Trains, Planes, Danes, and Automobiles

Today felt more like a day of travel than my flights getting to Paris, where all three legs of my journey went swimmingly. Seriously though, I can hardly get from Spokane to Seattle without at least getting searched or something funky going down. Spokane to seattle= perfect; even my bags came out almost first. Seattle to Iceland= early landing, met a friend, and had free tv and movies the whole 6 hour flight. My gate was so easy to find I felt like I needed to get lost on purpose. Iceland to Paris= same free movies to stay entertained and a window seat. Even with getting in early and having to wait for Christy and Marc wasn't a downfall because I got to stretch mt legs and learn some of the language off of the signs. I started to compose myself for my orientation day that was purposely scheduled so as to keep me awake and get my body acclimated quicker.

With this and my first day alone navigating Paris under my belt, I felt mildly confident in Christy putting me on the train to CDG and having to figuring out the rest on my own. Though I did speak to several people, it was only ever for clarification and past that I always knew where I was going, how to get there, and how quickly I'd need to run to make my train... right up until the end at least

Because of my first flight running a little behind, I missed both of Tara's suggested trains that would allow her to meet me at the station. Thank the Lord that these Germanic countries almost all know English as a second language- Americans are freaking spoiled- because everyone knew where to direct me. I took a train from the airport to Copenhagen central then switched to a train that would take me right out to Vordingborg.

After keeping track of my hour and a half time to be on the train I started to get nervous so I asked the woman sitting across from me which stop ahead was Vordingborg, worried I was going the wrong direction. She said the next stop; well the next stop came but didn'y indicate anything having to do with Vordingborg, Now I'm concerned that the stop doesn't read Vordingborg exactly but another town that is right next to it. I ask an older gentleman. He also says the next stop. I wait and the next stop was definitely not mine. Now I'm starting to hyperventilate. The stop after that STILL wasn't mine. I'm a puddle by now desperately clinging to the boots of bright hair dyed Danes seeking someone with an extra spine. FINALLY.FINALLY, I'm pacing next to the doors and I hear in the thick Danish accent the word Vordingborg.

*sigh of relief*

Now to find the gym..... Walking.... In a strange town in Denmark... Where I can't read the signs...

So what do I do? I follow this spunky, young-ish looking, dyed red head girl. When I tap her on the shoulder she looking at me with what I assume to be fright for some strange hulking American girl asking her for direction to the college. She composed herself and said she can point me in the direction I need to go but first offers to help me get out of the station. Once on the other side of the ticket window she proceeds to turn in circles before admitting she can't be positive of which GENERAL direction the gym is and berating herself that she should know seeing as how she starts classes there next year.

I thank her anyways and turn to go into the 7/11 Tara had mentioned as a meeting place or a center for direction. The lady behind the counter spoke English, looked at the address Tara gave me and instructed me to go up the main road, take a right on the first street and keep walking....

... Ten minutes later having turned and walked a Danish block I was already questioning the 7/11 lady's wise advice, so I'm flagging down a car passing on my left with an elderly-ish couple in the front seats. I ask again as to the location of the college and gym. They inform me their son goes there, I'm walking in EXACTLY the WRONG direction and they were capable and willing to transport me there.

Since I flagged THEM down, I doubt they had any sinister plot in mind and accepted the gracious hospitality that I had already come to know as a trademark of the country Danish people. We spoke during our brief trip about where I was coming from, why I was here, and that though it seemed contradictory since THEY offered ME the ride, that it probably wasn't in my best interest to a accept rides from perfect strangers in a foreign country... Thanks perfect strangers who's car the foreigner is already in... But they truly were a kind couple, the woman exceedingly so.

My journey ended succinctly and early at said gym where I had a ticket waiting with my name from two ladies who apparently has not only heard all about me, but who seemed to know me well themselves. On the back of the card Tara left a note saying, "Hope the walk was ok. So Happy you are here!!!"

Buah hahaha the walk was short lived but gorgeous none the less. I now know the exact color I would paint my house if I had one!

The game was intense, mildly frustrating, horribly reffed and unfortunately lost, but since there in playoff it's best of 5 so its not the end of the road.

After the game I went in a little car named Donald with four other fairly large (tall) volleyball girls where I was welcomed into Tara and Sage's apartment with a blanket fort room sectioning off part off their living/ dining room just for me!!! Queen sized double air mattress ready and made. 

The night was wonderful. We stayed up late talking, venting, drinking wine and enjoying each others company along with two other teammate that live one house over, and one of their boyfriends. Tara taught me a phrase they use in Danish to express the enjoyment of an evening the next time they see those friends, as a reminder. For the sake of willing readers of all this nonsence I'll roughly spell it how it sounds sans guttural inflections:

Tak for sist!

Blisters the Size of Euros

WARNING FOR THOSE OF YOU EITHER FAINT OF HEART OR WITH EASY SYMPATHY PAINS.... THERE IS A GROTESQUE/ GRAPHIC PHOTO OF A MILD WOUND AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POST. PLEASE DO NOT VIEW IF YOU EASILY HARF.

