A New Post - Nevermind

I was going to post a whole lot today, about Antwerp and Brussels and Bruges and getting shabbos invites on the queue in the supermarket and long fasts and overnight buses and PhD dissertations and cog railways and 80 students from New Jersey and a huge fountain but it took too much time to plan my massive train trip through most of Switzerland for tomorrow, and it is late, and I am going to bed.

Den Haag

I had originally thought I'd show up in The Hague, wander around the city for a bit, make my way to the beachside suburb of Scheveningen, tram down to the ParkPop festival, and call it a day, taking a tram to Antwerp next for a few days in Belgium. I dropped my stuff of in the hostel and, putting the citymap away in my back pocket, starting aimlessly ambling through the city. I saw lots of great buildings whose names and functions I had no idea, just soaking in the atmosphere of thi city, which was, frankly, nicer than Amsterdam. Amsterdam is big and touristy and 95% of the tourists are there to see/experience two things; those things are not the Van Gogh museum and the tulips. This gives Amsterdam an air of rushed expectation. The Hague was much more laid back, much more charming with a more authentic feel, and much more empty. I was really digging the city when, walking down some street I heard a kid's voice call out "Abba." Now, I don't know Dutch, but almost a week here has given me the ability to recognize the phonetics, and I knew that Abba is not Dutch. I turned round and saw a man walking with two young children, and he had a kippah on! I went right up to him and said to the effect of "nice to see another kippah here;" I assumed he was also a tourist as I didn't think there was a Jewish community here. I was quite wrong. He told me he lives here in The Hague, that the Jewish community was having a BBQ, and that if I wanted to come run a few errands first, he'd take me to the BBQ. I eagerly accepted and made friends with his two kids in the car on our way to the hardware stores (Iyrgalen, 6, and Ronit, 3). The BBQ was fun and, and to increase the funky cooincideces of the day, I met a young couple who, three months before, moved to the Country Club area of Teaneck, not an 8 minute walk from my parents' house, who are living for two years here in The Hague for work. Wild! We even got to talk about the Young Israel of Teaneck!
After the BBQ we all went to Scheveningen, to the beach, where I played with the kids and, finally, ate some amazing herring. The beach was, well, a beach. Nice sand, decent water, tons of people, nothing new. The herring was though. They sell entrie fish that are beheaded and lightly salted and covered in chopped onions. You hold them by the tail, tilt your head all the way back, drop the fish in, and bite of a nice chunk. The texture is soft but the flesh is quite firm, not like the nasty cream sauce-mayonaissey stuff in the states, and it is not overly salty like our matjes (and I had matjes here as well as the normal herring). Final opinion: awesome. I will never eat herring the same way again. Eat that old Hungarian gys from Rabbi Friedman's shtiebel! (And no kichel here!)
After the beach I went back to the hostel to shower (did I mention, by the way, that the hostel I am in here is amazing?) and then I took the tram to the ParkPop festival. I got there with just two hors to the end, but I got to see Alpha Blondie, Nena, and Danko Jones perform. The festival itself was huge, a nine hour music extravaganza spread out over three massive stages set up over a grand expanse of field, covered in hundreds of thousands of people, soda and beer cups, and food wrappers. I've never been to Woodstock, but this was the closest I'll ever ever get. The sheer size of the it and the amount of people in attendance was staggering, and at least 80% of the people there were stoned or some level of drunk. It was pretty intense. I have never heard of any of the performers either, but they played some pretty good music.
Today I wandered around a really nice 15th centruy town called Delft. It was sooo hot, and after a few hours of walking and seeing some really nic buildings, I lay down on the grass in one of the parks and passed out for half an hour. The heat drains you, especially when carrying around a bunch of stuff and walking a lot. After the nap I felt better, and I went back to The Hague to walk around a bit more, and to go back to Scheveningen to sit on the beach and read (it was empty today) and have a last herring. As I dangled the herring over my mouth, actually already in my mouth, a seagull divebombed and grabbed the fish right out of my hand, whacking me in the face in the process. It was pretty hilarious, and I started cracking up; the bystanders who saw what happened laughed as well, and I got a new herring at no extra charge. I went to the shul for mincha/maariv, and called it a day. Tomorrow I go to Antwerp.
Today I

Amsterdam

I spent the first day in Amsterdam walking. I walked around in the morning on my own, I went on a guided walking tour in the afternoon, and I walked around more in the evening and night. I like Amsterdam, it is chraming. I wasn't shocked by anything, everything was as I expected. The architecture is nice, the canals are charming, the red light district is, well, what you would expect. The best thing I saw was a raft made of a flat wooden floor with six plastic oildrums bolted to the bottom and an outboard motor and couch on top. That was it. Two guys were just literally couch surfing down one of the canals.
The second day I rented a bike and biked in Amsterdam Noord (north) where I saw lots of fields and canals and cows and even some of the famous windmills. The bike ride was nice, and very easy (this country is so flat!), but it was then that I made the decision to come home early. I am still kicking myself for it, but I am sure it will all work out in the end. At night I took a walk and stumbled upon the International Thetre School's fesival/party and joined, where I found out about ParkPop, supposedly the biggest pop music festival in Europe, kind of like the European Woodstock, which takes place in Den Haag. Just that morning I got an email from Ephraim teling me about the amazing herring in Scheveningen, a beach suburb of Den Haag, and I decided to go after shabbos.
I had planned to go to the museums in Amsterdam on Friday, but after seeing how much they wanted to charge (14 euro for Van Gogh and 12.50 for the Rijksmueum, which was mostly closed undergoing renovations) I decided to skip the museums, and I walked around the last bits of the city that I had not seen yet, including Vondelpark, a realy nice park, and the outdoor Bloemenmarkt, the flower market, where the two most ubiquitous products were tulip bulbs and cannbis seeds.
After I was finished with the city I went to the family I was staying at for shabbos, the son of the family I ate with last week in London. Nice family, their kids have the reddest hair I have ever seen. If you look straight at their heads you get blinded, it was that intensely and brightly red. There was another North american there for shabbos, a Canadian med student who was an absolute pleasure to talk to. He did philosophy in undergrad and has a masters in theoretical physics and is now in med school and we had some brilliant conversation, easily the highlight of shabbos.
Shabbos endd extremely late (we didn't make havdallah until 12, the fast is going to be torture), and after showering and using the internet, I got to bed at around 2.
And woke up at 6 to catch the tain to Den Haag.
All shabbos and before people were telling me that Amsterdam is the only thing really worthwhile seeing in The Netherlands, that it is a boring country, that the rest of it is just plain old nothing. I never believe people when they say things like that, especially if they are city people. As a New Yorker, I am also biased against the surrounding areas, so I went to Den Haag anyway, especially as there was that huge music festival going on and great herring to try. I was only going to stay a day, but something happened that made me stay for longer.

Arriving in Amsterdam

Easyjet is a pretty decent airlines. I've heard horror stories, but the plane was new, the seats were of reasnable size, and for the price of a 12 hours bus-ferry-train trip, I took a 45 minute flight (and I am including the baggage fee that Easyjet adds). Sure, from the time I left the city of London until the time I got to my hostel was actually four and a half hours, but the train ride that was twice the price of my journey takes the same amount of time. I sat next to two Dutch sisters on their way home from a London shopping spree and we ended up talking for the entire flight, the baggae collection, and then, when my credit cards failed to work in the ticket machine at the airport, Sven, a boyfriend of one of them who came to pick them up, bought me a ticket. Nice guy.
I got to the hostel eventually, showered, and went right to bed. No staying up late in amsterdam for night number one.

