My Goodness, My Guinness

In the morning I finally checked myself out of Palmer's Lodge and took a bit of flack from the girls that worked the front counter as they had come to know me like part of the furniture around the hostel. They seemed upset to see me go.

I took the tube to the Euston train station and waited for the departure of my train towards Holyhead. The train trip was about 4 hours long and was probably one of my favourite journeys so far because of how quiet and un-crowded the train cars were.

When we got to Holyhead it was time to switch up on to the ferry which would take me to Dublin. On my way towards to ferry check-in a guy saw my Canadian flag patch and had to inquire where I was from. Turns out the guy, Corbin, was from Saskatoon and was on his way to Dublin as well. I now had something to help me pass the time on the ferry. We were both a bit afraid of the ferry ride as we had both only paid £26 for the whole train and ferry ride journey. When you try to book a ferry separate it usually amounts to £20 just by itself, so I started to wonder what kind of leaky tub they were going to set us up on. It turned out to be quite the other way around. The ferry was something that I imagine is used in pleasure cruises.

Once the ferry made port we hopped on a bus into the city center and started the search for our hostels. Mine was pretty close to the central train station where as Corbin's was a bit further out. We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet up later for some drinks. My hostel was a bit on the nice side of things...too nice actually. It was lacking a major feature which is essential for meeting people in hostels which is a common room with a or some comfy couches. Basically just a place where folks will chill out and you can chat. So, I guess making friends here was going to be a bit tougher. Turns out it wasn't too bad. Several of my roommates were great to talk with and pass the time, but didn't seem to be big on the Guinness drinking.

I met up with Corbin in the evening and we headed out for the fabled night spot area of Dublin called Temple Bar. Actually, we were pretty stupid and thought temple bar was the name of an actual bar (which it is) and only found out later that the whole area is called temple bar as well. For being a monday night we weren't expecting too much of a busy night life. We were quite surprised to see that the whole place was packed and busy and made for a friendly and enjoyable night out.

The next day we both agreed to set out on a bus tour around Dublin and end off the day with a visit to the Guinness storehouse. The tour was quite informative and proved to be worth the money, much like the one Jeff and I used in Brussels. The Guinness storehouse was of course the highlight of our day, but it ended up being not all that interesting. The price was more then I would pay for any normal museum and wasn't nearly as interesting. The good part was they finish off your tour with a pint in the bar at the top of the factory which has a (almost) 360 degree view of Dublin. That evening we hit up temple bar again for a fun time, but it was an early night as Corbin was leaving for Galway to start working.

I was back on my own wandering around Dublin and checked out some more sights like Trinity College, St.Patricks Cathedral, Phoenix Park. I also took the time to book into a 6 day all Ireland tour called the Paddywagon which didn't depart until the day after. So I had a pretty boring day before my tour started as I didn't have anything to really see or do as I felt I had done everything I wanted to. I instead did a lot of reading and people watching in one of the parks and some more wandering around the city ensued. I turned in really early as I had to get up very early for my tour bus which would take me on the most interesting ride of my life. The next 6 days would find me befriending some of the craziest and funniest people I've met to date.

The Flying Dutchman and I are going straight to hell

The days following Jeff's departure were usually made up of me doing some sights that I didn't get to see the first two times around (Mainly the Tower of London where I got to see the crown jewels) and devising my next step.

I got a bit of a scare one day while hanging out in the TV room of the hostel while I was reading. I was kind of eave strapping in on a conversation between two German girls (yes they were speaking in German, so I guess I was only half eave strapping). My next thought was to join in and introduce myself (as I have the huge German girl fetish), but as I looked up I gave myself a bit of a startle. One of the girls looked quite similar to a German girl that had caused me a lot of grief in Australia (readers from my last blog will remember her, as I wrote about her quite regularly. I shall refer her as Freya for privacy reasons this time around). The face was similar, especially the nose and even the small things like the shoes she wore were exactly the same as those that Freya wore when I first met her. I know it sounds weird to remember things such as that, but I have tenancy to remember useless facts which explains my limited brain capacity in other areas. After noticing such similarities I decided against getting involved in their conversation and just walking away. I know it was not the same girl, but just the scare of mistaking her for Freya for a split second was too much for me to deal with at the current time. This brings me just one step closer to the possibility that I may have to deal with the real Freya one day. It could be a reality seemings as how we ran into each other randomly 5 different times throughout Australia after our initial meeting, and Australia's landmass rivals that of the United States. Germany is quite smaller on the landmass front. For now I'll take this as a warning of what I could be encountering in the future, but I will not let it get in the way of my trip.

