I finally arrived in Athens. This was a nice change of pace. The hostel made a big difference. It was the kind of place that sets up activities for you and has a bar in the hostel. These two things combine to make it easy to meet to people. I dont mean to sound like a bummer and perhaps it is my fault since I decided to let the last 10 days of my trip pile up as far a writing goes. And maybe I will come back soon and edit this entry but I am tired and I dont want to write any more. Athens was awsome. I went on a day trip to Nafpoli, went bungee jumping, saw the acropolis, went to thesseloniki wandered the city took a day trip to a beach town and joined in the marketplace to pick up a few gifts. Then I flew back to Germany. While revisions are in question, I will write a synopsis of my trip soon enough, as soon as my head stops spinning.

I had to catch a ferry to greece so I traveled to mainland italy and spent the day in Bari. The only problem was that Russian president Vladimir Putin decided to do the same. Everywhere I tried to go, guess what, it was closed so taht Putin could visit it privately.

Even before I knew Putin was there, it was very clear that someone important was putting the city on lock down. It was reminiscent of when Bush came to Vienna.

So with no sights open to see, I decided to stick with the crowds and tried to get a glimpse of Putin. I was sucessful in getting abou 15 feet from him as he entered the Basilica of Saint iforget. Even more exciting I was pulled aside by the secret service type people in charge of the even, and they searched my portable library of tourist, novel, faith, and economics books. I guess I looked suspicious with a silly beard and brown eyes.

I boarded my 20 hour ferry in the evening. It seemed more like a cruise ship. It had several restaurants, a store, bar, disco, deck, pool, and sleeping rooms but as a eurailpass holder I had the choice of sleeping on the floor or in a chair. Although I have been perfecting the art of sleeping upright I chose to sleep on the floor. So the ferrie was a great experience and I would have taken it back to Italy if I had more time.

On to Sicily. Noone was there.

I meant to meet up with friends but as things unfolded, the time to meet up with them would only be a day, so I decided to do my own thing. This part of the trip will be refered to as the contemplative period. During the contemplative period, no tourist are in sicily. I had a 12 bedroom dorm all to my self. During the contemplative period no Sicilians speak english. Actually, scratch that, Sicilians never speak english, I have become to familiar with German society. During the contemplative period, only half the stores and restaurants are open and when open they are open half the time. During the contemplative period, one should contemplate. So I did.

I contemplated at dinner, I contemplated on the beach, I contemplated in the streets. I contemplated ontop of mountains with beads of rain pouring from the once innocent looking clouds.

I did get a break from my contemplations though. I met a jobless traveler early on my last day in Sicily. His name was Mauricio. And although neither of us could speak the others language, we could communicate enough to spend the whole day together on the beach. It was nice because I could ask him questions about Sicily using our common vocab (Sicilia, America, Italy, to have, to be, etc...) and hand signals and was able to get an interesting perspective about this island I had spent 4 days on. Ask me about it. I dont want to type any more.

Another overnight train and I was in Pisa and desperate for a shower since I had not been naken in 3 days. Our hotel was about 2 km from the city center of Pisa. and they gave us bikes to use for the day which proved to be quiet useful since the leaning tower and Duomo area was about the only sight to see. Because we had the bikes, we were able to swing by a couple smaller sights that migh tnot have been worth the worlk and then wee took some of the trail in the countryside.

The next day we went to florence or at least tried. I tprove rather difficutl since som epart of the Italian railway compayny was on strik. So we eventually made itthger and did the normal tourist thing. I had a blast but it really mad e me think of Ab. I suppose martin gto tired of me talking about it. "Oh, and that is wher we sat, and that is wher we had dinner one time. and on time in this Piazza...." You get the picture. Nevertheless, Martin didn't complain and probably even pretended to be interested.
We made a daytrip the following day to a small italian hilltown, surrounded by green vineyards and marked by medievaal towers. The main attraction ther was strolling through the streets that frame views of the Tuscan landscape, however we for some strang reason decided to go into a torture museum. While it wasn't boring, it was depressing and painful for your brain. Torture museum, Not recommended; buying cheese, bread, wine and eating it on the park ontop of the city, Recommended.

