Back in Paris

After an almost week long vacation from Paris, I arrived to meet my new 'roommate'. A wonderful girl named Tanya Bekendam. I had been foretold I would bond with her and following this intro, you'll soon find out why I have yet another friend to keep in touch with[Tanya- if you're reading, this is my only warning and threat- I will keep you as a friend till the day I die, which looking at my ability to find myself in disastrous situation means long before you do]... and on that happy note....

..... I was warning not long before my return that today would be our day for dresses- which I didn't have so Christy gracious dug through my traveling closet to find the SINGLE dress I brought... and several other 'necessaries'. I quickly met Tanya with the faith that I would love her as much as Christy said I would, and went to change[paying included and that particular train station] Once dressed, I realized I'd be packing my bag around with me today since we wouldn't return 'home' until that evening. Along with my 'walking legs' I built some luggage arms.

We then proceeded to Angelina's [contented sigh] the beautiful tea room with hot cocoa like a melted hershey's bar, only better, and french toast that was more of a fried [not heavily though] thick bread. My mouth waters just remembering it [since then I've also tried to replicate the cocoa with little to no success]

From here we crossed some streets, gardens, and bridges until we arrived and the questionable Paris sewer tour.... However informative it may have been, it reeked- because the actual running sewer was just below our feet, wafting upward to our noses. And yes, there were times we could see it too [HARF!!!]

        

After leaving the bizarre underground tour that no city should really have, we made our way back to Mulan where Tanya and I were put in charge of making sure we had any special toppings we'd need for our special dinner night. Christy left for practice and Tanya and I left to navigate to the local supermart. We snagged what we needed and hit the streets to enjoy the sun, and aparently a picturesque walk along the river and some gangsta artwork.

From here, what did we do, what any other American probably comes to Europe for- shopping! So our shopping was more inadvertent [I was determined to find a leather jacket that was never to be]. We didn't find exactly what we were looking for, but we did find a beautiful church [as if there is any other kind over here]. This one had a more contemporary/ modern twist to it...

To my utter dismay, shortly after exiting the holy sanctuary, I saw a rack of dresses that were so floppy looking that one just might fit me, ok more than might, I was ready to pull out some Euros. I meandered inside holding my find praying I might find a jacket as well. My luck had stopped drastically short. Not only was there no such jacket, the proprietor gave me the once over, actually TOOK the hangers from my hands and said something akin to, "Not your size here; these [holding up the dress that could probably fit TWO of me] not your size." Appalled and stunned that I was rejected from even trying the clothes on, I stumbled out half insulted half in hysterics at what just happened. Welcome to the general French attitude.

On our way back we were going to stop at this familial restaurant that only carries food until it's order gone. We happened to circle the place several times before we realized what restaurant it was. Through a bit of trouble, we figured out that we would need to be finding our meal elsewhere and found some delicious food while hoofin' it back. Along this journey I finally realized why I have so much trouble navigating with a map- I could never seem to find the street signs...... turns out this was the exact sign when Tanya connected me to the fact that the signs were on the BUILDINGS.

All the lugging and dragging was worth everything that night when I got to make my families 'famous' big pancakes[crepes] to a smorgasbord of fillings that would've made my mouth water individually

 

Stained Glass Travelers

My two days with Erica were spent shopping in Heidelberg and partaking of a very German pastime. I got to see the crumbling castle grounds and the old bridge that I have no idea the significance of, but there was a monkey statue I got to stick my head in.

But before we hit the 'street' I ran into a Starbucks *gasp* because I was needing coffee and if there's one thing I'll even appreciate about Europe is that for some inexplicable reason, their coffee is WAYWAYWAY better than any Starbucks in the US. The shops also look like mini royal palaces. On the down side I waited almost 20 minutes for a drip Pike's Place Roast coffee. The very cute German barista gave me free flavor though for the wait.

The streets were beautiful, though I was well aware this was a tourist area and a historic district so I understood that many of the shops were purposely made to look like old-timey stereotypical German shops. I didn't much mind- I was too busy enjoying the spring and the sunsets We had a great time at an Irish pub with Internet and the most delicious vegetarian pastas dish EVER!!!... and I got a free backpackers catalog that will be epic for collages, which I fully intend on doing after seeing Tara's 'ADVENTURE' sign in her blanket fort.

 

I found some great sales, for Europe, and even the classic cougar huskie rivalry made its way overseas. In this store called Mustang there was a wall of hats, scarves, and gloves all for 3 euros, which is basically 4 dollars. And there, on that wall, were matching hats and gloves that were either crimson and gray or purple and 'gold'. I freaked!....and then I bought the gloves.....but unfortunately didn't think to get the picture- I was remiss.

