some combination and rotation that kept things just interesting enough to not be dizzying. Friends.

So it's the people. And I don't plan on doing the injustice of an amateur biographer to any of you. So everyone else will have to settle for 1% of the story. It might get near 10% if they hang around for enough of my stories and really listen. The rest is some collective experience that'll never all be in one place at one time again.

Does that make these last days a graduation? No, that has too much of an academic connotation, and I know a few of us didn't attend enough class to call this a scholarly endeavor. And graduation implies a next step, a new era. But it's obvious to me that the last five-odd months have been more than a piece of the puzzle. It's more like the soda you spill on the puzzle. And your mom yells at you for getting it on the carpet. Most of the pieces are always going to be sticky and some of the edges a little bent-up, but I'll keep putting this one together.

In all seriousness, and with the utmost sincerity, thank you for being part of what has made my time abroad what it is. Whatever it is. I can only hope I've added positively to yours.

In the interest of not diving deeper into cheesiness and poor metaphors, I'll stop here. I'll most likely see most of you in the next few days. Maybe even for a beer tonight. But just remember, in case I call you by the wrong name, tell you a misguided joke or step on your toes at Storm, I meant well. And you always have a place when you come to Wisconsin (It looks like a hand, kind of in the middle, and left of Lake Michigan).

With love,
Tyler

I tend to blog when I'm avoiding economics...

I unfortunately cannot avoid it any longer, as a presentation and a paper both come due Wednesday, and my final, which is a whopping 75% of my final mark, is next Tuesday evening. As they say, it's crunch time. Fortunately, the weather has been perfect for spending hours pouring over a textbook, if there's ever perfect conditions for such a thing. It also helps that many of my friends are facing the same challenges, so no one's pressuring me to go out, or just stay in and avoid the academics. Anyhow...

I can't recall if I've said much about the international student event-organizing body on campus, Erasmus Student Network, or ESN, as we so affectionately refer to it. ESN is responsible for setting up quite a few weekend trips, parties, and tours of sorts, a percentage of which I've taken part in. They are almost always a good time, as they involve a load of internationals and usually end in a pub. ESN also "hosts" international nights every week at STORM, a club, and 't Oude Pothuys, which has an open mic and/or live music every night of the week. This past Friday they hosted a "Bang on the Beach" party to commemorate the end of the semester. The party was held, as advertised on the beach in Den Haag, which borders the North Sea. The party got rolling around 2 in the afternoon, but my almost-always-late group didn't get out of Utrecht until 4, and arrived around 6. Fortunately, this was just in time for the BBQ, which was a major draw for the 10 euro ticket price. Before I could get in line for my food, I had a nice encounter with the most obnoxious drunk I've met here. Yes he's American, you guessed it. From Boston, nonetheless. Anyhow Dave is shirtless, stumbling, bleeding profusely from his legs and claiming to have drank two bottles of Martini, but he has a little left for me. Keep in mind it's not yet 7. I got him to sit down for about 15 minutes, but before long he was back at it, hitting on anyone in sight in between shrieks of pain as he realized he had only an hour ago ran into a barbed wire fence. With that appetizing thought in mind, I got in line for food. There were some great appetizers, and the main course was raw meat. There were a few big grills outside, and we all stood around them, charring our hamburgers, chicken legs and kip kebabs. I hadn't sat down two minutes when Dave came flying around the corner, claiming someone took his booze as he came very close to knocking over about six bottles of wine and at least as many plates of food. You'll be surprised to know I saw the same guy ordering Burger King and boarding a train at 2am.

The rest of the night went very well. We drank wine, took a dip in the North Sea (cold), and threw around a disc, and even an American football! I was in heaven. The sun doesn't really set until around ten this time of year in Holland, so we had plenty of sunlight hours. And when it did finally set, we were treated to a real nice view, as some thin clouds rolled across the sky to the north, turning shades of pink as they crossed the sun dropping behind the waves. It got a bit rowdier after the sun went down, as things tend to do, and there was a DJ, free shots, and some rolling in the sand involved. A large group of us decided to head back to Utrecht around 1:30, and eventually boarded a train home at 2:25. The bad part about night trains is that they go all over the place, since there are less of them running. So it was around 4 by the time we were back at Parnassos, and I was sandy, so I still had to take a shower. Barry did not take a shower, and when he woke up in the morning he felt "like a sandcrab".