The Magic of Travel

I was tired. I spent all night doing laundry and packing, and I got only three hours of sleep. I spent all day walking around the Tower of London, it was hot, and, despite a multitude of sitting breaks, I realized that my knee is a lot less recovered than I thought. I was hot, sweaty, getting bored of, or at least too used to, London, and between being tired, my knee hurting, and the feeling of boredom, the first thoughts of going home started to flit across my semi-consciousness. The hot and sweaty train ride to the airport and the shlepping 50 pounds of bag on my back with my knee didn't do much to help, and I have to admit tha my mood was dropping faster than the UK's welfare benefits.
Then I got to airport security.
Over a hundred people were queued up waiting to walk through the metal detectors, taking their phones out of their pockets and their belts off, all of s sharing the wonderful universal experience that is airtravel.
A smile started to creep across my face.
The "Strange Creatures" music from Doctor Who started playing in my head (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqm4vaWJhpw).
By the time I got through security I was grinning ear to ear, rejuvenated, reenergized, ready to go, excited to visit yet another new place, all thoughts of home vanishing from my mind, the pain (almost) leaving my knee, and was psyched, once again, to travel, reminding me why I love doing this. I have no idea how I am going to 'settle down' again.

Last Days in London

I spent the last two days hanging out with a friend from Argentina who was over in London with her mom after acting as a delegate to Amsterdam from the Anne Frank house in Buenos Aires. It was nice to have some company. I showed them around the city on Monday (I guess I've been here a long time). At night I went out to eat in a great restaurant, this funky pizza parlor called Pizaza, with good thin crust pizza and decent milkshakes, and super company; Gaby Davis and her boyfriend Dovid took me, and taught me some great British slang, words that seem so benign in American yet mean completely different things in English English. I'll be useing them.
Today I spent all day with Lu and her mom in the Tower of London. The Yeoman tour was great, and everything else was neat, but I did not think it was worht the very expensive entrance fee. Ah well. I can say I saw the Tower and the Crown Jewels and the Armour of lots of English kings and a perrier firing and... ok, I guess there was a lot to do and see, it was just quite expensive.

Posh HipHop

I went to town today, drawn by a music festival that was going on in town (actually,there were a few but I only made it to this one). All of the museums and schools near Exhibition Road (V&A, Natural History Museum, Science Museum, royal College, Royal Academy of Music, etc) hosted performances from all over. I did see a bit of the science museum, but the performances were really the highlight. I saw a string quintet in the science Museum (ok), a bit of As You Like It, a gypsy band, a Hungarian cello piece, a Brazilian piece for cello and guitar, capoiera, but the highlight was definitely this guy: http://www.myspace.com/mrbthegentlemanrhymer.
He calls himself Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer, and he did what he calls 'Chap-Hop,' affecting a very posh accent and demeanor and doing rap, and sometimes rock, style music, but about posh things like cricket and drinking tea and crack cocaine. K, that one isn't that posh. He was hilarious. He started every song with "Hit it sir! and ended with "I thank you" but in a very posh British accent. Amazing.

Boring, and then Better

This past week was mostly boring, with one very nice day. After the Stomachache, on Tuesday, I stayed home to rest and rehabilitate my knee, doing absolutely nothing. So Tuesday was boring.
Wednesday was fun though. I went to Cambridge and was shown around by a real live student! (Thanks Gaby!) We walked around a bunch of colleges, getting into places ordinary tourists can't, and I got a very interesting explanation of some of the history and culture of Cambridge. Those people can party! For two weeks in June, after exams, the University has something called May Week (no idea)where the colleges throw massive black-tie balls, complete with circuses and champagne and oysters and silent disco and Jay-Z and unlimited food and alcohol and fun. I did not get to go to one :(
Very cool though. That night I went out with a young couple I got friendly with. They took me to a kosher pub, which was kind of neat. The place was a pub, and a restaurant, and all the food is kosher; though they don't serve pub food, it was still fun. The food was decent, the atmosphere was...different, and each table had a touch screen computer on which you order, play games, pub quizzes, and can read your horoscope.
Thursday and Friday were both boring days. I stayed at home, RICEd my knee, stretched, and was bored. Shabbos, however, was AMAZING. On Friday night I went to a really amazing family, had amazing food (lamb tagine, brisket, moroccan chicken, roasted veg, roasted potatoes, great salad with quinoa, really delicious) and some great conversation. The grandfather can trace his family entirely in England all the way back to the 17th century; he was in London during the Blitz and told stories about hiding in the bomb shelters and actually getting hit by an explosion. The grandmother and I talked about Victorian literature, we all talked about military history, and the three oldest kids and I (the eldest is exactly Yosef's age) had a very intense conversation about Doctor Who, while the adults rolled their eyes at us. Awesome! It is a shame that American kids don't grow up with Doctor Who, it has to be one the most well-done kids TV shows (that can also be enjoyed by adults) ever made. Watch it.
For lunch I went to one of the rabbis in the JLE, a South African fellow, who had 40 people for lunch. 40. It was massive. I met tons of new people, including a cohort of French girls, some of them med students, who sat across from me. We talked for most of the meal and between mincha and maariv as well. The rabbi put on this hilarious, I guess you could call it a show, where he sang, in quite an operatic voice, a yiddishe song about mashiach and then proceeded to put on hats from a number of different countries (USA, Scotland, South Africa, England, Russia, etc) and sing in each country's 'style.' You had to be there, but it was hilarious. The whole shabbos had great food, great people, great conversation, a great end to my time here in the UK. I leave to Amsterdam on Tuesday, my knee is sort of starting to improve-ish, and hopefully, next week will mirror this past shabbos more than it will this past week.

Most Expensive Stomachache

I went to get some Indian Food for dinner last night. I thought it would be neat, meat Indian food, which, besides in Teaneck, you can't get in NY. It was expensive, but I haven't been spending much on food, so I figured it would be ok. From now on, when I say I love Indian food, I mean the vegetarian stuff a la Madras Mahal or Kalpna. The meaty stuff is as greasy as Chinese food. At least it wasn't as full of sugar and cornstarch as well. My tummy, used to crackers and tuna and the occasional hummus, is not handling it well. That, along with a worsening knee, is prompting me to take a day off today.