The description of my time with Martin would not be complete without an accurate description of Martin. Martin asked me what was my favorite country I have visited, I said Italy. I returned the question. He said America. While there are probably many people who think that, no one has told me that yet. But perhaps I should have expected it. Martin wears Cowboy boots with Jeans and a t-shirt. Martin is a business major who believe strongly in free market economics and its implications. When we went into a supermarket, I bought a bought Beck's, my favorite German beer, Martin bought Budweiser. Another first. But of all my favorite things about Martin, this one tops them all. When you speak with a foreign fluent english speaker, the topic of accents always comes up. I said I really like South African Accents. Martin then proceeded me to ask if I knew who Larry the Cable Guy was? Yes, Of course, the Blue Collar Comedy Tour...Well, I like the sound of that accent. Suprise, is an accurate word to describe my bittersweet joy and humor. Martin is one of a kind. But in all seriousness, Martin and I had a great time and I wish we could have traveled together longer.

I left my friends in Granda to meet another friend in Pisa. I made a short stop in Barcelona, I guess you could call it a 14 hour layover. I saw Picassos's collection of paintings, Gaudi's work in progress Cathedral, and had my hair cut by someone who didnt speak english. Barcelona is big, I was not really there.

I arrived in Granada alone since my frinds rented a car. I roured the city by tfoot an dwa quie tired by the end of the day as it is a very hilly city. In the evening I met up with friends and went out for Tapas. The city was very interesting. There was a great deal of Arabic influence, from the archeitectuer to the ardends, to the food, and even to the music playing in the narrow and colorful streets. The Alhambra Palace almost lived up to all the hype that was given to it, which say a lot. Also the Capillo Real where Ferdinand and Isabella are buried was interesting. But the best thing by far was this

In Granada, it is a tradition that you get free tapas when you order somethg to drink. It was awsome. Awsome. Awsome. Awsome. Awsome. In the words of my brother on the night I got engaged, "awsome........that's awsome" Indeed. Now some places only do it because they have to, so they dont have the best ones, but other places give out really good Tapas. At one of the places they gave a fairly decent portion of fried octopus with our order or wine. It should also be said that the wine was 1.60 Euros. So it was beyond worth it. It was Awsome.

We all eventually arrive at our hostel in Sevilla. To start off with the hostel was really great. Good beds, free internet, and a roof top terrace witha small pool and all taht for 15 euros per night. They also organized events for the people staying there like a dinner on the rooftop with a good thee course meal and free Sangria. They also organize Tapas tours. S owhat are Tapas tours. In spain its a way of life, a pasttime (we are told) to go to a bar around 9 or 10 and oder Tapas, spanish appetizer, and a drink. Once you finish your Tapa dn drind, you make you way to the next Tapas Bar, our tour just lead us throughout town to twhat hte considered to be the best onees. At the end they took us to see Flemenco dancing. It was a more contemporary style with a small live band. I probably would do a poor job of describing it so I ll jus say t was really cool.

Another thing that was fun about Spain was seeing the different Patterns of daily life.

(Okay I need to pause here and make this statement. I have come to the conclusion that if you are traveling and you want to come away with a slightly clearer idea of the culture you experiencing compared to your own and others, you have to make broad and generalized conclusions based on a limited information. You need to take little occurences and turn them into representative actions of the entire city or region. This can be inaccurate and insulting but you must do it. Even as I have spent 7 months in Stuttgart and 3 months in Vienna, I feel that without these Stereotypes and generalizations based on limited personal experience and conversations, I would have nothing to say besides Stuttgart is clean and Vienna is Baroque...and some people would probably disagree with me in some way on those claims) if you have ever tried to get a sense for another culture before you know what i am talking about, if you say you dont, then you lie, liar.