Just as I was figuring out that Ireland was going to be the next destination and I started to research the money and time involved getting up there, I ended up receiving a message from my dutch buddy, Bjorn whom I know from Australia. Turns out he was headed out to London for a weeks vacation and was wondering if I was still going to be there. I couldn't turn down this opportunity to see Bjorn again, so I put my Ireland plans on the back burner and awaited Bjorn's arrival.

Bjorn wasn't due to arrive until late Friday night so Luke, Chris (another ozzy) and Anne (an American girl who lives in Scotland) all went out to this Australian pub called the Walkabout (which I believe I've written about before, but this is a different walkabout located just down the street from our hostel). This place was going off. Tons of people having a great time and we all got a chance to join in. I promptly wore my "Kiss me I'm Canadian" T-shirt to distinguish my from the Ozzy and Kiwi folks to frequent this bar. One of the female bartenders made a point of giving me a kiss everytime I ordered a drink, so I guess in practice the shirt works. I got a message from Bjorn when he arrived at our hostel so I made the quick walk back to the place to meet up with him and then promptly bring him down to the walkabout to meet the group. Just like old times we were together drinking and sharing the stories of what we did with the rest of our Australian journey and the 2 years after our returns home. This probably ended up being one of the more memorable nights in London to this point.

On Sunday morning Bjorn and I had made plans to goto a bar called "The Church" which is only open on Sundays from noon until 4pm. We had to line up for an hour and a half just to get in. Once we got in it was just a complete party. Drinks were bought in plastic bags of 3 and there was plenty of entertainment to keep everyone going for the day. We had heard a lot of great things about this place, it had strippers and wet t-shirt contests and all that, so I had my hopes set real high only to kind of be let down. I had a lot of fun and the place delivered on the strippers and wet t-shirt competition, but (as sad as this sounds) I saw much more lewd acts in Australian backpacker bars, so all of this seemed a bit tame to me. A great time was still had by all. After everyone gets kicked out at 4pm they all congregate at the Walkabout in the sheppards bush area (also known as She-bu). Bjorn and I made the very drunk journey only to find that it really wasn't worth it. It was just a super packed bar to the point where it was quite difficult to move around. While some may think that's a great time, I think it's a bit silly if I have to take 20 minutes to go from the dance floor to the bar. We packed it in and headed back home where we thought we'd have a quiet evening.

The quiet evening was out of the question. We met a bunch of new people in the hostel bar that night and kept going (yep, way too much drinking. I know). I met a girl from San Francisco named Hilary (I took it upon myself to only call her San Fran all night) who was trying to convince me to drop all of my plans (like I had any) and leave to Israel in the morning with her. While I had to decline this offer, I did actually put some thought into it just because she had a bit of a cuteness factor to her. We continued the evening playing UNO and Jenga until the bar closed up. We continued the madness by moving into the quiet room with a bottle of rum and coke. I stayed up til about 3am and finally thought that this day has to end at some point.

Bjorn convinced me to goto a football game with him as it is something you should experience while in England. He found a local team playing that wouldn't charge an arm and a leg for tickets called Millwall. We made the long journey (which funny enough had us goto the "Canada Water" tube station) and got our selves some tickets. We took up our seats in the general section and took in the mayhem that is football hooligans. The amount of police presence at a football game is absolutely amazing. Even the fact that the fans of the visiting team had to sit in a separate section away from all the home team fans was kind of crazy. All in all it was a great experience with some of the rowdiest fans I've ever seen at any sporting event.

Later in the week I went to the walkabout (it became a favourite hangout) with Luke to watch some of the Rugby world cup action. We saw the New Zealand vs Italy game and Australia vs Japan. After all was said and done we went back to the hostel and took part in a huge BBQ and watched the England vs Israel football match. I had made plans to goto the church with him the next day so I was going to call it in early evening to get my rest. This did not happen. I ended up meeting some more American folks (2 girls from California and a guy from New York). We ended up having quite the conversation for a few hours and I started to fall for Erin, one of the Cali girls. That was until she expressed her over-whelming desire for some weed. Which brings me to another pet peeve. I don't mind what people do and don't do, but what bothers me is when people clearly have the addiction thing going and have to express how much they need to drink/smoke/whatever. It's just an unattractive trait when people feel the "need" for some kind of substance such as those.