Good Times, but Winding Down

Well, by now I've walked most neighborhoods of London, been to most of the museums (though not all) and I'm starting to feel the first aches of boredom. I might have to go somewhere else soon.
Yesterday was fun though. I started off in the Marylebone Summer Fayre. As an aside, Marylebone is pronounced 'marly-bone.' Leicester is pronounced 'lester.' The English may have invented the English language but it seems they take too much license with spelling and pronunciation.
Anywho, the fayre was mostly torture, as it was mainly a food fair, with stalls representing cuisines from most of the world's countries, as well as bakers and cheesemakers and other local food craftsmen selling their wares. It smelled sooo good. What made up for all of it was a couple giving a dance demonstration; they were dancing the Salsa to "Never had a friend like me" from Aladdin. Legendary. After the fayre I walked to Hyde Park, where, on Sunday, in one corner of the park, anyone who wants can set up a little soapbox to pontificate on anything he/she may desire. I had to see it. It turned out to be a few arguments of varying civility between Muslim and Christian clerics, which was quite brilliant to listen to. Most of them, even though they were trained in seminary, were not brilliantly educated; one of them tried to bring an example from Greek mythology but confused Heracles with Antaeus, which undermined a significant point of his argument, though if anyone else caught it, they didn't speak up. What was very interesting though, is that the Islamic clerics would continually include Judaism and the Jews in their theology, specifically setting aside those two against the theology of Christianity, while the Christians took it for granted that the Jews are wrong in their beliefs. While, at the present political climate, many Jews perceive Muslims as enemies, it seem sin the religious arena, they are our closest friends.
After observing the religious wrangling I wandered about for a bit, up Baker St (221B isn't really there, a huge disappointment), into Regent's Park (very nice), into Selfridge's (similar to Macy's), and unexpectedly into the Wallace collection, one of my favorite museums so far. It is a small luseum, really a rather large private collection of all kinds of art, armour, and the like. The collection is magnificent and eclectic but not overwhelmingly huge. I got there 40 minutes before closing, but I have to go back. By the time I was done with the museum my knee was gone, so I had to return home.
Today I was going to go to the Tower of London, but the lines were huge AND, IT IS SO EXPENSIVE! 15 pounds for a student ticket! Yeesh. Instead I wandered around the Barbican and the Museum of London. I was starting to get a bit bored. The city was getting to be a bit repetitive, just, nice, relatively slow moving clean civilized touristy streets, park, museum, park, museum. I got into the Tube to go to the Imperial War Museum, free, and on high recommendation from a few people. I got out at Elephant & Castle (the Tube stop) and, BAM, a breath of fresh air! This part of the city was, well, gritty. At least more so than the center of town, all clean and pristine and proper and toursity. This place had some diversity, some realism. God, I miss New York. The museum was good, two great exhibits on the First World War and the Second World War 2, and a Holocaust museum. I was in the museum until 5, when I went home, ate some mediocre and overpriced Indian food, and ten just hung around.
I have to say though, before I sign off, that anyone who spreads the stereotype of the rude, impolite New Yorker has never been to London. If you are following, you know that I have re-injured my knee, and it has gotten to the point where it is difficult to walk normally, so, I got hold of a cane. Works wonders. Anywho, when I was walking around on my cane post-op in NYC, whenever I got on the Subway, without asking or even making eye contact, at least one person would offer me their seat if there wasn't one available, people in a rush would give me some room, and were generally pretty nice and considerate. Now, I am not so crippled that I cannot stand up in the subway or handle a bit of jostling, so I don't say this out of any personal affront or offense. No one here on any of the five Tube rides I took today, all of which were crowded, offered me a seat. People pushed and jostled and tried to get ahead and came barreling towards me with no concern and no regard and no consideration. Now, practically speaking, it was fine, like I said, I am more than fine enough to handle all of that. However, it was a noticeable behavior difference compared to New Yorkers, who really don't deserve a stereotype for rudeness. London seems to have us beat by a mile.

A Hiccup, An Obstacle, A Problem

Shabbos was, as usual, amazing, lots of fun, met great people, the whole nine yards. Ate well, slept well, conversed well, even learned well (I went to a Gemara shiur in shul). What is not well is my knee. I have pushed it too hard I think. Over the last few weeks of biking, hiking, walking, and climbing, I have slowly pushed my already injured knee farther and farther, having to pop more and more motrin to keep going, knowing I was doing something stupid but not wanting to give up on my goal of climbing the three peaks or biking Skye etc. Now, I am paying the consequences. I have been RICEing my knee over the past few days, I have been stretching and doing the light exercises my therapists gave me, and it is only getting worse. Stairs are a killer and now just walking on flat ground is starting to get painful. Not. Good. I'll have to figure something out, but I do not want to come home. If I go home now I'll regret it forever, as I still have so much to see and money to see it with. Maybe if I find a walking stick... Or a place to rest for an extended amount of time while I do some rehab...

Back in London

In London I was exhausted, again, but I went into the city, to see a matinee of Henry !V Part1 at the Globe (amazing, hilarious), to the Tate Modern, back to Golders Green to relax. Yesterday I went to Westminster Abbey, which, while expensive, was totally worth it. I have been to so many beautiful Cathedrals and I thought I'd be Cathedralled out, but this building was amazing. And the Poet's Corner was soo Cool! Chaucer's grave! Among many others! After I went to the British Museum. A word on the museum. Very impressive, very col to see so many important historic and cultural artifacts under one roof, but too much. I was there for three hours and I don't feel like I got a good idea of any single one of those cultures. You need to devote days to that museum to really get its full potential, but that is just too. Some of the artifacts on exhibit though, are very neat, both for their importance (the Rosetta Stone) and their inherent grandeur (the wall carving from Nimrud).
After I got bored with the museum I met a British friend who i met in Buenos Aires for a drink, and went to another Shakespeare performance, this time Macbeth, at the Globe. If you have never been to the Globe, I have to explain. The theater is round, and on the floor is room for a number of what they call groundlings, people who pay 5 pounds to stand up the entire show. this is what I did. However, the floor is right by the stage and between the stage and the doors for the actors, so there is quite a bit of audience interaction. This production of Macbeth happened to be the single most bloody and gruesome play I have ever seen, and there were quite a lot of screeching girls, and some screaming guys, when the witches crawled beneath people or bloody body parts shot out of no where. It was all quite fun, and I am definitely getting my summer Shakespeare fix. I almost don't miss Shakespeare in the Park.
today I just wrote and did laundry.
Have a great shabbos!

Coming back from Skye, Harry Potter

The next day I woke up a bit later and had a ridiculously long day, taking a bus from Skye to Armadale, a ferry from Armadale to Mallaig, the Hogwarts Express from Mallaig to Fort William, a bus from Fort William to Glasgow, and an overnight bus from Glasgow to London. The train was nice-ish. The buses and ferry were ok. The overnight coach was miserable, with no room, and two half hour stops where the driver turned the lights on and made loud announcements. Why!!! It was an 8 hour drive! Why all the breaks! Why wake me up!?!
the best part was meeting two other travelers who took the same journey with me, all the way down to Glasgow from Skye.

Skye

By the time I got to the Isle of Skye, one of the inner Hebrides, I was exhausted, so I went to the hostel, checked in, took a shower (yes, I sat on the bus for three hours smelling, well, rather gross), and prepped to go to bed. I just wanted to take a short walk to see the town...
And I passed by a pub where they were playing live Scottish/Celtic music! I love that stuff! So, I went into the pub, got a local ale from the only brewery on Skye, and had a great time for over an hour, met some Polish girls traveling, and then, finally, went to bed.
The next morning (I was still exhausted; I woke up at 6. It's the sun's fault!) I rented a bike and biked around the island for 60 miles or so. what a beautiful area. The pictures are on Facebook. It was the nicest bike ride I have ever done. I also ran out of water with about 15 miles left even though I took over half a gallon, and there was no where to fill it up, so I returned tired AND dehydrated. But it was totally worth it, and I even got to see the Outer Hebrides and got to do something I have wanted to do for years: I got to sit on the Hebrides, looking at the Henrides, listening to the Hebrides. Check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3MiETaBSnc.
I took a shower when I got back and drank lots of water and tea and juice to recover. I ate also, a lot, and took a short walk after. I saw that the pub was advertising more free Scottish music, so I went again, got the same beer, and finished it really quickly when I realized that band was only covering overplayed American rock songs (why do the British love "Sweet Home Alabama" so much?).
I went back to the hostel and watched Star Wars episode one, one of the worst movies ever made, with an Austrian.
Oh yeah! I almost forgot! At the hostel there were a bunch of danish biker dudes from Norway, and at the pub that night they were all a bit drunk and wearing viking helmets for national viking day. It is a great story, but I cannot do justice to it in text. Call me if you want to hear it.
After the Duel between Obi-Wan and Darth Maul, I went to bed.

Ben Nevis was built up by nearly everyone I spoke to. The Rabbi in Edinburgh told me to be very careful, that a number of frum people from Glasgow had to be rescued, the leaflets and information packets all had bright bold red warnings, and the tourist information folks at the Information Center in fort Wiliiam all warned me about navigation and steep drops and snow and high winds and quick, blinding fogs and and and...
They almost scared me.
I must say that it was the EASIEST, SIMPLEST mountain I have ever climbed. It was barely a strenuous hike. I sweated, sure, but I did not breathe hard once, and I had only slept an hour the night before, and an hour on Thursday night. The trail was insanely easy to follow and there was nothing difficult at all about this hill. For that is what it really was. A hill. in fact, when I asked the fellow at the Parks office about the mountain and what he thinks, he said, I quote "it is a shit hill." It really is. I was extremely disappointed.
I was easily able to make it down and on a bus to go to Skye, which really cheered me up with some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever scene. Ever.

