Well, it would seem I've not updated my blog in about 4 months. If I've inconvenienced you in anyway, please, feel free to blog about it.
The past while in Scotland has been one crazy and awesome blur but I am now back in Canada. Yes, Halifax, Nova Scotia. Abiding in my sisters 1/3 of the way renovated house, I am sleeping in the furnished basement bedroom for the year. A nice contrast of gorgeous modern kitchen connected to the torn up floorboards and unpainted walls of the living room is great, oddly enough.
Anywho, I hope to get my camera working again and begin updating the blog with further artistic endeavors and amusing anecdotes. Thank god for spell check, or else that last sentence would have been wildly embarrassing for all you grammar police.
Godspeed!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Edinburgh
This room is boiling! I'm in Edinburgh, at the castlerock hostel, and I'm sitting by the fireplace. So thats why its boiling. But it's a pretty swank hostel, so I cant complain.
I got the interview for the walking tour and am being trained currently! It'll be a bit as I have a gigantic amount of info to memorize, and my mom can testify to how much I studied during school. But daddy needs to get paid, son. The man training me is a character to say the least. I've never really seen him not wearing a kilt, aside from when he showed up donning a completely accurate replica of viking armour. Equipped with a chain mail vest that took him two years to build and weighs about 60 kilo. I couldn't really lift it with my two arms, but he can wear it to sword fights... so, whatever.
Allen, the made previously mentioned, gave me a time and location of where to meet him the next day. I had only just met him, but was incredibly interested in what he could possibly be getting me into. Long story short, I end up meeting im in the afternoon outside some pub. He says 'follow me' and leads me into a room. Two guys are at the top of the stairs waiting, one in a suit nods hello, and we follow them into another room. Much to my ammusement it is filled with rather husky men sporting some of the finest handlebar moustaches I've ever seen. It turned out to be a private annual meeting of the Handlebar Moustache Club. Men from Scotland, England, The States, Germany, all over the place. I didn't know what to say. As a boy who can't grow a moustache I can only say I was honoured. Then the day continued on as any other as we all had a pint and talked about nothing.
I even met Megan O'Handley today, and yesterday for dinner! It was a bit surreal to see somebody from home, but it was also awesome because it wasn't a peanut butter and jam sandwhich for the first time in a while. If any O'Handley's are reading this, thanks for dinner, it was delightful. Typically Canadian, we tried to quote as many different herritage moments as possible. How many can you do? Also, can anybody send me the dvd of all them? With some proper peanut butter and maybe some KD.
I got the interview for the walking tour and am being trained currently! It'll be a bit as I have a gigantic amount of info to memorize, and my mom can testify to how much I studied during school. But daddy needs to get paid, son. The man training me is a character to say the least. I've never really seen him not wearing a kilt, aside from when he showed up donning a completely accurate replica of viking armour. Equipped with a chain mail vest that took him two years to build and weighs about 60 kilo. I couldn't really lift it with my two arms, but he can wear it to sword fights... so, whatever.
Allen, the made previously mentioned, gave me a time and location of where to meet him the next day. I had only just met him, but was incredibly interested in what he could possibly be getting me into. Long story short, I end up meeting im in the afternoon outside some pub. He says 'follow me' and leads me into a room. Two guys are at the top of the stairs waiting, one in a suit nods hello, and we follow them into another room. Much to my ammusement it is filled with rather husky men sporting some of the finest handlebar moustaches I've ever seen. It turned out to be a private annual meeting of the Handlebar Moustache Club. Men from Scotland, England, The States, Germany, all over the place. I didn't know what to say. As a boy who can't grow a moustache I can only say I was honoured. Then the day continued on as any other as we all had a pint and talked about nothing.
I even met Megan O'Handley today, and yesterday for dinner! It was a bit surreal to see somebody from home, but it was also awesome because it wasn't a peanut butter and jam sandwhich for the first time in a while. If any O'Handley's are reading this, thanks for dinner, it was delightful. Typically Canadian, we tried to quote as many different herritage moments as possible. How many can you do? Also, can anybody send me the dvd of all them? With some proper peanut butter and maybe some KD.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Edinburgh
After watching far too much Scrubs (or not enough?) and drinking ungodly amounts of tea, I said bye to Anita and took the night bus to Edinburgh. I took the cheapest one I could find. My thought process was that it was a Monday night bus to Edinburgh, I could reason why there would be a ton of people, so I figured there wouldn't be. That's my logic, don't ask me to explain it. What's yours?
So I sit with the person closest to me. If you sit beside a pretty girl, she'll think your creepy. If you sit beside some hoody, then youre probably going to have to put up with a massive leg spread and R&B music. So I thought, this looks like a middleaged businessman kinda guy, he'll probably be happy to have a skinny guy reading beside him with no headphones. Once it was getting time to sleep, I noticed I wasnt too sleepy and that neither was he. In fact he seemed wide awake, and was twitching his hand back and forth. Then, I wish I hadnt, but I realized he looked a lot like the infamous bus killer. Even if youve forgotten who that is, imagine thinking you're sleeping next to him?