So with my attraction to Erin lasting all of about 20 minutes, I left them to go on their hunt for weed while I stayed behind and began a new conversation with 2 Spanish girls and 2 Belgian girls. Okay, I lied. The conversation was mainly between me and the Spanish girls and the 2 Belgians couldn't speak English. This was a real shame as I tried my hardest to muster up any French I could remember to try and talk with the extremely beautiful Belgian girl, Emilie. Just to put in perspective how cute this girl was, I thought she was a cross between Keira Knightly and Winona Ryder. Almost on cue, 2 French guys arrived out of no where and I was able enlist the help of one of them to play my interpreter for the evening. Back and forth Emilie and I talked through our new interpreter and quickly I found myself becoming really smitten with this girl. She kept giving me those cute smiles and shyly looking away only to quickly look up to see if I was still smiling at her. oh, it was just too cute, but we knew there was nothing we could really do as we were lost without someone to translate our thoughts and feelings. After 2 hours of this I felt I had to end it and go off to bed. I had my translator inform Emilie that I thought she was very beautiful and sweet and apologize to her for my inability to speak to her myself all evening. He did just that and she gave me hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. I'm also finding that in my attempt to romance these women I never ever get a picture of them (probably because my mind is on other things). I need a sticky note to remind me: Take plenty of pictures of the pretty girls!!!

It was time to leave London finally. I felt I was getting no where fast in this expensive city and needed a change of scenery. Ireland became the country of choice for the next leg of my journey.

Onward! To the Guinness brewery!

London III (London the 3rd)

Sometime in the early hours of the morning of our last day in Edinburgh I was awakened by the return of our roommates, two welsh girls. Now this is usually not a big deal as I rolled over to go back to sleep. As I was just about to nod off I heard the two girls arguing a bit, so this disrupted my return to my slumber so I thought I'll just ride it out and maybe they'll shut up once they get back into bed. I suppose it wasn't all bad as one of them seemed to have no problem stripping down to nothing without closing the curtains. I suppose a rude awakening for a bit of a show is something I can live with (call me a pervert all you like, but any guy would've done the same thing).

Once morning arrived I began to pack my things as Jeff had already packed up his belongings and was waiting on me. The girls woke up as well and resumed their angry banter with each other. One of them left to get a shower so I was left in the room with the one who gave me the free show. We started chatting for a bit as I shoved the last few items into my bag. The gorgeous girl jumps out of bed revealing that she isn't wearing that much at to do a bit of a morning stretch. At this point I now feel bad for staring and felt it was best if I double my efforts and leave in more of a hurry before she starts to think I'm strange.

Jeff and I now had 3 hours before our train was to depart. We sat around the train station, sitting on our bags, and I did what I enjoy best when I'm bored and in a very busy public place. I started to people watch. I'm not sure what it is about places like train stations and airports that make me happy. Maybe it's the gateway to adventure bit, or maybe it is the fact that you can watch people from all over the world and all walks of life passing through one building. People watching in these places always brings up a good question though, why is there so much hate in the world? in the train station all I saw was people over joyed to see a family member or loved one walk through the gates towards them, or people who were sad to see someone go. There's a lot emotions in buildings like these.

Finally we had reached a time when we could board our train and take off back to London for the 3rd time. Jeff and I were separated on the train this time. He was at one table across the aisle from my table and we would both have to endure a family of 3 at both of our table seats for the whole journey. It reminded me of the game "Freak roulette" that we used to play on the bus rides home from school. Essentially the rules were you had to sit in a different seat from all of your friends on the bus and see which stranger sits beside you. Whoever gets the biggest freak, lost. I know it sounds horrible, but keep in mind we were teenagers at the time. If we were playing the game on the train this day then it was clear that I lost big time. I was with a family from the middle east somewhere, which didn't bother me at first but then there young daughter (maybe 5 years old) started to get anxious. This always bothers me no matter what form of transportation I'm taking. Parents seem to think their young kids will just behave themselves for 6 or 7 hours on a train or Plane with nothing to do. Give me a break. Don't act all surprised when they start misbehaving and crying. They are kids and they are bored to tears! Gah! Just one of my travel pet peeves I suppose.

The train ride was uneventful until near the end of the trip. Some lady missed her stop and started to get all grouchy and mean. It turns out she missed the next stop after that as well and went off the handle. Thankfully there is train security to deal with people such as this. I suppose the fact that she had consumed a few beers didn't help her. What a twit.

