I arrived in Budapest on the morning of June 21st. I got off the train with my things, and I saw, in the distance, an all-too-familiar person, a great friend from RMS, Gabor.
He greeted me and brought me via bus to his home just outside the main city. He explained that I should not be too quick to judge the city, the area around the station (as with every other city, the area around the station is quite ugly).
After dropping my things off and meeting his family, we set out to see the most important sites in Budapest. Most of these sites are called [something] "square", which essentially means there is a monument to someone and a large intersection nearby. There is the equivalent of the Champs-Elysées, a lot of museums and statues, and quite a few places to stop and have dessert. We went to the Butterfly for some typical Hungarian delicacies.
We later met up with my other good friend, Tamas, and went out to a few places for dinner and drinks, stopping to watch some soccer along the way.
The next day, we headed to the Hungarian Parliament building, a gorgeous palace-like structure on the Danube river. While waiting for our turn, we stopped at a second confectionery for some mid-morning sweets. After this, we took a tour inside the parliament and I learned a bit about Hungarian government.
After the tour, I did some souvenir shopping, then went back to Gabor's place to watch some soccer. We ate a typical Hungarian dinner, prepared by Gabor's mom, who is one of the sweetest people I've ever met. I was treated more or less like the prodigal son of the household.
After dinner, we went out to visit the castle on the Buda side of the river. This gave us a great view of the city, though the sun had gone down and it was getting dark. Time for a second night of bar-hopping (with Tamas, of course), and we saw a few really neat places. I especially enjoyed ordering drinks in part-english, part-sign language, with a bit of Hungarian mixed in.
These two days in Budapest reminded me how much more fun it is to travel with friends. It was the perfect end to my 3-week vacation. I returned home to Reims, ready to take on the immense task of packing my many suitcases.
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Land of Wieners
After seeing Salzburg, I must admit Vienna was not that interesting. One can see the whole town in a single day, assuming one knows what one wants to see.
If you think you want to see the Danube, don't, it's ugly.
The town centre (Stephansplatz and surrounding area) is pretty nice, with incredible shopping (2 Zaras and 3 H&Ms), and lots of historical buildings, but other than that, there's not much to see.
At least that's what I'd told myself before stepping onto the grounds of the Schonbrunn Palace.
This copy of Versailles is actually significantly nicer, inside and out. It combines the elegance of the Palacio Real de Madrid with the incredible gardens of Versailles, with all the modesty of a night at the Academy Awards. It was really nice, and would have been even better if not for the clouds.
After the Palace, I went back to the hostel for my last night in Austria. Next Stop: Budapest
If you think you want to see the Danube, don't, it's ugly.
The town centre (Stephansplatz and surrounding area) is pretty nice, with incredible shopping (2 Zaras and 3 H&Ms), and lots of historical buildings, but other than that, there's not much to see.
At least that's what I'd told myself before stepping onto the grounds of the Schonbrunn Palace.
This copy of Versailles is actually significantly nicer, inside and out. It combines the elegance of the Palacio Real de Madrid with the incredible gardens of Versailles, with all the modesty of a night at the Academy Awards. It was really nice, and would have been even better if not for the clouds.
After the Palace, I went back to the hostel for my last night in Austria. Next Stop: Budapest
F*** Mozart
I arrived in Innsbruck at 4:40 am. I was tired. I had 2 hours to wait til my train to Salzburg. Naturally, the only thing to do was leave my luggage at the train station and walk around taking pictures. Remember when I said "everytime there's a good view, some moron ruins it"? Well, Innsbruck is a perfect example. It is a town surrounded by mountains, and yet I could only see their peaks. Everything else was a tram line, strip club, or apartment building.
Annoyed at the human race, I went back to the station, and took the train to Salzburg.
Vast improvement. While the station at Salzburg is horribly designed (and under construction), once I found my hostel and dropped off my luggage, I was greeted with a wonderful riverside walkway, shopping in the old town, statues, museums, mountains and everything I'd hoped to see in Austria. Except for one thing. They are f***ing obsessed with Mozart.
The overrated little piece of garbage has his face plastered everywhere: restaurants, bars, museums, monuments, street names, souvenir stores, EVERYWHERE! I don't like Mozart, I think that's obvious, but even if I did, I would find this annoying. No, Hans, I don't want Mozart Steak, I want Triple-A Alberta Beef Steak. And no, I don't want another Mozart chocolate, they're nasty.