Since that time I've been spending a lot of time on the books, but there are a few fun activities on the horizon. Wednesday I'm headed out with my Dutch mentors, who I haven't seen for a while, for dinner and drinks. And Thursday I head to Amsterdam for a sort of last hoorah with some of the guys, and we plan to have a nice, safe evening. Of course. Then Friday the Swedes are putting on their Midsummer's Party, which will feature lots of Swedish food and the traditional activities of the homeland. So good times.

"This little mother has claws..."

It's late on Monday evening, or early Tuesday morning, and I'm having trouble sleeping because the 4 hours I had this afternoon were the first of sleep in 30. This is a small consequence of flying discount central european airlines. You must fly out at 6:40am, and your airport isn't exactly in the metropolitan area of your city of destination. Although I'm a bit worn down, the last 5-6 days have been much worth the trouble. The Czech Republic is further east in Europe than I have yet been, and the country showed a marked difference from the Paris' and Amsterdams of the west. Prague, or Praha, especially has signs of the strong eastern european influence being only slightly successfully overtaken by the western cultural standard.

I traveled with five other American males, which is unlike any trip I've yet taken. With me at the airport Wednesday morning were Mike and Barry, whom I've taken a few trips with, and Robert, Zach, and another Mike. Rob lives downstairs in my building, and has gained a reputation of being "surprisingly awkward." Both Zach and Mike are from southern California, and live in the more secluded University College Utrecht campus. We flew out from Amsterdam's Schipol airport at 8:50 and had a small delay, landing in Prague close to 10:30, about 25 minutes behind schedule. A little disorientated, we made the uncharacteristic and idiotic mistake of buying the "Prague Card" that claims entry to "most of Prague's most famous sites." A small part of me begged to hang on to my money and pay for only what I truly wanted to see, and that small part has been surprisingly influential in the past, but at that moment, I apparently cared less. We also bought a 7 day transport pass, which ended up being a great deal.

We boarded a bus I would've nicknamed The Sardine Can and rode that to the first metro stop on the Prague grid. The ride felt like a full body workout, because we were standing with our bags, and trying to remain upright while the bus driver took corners like he was driving a Mazda Miata. When I emerged from the metro entrance hole in the ground, it was immediately apparent that our hostel had an excellent location. From the small city square I could see the Charles Bridge tower and the spires of the Tyn Church. A 5 minute walk brought us to our hostel, Traveller's Hostel, and we checked in to an 8 bed room on the 2nd floor of a building wrapped around a small courtyard. Once settled, we headed out to put together a small lunch at the near Albert, which turned out to be the Czech version of Albert Hijn, the popular Dutch grocery chain. We enjoyed the lunch in a park that turned out to be more of a dog-shitting park. It was at this park that I heard the loudest thunder I've ever heard, and before long big, fat heavy drops were falling from the sky.

We were soaked before we reached the hostel. It was just horizontal enough to ensure that my entire front was soaked while my back remained dry. The only natural thing to do was take a nice long nap on my back. When everyone had woken up, we walked out in the Stare Mesto, or Old Town. The weather had cleared up but the humidity hadn't broken. Stare Mesto is filled with spires, and spires means towers, which I happen to love climbing, so I instantly liked the city. The Old Town Square contained the fantastic Tyn Church and the famous astronomical clock. At one point there was a large crowd around it, and some bells rung, but it wasn't obvious to me why. I personally find the 12 hour clock a bit more useful. I'd been told to find food and drink outside of Stare Mesto, where the tourist prices are in effect, so we crossed the Charles Bridge into Mala Strana. The Charles Bridge is the coolest bridge I've ever seen. I has a great view of the Prague Castle and is lined with huge stone statues. The Stare Mesto is kind of in a valley, and relatively flat, but outside of that Prague is extremely hilly. Big, winding cobblestone streets weave up into the hills and side streets dip off at some wicked angles. We found a place to eat some Mexican, the first time I've attempted it on Euro-soil. It turned out to be great, and we washed it down with 1/2 litres of Pilsner Urquell, which was priced really well if one looked in the right places. We had another beer down the street, where the Bohemian pilsner would only put you back 23 Ck, or just over an American dollar. You have to understand how appealing this is to a group of people who've been paying around 2 euros for a biertje for the last four+ months. On our way up to the Castle, we found another genuine Bohemian place on a steep side street. I'm not sure how traditional the waitress' midriff-baring garb was, but the rest of the place looked like a medieval dungeon. We eventually made it up to the Castle entrance, and the place was deserted sans a Czech guard, who didn't seem to mind that we walked in for a look around. The Castle contains a magnificent gothic church, impressive gardens, and a multitude of royal buildings. A few minutes late we discovered why there was no one on the grounds, as a dozen Czech guards swept across the exit path and pointed us back to where we came from.