My last day there, Erica took me up to the castle where we toured the grounds without going inside because frankly most everywhere costs to get into and it's usually it's not worth it.

On a serious note- I really don't like museums. You're stuck inside, looking at things that you can find in most history books. Yeah, originals are cool, but there's not anything really that different. It's smaller/ bigger/ lighter/ darker than I thought. But usually it's just the same. Unless you're really into art and the techniques or colors or styles or something, then it's mostly a waste of money and time. Mostly money where you pay to simply LOOK at something. I have the same issue/ opinion of paying for national parks or anything that in reality should be free, especially for those in 'the land of the free'

The only thing free here were the ground and the hysterical laughter I had to suppress at seeing a couple walking their dogs.... that had ponytails!

However, this one was kinda sweet because it was all crumbly-like and reminded me of Jane Eyre after Rochester's estate went up in flames- I even think I recall that being the reason for the renovations, that there was a fire!

Anywho, my trip back into Paris was as much the same as all the others but this time a couple kicked me out of my NON-reserved seats halfway into the three hour ride. Did I mention I was dead asleep sprawled across the table in front of me practically drooling? Oh, I didn't? Well I WAS!!!

One thing that I loved about all my traveling is not only all the people I got to see, but all the random people I met. Even those that I only conversed with for a second were kind. If you start off smiling them they'll normally end smiling also. It's like the stained glass that is so popularly used in the cathedrals around the world- each piece is separate and unique, carefully crafted so that when all those tiny separate piece are put together that is a magnificent picture grander than any one piece alone could make. Every piece is needed, every piece is important, every piece contribute to the larger picture. I know that I'm not only the piece but also the picture. Each person I've met or know is a integral part of my stained glass that when the light shines through and I can see the whole picture, each piece castes its light of different and varied hues and shades to allow me to revel in its beauty that is my life. I continue to be grateful for the way God has blessed my me.

Americans in Denmark

My last day with Tara brought us to Holstehal for their second of their best of five playoff games against this all Danish team. We lounged a bit in the morning, watching the eerie fog retreat through their diarrhea forest, which is what the name for it translates to in English, then we put ourselves into go mode, stuffed all our bags into Donald and like a baby, we head out.

Two Minutes down the road and I was already missing my fort room. We made our way into Copenhagen none the less and met with the rest of the team for lunch and a beach park where apparently there is no fence to distinguish the regular side of the beach from the nude side. There were volleyball nets though.

While we were milling about, Tara and I had decided to ask the Danish girls about my 2:18 train out of Copenhagen when the European daylight savings was at two, thereby causing me to attempt catching a train that would never be. Their coach ended up calling the station and found my train had been changed to 3 AM or what would previously be 2. The American girls Tara shares the car with were very gracious about having to take me to the train station at 1 in the morning, especially considering they would still have an hour drive to get home after- to Schnake, Noelle, and Sage- I can't thank you girls enough for your warmth and hospitality- it was truly a great trip for me. I won't forget you anytime soon.

Well, we got to the gym that smelled like it had just been painted and I watched a poorly coach volleyball game. The mood after the loss wasn't very uplifting but there was another American's birthday to go to in Copenhagen, which helped give us something to do while waiting for my train.

I was surprised by how many American are in Denmark alone. Several of whom I was connected to in amusingly distant ways. It was a great party but also daunting after a not so great game.

We left sometime around 1230. And I made my train with the right time only to realize it wasn't a straight shot where I could sleep the whole way through, no I stopped about every two hours and had anywhere from 5 minutes to and hour and a half in between catching trains. Where I usually found either something to eat, something to look at, or somewhere to corner up and sleep.

One great thing about Europe is getting to know other peoples stories and connecting with friends world wide. I made friends with Sarah on the plane and if I'm remembering right- Christine [below] who I shared beautiful music with.

Then came my very American moment on the next leg of my journey where I got kicked out of a first class compartment and shluffed into what I like to call the 'Cargo Class' Here is where I was sandwiched between the window and the mother/ wife of the family of three with their 5 year old son- ok he was cute, but I was trying to crash and I didn't think it polite to sprawl across the table we shared.

I felt that after that trip I can handle traveling just about anywhere in the world now. So much so, I got into Frankfurt and had to buy yet another ticket to Leimen where I was thankfully picked up and saved from having to navigate to the gym.

Erica's last game ended in a loss. But the dinner afterward with her past and present teammates was mouthwatering...Baked potato with spinach and this cream sauce with baked cheese over the top. If nothin else I leave Europe with great cooking ideas, phenomenal walking legs, and an intimate knowledge of inner and outer city travel.

