Would you like to waltz?

Yesterday morning I made my breakfast and sat down to watch a movie I've had for a while, but had yet to see. I started playing it and Mike joined in after watching only the first scene. Waltz with Bashir is an Israeli movie by Ari Folman depicting the Israeli-Lebanese war, mainly the Sabra and Shatila massacre that occurred in 1982.

The movie won a Golden Globe for best foreign film, and rightfully so. It's animated, but quite differently than the average animated film - you'll have to watch it to understand. From a Lebanese point of view, the film was neutral enough, though the Israelis were portrayed in a slightly better light than should be.

If you're looking for some insight into the conflict, or simply a good movie, I recommend you check this one out.

Second Life

In my E-Commerce lecture today we learned about Web 2.0. This is like the internet where everyone can contribute to what everyone else is doing. Its basically things like comments on YouTube, customer's book reviews (not actual critics), blogs, and online games. Have you heard about Second Life? Essentially, people create their virtual alter ego and play "life" on the internet with other people's virtual alter egos. You can be a smokin' hot babe, a judge, a rockstar or even a cat (which is apparently a really popular one). I was completely taken back by this. Why would you want to spend time online talking to virtual animals that are really people who want to be animals? Then I learned that Barack Obama campaigned in it on billboards. Billboards? Are their other advertisements? Wait a second... People actually make money. They host club meetings at their virtual houses and charge admission. Who brings the snacks? Then I learned that some people own property and sell it or rent it out. What??? Who controls this? Are their laws? Regulations? Can you commit murder and get away with it? What if its accidental? What if you're a giraffe driving a virtual bus you just bought from a virtual bus dealership and you're on your way to your giraffe club meeting after you went to Diets of Large Mammals class at giraffe university and you run over a virtual cat named Sam-Sam and kill him? Can you take his money? Do you go to a really tall, thin prison cell? I'm trying to understand what need this fills in people's brains. Books are imaginative but maybe restrictive (some would obviously argue differently), Choose-your-own-adventure books offer greater liberation but less interesting characters, the people you meet everyday are nice but not that interesting, certainly not as interesting as talking to cats and pornstars and landlords on the internet, but maybe thats just it. Maybe a lot of people want to be something they're not. If everyone in the world was something different, but knew it, then who's going to call you out and make fun of you for it? They would just call you out for being something totally ridiculous and then the whole world would come crashing down. I'm going to stick to becoming something I want to be (not sure if thats a cat, pornstar, or landlord) and if it doesn't pan out, I'd watch out for bus-driving giraffes if I were you.

Oh, a cool video we watched today. Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gmP4nk0EOE.

I would avoid thinking about ourselves as machines though. We're more like the breeze that creates ripples in a global flag.

Milan

Hello all,

After a week long hiatus from blogging its time to resume the exciting story of my Budapest experiences.

Milan is a large city. It has wonderful people. In Hotel Greco you can enjoy prepackaged Melba toast, cookies, chocolate filled croissants, honey, nutella, apricot jam, butter and all the espresso shots you can consume included free in the price of the room. As awful as it sounds, I loved getting up for breakfast. They would open the doors and let the morning air in. Mixed with the smell of espresso and episodes of The Fresh Prince of Belair dubbed over in Italian is a surpisingly stimulating experience. You also get to hang out with the coolest ugly dog on the planet, Diablo, a smug pug. I would recommend the Greco to anyone who is budget conscious. For a one-star joint we got four individual beds (a real plus, though the cot's mattress I think was just a big pillow case filled with beach towels) our own bathroom, and a door out to a courtyard.

I read The Miracle at St. Anna in the courtyard. It is set in the hills of Tuscany, which is close enough (though its still about 4 hours away by train) to make reading the book much more real. I loved the book because of how it tied in various elements of history to various characters from multiple cultures in its brash-poetic style. His explanation of why old Italians in small villages don't like to talk about the war makes the war seem horrible and brutal and fragile all at the same time. I could only put it down in between designer stores and gelato.

I'm too big to fit into European clothes. I bought a sweater in Munich two weekends ago. XXXL. No joke. Armani doesn't make clothes this big and if he did the shoulders would still be tight, the waist far to big and the arms about 3 inches too short. I stuck to purchasing a belt and a pair of sunglasses, a cheap Milan zip-up (XXL, very tight, very euro) and scarf for the soccer game. I wanted to buy some hand-crafted Italian leather shoes, but I'd need a pair of scissors instead of a shoe horn to fit into them.

This carnival thing Europe does is a lot of fun. I bought some confetti from a bag because everyone but the Canadians were covered in this confetti stuff. I opened it and threw it on the guys but they didn't think it was so amusing and spent the rest of the day shaking it off themselves. In retrospect, it was maybe a silly purchase (2 euro) because two seconds away were these big vents you find in the ground that pump air out from some sort of underground ventilation system and kids were throwing handful after handful of the recycled paper into the air covering everyone.