Bitterness aside, Salzburg was pretty awesome. I also have something to say about Austria's postal system. I sent a postcard Friday afternoon, and it arrived in Canada Monday morning. Efficiency at its best!
After a rainy day in Salzburg, I headed back to my favourite train station to go to my next city, Vienna...
Annoyed at the human race, I went back to the station, and took the train to Salzburg.
Vast improvement. While the station at Salzburg is horribly designed (and under construction), once I found my hostel and dropped off my luggage, I was greeted with a wonderful riverside walkway, shopping in the old town, statues, museums, mountains and everything I'd hoped to see in Austria. Except for one thing. They are f***ing obsessed with Mozart.
The overrated little piece of garbage has his face plastered everywhere: restaurants, bars, museums, monuments, street names, souvenir stores, EVERYWHERE! I don't like Mozart, I think that's obvious, but even if I did, I would find this annoying. No, Hans, I don't want Mozart Steak, I want Triple-A Alberta Beef Steak. And no, I don't want another Mozart chocolate, they're nasty.
Bitterness aside, Salzburg was pretty awesome. I also have something to say about Austria's postal system. I sent a postcard Friday afternoon, and it arrived in Canada Monday morning. Efficiency at its best!
After a rainy day in Salzburg, I headed back to my favourite train station to go to my next city, Vienna...
Mom, Can We Move Here?
Without being too direct, I would like to say that my stay in Sardegna was possibly the best thing that happened to me during the 6-day period between Maranello and Budapest. I could easily retire to a home in Palau. Though we should start from the beginning.
My flight was 2 1/2 hours late getting to Sardegna. Not that this mattered, as I got to check in to the most amazing hotel room I've ever seen, in the town of Olbia. The town itself is much nicer than Italians would have you believe, though it wasn't the highlight of this 2-day part of the trip.
After a good night's rest, I got up, having missed breakfast, and went to the reception desk wearing only my swimming trunks and my sandals. I asked the guy straight out "how do I get to the beach?" He laughed and took out a map. He said "you can take the bus to Pittalongu, it's 8 km away." So I walked to Pittalongu, a quick 2-hour trek through the Sarinian wilderness (read: Industrial parks).
What I saw when I finally arrived was amazing. White sand, gelato everywhere, and a gorgeous view of the Mediterranean Sea. Before I could relax, though, I needed sunscreen. So I walked into town, bought 12 Euros worth of sunscreen and a giant bottle of San Pellegrino cocktail, and went back to the beach to relax. I quite enjoyed this opportunity to lie down and not worry about anything.
A few hours later, after getting a bit of colour (red), I took the bus to the hotel, showered, and took a nap. I went for dinner (pizza, what else?), watched a soccer game, and went to bed.
My final day in Italy I went to Isola della Maddalena, an island off the northeast coast of Sardegna. This took 1 1/2 hours by bus, followed by 25 minutes on a ferry. The island itself is unimpressive, the area around the port is built up, and looked no different from Olbia. What I discovered on the way back to Olbia that afternoon, however, is the town of Palau.
There is nothing overly remarkable about this seaside town, other than that it gives breathtaking views from small, private beaches, hidden among palm trees along the coast. I took some time to relax and write a few postcards before my bus back to Olbia.
Once I returned to my hotel, I grabbed my luggage and jumped in a taxi to catch my flight back to Florence. From Florence, I took a train to Salzburg. Thus ended the Italian portion of my trip. Next up: Osterreich
My flight was 2 1/2 hours late getting to Sardegna. Not that this mattered, as I got to check in to the most amazing hotel room I've ever seen, in the town of Olbia. The town itself is much nicer than Italians would have you believe, though it wasn't the highlight of this 2-day part of the trip.
After a good night's rest, I got up, having missed breakfast, and went to the reception desk wearing only my swimming trunks and my sandals. I asked the guy straight out "how do I get to the beach?" He laughed and took out a map. He said "you can take the bus to Pittalongu, it's 8 km away." So I walked to Pittalongu, a quick 2-hour trek through the Sarinian wilderness (read: Industrial parks).