Once back at the hostel everyone was pretty beat so we called it a night. Later, that night, around 3 or 4am, I woke up to a large crash that sounded like it was right outside our window. Soon after there was some screaming, moaning, and people running up and down stairs. I got up to look out the door and see what was going on, and by then the ambulance had pulled into the courtyard. Someone, I'm assuming the person who was moaning, was placed in the vehicle and it drove off. The next ten minutes would provide some clarity. The commotion continued, until a large Czech man walked out onto the balcony across the way and started screaming at the top of his lungs for anyone, everyone to "shut the expletive up, I have to work in the morning! I'm sick of you expletive tourists! I'm not on holiday!" An American responded saying that his "friend just tried to commit suicide." The Czech guy did not care, and this banter went back and forth for a while, concluding when the Czech guy dumped a bucket of water on yet another "expletive tourist" in the courtyard below. Ahh, the hostel life.

Thursday morning we woke up, had breakfast on the hostel, and headed west back toward Prague Castle. We caught the changing of the guard, which was a bit lengthy and failed to keep my attention in the sweltering heat. We cooled off when we toured St Vitus Cathedral and climbed the tower, of course. This is when we became suspicious that our decision to purchase the Prague Card had been poor, and made in haste. Anything I wanted to see was either already free or not included on the card. Chalk one up to to indifference. The view from the castle grounds is pretty amazing, as it's built on a massive hill. We climbed down and caught lunch at an Italian place south of the center before starting the hike to the top of Petrinske, because we were to cheap to throw down for the funicular. It was a nice hike up a winding path, and much of the hill was lined with cherry trees. At the top, we dipped into a mildly entertaining mirror labyrinth built to showcase a mural commemorating a battle in the 30 Years War. I liked it because they had those funhouse mirrors that make you and your friends look funny. We headed back into town and picked up some beer and snacks at the Albert. The Original Budweiser, or Budvar, was a hit. Another popular choice was the cheapest option, a 1/2 litre for only 5 crowns, or 25 cents American. That's a dangerous price. And it was good. Later that night, we had some disappointing kebabs at a nearby stand, then walked through the Jewish Town to the banks of the Vlatva River to relax and enjoy the beers. We called it before 2 in anticipation of the early bus to Český Krumlov.

Prague may not be as cheap as it claims to be, but I can't argue with a 5 euro, 3 hour bus ride to southern Bohemia. Our bus driver was born drive bus. He had the greasy haircut, the devil-may-care attitude, and an unnatural feel for the road. I sat shotgun, so I had an excellent view of the rolling Bohemian hills and valleys. We pulled into a parking lot labeled "International Bus Station" 30 minutes late and headed down the hill toward our hostel. Hostel 99 is located inside the old city walls of Český Krumlov, and has a cabin up north kind of feel to it. Ping pong and darts, cheap beer, and likeable staff. The city itself is unbelievably gorgeous. The Vlatva squirms through the city, creating a small pocket of land for the city center, which is a beautiful mess of cobblestone streets, pubs, and bon bon stores. We spent the day exploring the city and the castle grounds, which over look the city. There's a restaurant attached to the hostel, which turned out to both cheap and delicious. The local beer, Eggenberg, was the best we had in Czech, so we had a lot of it. Robert had bought himself a bottle of wine for some reason, and he drank it in 30 minutes, as if someone had threatened to take it away if it wasn't gone in an hour. He later stumbled off and passed out on a keyboard. Meanwhile, Mike, Barry, Zach and I headed into town to enjoy a cold Budweiser on draft. Barry had sworn off the beer earlier in the week, so when he found that this particular mug of beer was delectable, he refused to believe it was Budweiser, and bet me a beer it wasn't. Turns out, it's the only beer that charming establishment serves. Free beer for me.