The Duomo is the third largest church in the world and it was stunning. Actually breathtaking. The scoops of bacio, pistachio, nougat and biscuit gelato in my mouth dribbled down my chin. Fortunately these nice Senegalese guys came up to Trevor and I to offer us free bracelets. I finished my gelato, wiped my face and after initially saying "No thanks," they said "Oh come on, its free. It's our gift to you." After another "No thanks, its nice of you to offer," he smiled wide and asked "Where you from? You have a girlfriend? Babies?" and before I knew it I had two bracelets around my wrist to which he said "Can you spare some money for Africa?" At this point I know I don't want the bracelet, I don't want to donate to some undisclosed charity in Africa, but its already on my wrist, the guy was really friendly and whats a few euro cents, right? "Oh come on, man! Five euro." I want to tell him that beggars can't be choosers, that you can't offer "free" things, then ask for a donation to something, then demand five euros for some shitty bracelet. "That's all I've got," I lied and handed him one euro twenty. I still had a few euros in my pocket and he knew it, he could probably hear it in my pocket, but fuck it, I wanted more gelato. From the four of us, two guys made about five euros collectively in about 4 minutes. It pays to be insistent.

If the outside of the Duomo is breathtaking, inside you can't breathe. It's damp and dingy and dark and cold and somehow a room the size of the inside of the third biggest church in the world manages to choke you, engulf you, squeeze something inside you so that when you leave the huge metal doors you feel instantly like the weight of 700 years of prayer and marble are lifted away forever and you never want to go inside again. Instead, pay five euro to walk up to the roof to get a view of Milan and the incredible detail of the spires.

I really liked Milan and am eager to go back. A combination of the ritz and glamour of the fashion streets (with the Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Bentleys and Aston Martins) with wood-fired pizza, gelato, carnival, weather warm enough to wear a t-shirt, discount stores and open markets made it a really enjoyable trip.

Went to Italy, need a job.

Tickets to AC-Milan game: 35 euros
D&G party shirt: 65 euros
Extra baggage fee on WIZZAIR: 40 euros
Armani shades, handmade shoes, AC-milan gear, more handmade shoes: too many fackin euros

Rocking all this gear to a "hip" Milan club: priceless ONLY if you're into dudes (more sausages there than I saw in Bavaria). Suffice it to say, the Canadian contingent considered the cost of this night to be 35 euro, WITHOUT buying any drinks in the club AND we WALKED 7km to get home. Taxi's charge you 10 bucks just to sit down in Milan vs. 5 bucks for the whole journey in Budapest.

So we're back from Milan. It was nice to be able to spend more than 4 hours exploring a city. All of us felt like we got to know the city really well, and we needed to considering how for into the suburbs our hotel was. We used the metro to explore the entire city as various bazaars and fashion outlets lured us to all corners of Milan.

Some highlights
- Gelato was delicious and consumed daily, often twice.
- It was festival in Milan. Everybody was in full costume, throwing confetti until it covered the street.
- We all played our part to support the struggle in Africa
- Watching AC Milan blow a 2-nil lead. Great effort by old man Beckham. Ronaldihno and Kaka were sorely missed.
- Trevor replaces shoe with hole in it after weeks of ridicule. I never thought 4 dudes could have so much fun shopping

If you want to hear more about anything I posted about, or see pictures of it, please ask a question in the comments section. I'm doing this blog for you guys, so it will only improve with your input and contributions.

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Tristan wins latest poll, makes it two in a row

Congratulations to Tristan for winning the "who slept the most on the Cologne trip" poll. There seems to be no stopping him. First the gourmet chef of the flat, and now the most skilled sleeper. Proof below.



Tristan sleeping in class.

Mr. Bigglesworth

"What?", I asked myself when I actually considered the date I saw before me. "The 25th of February? There's no way..." As shock turned to reason, it seemed that 1. I have lost almost complete track of time; 2. I am still sane; 2.33. I think; 2.67. I'm quite positive actually though I bought hair clipper today with the intention of buzzing my hair off Britney-style; 3. I only have 3 months left of school; and 4. I should really find some seeds for that money tree I've been meaning to grow...