Catching Up Part 2 and Shabbos in Edinburgh

On Thursday I tok a free walking tour of the city which pointed out, among other things, the school that Hogwarts was based on, and the graves of McGonnagall and thomas Riddle in a cemetary overlooked by the very cafe that JK wrote her books in. Harry Potter fans, be jealous! I ate, for the second time, at the only kosher place in town, a vegetarian Indian restaurant (didn't I mention it?) whith an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet. Let me tell you, when you are surviving on rye crackers and tuna, a buffet hot meal is heaven. Thursday was a pretty quiet day though, as were all of the days in Edinburgh. I wandered around the city, met the fellow I would be staying by for shabbos (Ohad Kramar, great guy), napped in the park, and went out at night. Friday was more of the same, though in the afternoon I moved my stuff from the hostel to Ohad's flat.
The Jewish community in Edinburgh was great, really nice people, less mainstream than the rest of the Jews, who all pretty much live in London and Manchester. Shabbos was really great though, especially as I met a guy from Baltimore who knows my family. He even met my brother a few times! Weird Jewish-geography moment. We took a walk up Arthur's Seat again and through the Old Town. The weather was pretty amazing too, for the most part, until it went from sunny to pouring in a minute. shabbos was insanely long too; we couldn't daven maariv until 11:15! By the time I got back to Ohad's flat, it was 12:30, and I had to wake up at 4! And Ohad wasn't home yet, and I had to use the internet to prep for my trip to the Highlands. I waited up for him, he returned at 2:30 and made us both pancakes. I ended up sleeping an hour, waking up an hour later to catch a bus to Fort William, the town closest to Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in all Great Britain.

Catching Up

Finally, access to a computer that won't log me off after 15 minutes.
I just returned to London by overnight coach, but more on that later. I haven't really been able to update much due to the lack of internet.
The morning after biking to, climbing, and biking back from Scafell Pike I was completely exhausted, but I had a bike to return and a train to catch, so I woke up nice and early. The fellow and the bike shop told me to have the bike back by 9 sharp (they usually don't allow ovenights) but, when I got to the shop at 9, no one was there. Nor by 9:30, 9:45, etc, so I locked the bike up to the front door, left the key in the lock and a note in the helmet, hoping that it would get back to them (it did). When I got to Edinburgh they were just seeing the edge of a rainstorm, so the weather was bleak, and I was exhausted, so my first impression of the city wasn't wonderful. I shlepped myself over to the hostel, checked in, and summoned up some more energy to go out and walk around. After a bit of a walk finding the shul and the kosher establishments, I returned to the hostel for a short but invigorating nap, allowing to climb to the top of Arthur's Seat (250m), the remnant's of an extinct volcano and the highest point around Edinburgh (pronounced, by the way, Edinburuh, not edinburg). The hill is accessible both by nice shallow paths along one face and steep rock scramble along the other. Of course, I took the steep rock scramble, which contributed to tiring me out, but the views at the top were amazing, especialy as the sun was setting behind the city.
The next day I just walked around the city some more, exploring some of the residential neighborhoods as well as the Royal Mile in Old Town, the parks, and the New Town. I liked the Old Town better; though it is way more touristy, with kilted bagpipiers on every block, it has more perosnality. There are dozens of small, narrow alleyways, called closes (because they used to end in enclosures for animals), old buildings, maze-like streets that lead from the upper level of the city to the lower, and a dark, almost sinister, but definitely mysterious air. Oh, and another claim to fame is that the city is the birthplace of Harry Potter. I stayed a few minutes from cafe where JK wrote, and I saw the school that inspired her books, and the gravestone of Thomas Riddle (he was a real guy).
The city also touts tons of tours, from ghost tours, underground dungeon tours, historical tours, and a literary pub tour. Can you guess which one I took?
That night I joined the literary pub tour, led by two professional actors. They took us through the streets of Edinburgh to all the sites of literary significance, all the while quoting Robert Burns and Scott, among others, with thick Scottish accents. Some of the Scottish cask ales aren't too shabby either.

Edinburgh and the Last Few Days

Whew. I have been completely exhausted these last few days. Edinburgh nightlife just drains you. Nah, it's actually all the hiking that I ended up doing for the few days before. Between the Peak District and peat bogs on Sunday, Scafell Pike, Bowfell Pike, biking, and the Lake District on Monday, walking Edinburgh and Arthur's Seat on Tuesday and Wednesday, I had no energy. I spent a good amount of time walking around in a bit of a daze and taking naps in parks. Still, the weather has been great, I got a good feel for the city, and had quite a bit of fun. I went on a literary pub tour a few nights ago, led by two actors who quoted Robert Burns poetry in the original and passages from other great Scottish writers, and took us to some great pubs. Very funny guys, very good tour. The people here are also very nice, especially the people in the tourism industry (the fellow at the bus station spoke with me for half an hour trying to figure out my plans and in the end saved me over 100 pounds. As a New Yorker I felt like he was going to lose his patience, but he kept going. It has been like that almost everywhere except by the Lake District, where, I have to say, the people were a bit rude and impatient and really not very hospitable. Oh well.
I write in the past tense because after shabbos, I have a 5am bus up to Fort William, where I will attempt to conquer the third, and highest, of the three Peaks. I'll be spending shabbos here in Edinburgh with the community here. They say it is small, but very hospitable.
I have to add that Edinburgh may be one of my favorite cities I have seen so far. It is small, but it really has a great personality.

Edinburgh So Far

It rained the entire morning non-stop today. Finally! I was beginning to think that 'rainy England' was a myth. I didn't have much time to experience the true English weather, as I had a train to Edinburgh at 10 in the morning. Bye bye Merrie Olde England, hello Bonnie Scotland!
When I first arrived in Edinburgh I wasn't crazy about it, but then I was still completely wiped out from yesterday's hike (I didn't sleep very well, but I am not sore!). I checked into my hostel, great place, quiet rooms but lots of facilities... And I walked around the city, I found the shul, the kosher restaurant and bakery (all three closed today), and bought a new backpack (my old one broke in four places and was held together by knots). I still wasn't having a great impression of the city, as I was still exhausted and the weather was still quite bleak. I went back to the hostel to take a nap and, Behold!, everything changed. After an hour I was refreshed, the sun was shining, and I was ready for Edinburgh part 2. I went over to see if I could catch a Literary Pub tour (the Scots are very proud of their native authors, including, be jealous all ye nerds, J K Rowling). The tour was cancelled due to lack of people, but I'll try again tomorrow. Instead I climbed Arthur's seat, the highest point around the city up a very steep and rocky side of the hill (260 meters). The climb up was intense, but it was worth it, especially as the view of the city, with sun setting behind it, was amazing (and I couldn'tget a good picture). I walked through the city back to the hostel, and here I am, showered, drinking tea, and eating Scottish shortbread (with an OU!). I really like Edinburgh.