The rest of the ride went smoothly sans the fact that we ended up arriving about an hour later then we had been told. No biggie. I just wanted to check into a hostel so I could dump my bag.
We found it quite quickly and easily, but immediately we were not pleased. The place was a bit of a hole and was really expensive because of it's proximity to the Notting Hill Carnivale that would be started the next day (the one that we had no idea was going on until we tried to return from Edinburgh). We shelled out the money and found that the hostel was split into two sections. The black peoples section and the white people section. Jeff still insists that they were Pimps and whores on that side and that I'm naive just because I couldn't see a feathered hat out of the whole bunch. Thankfully we had good roommates. The rest of the building lived up the garbage reputation. I found only one toilet in the whole building and the showers were more like a hose taped to the wall. Now I've been to my fair share of hostels between Australia and here, so I believe it's safe for me to say that this is truly the worst hostel I have stayed at. I wish could hand out some award to them. This prompted Jeff and I to search for a new hostel after our two nights near Hyde Park were done.

The next day we decided to check out what this whole carnival thing was and found it didn't seem to be too spectacular except for an excuse to drink (like you need one in England). We ended up spending our day in Hyde Park relaxing in the sun as it happened to be the most beautiful day we've seen out here. I went on to tan my arms up a bit and Jeff's face got the brunt of the sun to leave a nice line where his bandanna was.

In the evening we headed back to the Famous 3 Kings pub in west kensington for the cheap food, and so Jeff could check to see if his cute waitress was working. I didn't see her, but the food was still cheap and exactly what we needed.

The next day we checked out and went in search of our new hostel up in the Swiss Cottage area, Palmer's Lodge. Somewhere inbetween booking the place and getting up there neither of us had bothered to write down the address. I guess I'll take the blame on this one as it was my idea to hit up this hostel. So we wandered around the Swiss cottage area for about half an hour until a friendly couple asked us if we needed help (again, we get help without asking for it. Such friendly people). They point us in the right direction, but just to be on the safe side I decide that we should hit up an internet cafe to double check the address for sure. We get everything sorted and find our way to the hostel only to think that maybe we walked right by it (and it wouldn't surprise me if we did).

When we check in and get to our room we end up meeting our new roommates. One particular fellow is an Ozzy guy named Luke. We make some small talk for a bit until we decide to all meet in the hostel bar in the basement (Yay for hostel bars). We do just that and find that we all get along quite well. This just proves the point that Ozzies and Canadians mix real well and I'll bet in mainly has to do with our laid back natures.

The next morning I wake up early to go to the train station with Jeff where he catches a train to the airport to fly home. It was sad seeing him go. We had gotten along pretty well the last two weeks. I mean there were no fights or disagreements and when we did have a tussle it was usually laughed off or forgotten real easily. These were traits that I knew I would never find in a travel buddy again. If it weren't for Jeff then I probably wouldn't have had to chance to see places like Paris, Brussels and Edinburgh so soon into my trip, but I'm very thankful that I have. I can't imagine how my trip would've gone so far if it weren't for this guy and I owe him a lot. Maybe a few drinks when I return.

Now it was time to get serious. Being back on my own meant it was time to start following the signs and hope that they will lead me to what I'm searching for.

Edinburgh: Where people perpetually recover from the night before

We got our train with no worries, as per usual.

The best part was that we were able to snag ourselves a seat at which there is table in the middle and two chairs on either end. Because of this (and the fact that no one else took the other seats) we were able to kick off our shoes and put our feet up. It was a 5 hour train ride afterall.

The ride up had to have been filled with some of the best scenery I've seen yet, especially once you enter Scottland. One the way I noticed not one, but two ill placed golf courses. One was right beside and I mean right smack-dab beside the train tracks we were on (I can imagine the golf balls either smashing through train windows or worse yet, ricocheting off the train and possible hurting another golfer?) The second ill-fated golf course was place right next to a drop off cliff into the ocean. Insert any and all jokes about water hazzards that you like in this section.

On the way up I was reading a backpacker magazine and happened to stumble across an article on a festival that was up and coming in London. It happened to start the day after we were due to head back down to the foggy city. I knew that this could spell trouble for trying to find accomodation, but we brushed it off in our usual manor of "we'll figure it out later." And figure it out later is what we'll do, so we wont' worry about it in this entry.

We disembarked off the train and found that the hostel we had booked was quite literally across the street. I was happy... no, I was Over joyed to see that this hostel had a bar built into it. It was everything that I ever wanted in a hostel. I was missing the days of bars in hostels since I had gotten home from australia and was kind of disappointed to see that not many hostels out here do that... until now.