After walking for a day in the shoes I brought to play in, I realized something- I need a new pair of athletic shoes! It was between these and a pair of runners that rub my Achilles tendon raw every time I run without crew socks. But being in possibly the most beautiful city in the world, I now have a new appreciation for the concept- love is pain. I love volleyball so despite my handicap, I played.

I literally cut off a blister on the inside of my pinky toe that was equivalent to the size of the more appropriate euro. After bandaging them, I played again that night with Christy's team she plays on and it dawned on me... I could play overseas. The only sienna would be finding a job cause I definitely wouldn't get paid. That's not that I don't think I'm good enough to get paid but the reality is- a lot of teams don't have money to pay American to play over here unless they are one of the national 1 or 2 teams. Though talent-wise I think several of my club players could play over here already.

Either way, on this day I walked into Paris unaccompanied. Christy gave me direct intructions on how to get where I was going. Day three and I had Paris all to myself. And their underground metro system, of which I spent a half an hour navigating both from and to Gare de Lyon. But, as the independent woman I am, I made my destinations on my own and with foolish pride.

I was headed to Jardin du Luxembourg for a day of sun and just-blooming apple blossoms. The garden was vast and intricate. Flowers had been planted and statues were stained green with age. I actually pulled up a chair against a tree near a fountain and took a nap bathed in the Parisian sun.

Eventually I decided it was time to continue my journey and truly test my navigational skills. This idea was fairly ridiculous considering I didn't have an ending destination. I finally decided to try my luck at the metro again and get myself and my desperate need for a restroom to Notre Dame where Christy had coached me on their free public toilette. From here I studied the surrounding architecture that is still incomprehensible to me and walked the tire spoked bridges. 

At this point my wandering took me past used book stands, several failed attempts at finding a Starbucks and their infamous wireless and public restrooms, and... Hotel de Ville. The square in front of the hotel was HUGE. The hotel itself was huge, but in general I cease to be amazed and the architecture of these buildings. I sat on the ground and started setting up my tripod for a self-timed photo when I recognized English close behind me. I jumped at the opportunity and asked to vacationing American girls to take the photo for me instead... unfortunately their timing was not quite to my expertise so the closest we got was either pre- or post- jump. But I enjoyed them trying and I think they had fun with the idea

My day ended getting to Christy and Marc's early, falling asleep while reading, missing Christy's 12 year olds but paining myself through her practice and coming 'home' to Marc's delicious home cooking. All-in-all a very happy, joyful, wonderful, good day.



WARNING.......PHOTO BELOW IS VOMIT INDUCING....................................
Following posts take you with me to Denmark!

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Day Two Who Knew

Even now after day two I feel like I belong here. I don't get blown away by things, I love seeing these beautiful monuments and castle buildings and Cathedrals and listening to Christy spout history for me. I enjoy trying to speak French [having never learned any intentionally to date] to people I'm ordering food from, just walking down random streets, and for the most part acting like I belong here.

Our day was mostly covered on my first day tour so all the things Christy had planned for me, we had already done or seen so today was very casual. Intending to get up at 9 we didn't leave Melun until I think the 11:15 train. Our first stop was El' Opera Garnier. The opera house that The Phantom of the Opera was based off of. Since going inside is fairly expensive, we did our own outside tour and went into the gift shop that sold good ol' ballet clothes and shoes.

This is the time where I seem to get hungry so we grabbed some baguettes and eclairs and went to eat our spoils on the steps of Place de la Madeleine, which apparently is something every Parisian does. After our lunch of completely non-tourist proportions we meandered through the Tuileries garden where they had the old school wood boats with these patchwork sails and sticks to push them with and several little kids running around the circular fountain chasing their respective boats

Toward the end of the garden Christy and I noticed a man sitting on the bench fully decked out in kilt wear. There was no question- I needed a picture with this man. He, shockingly, wasn't Scottish, but English and guessed that we were Canadian, which I'm not complaining about. However, we would pose for the photo- he just kept talking to me... so Christy snapped a few shots anyways. When I asked why he was wearing a kilt he said he thought that the other Englishmen who wore trousers were a bunch of... I can't remember the word right now, but it was very British.

One of the things I've enjoyed most is the train ride between Melun and Paris- I love all the old brick housing and minimal three stories with random mansion-like homes that I get to see along the way. The ride is very comforting; I don't have to think about getting up and down or on and off, I can journal, write postcard, actually see the pictures I taken and just all around relax as the Parisian suburbs float by.

Paris Dumpster

Taking after my dear Mama bear- Betsy. I had a great find on my first day in Paris. After getting drug [literally] into my first view of the Eiffel tower, Christy and I snagged some baguette hot dogs and ate our lunch -from a vender who's cappuccino tasted like alcohol. While enjoying this surreal mmomemt we watched silly Asian people pose for your everyday photos.

