So, I'm in Amsterdam, waiting on the train to Osnabrueck. My flight was early getting in, which I didn't know ever happened, so I've got tons of time to wander the vast hallways of Schipol airport. Unfortunately, everywhere smells like the tasty, fresh baked breads of the Italian, Dutch, German and French bakeries that are nestled between designer stores, and I have come to the conclusion that there is nothing in this airport I can eat besides BK french fries. I refuse, so I will sip on my Capri Sonne and bemoan my gluten intolerance instead.
My flights were great. I had lovely neighbors; on the flight from Jackson to Atlanta was an elderly lady going to her nephew's wedding in Wisconsin, and from Atlanta to Amsterdam was a man on his way home to Finland. He was absolutely fascinating--he worked for a chemical company that had him live for three weeks in Rome, Georgia, then go home for a week, for around six months. Before Rome, it was a town outside Leipzig, Germany (I have a post about Leipzig from last summer!), and,at one point, it was Japan. He's hoping next time for Thailand, and I don't blame him. That's a pretty sweet set-up, if you ask me.
Jan and I got to be pretty close, even though he didn't speak much English or any German and I speak absolutely no Finnish. He hasn't always worked with chemical production. Before that, he was a fashion designer. Random, right? He didn't really go into detail, though, because he got side-tracked by telling me about Finnish candy. Apparently, the Fins go cuh-razy for this candy called Salmiakki. He told me straight up I wouldn't like it, but that I could buy it in Germany if I wanted to try it anyway. Challenge accepted. He also told me about some other candy and how yummy it was, then pulled out a package of them and offered me one. He didn't mention that it had more menthol than a Hall's cough drop or that it left your sinuses in a post-wasabi like state. I apparently was quite amusing in my pain/ confusion because he would not stop laughing. Once I got used to the cool burn of whatever the hell that was, I really liked it, though.
As much it pains me to write this, especially I begin to drool from the scents of broetchen, I can't hate being gluten sensitive too much. My meals on the plane were awesome. For dinner, it was a salad in balsamic-vinaigarette, fresh fruit, chicken with rice pilaf and zucchini and a slightly sweetened rice cake, and, for breakfast, I had another one of the suuuuper yummy rice cake things, a banana and corn flakes. Simple? Yes. Better than all of the other food on the plane? By far.
And I've finally figured out how to get me to sleep on a plane. I stayed up suuuuper late on Wednesday night, then took Nyquil with dinner. I was out. Cold. So much so that I couldn't even take my own breakfast. Jan had to get it for me. But when I woke up, I was so rested. I know I'm going to PTFO tonight, but I don't feel like I have to worry about that happening on the train.
Now if only I could stop missing people so much.
Love,
Eli
22 June 2011
Rainy Daze
The weather is gloomy in Oxford today, meaning it is a perfect time to day dream about my adventures.
I leave a week from tomorrow and arrive a week from Friday. It's incredible--I can't believe I'll be back in Osnabrück, back at Bar Celona (my favorite bar/ restaurant) in just a few days. I've learned some about my homestay. I'll be living with two girls around my age. They have two cats, and both of them smoke. I'm kind of intimidated by the smoking aspect, as I've never been around cigarette smoke for a large amount of time, but my room will be smoke free, so I think I'll be okay. As for the cats, I'm so excited. Being around cats will help ease the pain of missing Nelson. I haven't been away from him for more than a week since I got him in August, and, for the vast majority of that time, he's slept in my bed and just generally been around me all the time.
I've started packing some. I want to be done by Monday, so I can make sure that I have everything I could ever possibly need. But I also need to be done packing because I have to be out of the apartment by the time I leave on Tuesday. I just can't believe it's already time for that. It seems like I was just moving out of the RC, and here I am moving out of my first apartment. Then, come August, I'll move into my first apartment by myself, with my own furniture and my own dinner plates from Anthropologie and my own grill, and I'll take upper level German and Spanish classes, a fiction writing class, a class on Tennessee Williams and one on constitutional law. And, in the mean time, I'll be living in an apartment in a foreign country with foreign roommates.
It just all feels so...strange. It's the life I've always wanted, and it's coming true.
I leave a week from tomorrow and arrive a week from Friday. It's incredible--I can't believe I'll be back in Osnabrück, back at Bar Celona (my favorite bar/ restaurant) in just a few days. I've learned some about my homestay. I'll be living with two girls around my age. They have two cats, and both of them smoke. I'm kind of intimidated by the smoking aspect, as I've never been around cigarette smoke for a large amount of time, but my room will be smoke free, so I think I'll be okay. As for the cats, I'm so excited. Being around cats will help ease the pain of missing Nelson. I haven't been away from him for more than a week since I got him in August, and, for the vast majority of that time, he's slept in my bed and just generally been around me all the time.