We checked into our room and Jeff had about 30 minutes to find his way to the Shins concert. This would prove difficult as he had no idea where they were playing. I opted out and decided to explore the fringe festival instead. It was certainly a great time. So many street preformers and stalls set up to sell you crap you don't need, but at that moment you think you want it. Even all the pubs along the way were absolutly packed. I came across a sign advertising a tour of a place called 'the black mosoleum' which is home the mckenzie poltergeist. They had a tour leaving around 9pm that night so I figured I'd attend it. At this time I had some time to burn so I went back to the hostel to enjoy a drink or two.

I returned to the entrance of the church to find a group of people all crowded around a gentleman dressed up as, what I can only assume, a goth... or a half assed one. He was our tour guide of the night. He took us down side streets and to some buildings stopping to tell us the chilling tales of the plauge and the witch burnings that used to take place in Edinburgh. Finally we reach the cemetary. It's pitch black and he has only one small flashlight to guide us through. He tells us stories of many of the people burried around the area. The scary mood was broken when one of those bikeriding rickshaw guys came through the graveyard ringing his bell. Jerk.

We eventually got to the black mosoleum where we were given a warning that if we felt really cold, to move away from that spot and closer to the group, as apparently this is how the poltergeist hurts people. He told us that common injuries were scratches and bruises which we might potentially find in a day or so. Many people were skeptical, but I was kind of hoping for a souvineer of Edinburgh in the cheapest form possible. We all crowded into the small room which was the mosoleum and immediatly began to feel something tug at the back of my hoodie (i'm not kidding or exagerating) I thought it was someone behind me, but I realized I was at the very back of the place along with all the other tall people. This kind of creeped me out, but I kept my cool. Thats when the guide started to explain to us the different things you could encounter with the poltergeist, one of them being tugged at. Eeeeek. It sent a chill down my spine, but still I didn't do anything to draw attention to myself. After 10 minutes of being in the small room we had to leave as too many people were getting frightened and we aren't aloud to spend more then 15 in there anyways. The tour was great fun, but I have yet to see any scractches or bruising. I want my money back. I headed for the walk home and turned in early. Jeff returned from his concert about an hour after I turned in.

The next day Jeff and I had to switch up rooms if we wanted to stay any longer. We did so with no problems. The day started out with us checking out the street venues again and cruising up and down the main shopping strip as Jeff needed new shoes. We finally found a shop where the young girl in there was kind of rude to him. He paid for his shoes and left and we went for some food. Jeff wanted to put on his new shoes and ditch the old ones in our room so we headed up and he unpacked his new footwear. Upon trying on his new shoes he realized he was just sold two right foot shoes. I couldn't contain my laughter it was one of the funniest things I had seen, but he wasn't amused. So, we had to go all the way back to the shoe store and make sure he obtained a left shoe to match his right shoe. The clerk seemed embarassed and was a lot more polite this time around.

Our evening found us doing a tour of an area called Mary Kings Close. This is part of an area which was paved over when Edinburgh had new buildings put in. It's kind of tough to explain without visuals (of which i have none) so I guess you readers are just hooped. Just imagine an alleyway from years ago and then one day about 6 storeys up you have a street above you. That's kind of what happened in Edinburgh when they leveled off the town a bit. So now you can explore the old closes underground where plague victims used to live and so on. While it wasn't as scary as the city of the dead tour in the grave yard, this one had a lot of history to it and I learned a lot.

In the evening we returned to the hostel bar where we chatted with an american guy named Matt. I spent my evening continuing to flirt just a little with the very cute bartender. When you're drinking eventually nature calls so I headed to the bathroom (and No, i'm not giving a play by play of bodily functions!) When I got up there they had one of those machines which looked a lot like a condon machine so I disregarded it. On my way out I gave it a closer look (yeah, I don't know why either) but it turns out it sold all sorts of stupid things. one of them being blow-up sheep. I had to get one (No you sickos! just for hilarity of the situation that I'm in scottland and they sell blow up sheep in the bathrooms. Not because i'm that lonely). I made my purchase and blew her up in the bathroom. When i re-entered the bar I had a blow up sheep tucked under my arm and just about everyone wanted a piece of her. I named my sheep sybill and I think I want to take her everywhere around Europe now, but because of the lewdness of the bottom of the sheep I've decided she needs pants. At the time of writing this I still have yet to obtain any.

With the damage in Edinburgh being done we turned in and were going to embark on our last train journey back to London... for a thrid time.

And what a long journey it was going to be...