What I saw when I finally arrived was amazing. White sand, gelato everywhere, and a gorgeous view of the Mediterranean Sea. Before I could relax, though, I needed sunscreen. So I walked into town, bought 12 Euros worth of sunscreen and a giant bottle of San Pellegrino cocktail, and went back to the beach to relax. I quite enjoyed this opportunity to lie down and not worry about anything.
A few hours later, after getting a bit of colour (red), I took the bus to the hotel, showered, and took a nap. I went for dinner (pizza, what else?), watched a soccer game, and went to bed.
My final day in Italy I went to Isola della Maddalena, an island off the northeast coast of Sardegna. This took 1 1/2 hours by bus, followed by 25 minutes on a ferry. The island itself is unimpressive, the area around the port is built up, and looked no different from Olbia. What I discovered on the way back to Olbia that afternoon, however, is the town of Palau.
There is nothing overly remarkable about this seaside town, other than that it gives breathtaking views from small, private beaches, hidden among palm trees along the coast. I took some time to relax and write a few postcards before my bus back to Olbia.
Once I returned to my hotel, I grabbed my luggage and jumped in a taxi to catch my flight back to Florence. From Florence, I took a train to Salzburg. Thus ended the Italian portion of my trip. Next up: Osterreich
Of Mice and Manparts
Obvious Statue of David reference aside, Florence was a very interesting city. On arriving at Santa Maria Novella station, I made my way to our new accomodation, at a B&B not far from the station. I then walked my 22-kilogram luggage up 4 floors to my room.
The room consisted of 3 bunk beds, hostel-style. The food: Chinese all around, as the proprietors of the B&B were from *guess which country*. Not Italian, sure, but the price was right and the room made for a decent home base.
After dropping my things off, my friends and I headed to Pisa, to see a leaning tower, and to take pictures others just think are crooked. This is where Galileo Galilei observed stars, and possibly also invented defenestration. I don't remember exactly.
After Pisa, we returned to Florence to eat dinner. The details of most of what we did are foggy now, as I'm actually sitting in France, thinking about nothing other than the beach tomorrow, and going home on Tuesday. But I digress; I'll do my best to give some details.
On Day 2, we saw all of Florence. That is, 2 museums, including the Galleria dell'Accademia, where the statue of David is. We also saw Ponte Vecchio (old bridge lined with jewellery stores), Piazzale Michelangelo (with an awesome view of the city), and at least one other museum.
On Day 3, we separated. I went to Maranello, the home of Enzo Ferrari. Yes, that's the Ferrari. :D I spent the day seeing the museum, listening to the sounds of the nearby Formula1 test track, and shopping. Also, I rode in a Ferrari California. :D :D Highlight of the whole trip right there.
On the last day in Florence, Angela left for Venice, so I said my goodbyes and headed to the incredibly disappointing city of Siena. It is supposed to be gorgeous, with great views, but as I began to find out here (and this idea was reinforced in Austria), whenever there is a great view of mountains or a body of water, some moron puts a building or a fence or electrical wires in the way. I hate people.
After walking through Siena, I left, feeling annoyed that I spent a whole day walking around trying to find a view. To be fair, the old town was nice, and I ate really good pizza for lunch. Other than that, waste of time.
That night, I had my flight to the mystical and romantic island of Sardegna...
The room consisted of 3 bunk beds, hostel-style. The food: Chinese all around, as the proprietors of the B&B were from *guess which country*. Not Italian, sure, but the price was right and the room made for a decent home base.
After dropping my things off, my friends and I headed to Pisa, to see a leaning tower, and to take pictures others just think are crooked. This is where Galileo Galilei observed stars, and possibly also invented defenestration. I don't remember exactly.
After Pisa, we returned to Florence to eat dinner. The details of most of what we did are foggy now, as I'm actually sitting in France, thinking about nothing other than the beach tomorrow, and going home on Tuesday. But I digress; I'll do my best to give some details.
On Day 2, we saw all of Florence. That is, 2 museums, including the Galleria dell'Accademia, where the statue of David is. We also saw Ponte Vecchio (old bridge lined with jewellery stores), Piazzale Michelangelo (with an awesome view of the city), and at least one other museum.