I've started packing some. I want to be done by Monday, so I can make sure that I have everything I could ever possibly need. But I also need to be done packing because I have to be out of the apartment by the time I leave on Tuesday. I just can't believe it's already time for that. It seems like I was just moving out of the RC, and here I am moving out of my first apartment. Then, come August, I'll move into my first apartment by myself, with my own furniture and my own dinner plates from Anthropologie and my own grill, and I'll take upper level German and Spanish classes, a fiction writing class, a class on Tennessee Williams and one on constitutional law. And, in the mean time, I'll be living in an apartment in a foreign country with foreign roommates.
It just all feels so...strange. It's the life I've always wanted, and it's coming true.
26 May 2011
Regrets, or "A New Beginning."
My blog has been pitifully abandoned, and for that, I am sorry. There was so much left to be told, and I've forgotten so much. Therefore, I am making a promise to the two people who read this (Hey, Mom and Dad!) to update at least once a week. I'd say more than that, but, come on. I know I'm not going to post something about a day when I sleep in and don't leave my room. No one wants to read that. Or write it, for that matter.
My trip has just been thrown together this year. I wasn't able to take Germ 304 because of my migraine, so I was encouraged to go to Germany to satisfy that credit and to brush up my German skillz to prepare myself for upper level classes and then a semester in the country. All good and well--I applied, got in, had a heart upon seeing the tuition in dollars instead of Euros...the usual. Then came time to buy plane tickets.
Booking flights is not pleasant for anyone, I don't think, except the CEOs who are raking in money like nobody's business. You can try online, but not all the flights are there. You can go to a travel site and end up flying Air Canada to Germany. You can spend hours on the phone with the airline directly AND work with your computer. I chose the third option. I had nothing to do that day except a chapter of geology, and, by damn, I was ready to buy my ticket to Germany. Many, many hours, transfers, menus and technicians (all with bouncing accents that led me to believe that their names were not "Pam" and "James"), I not only had no ticket, but also had become uncomfortably familiar with the hold music. I was at my wit's end. Why was there no way for me to fly out of the country's capital? Why did I have to ride the train for 6 hours to Amsterdam? Why does every flight have to suck so much? And what if they don't have gluten free meals? It took two more phone chats that began mid morning and ended in the early afternoon, but I finally got my damn ticket. The flights are decent--nothing too early or too late, no random connections in Kenosha, Wisconsin--and I was assured that the airline would (most likely) provide something gluten free (maybe).
I took a much-needed break from trip-planning after that; however, when I did start reading about where to stay and in which ho(s)tels to stay, I was immediately met with a problem. I was feeling especially continental as I read about a hostel in German, and I clicked the rates calendar. I typed in the dates we'd be staying there, how many people, what kind of room. An e-mail almost instantaneously arrived; turns out, it was thanking me for reserving with them and that they look forward to meeting me. Whoops.
So now I at least have something to show for my trip: plane tickets that aren't unbearable (but are free--thank you, Skymiles!), a meal to eat on the plane (maybe), and a reservation at a hostel I looked up because it has a bar and pretty bathrooms. This is shaping up to be an interesting trip.
Peace,
Eli
My trip has just been thrown together this year. I wasn't able to take Germ 304 because of my migraine, so I was encouraged to go to Germany to satisfy that credit and to brush up my German skillz to prepare myself for upper level classes and then a semester in the country. All good and well--I applied, got in, had a heart upon seeing the tuition in dollars instead of Euros...the usual. Then came time to buy plane tickets.
Booking flights is not pleasant for anyone, I don't think, except the CEOs who are raking in money like nobody's business. You can try online, but not all the flights are there. You can go to a travel site and end up flying Air Canada to Germany. You can spend hours on the phone with the airline directly AND work with your computer. I chose the third option. I had nothing to do that day except a chapter of geology, and, by damn, I was ready to buy my ticket to Germany. Many, many hours, transfers, menus and technicians (all with bouncing accents that led me to believe that their names were not "Pam" and "James"), I not only had no ticket, but also had become uncomfortably familiar with the hold music. I was at my wit's end. Why was there no way for me to fly out of the country's capital? Why did I have to ride the train for 6 hours to Amsterdam? Why does every flight have to suck so much? And what if they don't have gluten free meals? It took two more phone chats that began mid morning and ended in the early afternoon, but I finally got my damn ticket. The flights are decent--nothing too early or too late, no random connections in Kenosha, Wisconsin--and I was assured that the airline would (most likely) provide something gluten free (maybe).
I took a much-needed break from trip-planning after that; however, when I did start reading about where to stay and in which ho(s)tels to stay, I was immediately met with a problem. I was feeling especially continental as I read about a hostel in German, and I clicked the rates calendar. I typed in the dates we'd be staying there, how many people, what kind of room. An e-mail almost instantaneously arrived; turns out, it was thanking me for reserving with them and that they look forward to meeting me. Whoops.
So now I at least have something to show for my trip: plane tickets that aren't unbearable (but are free--thank you, Skymiles!), a meal to eat on the plane (maybe), and a reservation at a hostel I looked up because it has a bar and pretty bathrooms. This is shaping up to be an interesting trip.
Peace,
Eli
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