After sleeping, collectively, two hours I arrived in Edinburgh. I am so awesome and ambitious that I passed out all my resumes to local pubs and even lined up an interview for Thursday. Im a regular Donald Trump I am. Its actually an interview for a walking tour. Which is great for me, but maybe not for tourists.
"Thats a castle... it's old."
"When was it built?"
"Ill ask the questions, sirrr. Moving on! A... hill."
So I sit with the person closest to me. If you sit beside a pretty girl, she'll think your creepy. If you sit beside some hoody, then youre probably going to have to put up with a massive leg spread and R&B music. So I thought, this looks like a middleaged businessman kinda guy, he'll probably be happy to have a skinny guy reading beside him with no headphones. Once it was getting time to sleep, I noticed I wasnt too sleepy and that neither was he. In fact he seemed wide awake, and was twitching his hand back and forth. Then, I wish I hadnt, but I realized he looked a lot like the infamous bus killer. Even if youve forgotten who that is, imagine thinking you're sleeping next to him?
After sleeping, collectively, two hours I arrived in Edinburgh. I am so awesome and ambitious that I passed out all my resumes to local pubs and even lined up an interview for Thursday. Im a regular Donald Trump I am. Its actually an interview for a walking tour. Which is great for me, but maybe not for tourists.
"Thats a castle... it's old."
"When was it built?"
"Ill ask the questions, sirrr. Moving on! A... hill."
Thursday, March 19, 2009
London, England
Dont know when I last wrote anything. But plans to travel to Lisbon, Portugal were thwarted pretty quickly by a sudden realization of how much money I had (AKA owed), and that my train pass was ending within the next five days. So, I said to myself "self, we should be going back to the UK where we have a UK working holiday visa." So we did!
I took the next train to Barcelona. It was a fancy train, so we watched a movie called 5000 BC or something. People told me this movie was bad, but theyve lost a little credibility in my eyes, as they didnt even slightly touch on how awful this movie truly was. I gave up watching it, when while I was laughing at a certain character confessing his undying love some spanish dude gave me a look like "whats so funny, amigo?!" I tried eating a tomatoe whole, like an apple. It would have been embaressing aside from the fact that the only person who saw me make a huge mess was the guy who LIKED 5000BC. So, I wasnt too shattered.
Met up with some old pals in Barcelona at a hostel. Spring break was code for 'tons of dumb blonde girls', so I wasnt too sad to try and catch a train the next day. Little did I know, France is on strike! France! I literally had just watched a South Park episode joking about Canada going on strike. And then almost an entire country goes on strike. What does that mean to me? France was the final hurdle, and I couldnt even use my train pass. Long story short, I took a very dry humoured flight back to London.
Ill miss the euro-mullets and afternoon naps of Spain, but theres something about dry humour and driving on weird sides of the road.
Now I have to find a job. Which is fine. Theres only a recession. Thats french for "We have lots of jobs so here have a job", right?
I took the next train to Barcelona. It was a fancy train, so we watched a movie called 5000 BC or something. People told me this movie was bad, but theyve lost a little credibility in my eyes, as they didnt even slightly touch on how awful this movie truly was. I gave up watching it, when while I was laughing at a certain character confessing his undying love some spanish dude gave me a look like "whats so funny, amigo?!" I tried eating a tomatoe whole, like an apple. It would have been embaressing aside from the fact that the only person who saw me make a huge mess was the guy who LIKED 5000BC. So, I wasnt too shattered.
Met up with some old pals in Barcelona at a hostel. Spring break was code for 'tons of dumb blonde girls', so I wasnt too sad to try and catch a train the next day. Little did I know, France is on strike! France! I literally had just watched a South Park episode joking about Canada going on strike. And then almost an entire country goes on strike. What does that mean to me? France was the final hurdle, and I couldnt even use my train pass. Long story short, I took a very dry humoured flight back to London.
Ill miss the euro-mullets and afternoon naps of Spain, but theres something about dry humour and driving on weird sides of the road.
Now I have to find a job. Which is fine. Theres only a recession. Thats french for "We have lots of jobs so here have a job", right?
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Sevilla
Im in Sevilla, Spain. Tomorrow I think Ill head to Lisbon in Portugal. ...thats pretty much it. Other than that its been: eating tapas, chilling in the park under palm trees; chilling by a fountain, enjoying an afternoon nap; and, chilling on the roof. Hopefully I can get into trouble so I can write you all something ammusing.
Its basically just been ammusing for people nearby as Im forced to scrape together some of the worst Spanish ever spoken. A lot of pointing, grunting, and mis pronouncing ice cream flavours.
But I always say Por favor!