On Day 3, we separated. I went to Maranello, the home of Enzo Ferrari. Yes, that's the Ferrari. :D I spent the day seeing the museum, listening to the sounds of the nearby Formula1 test track, and shopping. Also, I rode in a Ferrari California. :D :D Highlight of the whole trip right there.
On the last day in Florence, Angela left for Venice, so I said my goodbyes and headed to the incredibly disappointing city of Siena. It is supposed to be gorgeous, with great views, but as I began to find out here (and this idea was reinforced in Austria), whenever there is a great view of mountains or a body of water, some moron puts a building or a fence or electrical wires in the way. I hate people.
After walking through Siena, I left, feeling annoyed that I spent a whole day walking around trying to find a view. To be fair, the old town was nice, and I ate really good pizza for lunch. Other than that, waste of time.
That night, I had my flight to the mystical and romantic island of Sardegna...
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Roman Holiday
For those of you who like to read into the titles of my posts and figure out what they mean, this is not a reference to Audrey Hepburn, Gregory Peck, or Gossip Girl.
I left Frosinone and arrived in Rome on the afternoon of June 9th. I looked around Roma Termini station for a while before finding Angela and our other travel companion. I must say at this point that the three of us make a pretty great team. Between us, we can speak 3 languages, and coordinate shower times and meal times with ease.
We went to find our hotel, Tirreno, which was not far from the station. It is a nice, 3-star hotel, with rooms, lobby, breakfast and wi-fi to match. It was a good home base for our daily excursions.
Among all the things we saw are the following: Piazza d'Espagna (the Spanish Embassy and Steps), the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, the Roman Fora, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the Vatican (more on that in a second), Piazza Navona, and a hundred Gelateria, or "Gelateria" in English.
Let's focus on something important. The Vatican. Headquarters of the Catholic Church, home of Pope Benedict XVI, and what I believe has the highest tax-free revenue per capita in the world. Here is a place millions of people visit each year. Many of them are simple tourists, but there is a significant number of people who make the pilgrimage out of faith. For this effort, the Holy See sees fit to charge people to get in, then to see something inside, then again to leave. If you want to take in the entire Vatican experience, even as a student, you should expect to pay a minimum of 45 Euros, and that's if you wait in line and don't take a guided tour. This leads to an important issue: Should the Roman Catholic Church have to pay taxes?
My answer is simple: Yes, yes they should.
With 1 1/2 days of Roman siteseeing out of the way, I went to visit more family, in the city itself this time. Zia Franca and cousin Mario welcomed me much in the same way my family in Sora did, and I had a very pleasant evening discussing my studies, my family, politics, and other things in what I thought was my best effort at Italian thus far.
Bidding adieu to my great aunt and cousin, I went back to the hotel to meet up with Angela to figure out our plan for the next day. As it turns out, we went to Circo Massimo, a few museums, and then enjoyed some late-night gelato by the colosseum.
Saturday morning I packed my bags, enjoyed a nice breakfast in the hotel and headed off to Florence. I didn't stop there though... but that post will have to come later. Buona Notte from Firenze, hope you all have a good weekend.
I left Frosinone and arrived in Rome on the afternoon of June 9th. I looked around Roma Termini station for a while before finding Angela and our other travel companion. I must say at this point that the three of us make a pretty great team. Between us, we can speak 3 languages, and coordinate shower times and meal times with ease.
We went to find our hotel, Tirreno, which was not far from the station. It is a nice, 3-star hotel, with rooms, lobby, breakfast and wi-fi to match. It was a good home base for our daily excursions.
Among all the things we saw are the following: Piazza d'Espagna (the Spanish Embassy and Steps), the Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, the Roman Fora, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, the Vatican (more on that in a second), Piazza Navona, and a hundred Gelateria, or "Gelateria" in English.
Let's focus on something important. The Vatican. Headquarters of the Catholic Church, home of Pope Benedict XVI, and what I believe has the highest tax-free revenue per capita in the world. Here is a place millions of people visit each year. Many of them are simple tourists, but there is a significant number of people who make the pilgrimage out of faith. For this effort, the Holy See sees fit to charge people to get in, then to see something inside, then again to leave. If you want to take in the entire Vatican experience, even as a student, you should expect to pay a minimum of 45 Euros, and that's if you wait in line and don't take a guided tour. This leads to an important issue: Should the Roman Catholic Church have to pay taxes?