To the top of Scafell Pike, Despite

This morning I had my last breakfast with my wonderful hosts in Manchester. which, besides for oatmeal, included Marmite, spread on Cream crackers with some hard cheese... Amazing! I apologize for the times I made fun of Marmite.
On the train to Windermere I saw to Asian women having a rapid and intense conversation, in sign language. I don't think I have ever seen anything like it. It was very neat to see these women's hands moving so rapidly in real conversation.
I got to Windermere at 11 or so, and, as I usually do, I went straight to the tourist office and told them that I wanted to climb Scafell Pike, the highest peak in England. The woman behind the counter told me that, because of the limited public transportation today, it couldn't be done. I would need at least 7 hours to climb and the only bus would leave Windermere at 1:10 to arrive at 2:20; the last bus returns to Windermere at 6. Public transportation seemed to be a real obstacle, but I was set on climbing this mountain. I have a train tomorrow morning to Edinburgh, and the only reason I came here was to climb the mountain. Instead of taking public transportation, I went straight to the bike rental place. They told me that I had to return the bike by five, which also would have been impossible, so I got them to let me keep the bike overnight for a bit extra. I then started biking the 14 mile ride through Ambleside and Langdale, the the very end of the road in Langdale, by the Old Dungeon Ghyl hotel. I went into the hotel to refill my water bottle at the bar, and the bartender, a real Northerner with a thick accent and a few missing teeth, told me that he strongly recommends I do not do Scafell Pike as I would need 7 hours to do the climb, and it was already 2. Actually, the lady at the tour office and the bartender didn't just recommend that I stay away from the mountain, they insisted, and told me it would be impossible, but I read about the hike, I had a mapI knew the distances, and I figured they were being a bit over the top. I went anyway.
The hike wasn't too bad, very steepa dn rocky at times, and not as scenic as any of the other hikes I have done so far, but the temperature was decent and I powered ahead. I was surrounded by mountains (small ones mind you, all around 3000 ft), rivers, valleys, and sheep. Tons of sheep. Everywhere. It was kinda cool. The mountain also was not as busy as Snowdon. Anyway, after some fast and intense hiking, I got to the peak at 4 o'clock, in just 2 hours! Then I found out that I went in the wrong direction (the direction booklet contradicts the map and misses a couple of turns) and I was actually on Bowfell Pike, a few miles and across a valley from Scafell. I descended immediately and cut across country, down the valley, through some rivers, up the next range of mountains and along the ridged, up and own, until I finally got the top Scafell at 5:30, still with enough time to get back. By then though, I was pretty wiped out. There were a few young Mancunians at the top as well, and we chatted a bit about climbing while we ate (their eyes went wide as saucers when I told tham about Mt Washington and Piltriquitron, both more than twice as high as Scafell). I descended, getting back to the hotel by 8, and did the return bike ride, getting back to the hostel at 9:05. I kind of feel like going back to those naysayers and telling them, "told you so!" I won't, but this is not the first time that the British have bastly overexaggerated the difficulty of their mountains. Maybe it is because they are all so small and they need to make them sound grander than they are. I'm kind of surprised that the first person to climb Everest was British when all the British seem to be terrified of their tiny mountains. Ah well. The shower in the hostel was amazing, and then I met a few Brasilians and a Colombian, and we chatted for a while. Now, I have to go to bed.

Peak District

I took a train to the Peak District National Park today to do a bit of hiking, and I have to say, it was quite a unique hiking experience. The name of the national park is a bit misleading; there are no real peaks in the park, it is more a collection of hills, none of which top 500 feet (I don't think). Hikers are allowed to roam almost anywhere they want to, and if you go off the beaten trails, which of course I did, the terrain gets interesting. The hilles are covered in this thick rough shrub that provides a thick and springy surface to walk on. The hills are alos covered, however, in peat bogs, which ae extremely cool. They are areas of rotting vegetation, and in consistency are like a cross between mud and quicksand. Amazingly cool stuff when they are out in the open and you can see them and avoid them, but sometimes this rough brush covers a particularly wet and nasty bog, and then you sink in way up past your ankle before you can even think of pulling out. My foot got soaked. The wind was also extremely powerful. At some points I was able to stand 50 degrees from the ground facing the wind, and the wind help me up. I got pushed around quite a bit, and if I were more thin-boned, I'd be flying high as a kite. All those factors together, even though the hike was not particularly steep or rigorous, have me completely exhausted. I met a real Northerner, Tom, who was hiking in the hills as well, and we joined up for a bit. Nice guy, older, getting close to retirement, missing a bunch of teeth and extremely difficult to understand because of his thick, old-school Northern accent. Great day, but draining. I hope I have more energy tomorrow, as I am going to the Lake District National Park (also a misnomer as there is only one lake in the Lake District) to climb Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England.

This past week

It has been a while since I have had access to a proper computer, so I have a lot to catch up on. I'll separate days with paragraph breaks, so if you don't want to read about the entire week in one go you can do it with breaks.

I think I left off with Cardiff. It is a nice place, very smaill for a capital city, but there were some really neat things to do there, including the Cardiff Castle, the modern Millenium Centre, where there was a free percussion concert and the Welsh BAFTAs, and the Doctor Who exhibit in the Red Dragon Centre (The Red Dragon is the symbol of Wales and any country with a dragon as its national symbol must be awesome). The next day I went to Caerphilly, a small town an hour away from Cadiff, where there was a really amazing castle, definitely my favorite of the three I saw. It was the first castle built in the UK with a concentric wall design as was extremely well planned out well fortified. It was such an intimidating castle that it was only ever attacked twice. They also have some of the first ever fully working replicas of Medieval siege weaponry, along with a cool video about the building and testing of each of the four siege engines. There was still plenty of time after the castle, so I went to St Fagans, an open air museum reminiscent of Williamsburg, VA, where people live like they did hundreds of years ago. Most intereting was a replica of an old Celtic town, complete with replica huts, tools, and weapons, and a replica Celtic warrior who gave great lesons in Celtic history, tactics, strategy, and even martial arts.

The next day I went up north to Snowdonia National Park to climb Mount Snowdon, the highest peak in Wales (at a tiny 1085 metres), and the first of what I hope will be my climbing of the Three Peaks (the highest peaks in England, Scotland, and Wales). It ws especially cool as this mountain, in Arthurian myth, is said to be the burial mound of Rhita Gawr, a king who wore a cloak made from the beards of the kings he killed, and who was in turn slain by King Arthur. At the base of the mountain is the Lake where Arthur recieved Excalibur, where he returned Excalibur as he lay dying, and where he sailed off to Avalon. Very neat stuff. The climb, which they said should take 6 hours for a round trip, was very easy; it took me an hour and forty five minutes to get to the top. I took a detour to explore the lake on the way down, otherwise that would have taken an hour and a half at the most.

That night I stayed in Caernarvon, a block an a half away from Wales' most famous castl, which I went to see the next day, Wednesday. Unfortunately it was not as impressive as Caerphilly, and I think I am all castled out. In the early afternon I took a train to Manchester and went to the amazing family that was having me for shabbos; they let me stay by the the entire time I am in the north of England! Wednesday was a short day though, as we did not arrive in Manchester until the late afternoon and by te time I got to the Reuben's house (my hosts) it was already almost 7pm.

Early the next morning I took a train to York, which was a really fascinating city. They have one of Europe's largest and most amazing Cathedrals with the largest collection of intact 13th century stained glass (13th century!) in the world. There was a great free tour of the Cathedral, as well as a great free tour of the city itself. York is a walled town, so first I walked the perimeter along the wall, where I passed by Clifford's Tower,and infamous landmark in Jewish history, where hundreds of Jews took their life instead of converting to Christianity after barricading themselves in the tower in 1190. Interestingly, someone came up to me in the street, presumably after he saw my kippa,asked me if I saw the tower, and then, almost apologetically, told me the episode is York's most shameful moment, and how they gow special magen david shaped flowers there and hold special prayer services and everything. After the wall walk was the Cathedral tour, followed by the city tour. The city tour was led by this great old English lady (very English lady) who had more energy than a little kid, a thick accent, and that English grandma persona. It was really fun having her lead the tour, which she did with great skill and humour. Her greatest moment came when she took us to see sme yew trees, asked if there were any French in th tour, and when one volunteered, said "we beat you at Agincourt, and this is why." However, the best episode of the our was when we got to see the procession o the new Lord Mayor. Everyone wsa dresed upi in fancy-dress, very old fashioned robes, musicians played 14th centruy music on 14th century instruments, the Lord Butler (?) carieda massive sword out in front of him, some other official carried a huge gilt scepter, and the arristers all wore funny wigs, and everyone else wore hats that wouldn't look out of place in a Pirates of the Carribean movie! The British love their pomp and circumstance, and I know it is all supposed to be dignified, but to an American for whom crisp suits are culmination of proper dress, it all seemed quite droll in a ridiculous sort of way. The day ended with a tour of the York brewery, possibly the best brewery tour I have yet been on, where we were given different types of malts (the grain) to taste. Up here in Northern England they take their ale very seriously, insist on it being live, and a bit more bitter than elsewhere. The ale was very good.