So with that in mind. (Southern) Spaninsh people are not punctual. They are consistently late but through some strange paradox, the patterns of their daily life are as predictable as clockwork. All the stores open about 5 to 10 minutes after the time that they say they will. At this point, life begins. People slowly wander out in to the streets filling them to medium capacity. It stays this way until about 2 when the stores close and people make their ways to the restaurants. Its funny how some streets look totally empty at this time but when you come to a square, people are overflowing from the Taverns, standing and talking, eating and drinking, being very spanishy. After this siesta/superlonglunchbreak things slowly resume in a normal fashion. Then at about 7 or 8 something happens, people flood the streets; perhaps they're going to buy something, maybe they are walking to dinner, maybe they just want to look spanish so they go in the streets at this time and where a t-shirt that says, "I'm spanish, how could I not be, I'm in a busy pedestrian steet at 8 oclock". But after this something even more incredible happens, the stores close early and by 9:30 the streets look like a ghost town. A quiet wind howls and a lone newspaper tumbles out of sight. But dont fear, as if they had a town hall meeting concerning what to do about the empty streets and someone stood up and said, "we can solve this problem by eating dinner and going to tapas bars," the southern Spaniards flock in numbers to the districts that provide such services. After this period, reinforments are needed. The young people are then dispatched in sparkling regiments armed with mopeds and evening sunglassess to hold the city down until the morning when the old people wake up and take over. In the words of lambchops, "this is the song that never ends, yes, it goes on and on my freinds, some people started singing it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue sining it forever just because it is the song that doesn't end, yes, it goes........on.....and.......on........"

A couple of days later we got on a train headed for Lagos. Lagos came recommended to me and other people in the group as the best beach in Europe. Even though I was there in late February I would say it almost lived up to its claim to fame. Actually, I think San Sebastian would be better. Nevertheless, at this point in the season the warm weather of southern portugal was incredible and enought to get me into the water for abotu 20 minutes. It was also nice to have a 2 mile stretch of beach almost to ourselves.


If you know me then you know that I like to bodysurf like a ....person who like to bodysurf. This has a bit to do with the fact that you need no equipment to do it and I have no equipment. The other part is that there is something priceless about gliding olong the water withoug a boat or motor.
That evening I split an incredible dinner with my friend Isaac. It was a fish sampler and I wish I could have eaten in english. But dang it, I ate it in portuguese. I ate something called aflkjadflkjaflha and it was the best fish I have ever had. I asked the waiter what it was called and he said "lkajflkjafl;j" It was incredible and I want to eat it again but I fear I will get an odd look from the waiter if I order alfjaflkjdflajlfkdj. I don't know maybe it will work.

Overall Lagos is what Lagos was supposed to be, a relaxing beach town.

Again I am on the train. Now leaving Lisbon Portugal. I met my friends there: Isaac, Alison, and Jessica. Isaac is from Texas and studying at UMSL, Al is the other girl from KU, and Jessica graduated from KU last spring.

Although the city was on the Atlantic, Lisbon faced the river that ran next to it. And although it is an industrial city, the old city is charming and built into the hill. Highlights would be visiting the castle which overlooks the city, and the dinner we had last night. We bought about 4 pounds of fresh shrimp and other ingredients and cooked at our hostel. It was also really cool to see the use of tiles on the facades of the buildings, it gave a lot of character and color to the streets.
We also went to go see the site of the 1998 world Exposition. On the way, we accidently took the wrong bus, which went through a district filled with government built low income housing. It made me wonder how that housing could help the situation. They are set up to do nothing but deteriorate, in that the subsidized buildings will not sustain and maintain themselves when without the government pouring more money into them leading the original identical highrise buildings to look even more undesirable than than they started. But more than that, I think those dreary buildings represent the flaw in bandaging the problem rather than addressing the source. In fact, I think bandaging the problem would actually increase the problem because the people would be expecting a bandage from the government and perhaps even counting on it. I dont think that the easy fix answer is to impose full fledged and unlimited capitalism and all aspects of the welfare program, but as I look a the deterioting buildings and the similar ones currently being built around them, it seemed very clear that what was going one was not really helping the situation. I guess I just notice those things more as I have been thinking and reading about urban planning within a free market society and perhaps what I wrote is really obvious but nevertheless it was interesting to see it in such a vivid way. Thats it, perhaps that one was boring, but its what I was thinking about.