Its basically just been ammusing for people nearby as Im forced to scrape together some of the worst Spanish ever spoken. A lot of pointing, grunting, and mis pronouncing ice cream flavours.
But I always say Por favor!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Ohhh
Apparently, when the shopkeeper says uno noventa, hes not saying uno momenta. Next thing you know Ive got some old spanish lady yelling UNO NOVENTA!! (Translated, means, One ninety...)
I thought only the english thought that just yelling something makes you automatically speak the language. The people here are super relaxed, but sometimes really relaxed, so dont ever expect speedy service. I mean, they have ciesta. Everybody closes up shop to go home and nap! That, plus free tapas (snacks) with every single drink you order, for free? Everybody should just move here so I dont have to go home. That, or everybody back home totally has to start doing afternoon naps. It aids the digestion.
I thought only the english thought that just yelling something makes you automatically speak the language. The people here are super relaxed, but sometimes really relaxed, so dont ever expect speedy service. I mean, they have ciesta. Everybody closes up shop to go home and nap! That, plus free tapas (snacks) with every single drink you order, for free? Everybody should just move here so I dont have to go home. That, or everybody back home totally has to start doing afternoon naps. It aids the digestion.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Camp Grenada!
Its an easy pun, but yeah, Im here in Grenada. Its rainy, so I havent gotten out to see much yet.
Barcelona was way too hard to leave. But I had already been there a week or something, so I thought I should ramble on.
The squat was great. It ended up being a Polish couple upstairs, two guys from Estonia (Dima and Disa), Sasha the Canadian, and two guys from the Czech Republic. I never memorized their names, as they were a little difficult to pronounce, but they were awesome. One couldnt speak English, so his gestures ranged from asking for money to needing the corkscrew.
It was an intense experience to say the least. What little money there was went to tobacco and wine, for the most part. Other than that you could sneak onto the Metro and find tons of food in the garbage. It sounds gross, but it isnt! I couldnt get over the fact that by just living off what people throw out I ate better than I had in a few weeks, and there was enough for about 8 people.
They knew what dumpsters were for which stores and when they took them out. There wasnt much other people looking in them usually, but if there were you would just share what you found. Tons of tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, bread, salt, bags and bags of chick peas and kidney beans. There was never anything rotten about them, they just werent par for the stores food quality. We even had a big shrimp dinner on my last night there, followed by a ton of Maltesers that we found.
Ive never been one for the "I hate cops" mentality, and Ill never think of Anarchy as a plausible idea. But the idea of a strong community of open and generous people just looking out for eachother was great. Though some come off as intimidating, and may actually be some of the toughest guys Ive met, they were also some of the sweetest and most generous guys Ill ever meet.
In a nutshell, a very interesting awesome time. I couldve stayed a lot longer in Barcelona, but I have to keep going. So, Grenada? Whats here? I dont know. Ill wait till it stops raining. Portugal soon too! I cant believe how quickly my time here is flying by. You all must be excited to have me back in your miserable lives soon. Anyhow, adios amigos! (Id share what Russian words Ive picked up, but I dont think they fit in any context thats appropriate to share with you.)
Barcelona was way too hard to leave. But I had already been there a week or something, so I thought I should ramble on.
The squat was great. It ended up being a Polish couple upstairs, two guys from Estonia (Dima and Disa), Sasha the Canadian, and two guys from the Czech Republic. I never memorized their names, as they were a little difficult to pronounce, but they were awesome. One couldnt speak English, so his gestures ranged from asking for money to needing the corkscrew.
It was an intense experience to say the least. What little money there was went to tobacco and wine, for the most part. Other than that you could sneak onto the Metro and find tons of food in the garbage. It sounds gross, but it isnt! I couldnt get over the fact that by just living off what people throw out I ate better than I had in a few weeks, and there was enough for about 8 people.
They knew what dumpsters were for which stores and when they took them out. There wasnt much other people looking in them usually, but if there were you would just share what you found. Tons of tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, bread, salt, bags and bags of chick peas and kidney beans. There was never anything rotten about them, they just werent par for the stores food quality. We even had a big shrimp dinner on my last night there, followed by a ton of Maltesers that we found.
Ive never been one for the "I hate cops" mentality, and Ill never think of Anarchy as a plausible idea. But the idea of a strong community of open and generous people just looking out for eachother was great. Though some come off as intimidating, and may actually be some of the toughest guys Ive met, they were also some of the sweetest and most generous guys Ill ever meet.
In a nutshell, a very interesting awesome time. I couldve stayed a lot longer in Barcelona, but I have to keep going. So, Grenada? Whats here? I dont know. Ill wait till it stops raining. Portugal soon too! I cant believe how quickly my time here is flying by. You all must be excited to have me back in your miserable lives soon. Anyhow, adios amigos! (Id share what Russian words Ive picked up, but I dont think they fit in any context thats appropriate to share with you.)
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