On friday I spent the day in Manchester, just walking around most of the city and seeing a relly amazing museum, the MOSI (museum of Science and Industry) and two superb exhibits on scientific breakthroughs in Manchester, including rooms devoted to Dalton and Ruthrford, and an amazing exhibit of fabrics and textiles, which a complete working Victorian cotton factory, with machines that did everything from clean the cotton to making threads. It doesn't sound that amazing, but seeing, on a smaller scale, how all these machines worked, the noise that they made, and the insanely dangerous conditions children as young as five years old had to work under, made it a really fascinating and eye opening experience. The rest of the city was alright, nothing to write home about, though it had its nice bits.

Shabbos, on the other hand, was phenomenal. The Reuben completely opened up teir home to me. We went to an oldr couple for the Frdiay night meal. The both of the ae over 80, and it is the only home I have ever seen where everything was homemade. Everything. The challah. The gefilte fish. Even the wine! It was undelievable that, not only did this older couple host 9 people for dinner, they made everything at the table from scratch. They were, as are my hosts and many of the people I am meeting in Manchester, South African, and over shabbos I have heard more South African accents than Mancunian accents. The rest of the company though, was English. We ate lunch by my hosts, with another South African family coming for lunch, and we had Seudah Shlishit by the hosts daughter and son-in-law. It was yet another great shabbos here in England. It is so great being Jewish; wherever you go, the community justs opens up its arms. Speaking of, if you know of anyone in Scotland, I will be there for this coming shabbos.

Cardiff

Cardiff is a funky place. The first experience I had was in the tourist office, with an unbelievably nice fellow who worked there. I cannot stress how nice he was. It was kind of not normal. He was jumping through hoops to help us at the slightest hints, calling people and looking things up and constantly smiling and saying please before and after every sentence and just nice in a very surreal way. Everyone else here, middle aged and above, was the same way, very very nice and itching to share their culture, history, and language. Weird language too, but awesome. Walking around the parks however, and observing the Youth, you get the feeling that you are in a kind of country hicktown. Droves of disenchanted youth sitting around in the parks drinking and smoking and drinking, talking and looking like they might be from some backwater place like Frederick.
Cardiff, the capital of Wales, is a very nice city, small, quaint and modern at the same time, with a wacky newage cultural center and an old castle that used to be a roman garrison. Overall a very fun city.

Shabbos in London

Shabbos here was as great as Shavuos. The community is extremely warm and open and welcoming, and a lot less 'segregated' by 'type', that is, the modern live in the same place as the chassidish and the yekkish and the yeshivish and everyone seems to get along splendidly. the meals were just smashing, both because of the food and theg great company. I've met so many people, so many different people from different levels of observance and even different countries (many South Africans and even a slovak!) and they are all really friendly and genuinely interesting people.
Tomorrow I'm off to Wales! And the weather continues to be amazing.

Shavuos in London

I have wanted to visit London for about 22 years now, so when I finally arrived, 2 hours early, at four thirty in the morning on tuesday, it was a dream come true. I took a bus from Paris that drives into a train, which takes it through the chunnel, and then drives to London from Dover. I took the overnight bus so that I did not waste a day; theoretically, I would have slept on the bus and woke up, refreshed and ready to see London at 6:30 the next morning. However, between having to spend an hour going through customs at 3am and meeting all sorts of fun people (an israeli, and australian, a french expat among them) I got maybe half an hour of sleep. Arriving 2 hours early did not help much, and besides for depriving me of sleep, I had to walk around with all my stuff for two hours before I could go to Golders green, where I would be staying. The upside, however, was that I saw some of the most touristy areas of London empty, at sunrise, ehich was ana amazing experience, and one that would never have happened otherwise (no matter how early you wake up, the Tube only wakes up at 5:30).
At 6:30 I took the tube to golders Green, where I was met by Avi Friedmann (thanks Ephraim) who is having me at his house for my time here (he, along with everyone else I've met here, is amazingly hospitable). After dropping my stuff off I went into the city and walked around in a kind of exhausted daze, seeing a lot but not really processing that much, though I have to say I did kind of like the Tate Britain (all the museums here are free!!!) and I love the policemen's hats.
The first night of Yomtov I spent at the Van Messels,cousins of Sarah Weill (this seems to be turning into the Weill family tour; thanks Sarah!) who were amazing. hey daven at a very Yekish shul, which reminded me of the shul I went to in Belgranom but they say all the piyutim (torture).We started eating at around 11 or so, and I hadn't slept for almost two days, but still the food was amazing (and milchig!).
The next day I went to a shul that was pretty much a larger version of Rabbi Friedman's shul in Queens, complete with the Oomayn prunciation, same nigunim, streimels and white hose, and there was even someone who said "I'll kille m" at v'al kulam. Ah the memories. And, the Matjes herring was the best I ever had!
I ate lunch by the Barron's (thanks Safta), their two daughters, son-in-law, granddaughter, and his mother, a very nice family (the baby is amazingly cute and terrified of grass) and stupendous cooks. Stupendous. I ate by them that night as well. The next day I had lunch back at the Van Messel's, but I was not going to sit through that davening again, so I went to the JLE, the Ohr Samayach shul here. The rabbi came up to me and got me a place for shabbos lunch, and everyone was really very friendly. Lunch today was great, again with great food and great company, including mister Van Messel's brother and parents, and I hung out all day by their house, talking and playing games with the kids, which was rather fun. Now I am here, a bit tired, writing, in a very abridged version, about the last 48 hours, one of the best shavuots I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. England is turning out to be a great experience!

The biggest head, great weapons, and a concert

Yesterday I went to the Invalides, to see Napoleon's tomb and the Musee de Armee.
I must say that I was blown away by Napolaon's tomb; I know that he is France's greatest general, possibly the greatest Frecnh military leader since Charlemagne who has not been preceded, or followed, by any great military leaders, but a tomb like that for one guy... It seemed a bit ridiculous, as if all of France's national pride has been invested in this one monument. His grave is...huge. It's just obscenely huge and ornate and, I have to imagine, wildly expensive. It was a beautiful building and very impressive, but the thought that this is a bit much for just one guy just hung out in the back of my mind the whole time.
The connected Musee de Armee, however, was amazing. Remember when I said that Buenos Aires had the greatest arms museum ever? Well, I take it back. This museum was amazing, with the armor and weapons of actual nobles, great and exhaustive exhibits of warfare in every time period, especially Medieval Europe, Renaissance Europe, Revolutionary and Napoleonic France, and the most amazing WW1 and WW2 exhibits ever. Some of the weaponry on display was amazingly cool, like a combination boar spear/ wheelock pistol. They also had a great exhibit on the Hundred Years War, especially on John Froissart's chronicles of the war (part of which I read for a Covington paper) which was so extensive I spent hours reading, not leaving enough time for the rest of the museum. Maybe I'll go back.
On the way back I saw a poster for a string ensemble concert that would be playing Mozart, Pachelbel, and Vivaldi's Four Seasons. The concert was awesome, of course, but what was maybe more awesome was that when I went to buy the ticket at the Eglise St Germain du Pres, located in Sartre and Beauvoir Square, there was a marching band on the corner playing the Looney Tunes theme!
Speaking of street corners, they have something amazing here in Paris.
No, not that! On many of the street corners in the city there are hundreds of these small buildings, really just a free standing room. These little edifices are free public toilets! Everywhere! But it gets better. After each person finishes, the door closes and the toilet is cleaned, and not just the seat; the door closes and the entire room is sprayed and cleaned between each use! A sensor in the floor detects the weight of a person so it knows when not to run the clean cycle. How cool! It totally beats the self-cleaning toilet seat in Zurich, though the first place for nicest public bathroom ever goes to Bryant Park. Seriously, if you have not been to the bathroom in Bryant Park you are missing out.
All is good for Shavuos, I am sufficiently set up, though it took most of the day by the computer to get that done. Thanks to all who helped! I'll be in Paris for another few days and then it's off to London!
Have a great shabbos!