London II (London the 2nd)

Jeff and I were getting pretty good at this train travel business as we had no problems getting back to the Brussels train station and once again hopping on board another train. The biggest pain the ass was having to go through U.K. customs again.

We did have a small hiccup in trying to find our new hostel though. We had decided to take a chance and stay somewhere different this time, and I was having a bit of troubles trying to figure out the roads (as in some parts of London, the names of roads aren't marked at all).

After finding our hostel we checked in (with the help of a gorgeous italian girl at the reception desk) and went for the search for food, as we always do. We found a pub called the 'Famous 3 Kings'. It was pretty swank for a Pub I thought. Plus, we were able to secure 2 for 1 deals on the food making it one of the cheapest places I've eaten in London up to this point. It was a rather tame day and we went to sleep early. nothing of note.

The next day we went an explored hyde park, even though it was kind of miserable outside.

There are plenty of things around the park to see. The Queens gate, some special tree which actually doesn't exist as it was burned down (don't ask). The Diana memorial and even the fountain of Joy. I took the opportunity to toss 10 pence into the fountain in hopes of bribing it into giving me a little joy on the romantic side of things. Only time will tell.

After a significant amount of walking and whining about how tired we actually were I found it was time to go meet a friend whom I used to work with, Moni. We took the tube out to a place called Kew gardens which looks like a lovely quiet little area. The kind of place where I'd be banned from for being too energetic. We meet and decide it's supper time. We agree on Indian food and Moni knows just the place up in Kings Cross. We dine and tell stories and have an absolute blast. She asks us where we are headed next and Jeff mentions that he wants to head to Edinburgh for a concert, a group called 'The Shins'. While I'm interested in doing Edinburgh my interest in the Shins is not up to par with Jeff's. Moni convinces me that Edinburgh would be a great time as the fringe festival is still going on up there. I'm sold on that piece and we head to the Kings Cross train station to book tickets for a departure in the morning.

We continue to a have a few more drinks at another pub near our hostel with Moni while watching the end of the England vs Germany football game. A good time was had by all, but it's now time for us to pack it in for yet another train trip. This time up to Scottland.

We're off to the land of Sheep and Haggis.

Belgium: Beer, Waffles, Chocolate and 'Quick'?

Waking up in a daze, still in Paris, I quickly check my mobile phone to see what time it is. Now, I had forgot to set my phone time ahead an hour when we reached Paris so what I saw was 9:30am and started thinking "Jebus, we gotta get going. We are already half an hour late for check out and could get charged an extra night." Jeff looked at his watch and informed me that it is in fact 10:30am. Thinking that I had left my bad day behind me, I remembered that the trouble did not actually begin until 4am, so infact my day could be just beginning.

We hurried downstairs still in that place between drunk and hungover which I so aptly named "drunkover" while I was in Australia. We had lucked out and we did not get charged an extra night. Now it was time to escape this city and for me to look forward to what would be next... except we had no idea where to go next.

It never even crossed either of our minds that once we got the train station ticket booth we would not have a destination in mind. As what was going to become a reoccuring theme, we were unprepared.

Having no problems navigating the subway back to the train station, we infact made record time. I was still angry and bitter, but most of all I was feeling like a huge jackass for the way I acted earlier, but I never wanted to admit it at the time.

We waited our turn to get up to the ticket booth and the gentleman asked us where we were trying to go. Jeff and I exchanged blank stares and then started to look around the room nervously. After a few moments of silence and an agitated ticket agent, Jeff spewed out "Brussels". Of course, why didn't I think of that. It's close by and we can mend our wounds with terrific Belgium beer, waffles and chocolate. The ticket manager gave us a worrying look and said he had bad news. Oh no, it starts. The bad day is just going to continue. Ticket agent "I have no more 2nd class seats with the under 26 discount available " (being under 26 we get cheaper train tickets on certain seats) "All I have is regular 2nd class for 80 euros or 1st class tickets for 70 Euros. Which would you like?" Jeff and I exchange another blank stare as if we are both thinking the same thing: "The cheapest one, you clod!" and so it was, 2 scruffy backpackers were gonna live it up in 1st class.

We had about 15 minutes to wait until our train started boarding. I went to secure us some water while Jeff watched the bags. When I returned he mentioned that he thought he saw the two Swedish girls from last night just pass by. I'm thinking "cripes, this just doesn't end." but then he finishes by saying how they both looked like absolute garbage and probably didn't get any sleep. Well, I'll take that as a consolation prize. Most swedish girls that I know take alot of pride in their beauty. If those two looked like garbage (and it is REALLY hard to imagine) then that is the only blow to their self-esteem that I needed to put it all behind me.