In the process of leaving I went to throw my napkins and unfinished coffee into a green dumpster a few feet from us. As I tossed in the cup, I noticed a wood framed chalk board with 'Save the Date' written on it that my leftover coffee splashed a bit on. I froze. Now I know that reaching into dumpsters is never a classy thing to do especially in Paris right next to the Eiffel tower, but I'm also of the mindset of 'Don't Waste a Thing' that goes to include: food, talent, clothes, unbroken but old items, efforts, time, and now apparently extends to anything in Parisian dumpsters. So I lifted the lid again. Christy at this point is asking, "What? What is it?" As it so happened- there were TWO!!! The date of the second was 19-Jan-13.. or for those not checking dates in Paris- Jan 19th 2013. While Christy questioned her sanity for taking me in at this point, I grabbed them both, stuck them under my arm and walked away.

For those questioning my sanity right now too- the dumpster was near empty and they were basically placed inside actually leaning against the side untouched with the exception of my own coffee. I also happened to not buy a single thing other than food and train tickets that day soooo SCORE!!!

From there Christy took me on a whirlwind sight seeing tour of, Sacre Coeur, where I almost puked, we drank the life, or more appropriate- stomach saving... Shwepps, we met the man who could jump through walls,  saw Notre Dame^see above photo which is by far the most favorite place I saw, found a Starbucks with both a bathroom AND wireless, wandered outside at the Louvre at night watched the Eiffel tower 'glitter' and after a very amusing train ride to Melun, finally made it to Christy and Marc's loft/attic/apartment home, where Marc had brought my stuff from my pickup outside the airport to and had dinner ready for us.

No way to explain how excited I am to be here with Christy... and Marc. I love the beauty, love my friends and can't wait to see what's on the agenda for tomorrow!

The Start of this Saga

Flight from spokane was anticlimactic but there WAS a lady two rows ahead of me reading her kindle with print so large I could read it too. Being the English major that I am I, of course, started reading over her shoulder. Suddenly the text got very... Detailed? So suddenly this respectable woman starts to fidget and pulls the front cover of her kindle case so far over it's almost SHUT! Needless to say- I didn't get to figure out the plot...
Lunch with my dear friend Marni was a blessing even if half an hour typing at the library was wasted when I got kicked off for no stinking reason. Next post I will no longer be in this country!!!!

Catching Up

It's been a while... close to a year... since my last post or at least what my last post was about [though I posted it months after said adventure] And although I have a ridiculous amount of updating to do, I'm going to hold off in lu of making a video seeing as how typing it all will be monotonous after already writing it all out.

Highlights reel skipping over a very long summer, fall and winter:

• Moved back home after an unforgettable senior year of basketball and school at Northwest University.
  

• I worked 12 straight camps this summer for NBC- only God could've gotten me through like he did. I only got sick once, back spasm-ed once, played hoopfest in between and made 1 out of 8 weddings, and only dropped a dangerous 20 lbs in about two weeks.
• Spent a very short amount of time actually enjoying a normal, relaxing summer.
• My 10 yr old sister taught me to crochet while we watched 8 seasons on NCIS in a couple weeks.
• Floated the river with my sister.

• Visited my bestie/panda Nikki doing what we do best- acting 5 years old together.
• My beloved great aunt Dottie passed away. I was trying on our family is all manners
• Finally met my OTHER cousin on my dad's side Cole- melting my heart with a single syllable-swish!
  
  

• Started EWU-turning into a years worth of wasted time.
• I helped out a bit with my old high school's volleyball and basketball teams while reading both academically and for pleasure around 17 novels.
  

• Trick-or-treated at age 22 as a Halloween Hooligan.... by myself.
• Now I'm in winter quarter and helping out with track and field. I'm coaching U16 and U18 club volleyball teams.

• My best friend is engaged and getting married March 17th and with my loan coming through I'm leaving to visit a wonderful friend in Paris [Christy]the next day.
• For valentine's day [which I'm in utter disagreement with] my dad got me a Jane Austen Devotional, which I'm now devouring.
• My inter trip trip will take me from Paris to Copenhagen [to visit Tara] to Frankfurt [Erica it's been too many years] back to Paris. And on top of finally traveling overseas for the first time, NBC asked me to coach and accompany a tour team to England in July, where I get to coach with my senior year coach Lori Napier!!!!
• God had blessed me immensely this year, I struggle, and learn and grow and basically love my life. I complain too much but under all my whining, I'm truly happy and looking forward to what this time in my life will teach me in preparation for what God has planned for me.
• I'm hoping to be graduated this spring with my B.A. in English Literature and looking for job opportunities.

• In the meanwhile, I'm crocheting headbands for sale, making jewelry, offering individual workouts, running clocks, coaching, babysitting, and in general trying to make money any way I can to supplement my insatiable need to travel, while prepping for a wedding and finishing school.

Now that we're up to date, my plan is to keep this updated weekly until I leave in which case I will use this as an online journal/ letter documenting my journey to my mom so she doesn't freak out while I'm out of country and without phone. 

Get ready for a visual smorgasbord for my next update, where I plan to delight you with photos, videos, maps and hilarious diagrams all for the sake of information and entertainment.