Every month a fantastic process takes place. We knew that we had to pay the man, the landlord, what we didn't know was how much utilities would cost. For the entirety of this month, we have mostly lived in frigid conditions. The only warm places seem to be about 2 inches from the radiators and on the electric range. When Gabor said, "No one has ever used this much gas in a month before," we were all pretty confused. "Uhh, that can't be right," Tristan said. "We've actually been living in the freezer." The highest amount of gas ever consumed in the flat was 271 cubic metres in a month. We somehow managed to consume 324. Last January, which was somewhat milder apparently, the tenants used 68. We've just decided to bundle up at home. We have pretty much cut the heating entirely except for heating the hot water. It isn't our job to invest in caulking, insulation, carpets, blankets, etc. etc. We've already bought shelves and mirrors. We let Gabor inspect the issue but its pretty futile I figure. If we are living in cold anyways, we might as well avoid paying an arm and a leg for it. Besides, this will be the coldest month and if we cut consumption now we can ammortize the gas expense over the remainder of the lease ("ammortize" - a favourite term of McConomy and Welker).

A month has come and passed and though there is still snow on the ground and winter doesn't want to go away, the sun came out and I only wore a sweater to the Immigration Office to finalize my residence permit. After all the documentation needed, the pleas to banks, parents, lawyers, university registrars, embassies, consulates, and 18,000 forint in stamps I finally have the shiny sticker in my passport that allows me to come and go from the country between April 21 and May 23. Seems like a big waste of energy to me considering I'll be studying for exams and not traveling (who am I kidding though?).
Melinda offers free hugs.

As of yet no one has blogged about our time with the three wonderful Austrian girls. Initially, since the recent fiasco with the Austrian coat thieves, we were weary of them. I hid all my belongings (which are few and smell of a mixture of 2-week old cigarette smoke, alcohol, sweat, blood, and tears) in the only place where I knew the filthy Austrians wouldn't go: the shower. My first impression was the complete opposite from my presuppositions. The women; Melinda (who is actually from Switzerland I think), Verena (who is actually from Germany) and Raquel (who is actually from Mexico) were a great addition to the pad while they were here. Once I realized none were authentically Austrian I was relieved. I don't really know why anyone even thought they were Austrian to being with. We played yahtzee and bananagrams, they made dinner, we drank alcohol (i know, hard to believe), sang karaoke at Morrison's (slight cringe at the thought of ABBA's "Thank you for the music"), had deep conversations about the world, shared stories, and meant to give free hugs to the people of Budapest but only made cardboard signs which are now hung to the walls downstairs. When we left for Munich on Thursday, we let them stay in our flat over the weekend. They cleaned it up really nice. Melinda works at an Igloo hotel in Zurich and offered a free night for us. We might be all traveled out, but it would be an awesome experience. I'll miss them and I'm sure the rest of the guys will too.

March, fittingly, will begin in Milan. We will travel to Zurich potentially, Belfast, Dublin, and I'll spend 10 days with Lauren in Cairo, riding camels, scuba diving, climbing pyramids and avoiding bombs (Its pretty unnerving but if I can put a positive spin on it, security will be at a high and prices will be at a low).

Well, I'd better get packing. To conclude in the wise words of Dr. Evil, "It's frickin' freezing out here, Mr. Bigglesworth."

Our landlord with Mr. Bigglesworth.

Heading to Milano

In just under 30 hours we will be on a Wizz Air (discount airline) flight bound for Milan. I don't know where we'll be sleeping (we haven't booked anything yet) and I don't know how we will fill our days (we don't plan too well), but I do know that we will be watching an AC Milan game Thursday night. I've been following this team for around 6 years now, ever since I started watching soccer and I honestly can't believe that I'm finally going to be watching a live game.

What is it with us men and sports? Why do we follow teams and players that don't even know of our existence? Why are we so emotional about "our teams"? Once again, I do not know, but what I do know is that I may have to fight back some tears when "my team" takes the field.

Memories from the road...

So it seems like mike and rock have done a pretty good job of filling everyone in on the broad structure of the trip. I'll just add a few reflections on memorable moments.

Our car almost "broke down" twice on this trip (ie. mike/rock were unable to start it in a gas station). Tristan and I weren't allowed to drive because of the insurance. Tristan "started" the car the first time by starting the car in neutral instead of drive. I "started" it the second time by moving the steering wheel before turning the key (thanks dad). We narrowly avoided the disaster of running out of gas on the autobahn. We were running on fumes for around 10 minutes with no civilization in sight.

The Haufbrauhauss was great once again - probably the best meal this trip. We tried to make up a few english drinking songs to seem less lame compared to the Germans next to us, but probably still came across as tools to them. I love that place and their 1L beers, can only imagine how crazy it would get come Octoberfest.

We never got stopped at customs once the entire trip. Damn ... could have made a killing in the import/export business, jks.

It's amazing to think we're doing Milan this weekend. It'll be nice to spend a bit less time driving and a little more time exploring. It'll be a different type of trip.