Well, there were some complications with my reservatoins from Paris to Lisbon so I had to start heading to Lisbon earlier. I made the new inbetween stop in St. Sebastion, Spain. Aside from sitting in on the cathedral service in spanish, eating black ink squid, hiking 2 mountains (well..hilltains), I did a lot of walking around and thinking. Whether it was meandering through the streets and squares of the town center or walking barefoot in the february sunset beach, I had the people I love and new experiences on my mind. Today was a welcomed break from fast paced architecture classes. Normandy was great, but today was really just taking it easy, and Ill probably need it since Im meeting my friends in Portugal tomorrow.

Despite sleeping discomfort, one of the advantages of the train is the time I have to write, read, and whatever. Thats why I am able to make these entries. Plus its just enjoyable to sit down and think about the day.

I started out the day checking out the 1000 year old, 70 meter long Bayeux tapestry. Definitely intersting but the highlight of the day was really the beaches of Normandy.

Ok, so I arrived in Bayeux, France late at nigh and walked the streets of the sleeping town of 10,000 on a very pleasant February evening. The town of bayeux is kind of a jumping off point to tour the beaches of Normandy.

Although very few people in Europe have been rude to me becaus I am American this place Bayeux was unbelievable. Nowhere else in Europe besides hotel lobbys and bars (we are known for tipping) have I been treated especially nice because I am American. This was a pleasant surprise. It is clear that these people still remember the courage and sacrifice of American soldiers.

For example, I was on the Bus to the Ameican Cemetery. I bought the wrong bus ticket which would have set me a couple stops short of where I needed to be. When I asked to pay the additional charges to get there, the bus driver started to ring up the ticket. Then he asked me if I was American. I said yes. He then stopped and waved me back in the Bus without taking any payment. I know it was just a small gesture but it meant a lot to me. I am proud to be American becausw I believe in what we stand for and I am pround of most of what we have done throughout history. And at a time when much of the world (and especially europe (and especially France)) is very much in disagreement with America, it was just really special to be treated with such honor and kindness, regardless of how small the act.

So I finally arrive.

On the Bluffs overlooking Omaha Beach, the clouds move swiftly overhead bringing periods of intermitent sunshine. A cool 50 degree breeze steadily blows in from the sea. Slowly I pace down the path amidst the 10,000 deceased. I step off the gravel walkway onto the green grass into the fields of white crosses. I walk down one aisle reading the names and states. I come to a grave marked "Only God Knows". And in that moment, I realize that this man gave his life to defend what is right, recieving nothing in return but an anonymous grave in a foreign country. The clock strikes the hour, "Amazing Grace" and then "God Bless America" chime from the lone bell tower, sounding across the grass and graves and fading beyond the bluffs. I look out to the sea, to the cliffs, to the Flag, and back to the anonymous grave. The reality of the courage and sarcifice lying at my feet is overwhelming and I can't help but get choked up.

I walked down to the beach, waves crashing and bluffs overhead. I imagine the boats hitting the shallow water...the latches opening. I imagine myself in the boat. I wonder if I would have what it takes.

Due to the extra time on the beach I missed my bus back to Bayeux. But I saw a sign that said Bayeux so I started walking towards it, full size back pack and all. After a while of making my way through the beautiful french countryside, it became quite clear that it was longer than I thought. Actually, “didn’t think” is a more appropriate word choice. So I decided that hitchhiking might be a cool idea if it would work. It took a while but an extremely nice couple from Paris drove by and then stopped about 50 meters ahead. The actually spoke pretty good english. They wanted to visit one more site before they headed in the direction of Bayeux so we visited a look out point on west side of Omaha Beach together. From their they drove me back to Bayeux which was really out of their way. I guess I had always wanted to hitchhike so it wa pretty cool to actually get the chance to do it, especially with such nice company and scenery.