Montparnasse and Luxembourg

Wednesday was so far the only sunny day we've had, and I spent it walking around in the Parc du Luxembourg, and amazingly beautiful park right by the place I am staying. The parks and public buildings in Paris, for the most part, used to be private gardens and palaces of the insanely wealthy nobility, opened to the public after said nobility lost everything in the revolution, including their heads, so these public spaces are especially nice.
I wrote a bit about Wednesday's meeting in the market and the top of the Tour Montparnasse last week, so I will skip to Thursday. I was introduced to a friend of a friend who showed me around the Montmartre neighbor, the location of both the Moulin Rouge and the 'Amelie' cafe, a movie I have not seen but that everyone tells me is iconic. If you say so. It is also the location of the Cathedral Sacre Couer, the newest and second most iconic Cathedral in Paris. As always, the building was amazing, and the area was packed with tourists.

Cimitiere Pere Lachaise

On Tuesday I walked to the largest, and perhaps most famous cemetary in Paris to see the graves of some of the greatest cultural figures ever to have died in Paris, including Jim Morrison, Gertrude Stein, Frederick Chopin, Marcel Proust, Honore de Balzac, Eugene DeLacroix, and of course, Oscar Wilde. Judging by his grave, he has to be the most popular dead guy in the world.
The cemetary is huge, and they do not give out maps, but luckily I met an Israeli girl who had a map, and we hung out together at the cemetary. We even attended the funeral of a ballet dancer who, judging from the size and pomp of the send-off, must have been very popular.

Paris

I've been really bad with blogging of late, but I will try to get back on it.
Last week on Sunday Gerard and Marisa, cousins of my grandfather, picked me up from the train station. I had taken a TGV (high-speed) train from Strasbourg to Paris, where I sat next to and had a long conversation with a very nice and friendly Parisien.
The LeClairs took me out to eat, insisting on paying, which was the start of what has been the most hospitable stay in a foreign city that I have ever experienced. After lunch we drove around Paris and saw all of the famous sites, a grand tour that I replicated by foot the next day, despite the consistently terrible weather. We went out to dinner as well, where I had a very good Chukkus plate, and then went to bed early (or tried to; jet lag was killing me).
On Monday I spent the day walking almost all of Paris, seeing, from the outside, almost everything there is to see, though I did go into the Pantheon where I saw the graves of Rousseau and Voltaire. I also got to join a tour after I was able to quote Guy de Moupassant (I quoted him but I don't think I can spell his nale correctly). The guide was really psyched that an American barbarian knew something about French literature; it was kind of funny. The French are very proud of their history, language, and culture, and they fight tooth and nail (or try to) to protect it.

Shabbos in Strasbourg

Shabbos was amazing. I was in Strasbourg, a small city and the capital of Alsace in Estern France, right along the border with Germany. I was hosted by the Kahns, whose eldest son is a fiance of a friend (Thanks Sarah!) The family is amazing, but let's keep things in order. When I first arrived in the city after an uneventful 3 hour train ride from Zurich, I dropped my bags off at the Kahn's apartment and took a walk. The weather was terrible (and remained so for days) but I saw the EU Parliament and Human Rights building, and the very nice Parc de l'Orangerie, which has beautifully landscaped flozer gardens, a lake with swans and a waterfall, and pigeons that are actually scared of humans! It was a bit sad to see such a bird that is so tough and macho in NYC so scared and helpless, but what can I say; this is France.
When I returned to the house I got to meet the family. Besides Andre, the eldest son, who amazing and spet hours showing me the city, they have three younger kids. The eldest girl, 9, spent all of shabbos trying to teach me some French and learn English. The second sister, age 7, was very shy, and the youngest boykept talking even though I had no idea what he was saying. The parents were extremely hospitable and friendly, and if all European Jews are like them I won't have any problems during this trip. She was really open and welcoming and his sense of humor was worse than Uncle Larry's. I loved it. (Family joke).
Besides all the normal shabbos things, Andre and I took a long walk in the city, a very old city (founded in 12 bce, though looking very young, postively Medieval), and it's main highlight, a magnificent Cathedral that rivals Notre Dame in Paris.

Catch Up

Well, it has only been five days since my last post, but I have a lot of catching up to do, but before I go back to shabbos in Strasbourg, I want to write about something interesting that happened today. To put it in context, I have to mention the rhetoric that is not so uncommon that says that the Palestinians want the Jews out of Israel because they are anti-Semites and don't like Jews, that they are "Amalek" and want to kill us. It may sound extreme, but I have heard it more than twice. To the story:
Today I went to the top of Tour Montparnasse, probably the best view of Paris, and when I exited I saw a street market. Of course, being obsessed with food I wandered around, salivating over the cheeses, meats, fish, and all of the other items that make up a gourmands dreams but a kosher-keeping Jew's nightmares. Of course, the fruits and vegetables are A-OK, so I decided to buy some. The vendor did not speak any English, but with pointing and knowing how to say 'demi-kilo' I was able to communicate what I wanted. He saw my kippah (yes, I am wearing a kippah; France is anti-Semitic, but it is not as bad as people make it out to be), gave me a huge smile, and said "Shalom!" I thought he may have been Israeli, wouldn't have been the first I met, so I said back "Atah medaber Ivrit" (you speak Hebrew)? He responded, "Mah shlomcha, Baruch Hashem!" Clearly, he did not speak Hebrew either. With some rudimentary French I asked him where he was from, and he said, Palestine, Gaza. He has been in Paris three years, and seems to be glad to be here.
That was the end of our interaction, but I wondered, if all of these people hate us so much, why would he go out of his way to engage me in a friendly manner? Sure, it was a crowded area, he can't express his hatred, but then t least give me my fruit brusquely and then be done with it. Of course, I never bought into that rhetoric of hatred, but it was nice to see some real proof.

Zurich and the Sauters

The great thing about not having plan is that they cannot unexpectedly change. Instead of going straight to Paris from Zurich, which was my original idea, there were no Eurail Pass seats available before the weekend, so I am going straight to Strasbourg for shabbos (Thanks Sarah!), and then going to Paris from there on Sunday. This actually worked out really well, as it gave me sometime to relax (jetlag is killing me) and to see the city.
Zurich is really nice. It is the biggest city in Switzerland, but still pretty small, with a population in the hundreds of thousands. What it lacks in people though, it makes up for in amazing architecture. And a beautiful lakefront with parks and fountains and a ferris wheel. And a really charming old city with cobblestones and buildings that go as far back as the Roman Empire, though the Roman buildings are really just ruins. The city is really gorgeous, as is, I assume, most European cities. There is a river that cuts right through the city and empties into the Zurichsee (lake), and swans glide up and down the river and into the lake, where you can see the snow covered Alps in the distance. It's all a bit surreal. The weather is also beautiful; it is warm, around 85, not too humid, and not a cloud in the sky. There were tons of people out sunbathing on the lawns and by the water, and walking along the cobblestoned streets of the old city. So far a great start to the trip.
The Sauters, parents of close friends of the family, are also amazing people. Not only are they insanely hospitable and ridiculously accommodating, hey are also extremely intelligent and great conversationalist. Over dinner (and after) we talked about European and American history and politics, Jungian psychology, Einstein's life, Jewish history of the Inquisition, Spinoza, Jewish theology, theology in general, and the etiology of cancer. All in one sitting, with appropriate segues and everything. If al Europeans can converse like that, I may move here; also med school is a thousand Franks a year, as opposed to my 60,000 dollars a year. Jeez, they have it good!
Tomorrow morning I am off to Strasbourg for shabbos, and then on Sunday I am going to Paris, after which I will return to Switzerland. Until next time!