Good to be "home"

Wow, what a trip. Fun, random, but exhausting. It's great to be back to Budapest and to our flat, to sleep in our own beds, and to get a few days of rest before we fly to Milan on Thursday (more on that later). Some info about the trip:

Driving was pretty fun for me. I can't say I'm the most experienced driver, so I was a little nervous about driving along the Autobahn and through cities I wasn't familiar with. Thankfully, this wasn't a problem for too long and I got the hang of it quickly enough. My philosophy was that if I could drive and survive in Lebanon, I could surely do the same in Europe. We pushed our poor Opel Astra to the limit and maxed it out at around 205 kph. Poor thing.



Hotels The hostel in Munich was great. For only 10 Euro a night in a 40-bed room it was a pretty good deal. Before leaving, though, some greasy, slightly overweight, tattooed Spanish dude tried to pick a fight because my bag was leaning against his. Some people must really hate their lives huh? The "hotel" in Amsterdam was tiny and crappy and the one in Cologne was similar. The sheets were always clean though and that's all I ask for.

Cities Mike's post gives you a good idea of what we were up to. The trip was largely spontaneous and unplanned, and that's what really made the trip a great experience. We definitely ended the trip with a bunch of good stories.

Photos I was pretty lazy this weekend and only managed to take 92 photos, most of which were pretty crappy. My favourite is the one below. I took it while we were walking around Munich, a few hours before driving away to Amsterdam.

Online Polls

Hey everyone,

the boys are back from an intensely long road trip across western europe. final statistics are as follows: Getting ready... We are parked on the sidewalk in Budapest. This is typical

Distance: 2,330 km
Top Speed: 205km/h (see photo above)
Total Time: 3 days and 17 hours, 23 hours of driving (22 hours slept by tristan in car)
Rental: 50 euro/day
Gasoline: 2x50 euro/day

Illegal manouevres: 2 (1 speeding ticket in Amsterdam [not fair considering we just got off the autobahn] and one parking ticket in Vienna)

Canadian drinking songs: atleast 3 were sung at the Hofbrauhaus in Munich (one was Oh Canada...), the largest Beer Hall in the world while a group of twenty German guys belted out their own drunken ramblings at the top of their lungs at the table beside ours

Coffeeshops visited: 2, after the long drive from Munich, trevor needed a lot of coffee...
Spacecakes consumed by group: 1, unshared

Number of times sharing a bed: 2 (I slept with Trevor in Amsterdam in the shittiest "hotel" i've ever seen => the shower was in the same room as the toilet so you would literally shower over top of the toilet and there was no sink to wash your hands. the next person to use the toilet would find it soapy clean but in three inches of post-shower water. The other was Rock and Tristan who shared a bed at the Warsteiner Hof in cologne. I slept on the floor using trevor's coat as a pillow while trevor took a cot that rocked like a teeter-totter)

German entourages: 1, its wise to follow Germans who reference WWII, hand you dollar bills with boobs on them, and jump in unison on elevators trying to break it screaming German words knocking eachother over and pissing in garbage cans.

Extended meals across Europe: 1. On the journey home it was decided that a goal would make the drive more enjoyable. We drove to Salzburg, Austria to have appetizers (some wine, soup and salad) and then on to Vienna for the main course (a metre of barbecue ribs, authentically austrian I know, but it was late and we were really hungry) and finally to Bratislava, Slovakia for banana-splits (is what would have happened if it wasn't 11:30 on a Sunday night).

Massive street festivals: 1. Cologne Carneval puts Homecoming to shame. The party takes place in two areas, each 10 times the number of people that attend Aberdeen. Everyone (I mean everyone) is dressed in ridiculous costumes for the entire festival (it lasts 4 days) so that during the day people are walking around town dressed as pirates, rats, clowns, fairies, dragons, dinosaurs, elvis and anything else you can think of. They close the streets, open the bars for dancing 24 hours for the duration of the festival, all things that can be thrown, stolen, broken, used as a weapon, such as tables, chairs, signs (i watched a lady dressed as a flower carry a street sign down the middle of a street crowded with 60,000 people) are hidden in basements. Oh and there aren't any police to be seen. anywhere. and I didn't meet one other foreigner, they were all locals.
Trevor with crazy Cologners

Helpful Germans: a lot. Germans are awesome. A shout out to the old guy and his wife who practically walked me back to the hotel after Carneval. another shout out to the staff at the Warsteiner Hof who told us that we over slept the free breakfast, then proceeded to offer us free food anyways. finally, a shout out to the girl at the Subway who got us directions to the hotel, and to the girl at the Hostel who let us use the internet for free.

Parking in Amsterdam: astronomical. its no wonder they ride bikes everywhere.

Fun in the sun: 0 hours. It was not sunny once. It was mostly cloudy but proceeded to rain and finally, driving home at 1 in the morning after 3 nights of partying it began to snow. This isnt a problem usually but in an Opel Astra, winter driving can have its concerns.

A windmill near Koln.

Congrats to Tristan for besting everyone in the online poll of "who is the gourmet chef of the flat?".

Tristan in the Kitchen