My answer is simple: Yes, yes they should.
With 1 1/2 days of Roman siteseeing out of the way, I went to visit more family, in the city itself this time. Zia Franca and cousin Mario welcomed me much in the same way my family in Sora did, and I had a very pleasant evening discussing my studies, my family, politics, and other things in what I thought was my best effort at Italian thus far.
Bidding adieu to my great aunt and cousin, I went back to the hotel to meet up with Angela to figure out our plan for the next day. As it turns out, we went to Circo Massimo, a few museums, and then enjoyed some late-night gelato by the colosseum.
Saturday morning I packed my bags, enjoyed a nice breakfast in the hotel and headed off to Florence. I didn't stop there though... but that post will have to come later. Buona Notte from Firenze, hope you all have a good weekend.
No Sorrow in Sora
All Aboooard! The Night Train!
I took the 18h00 train from Paris to Roma, hoping that this would provide a change of pace from the last two days. Well, it did.
After passing through Dijon, Lausanne, Firenze, and a few other places, I got to Rome, some 15 hours after leaving Paris. Feeling gross, I left the train and got on another train (cause, you know, why not?) to get to Frosinone, where my Italian family lives.
22 hours of train in 25 hours' time. Holy. Shit.
Fatigued, exhausted, and otherwise tired, I zombie-walked onto the platform where Zio Tonino and his trademark triangle-shaped beard were waiting for me.
"Ciao, Etienne, tu hai fame?"
And I knew I was home.
I quickly responded "Si" and we headed to the car. Tonino instructed his wife to prepare something for me. When I arrived in Campo Boario, I somehow managed to remember everything from 10 years earlier. The house, the cars (yeah, they were the same cars), the people, just about everything in its place. I was walked into the kitchen where my Great Aunt Zia Concetta and Great Uncle Zio Loretto were waiting. It's amazing how the language barrier disappears when people 3 generations apart try to communicate.
After a "modest" lunch of goat meat, prosciutto, peas and carrots, bread, cheese, an apple and probably a few other things, cousins Sandro and Roberta came by, mostly to tell me that they'd see me later that day for dinner. When they left I decided it would be best to wash up and get my things settled in my room. Good decision.
As soon as I finished unpacking, Tonino said "come, we're getting a new car" (but in Italian). I accompanied him to a warehouse somewhere (my family seems to be well-connected in their community) and we got his new car. After that I don't really remember much, except that night we had our big dinner (by the time we got to 4th dessert I was feeling a little full) and I saw all my Italian family. Well, almost. One of my cousins couldn't make it, and my Zio Pietrino eats his dinner with a much bigger family now...
After family dinner numero uno, I went to bed. Where I stayed, until noon the next day.
June 8th wasn't much of a day for me. I woke up feeling great, before remembering I was supposed to get up 5 hours prior to go walking in the mountain with Tonino. Oh well.
Instead, He, Maria Grazia and I went for a walk through the old city, which would be nice if not for the graffiti covering literally everything. A real shame, but what can you do? (If you said "shoot the kids", what are you doing this summer? we should hang out)
After the walk, we made our way back home, to start preparing dinner (surprise, surprise). We ate a feast of porchetta and all the toppings that go with it. Also, it was Zio Lorenzo's wedding anniversary, so we had a cake. An extra one that is, bringing the night's total to 3.
Afterwards, picture time! Unfortunately, cousin Francesca was not feeling well, so she and her husband did not join us. I saw them the next morning before leaving. Speaking of which...
I was disappointed to have to leave my family, but very much looked forward to seeing Rome for the first time in 10 years (and without my parents this time). I boarded my train and waved goodbye to Zio Tonino, Maria Grazia and the little town of Sora.
I took the 18h00 train from Paris to Roma, hoping that this would provide a change of pace from the last two days. Well, it did.
After passing through Dijon, Lausanne, Firenze, and a few other places, I got to Rome, some 15 hours after leaving Paris. Feeling gross, I left the train and got on another train (cause, you know, why not?) to get to Frosinone, where my Italian family lives.
22 hours of train in 25 hours' time. Holy. Shit.
Fatigued, exhausted, and otherwise tired, I zombie-walked onto the platform where Zio Tonino and his trademark triangle-shaped beard were waiting for me.