Chalk, Crack, and Fog

Waking up in Praesto was like waking up from the perfect dream. The night before was so much fun, and to wake up surrounded by blankets- literally, except this one window that had been decorated with beautiful green wine bottles and a magazine collage and the sun was trickling through the surrounding forest encasing me. It was a perfect moment. But there was a day of adventure ahead so it was no time to lollygag around, no matter how comfortable the double blow-up mattress was.

For my first full day in Vordingborg Tara and her teammate Schnake took me to Mons Klint and the island's chalk cliffs with it's 497 steps down to sea level of the Baltic. The day was perfect and sunny and the hour drive was filled with chatter and laughter. I didn't care what we did at this point- I was already loving Denmark.

During a quick stop for gas I also learned that the dollar/ Danish king krone conversion is easiest when you divide the DKK price by 5. This made more sense when seeing shirts for 200 DKK.

Once we got to the cliffs I wasn't sure what I wanted to look at more- the massive, glaring white chalk cliffs, the near undisturbed Baltic Sea, or scavenge the beach for chalk pieces and shards of natural glass that would sometimes be formed into fossil prints.

    

In between walking, tanning, breaking for lunch, and picking up random objects, we did a little photo shoot. I also decided to scale a chalk cliff. In theory this was a great idea, considering I didn't actually expect to get that far, but since the moisture of the sea mixed with the chalk...dust?... it basically was a hill of more like a dry-ish clay consistency. However, once I was up, I realized how far I got because of how steep it was and because of the whole center of gravity thing while climbing forward and the not wanting to lean forward and tumble down the crumbling cliff thing, the only way I was getting down was by scooting down on my butt. Apparently the chalk/ clayish mixture when packed down and smoothed out make a formidable slide, which I so learned in accumulating a nice layer of it on my backside. Whatever- it was fun!

Our time on the ocean ended with that lovely German lady sharing her beach combing finds, another couple's gorgeous yellow lab chasing chalk chunks, swans, hummingbird sized bees, color accenting our outrageously accented personalities, climbing a tree, being chased by fog and hiking back up the 497 steps that originally took us down seaside, and three words that made me the funniest person ever.

The first moment was when I started using the chalk pieces to re-whiten my shoes that had picked up a few stains. Through commentary with Schnaki and Tara and proving that this method was working, I used that awesomely pathetic pun, "I'm just CHALK full of ideas!" This guaranteed a mildly amused giggle from both girls. Shortly thereafter, Tara and Schnaki was cracking each others back using their own hilarious puns so I threw in my own, "You two CRACK me up." Both of these retorts were followed with the classic knee-slapper but they were still funny in their own right. At this point we were all fairly amused at the terrible puns, mostly because they were terrible, but that is half the fin of them. Until... and we're all still a bit FOGGING on the last pun, but I'm pretty sure it was during the fog chasing sequence, where we finally reached the top- out of breathe... at least on my part- and I was feeling a little lighted headed after the climb where I aptly applied, "I'm feeling a bit FOGGY!" BUAHhahahahahaha (insert more knee-slapping here).

In a quick succession of events, we stopped in one of the mile long towns to look at the stores and grab some snacks. I also bought my Danish souvenir of yarn [shocking-I know] in bright orange, in an attempt to find a similar color to that of the many farm houses was passed.

We returned home in time for the girls to head to volleyball practice, while I wiled away my time back at the apartment. Later in the afternoon I took a very chilly walk down the trail through the woods to enjoy the sunset. And once the girls were back, enjoyed Sage's entertainment with all the things she could use the head massager for.

   

In ending the perfect day, Tara, myself and a couple more teammates went out to dinner at a local cafe- which is not at all like our cafes- and after the most delicious salad I've ever had, went to walk out on the pier... in the dark... with no one else around...

While documenting with some of the coolest shots I've taken in a  long time, Tara and I were left to walk back by ourselves. We were joking around about how this scenario is how horror movies start; with two unassuming girls laughing, right before a walrus jumps out of the water to break the dock and eat us alive... when suddenly we heard this load splashing in the water under the dock, where we had just walked from. Needless to say, we freaked out a bit. We quickly, but as carefully as possible in the dark made our way off the dock, onto the pier and back to the solid land where the car and her teammates were waiting.

We couldn't perfectly describe the sound, but I'd say it was a cross between a bird beating the water with its wings, a fish fin hitting water before diving back underneath, and some nefarious creature lurking underneath, about to strike. But it was still a pretty good day, regardless.

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!