Things were looking up. The train ride was a very comfy and uneventful one. Free food, reclining chairs and the quietest coach there is. This was the life and it was ours to bask in for the next 2 and a half hours.

We arrived in Brussels in the mid-afternon and I had done some research in lonely planet book as to where to stay. Thinking I had it all figured out we were off to find the metro trains. Within minutes of pulling out a metro map we had just aquired, a gentleman approached us asking if we needed any help. I was taken aback. We were wandering around Paris for hours with a map stretched out in front of us and no one would even look at us and here we are in brussels with a tiny map of just the public transit area and this guy wants to help us. Unbelievable. We found where we needed to be going and found our hostel really quick (which was a boost to my self confidence after the Paris fiascos). The bad news was the hostel was full. Infact the guy at the counter told us that all the hostels in Brussels would be full. When I enquired if there was a festival or something special happening at this time he replied with saying "no, it's just the way it is right now." So our next mission was to find a hotel instead. Just around the corner we found one. Not too grand, but not a hole either. Infact we only paid 20 eruos a night for our own room as opposed to the 27 Euros a night we paid in Paris for a share room (is anyone getting the impression that I wasn't liking Paris that much, yet?).

With ourselves sorted and in a new city we felt it was time to discover some food outlets. We wandered and after a few blocks started to notice something eerie. It was 5pm and everything (yes, everything) was closed. There were no people on the streets and very few cars passing by at which point it hit me... it was a Sunday and in Europe Sunday is when many places don't even open. Ooooh dear. We kept wandering hoping that if we made our way more into the city centre we could find something...anything that would be open. Come on, I'll even eat at McDonalds if I have to! Half an hour into our quest we had found a bit of activity and a small fast food outlet known simply as 'Quick'. The giant red 'Q' filled me hope of tasty delights so we ventured in. It reminded me of Wendy's back home. It was basically the way you would think fast food should be done... fast. It was pretty tasty to boot. After our feast we turned in and slept off the booze from the night previous.

We awoke the next morning to find it raining...alot of rain. This put a damper on things, but also gave me the first opportunity to wear my brand new rain jacket. I was actually excited about this. We started out walking in the same direction as we had done the previous evening and were comforted in seeing that all the shops had opened up and Brussels is not infact a ghost town. Not really knowing what Brussels had to offer, we got on a hop-on hop-off tour bus. Basically, it takes you around to a bunch of different sights and you have the choice of getting off and exploring and then waiting for the next bus to come by, or staying on the bus until something tickles your fancy. The first thing to tickle my fancy was the giant Atomium.

The Atomium is a giant building that looks like an Iron atom and was erected for the worlds fair (or expo or something). Close by to the Atomium is a small theme park called 'Mini-Europe'. I couldn't resist. It's a small walk through park which has a ton of models which i think are about 1/151 of the size of the original landmarks. It has things like Big Ben and the Eiffel tower and all sorts of buildings from all over Europe. One of the last models is a Space shuttle for the European Space agency which actually lifts up off it's launch pad and spews out smoke. The part that had me confused was that after it took off the speakers would blast Daft Punks 'Better, Faster, Stronger' song. I'm sure NASA would have better morale if they got to rock out to a little dance music after their space shuttles launch.

We continued back on the bus exploring sights and buildings we didn't know even existed in Brussels until we got to the main shopping area. It's a pedestrian mall which is like a much more successful version of Stephen Ave. back in Calgary. Here we were able to obtain our Waffles! I got to chow down on a waffle covered in chocolate, bananas and whipped cream. Best 5 Euros spent yet. It didn't stop there. We went and found a chocolate shop and purchased up some fine chocolate goodness and the beer store was right next door. While we didn't buy any beer, we did look at all the hilarious names. Things like Lucifer beer, and Phantom Beer. There was even a chocolate beer called chocolate phantom.

We headed back to our hotel to drop off our bags and then went back out to enjoy some Belgium beer on the patio (as the rain had stopped at this point) of a local pub where we chatted well into the evening.

Belgium had become a city which I was really liking. With it's modern architecture mixed in with the older buildings, it gives the city a very unique feel. Now the girls of Belgium may not be super hot or anything like that (from what we saw) they seem very normal and not too lavish. It almost seems like Brussels does not feed off of tourists like London and Paris do, but instead just try to show them a genuine time. With all said and done, Jeff and I decided to head back to London to plan our next move and leave Brussels behind. I have full intentions of returning to explore the cities of Antwerp and Brugge.