"Ciao, Etienne, tu hai fame?"
And I knew I was home.
I quickly responded "Si" and we headed to the car. Tonino instructed his wife to prepare something for me. When I arrived in Campo Boario, I somehow managed to remember everything from 10 years earlier. The house, the cars (yeah, they were the same cars), the people, just about everything in its place. I was walked into the kitchen where my Great Aunt Zia Concetta and Great Uncle Zio Loretto were waiting. It's amazing how the language barrier disappears when people 3 generations apart try to communicate.
After a "modest" lunch of goat meat, prosciutto, peas and carrots, bread, cheese, an apple and probably a few other things, cousins Sandro and Roberta came by, mostly to tell me that they'd see me later that day for dinner. When they left I decided it would be best to wash up and get my things settled in my room. Good decision.
As soon as I finished unpacking, Tonino said "come, we're getting a new car" (but in Italian). I accompanied him to a warehouse somewhere (my family seems to be well-connected in their community) and we got his new car. After that I don't really remember much, except that night we had our big dinner (by the time we got to 4th dessert I was feeling a little full) and I saw all my Italian family. Well, almost. One of my cousins couldn't make it, and my Zio Pietrino eats his dinner with a much bigger family now...
After family dinner numero uno, I went to bed. Where I stayed, until noon the next day.
June 8th wasn't much of a day for me. I woke up feeling great, before remembering I was supposed to get up 5 hours prior to go walking in the mountain with Tonino. Oh well.
Instead, He, Maria Grazia and I went for a walk through the old city, which would be nice if not for the graffiti covering literally everything. A real shame, but what can you do? (If you said "shoot the kids", what are you doing this summer? we should hang out)
After the walk, we made our way back home, to start preparing dinner (surprise, surprise). We ate a feast of porchetta and all the toppings that go with it. Also, it was Zio Lorenzo's wedding anniversary, so we had a cake. An extra one that is, bringing the night's total to 3.
Afterwards, picture time! Unfortunately, cousin Francesca was not feeling well, so she and her husband did not join us. I saw them the next morning before leaving. Speaking of which...
I was disappointed to have to leave my family, but very much looked forward to seeing Rome for the first time in 10 years (and without my parents this time). I boarded my train and waved goodbye to Zio Tonino, Maria Grazia and the little town of Sora.
Blessent Mon Coeur d'une Langueur Monotone
For those of you who don't know the significance of that phrase, that's ok. Let's focus on the first three words: Blessent mon coeur. Literally translated, "hurt my heart".
After taking a nice walk through Caen, I organized a taxi for the next morning, then enjoyed a good night's rest. D-Day, I went out to Juno Beach, the site of the Canadian Troops' invasion of Normandy in June 1944. The beach is between 11 and 14 km from my hotel and took a while to reach. When I got there, I paid my 60-Euro one way taxi fare (breaking my heart? or breaking the bank?). Then I walked on the beach, taking pictures of the new Juno Beach Centre, as well as the beautiful Normandy coast.
Upon entering the JBC, I was greeted with a pleasant "that will be E 6.50, please". I reluctantly paid (read: overpaid) and thought about nothing other than paying (through the nose) tribute to those who fought for our freedom. Something like this would not normally make me so bitter... except that Vimy Ridge, which is far more impressive and has a much more professional feel to it, is completely free. The War Museum at Lebreton Flats, which I believe still costs $8, is the best way to spend $8 in that city. The Juno Beach Centre is, at best, a childish representation of what our men went through.
Oh, and did I mention that this year only, they held the ceremony in the afternoon, one hour before my train left Caen for Paris? Suffice it to say, I didn't make it to the ceremony, and I wasn't happy.
Feeling overwhelmingly underwhelmed, I took the taxi back to Caen, dropping another 60 Euros in the process. To be fair, this time the guy offered to stop at the hotel, grab my luggage, and bring me to the train station at no extra charge. I suppose some clouds do have an off-silver lining.
The conclusion: Waste of time and money. Seeing the beach again was nice, and walking along the shores of the Atlantic was somehow very calming, but if I had to do it all again, knowing what I know now, I'd skip Caen and go straight to Rome from Reims. I would save about 200 Euros if I did.