Arrived

I landed in Zurich at 8:26 am local time. The city, from what Ihave seen so far, is beautiful. I was picked up from the airport by friends of the family, amazing people, and I am in their ridiculously amazing house right now. There are shelves of books lining all the walls, an apple tree, a cherry tree, tons of books, a garden, an amazing den with a big piano, and tons of books everywhere. Of course, being in Switzerland, it is also very clean and organized. And there are shelves of books.
I almost did not make the flight, first because I did not have a return ticket, though in the end my Railpass sufficed. Then, the flight to Phillly, where I was supposed to conncet to Zurich, was delayed, but we got there just in time for boarding.
Nothing much to say yet about Europe; haven't seen much ineresting yet, though the Swiss airport is quite something. Clean, organized, pretty advanced with all kinds of fancz projected screens and sounds (you can hear cows mooing on the inter-terminal rail), but with a baggage carousel that looks like it is from a regional airport in Argentina.
The Swiss keyboard is annoying as the Z and Y key are switched; it takes a while to type up a blogpost when zou need to paz attention to everzthing zou are doing on the kezboard. If I type normallz the word yebra comes out completely misspelled.

Off to Europe!

It's been a while since my last post. I guess that's mostly because nothing interesting has been going on recently. I've had a couple of adventures and good times here and there, like when I biked to Baltimore, or all of Pesach, which was really nice, or the two Shabbatot I spent in QC this semester, but overall it's been either work or just bumming around. Well, today that changes. In a few hours my Mom will be taking me to LaGuardia, where I will get on a plane for Zurich. No, I have no idea what I am doing in Europe, or how long I will be there. Actually, not knowing what to expect, and not really knowing where I will be or what I will do, not having done much research, makes this trip a bit intimidating. In theory, of course, this type of trip is supposed to be super flexible and free, and allow for more fun, which I am sure it will, but right now it's just a tad scary. For the next month or two I have no plans; my life in front of me a complete void on a continent I have never been to (except Hungary). In my mind, I know it will be fun, but I guess it is not knowing what it is that will be fun is the intimidating part. It's also what makes this trip more of an adventure and not a vacation, though the fact that there is nothing that I need a vacation from also helps. I think the fact that I am not able to do the Europe trip that I really wanted to do, by bike, is a bit of a bummer also, but I am not ruling out coming back a little earlier if my knee starts behaving and doing a biking trip in the States.
Well, I have to finish up packing. The next post will come from the other side of the Atlantic!

The Superbowl and the Emasculation of the American Male

I have a confession to make. The 44th Superbowl was my first Superbowl ever. Actually, it was really my first football game ever. The Superbowl is probably one of the single most iconic American events of the year, right up there with the Fourth of July, so I guess I've been missing out on an essential part of our culture. I have to concede that, though I do not follow any sports, and I won't stat now, the game itself was pretty entertaining, and there were some massively good plays (and just plain massive players). However, I've always heard that the best part of the Superbowl are the commercials. Corporations vie for prime slots during the game, and second are measured out in the hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was sorely disappointed.
First of all, none of the commercials were clever, witty, or even remotely interesting; I'm not a big fan of commercials in the first place (perhaps one day I will rant about them) and these were no exception. There was not one redeeming quality to any of the commercials this year. I did, however, notice something quite interesting. At least three of the commercials (I think there was another one, maybe two) were based on the American male losing his 'gender role.' I won't get into what that role is right now, but I don't think I need to (I actually have a picture of a Dockers billboard commercial that illustrates what I am saying on Facebook). Car companies to wireless providers tried to sell there products by saying that men should fight back and demand certain 'manly' pleasures, strongly implying that the American male is swiftly becoming emasculated, and these benevolent corporations want to help. It was, frankly, weird. I have no idea where this idea came from, and I don't even know if it is true, if feminists will rejoice, if men really care, etc. It just stood out for me.
The funniest add, I think, followed the stages of a man's life, highlighting all the manly responsibilities he had and then, almost as if giving men permission, tells the audience that men deserve skin care. Buy Dove MANLY skin care products.
And a Post-Script: The Who were a great band. Their songs are iconic and they were revolutionary, but the performance tonight was actually sad to watch. They looked as though they were on their last legs (though the light show was cool). Why don't they get contemporary artists for these shows, or at least a band who aren't yet members of AARP.

I'm Back

Sorry for the very long delay in updates; for any of you still reading, I went to California right after the last post and then to Puerto Rico a few days after that. I did not have a computer in either of those places, and I just got back yesterday. Both trips were awesome (though not quite on the level of 2.5 months in Argentina), but since I have a huge backlog of stories to write from all three trips, and, of course, everything that is going on now, I am going to randomly switch around what I write about. Things may not be in chronological order.
Meanwhile, I am now back in NY for the month of February, working to make some more money for the next phase of traveling. Speaking of, I am not yet sure where I will go. Obviously, finances play a huge role in my decision making process; if I had (much) more money I would spend 3 or 4 (or more) months in Europe. I'm looking for cheaper suggestions however, and I am definitely up for advice. Do any of my faithful readers have suggestions for a penurious pilgrim?

The Hotel Lobby of South America

Puerto Madryn, a Welsh settlement, is the marine life capital of the country. Sea mammals flock from north and south to the milder temperatures of Peninsula Valdes to mate, kind of like how frum singles flock to hotel lobbies to date. Just like the hotel lobbies, besides for the love-scene, not much goes on in Puerto Madryn. When I arrived, I went straight to the tour offices to find a wildlife tour that could have me in and out of Peninsula Valdes that day in an attempt to avoid staying in Puerto Madryn overnight. Unfortunately, our bus arrived in the town at 8, just as all of the tours were leaving. I was a little disappointed at first, but I then made a decision that taught me a great travel lesson; when you are stuck somewhere with nothing really to do, rent a bike and explore. After finding a hostel and taking my first shower of the trip, that is exactly what I did. I rented a mountain bike and biked down the coast (Puerto Madryn is on the Atlantic), to a sea lion colony, where I stopped to have lunch and watch the wildlife. Sea lions behave very differently in their natural habitat than in zoos, and watching them that day I understood why they have lion in their name. The males each have harems that they protect with tenacity and ferocity; one impetuous young troublemaker continually tried to encroach on one of his elder's harem until, finally, the older sea lion had enough and drove the youngster into the ocean; he did not allow the fellow to come back to land for almost an hour. At one point a number of fights broke out amongst the males, fierce fights where each lion attempted to bite the other's head off. They must have been making too much noise though, because the leader of the pack, a massive old sea lion easily twice the size of most of his subjects lumbered out of a small cave and roared, which quieted the rowdy sea lions immediately. It was quite a sight and quite a lesson in discipline (though anyone who can roar like that can easily command obedience).
After lunch I left the sea lion colony and did some fun dirt biking in a cluster of steep but shot hills outside of town (it was me and a motorcyclist; he was going faster of course, but the hills were steep enough that I was able to pick up a surprising and sometimes frightening speed). After I returned the bike I walked around town exploring, got a haircut, and bought some food, before I returned to the hostel for another shower and dinner, followed by a fruitless search for some sort of nightlife with two French travelers before I went to bed (a little early; the wildlife tour would begin early in the morning).