Next stop London...again.

Paris: The most romantic and Siezable city in the world

The train station in London mimiced that of an airport. You have to do the whole x-ray of luggage, questions upon questions, and possibly if you are very unlucky a bit of "turn and cough".

The train ride was very uneventful and only lasted 3 hours. Although I was very tired I had a very hard time trying to sleep while there was so much beautiful countryside to be seen.

We arrived about 4pm into Paris and exchanged our money into Euros. The bloke at the money exchange even sold me on a map which would prove to be our saviour.

For some reason Jeff and I had a terrible time trying to figure out which train would get us from the main station to end of the city where James was staying. Figuring out the train line alone took us about an hour. Once we got ourselves into the city we found oursevles in a train station in the basement of a mall. The mall from hell that is. It seems this mall was a bit under ground itself and to escape you would need to travel to the top level of the mall. Of course this seemed very strange to a bunch of foreigners and it never crossed our minds as an option. We finally got ourselves sorted and figured out this maze and got to experience Paris... very twisting and winding road like Paris where everyting looks the same. Perfect for getting lost. It took Jeff and I another 2 hours to find the Hostel as there happend to be two streets with the same name. How clever. At one point I was about ready to pull a 'Joey' and 'jump into the map' to help direct myself. It never came to it though.

That night after getting ourselves settled in we were joined by an american guy by the name of Chris. He took us out the east end to enjoy some french cafe wine and the people watching thqt ensues. Later I was able to make contact with James and he brought out a new ozzy friend with him, Trent. We had a couple of drinks and enjoyed getting lost in the streets of Paris.

The next day Jeff and I did the whole sight seeing thing again. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and even got 3 hours in at the Louvre. I was lucky enough to see the Mona lisa and even the Venus Dimilo. We also got a chance to run across one of the busiest round-a-bouts in Europe. The one at which the Arc D'Triumph (or however it's spelt) is centered at. We had an issue where we saw all these people right underneath the arc and were wondering "how did they get over there?" With a quick look around we decided to cheese it (bless those 'Futurama' fans who get that reference) across the street. Once we survive the ordeal we discover that there are infact stairs that lead to an underground pathway. Whoops. I don't regret any second of our mad dash in front of tons of smart cars and vespas.

That night it was Trents Birthday and we figured we should take him out and celebrate. In tow we were joined by two american guys, Justin and Adam, as well as our new roommate Fred from Quebec. We hit up an Irish pub and I had Fred try to pick up girls for me (when you cant speak the language, get someone who can). We all turned up empty handed, but James found himself a partner for the night. Around 3 we all headed onto our way home sans James. We were then taken down more winding streets by some locals to drink at their watering hole. This was interesting as none of us knew what the other was saying and yet we still had a blast.

At about 4am we discovered a new problem, we had gotten lost. Now wandering the streets of Paris it began to rain. As we looked at a roadside map two girls could be seen across the street who I yelled to. They replied that they don't speak french and I explained that I needed someone to help us in english. The two girls, Lina and Sora, came over and explained they are from sweden and are also lost. Instantly I sprang into charming mike action. I spent some time talking with Lina while she held her purse above us to keep us from getting wet. We had a terrible time find a cab and the weather was not letting up. Eventually I got myself some kissing action off of the beauitful blonde girl and started to think that this could become my Paris romance as i was, after all, supposedly in the most romantic city in the world. All took a turn for the worst when about 20 minutes later she ran off with my buddy Jeff. Trent was forever face locked with Sora and I was feeling a bit unloved.

It turns out that I had become the third wheel of the group. All of them wanted to go off for food, but I was mad at myself for letting Lina slip through the cracks and right into Jeff. Yes I was jealous (a very horrible trait of mine). I told them to go and I would find my way home. I sat on a street corner in the rain thinking how terrible of a situation I was in. Jeff came back for me and gave up the blonde bombshell. I ended up getting mad at him for doing such a thing. My being lost and sans blonde hotty was no need for both of us to be miserable in the city of Paris. I think i was more mad because I don't think I would've done the same and it highlighted what a terrible person I felt I was becoming.

We eventually found a cab and got back to the hostel at 6am realizing that we had to check out at 9am for a train to Belgium (at this time we actually didn't know we were going to Belgium, just to the train station).

The most romantic city in the world was leaving me with a terrible bitter after-taste.