I won't let my minor inconvenience get in the way of posting some pictures though. Enjoy these pictures of Caen and Juno Beach. I will post about Rome shortly.
*Note*: My internet here won't let me upload pics, I'll put them up here and on Facebook when I can... Til then, text only.
After taking a nice walk through Caen, I organized a taxi for the next morning, then enjoyed a good night's rest. D-Day, I went out to Juno Beach, the site of the Canadian Troops' invasion of Normandy in June 1944. The beach is between 11 and 14 km from my hotel and took a while to reach. When I got there, I paid my 60-Euro one way taxi fare (breaking my heart? or breaking the bank?). Then I walked on the beach, taking pictures of the new Juno Beach Centre, as well as the beautiful Normandy coast.
Upon entering the JBC, I was greeted with a pleasant "that will be E 6.50, please". I reluctantly paid (read: overpaid) and thought about nothing other than paying (through the nose) tribute to those who fought for our freedom. Something like this would not normally make me so bitter... except that Vimy Ridge, which is far more impressive and has a much more professional feel to it, is completely free. The War Museum at Lebreton Flats, which I believe still costs $8, is the best way to spend $8 in that city. The Juno Beach Centre is, at best, a childish representation of what our men went through.
Oh, and did I mention that this year only, they held the ceremony in the afternoon, one hour before my train left Caen for Paris? Suffice it to say, I didn't make it to the ceremony, and I wasn't happy.
Feeling overwhelmingly underwhelmed, I took the taxi back to Caen, dropping another 60 Euros in the process. To be fair, this time the guy offered to stop at the hotel, grab my luggage, and bring me to the train station at no extra charge. I suppose some clouds do have an off-silver lining.
The conclusion: Waste of time and money. Seeing the beach again was nice, and walking along the shores of the Atlantic was somehow very calming, but if I had to do it all again, knowing what I know now, I'd skip Caen and go straight to Rome from Reims. I would save about 200 Euros if I did.
I won't let my minor inconvenience get in the way of posting some pictures though. Enjoy these pictures of Caen and Juno Beach. I will post about Rome shortly.
*Note*: My internet here won't let me upload pics, I'll put them up here and on Facebook when I can... Til then, text only.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Lest We Forget: The beginning of the end
Good Afternoon,
As I sit here in my hotel in the small town of Caen, Normandie, France, a few things come to mind:
Firstly, their free internet is better than mine.
Secondly, it is freaking hot out, and for some reason I wore long pants and brought a coat with me. Idiot.
Most importantly, however, are the few days ahead. I have embarked on the final journey of this 9 1/2 month adventure in Europe. Getting around on train/metro/metro/train through Paris was as much a pain as every other time. This hotel room is signifcantly smaller than my room in Reims. I have to leave the bathroom door open for anything that requires a sink or toilet to do. The town is fairly grey, but then again I've only seen the route between the train station and the hotel.
Tomorrow morning will be the D-Day ceremony at Juno Beach. I will then head to Rome that night to visit family and a few things I haven't yet seen in Italy. I am hoping this really lives up to my expectations, as this is literally the trip to end all trips for me. And what better way to remember this great time I've spent in France than by remembering those who gave us the freedom to enjoy it.
Their Name Liveth For Evermore.
I wish you all a good weekend.
As I sit here in my hotel in the small town of Caen, Normandie, France, a few things come to mind:
Firstly, their free internet is better than mine.
Secondly, it is freaking hot out, and for some reason I wore long pants and brought a coat with me. Idiot.
Most importantly, however, are the few days ahead. I have embarked on the final journey of this 9 1/2 month adventure in Europe. Getting around on train/metro/metro/train through Paris was as much a pain as every other time. This hotel room is signifcantly smaller than my room in Reims. I have to leave the bathroom door open for anything that requires a sink or toilet to do. The town is fairly grey, but then again I've only seen the route between the train station and the hotel.
Tomorrow morning will be the D-Day ceremony at Juno Beach. I will then head to Rome that night to visit family and a few things I haven't yet seen in Italy. I am hoping this really lives up to my expectations, as this is literally the trip to end all trips for me. And what better way to remember this great time I've spent in France than by remembering those who gave us the freedom to enjoy it.
Their Name Liveth For Evermore.
I wish you all a good weekend.
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