Saturday morning was June 9th, the 22nd anniversary of my birth, so I was in high spirits. We were in for a nice rafting trip on the Vlatva, and the weather was perfect. Our "guide", or the guy who dropped us off up river, was an ex-chemical engineer for Halliburton. So he had some good stories. In response to my asking if he enjoyed living there, he said, in a New Zealand accent, "Well I don't have to walk around with armed guards." He also confirmed that Dick Cheney is an "fucking evil dude." We received a large rubber raft, six paddles, and a wet map, along with instruction to stop at the Babylon in town for lunch and a beer. Then we were on our own. The ride was nice, though at times no one paddled because sipping Eggenberg was more appealing. We eventually made it into town and found the Babylon, and had a great lunch and a some beer and absinthe. We also stopped paying attention to time, and the only one not consuming was Mike, who was on medication, and he's half-Guatemalan, so he literally has no sense of time. He thinks it takes 30 minutes to brush your teeth and 25 to watch the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Anyhow, we had to catch the last bus back to Praha at 5pm, it was 4, and we still had to paddle through town. Long story short, we made it, because the bus was 20 minutes late to the station. The bus ride back was unpleasant, simply put. People were standing for most of the three hour ride and sweating profusely. I include myself in 'people'. I would've been completely comfortable stripping down to my skivvies and taking advantage of the free sauna. Once back at the hostel in Prague, it was almost 9, so there was enough time to take a French shower before hitting the town. We hit up and Italian place off the old town square and enjoyed a beer in the basement with a dozen obnoxious Englishmen with tiny squirt guns. We spent the rest of the night bouncing around town drinking half litres, and capped off the night with a few birthday Jager shots and a giant mojito. I was sound asleep by 4.

And was rudely awaken at 9:30, because we had to check out by 10. No shower. No big deal. We raided the continental breakfast and headed out in a light rain to check out the Old Jewish Town. The attractions of the Jewish town were obviously not included on the Prague Card, which I loathe. Fortunately, the synagogues and cemetery were well worth the admission. The town has a very sad history, as do most ghettos in that part of the world. The weather cleared up and we checked out the National Museum, which is a classic old school museum, complete with stuffed animals and a large rock collection. Afterwards, we split up. The Mikes, Barry and I found a park to relax in while Rob and Zach checked out an art nouveau museum. The park turned out to be a good place to shoot heroin, as there were a number of people doing so in a 50 foot radius. Needless to say, we didn't nap. Later we walked back toward town, past the square commemorating two people who lit themselves on fire, and back toward the St. Charles Bridge. There we climbed the tower (#2, for those of you who are counting) and watched a weird documentary on how the bridge was built based on astronomical principles. From the tower we spotted a place one could rent those foot-paddle boats, and we took a pair out for an hour and watched the sun drop behind Prague Castle. All that paddling worked up a mighty appetite, and we crossed the Vlatva to find us an authentic Bohemian restaurant. And we did. We spent some of our last hours in the city drinking Pilsner Urquell from big heavy mugs that make a whole lot of noise when you smash them together, yelling "Nass Sdravee!!", which we did, many times. The food was great, like Bavarian food, with meat and sauerkraut, but also potato and bread dumplings. Tasty.

We got back to the hostel around midnight, determined to figure out how to get to the airport for as little as possible. There was a bit of spite for the hostel, because they kept our key deposits, so I would've walked before paying for their shuttle service. Mike and I eventually navigated the all Czech transit info and site and found a bus-tram-bus route to the airport. Surprisingly enough, 3 hours later we stumbled into terminal one. Then some of slept on the piss-stained linoleum. I do NOT include myself in that group. I couldn't sleep, and in fact didn't until around noon that day. Our departure was 6:40, so we had time to shop the airport mall briefly before boarding. Mike and I unloaded the last of our crowns on a bottle of absinthe, which meant we were skipping breakfast. One doesn't think too clearly on no sleep and five days among the Czech.

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Well it took me three days to finish this blog entry, but I've been kind of busy recovering from the trip and celebrating my birthday a bit in Utrecht. The rest of the week looks good. I'll be working on an economics project (topic: the history of econometrics. fascinating), and relaxing. Friday is the end of the semester beach party bash out at the beach in Den Haag, and Saturday I'm headed to a Dutch party. Enjoy Flag Day tomorrow. I'll be FINALLY picking up my residence permit at Utrecht Citystad, so that I can live the next three weeks here with no fear of deportation. God bless America. Someone pull a cold beer out of a cooler filled with ice for me.