Just call me

Jet lagged Jill.

I flew 10 hours into sunlight. I left Heathrow at 12:30pm local and arrived at 2:30 pm local, except I spent 10 hours someone in space. Michael, the dear, took me out for a rather posh Curry restaurant and tried to keep me up as long as possible. I got up at 4:30 am, which considering it's equivalent time zone in Europe (12:30pm) that's a pretty good lie in. Ruby slept right next to me the whole night unlike sleeping on her little spot closer to the wall. So nice to be welcomed back.

I just hope no one minds that I'm doing laundry and cleaning up

one que after another

That's what airports are. One long line after another. If you're not in line for security, you're in line to try and get rid of the last of your foreign money. Heathrow is one of the world's busiest airports and yet I managed to run into someone I knew. Off in the distance I could hear, "Hi Jill." Like a distant echo, it repeated. Vaguely familiar, never associated with myself until someone grabbed my arm and the words made their way through the layers of protective strategies to block out the many many sounds around me. We ended up taking the same flight but I didn't see her again until 9 hours into attempts to entertain myself resulted in a wander around the strange creature hurtling us though the upper atmospheres of travel. I was standing in another que, this one for a bathroom when I saw her sitting a few rows back, and waved.

I'm home. Clothes which I now resent strewn around the floor. Gifts and parcels long ago bought unpacked and Ruby petted, the boyfriend revisited.

xoxo
Jill

on my home

I photographed 3 Banksy's today while on a really great walk around town with Michael's younger sister victoria. Later I met his older sister, Trish. They are clearly both very fond of Michael. His whole family is really really nice, and I'm very fortunate to have the opportunity to have met them.

It's been a really fantatsic ending to my whole trip.

xoxo
Jill

Ps.. see you when I get home...

Brasserie

Brasserie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

A favorite, snapped in Paris.

Bristol

Yesterday I arrived by train to Bristol to spend my last days in England with Michael's sister Victoria and her husband Martin and the enchanting 4 year old Katherine.

Today, Katherine stood on a chair in the kitchen and in an exasperated voice, exclaimed to her mother, "but I caaannnnn'tttt wait not another moment for my breakfast." Oddly, it was reminiscent of of Michael saying, "But I can't wait another moment, I'm going to expire immediately if I don't have a coffee."

Mnn...genetics.

Later, we'll go into town and I'll have a chance to photograph 2 Banksy's that are here. Ironically, Banksy is originally from |Bristol, but I don't think I'll have time to find all the peices he has here.

But I know of this one and this one.

So a bit of graffiti and a bit of the fella's family. A really nice ending to a pretty fantastic trip.

xoxo
jill

tick tock

I can't believe my trip is nearly over. Depending on the moment it seems like I have been away for along time or sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday. Travelling with 2 changes of clothes in a backpack is a funny endevor to take on. In the midst of it, it can suck. You get dirty. Your clothes are smelly slept in creatures. You sleep in rooms with people who snore loudly or smell funny or won't cease the ongoing party or they get up dreafully early and slam door and zip and unzip bags without mercy for your slumbering ears. When you travel alone, you suffer through navigating foreign languages in dingy bus and train stations. It seems as though the whole world can see that you are alone and vulnerable and confused. And especially the scary people definitly know this, or at least that's what you tell yourself.

In order to travel one must inevitable transport oneself from one place to another. It's a dreadful to take this on.

"Bonjour, je n'parle pas francais. Tu parle anglais?"

Then you mangle your way through a conversation hoping that you are booking the right room for the right day and the right ticket going to the right place and you understand the time and where to get the bus. You need to navigate phone numbers 20 didgits long and try and get directions to that far away room in a dorm and hopefully arrive there safe all with not loosing your camera, bag, money or mind. Of course you need to repeat this for everything you do, from getting directions or following a map for the laundrette, grocery store, or anything else you want to see or need. And you walk and walk and walk. If you get on that bus, do you know where it's going?? How will you get back if you get too far?? Taxi's are not an option when you shoestring it around.

I think it many ways its better to do this alone. I would be much more distracted by another person to keep a watchful eye on all my belongings. I would get careless and compacent with another person travelling with me. There is a sense of security provided by another person and it's not reliable in the times you may need it the most. True, whn your lost at that distant tram station, with the sun setting quickly, it's less scary with your friend there, but when your both laughing in a relaxed moment and then next thing you know, you've dropped your wallet somewhere.. well then its not so great.

Poole has been really lovely. The weather has continued to be warm and lovely and sunny. Every Tuesday night, bikers and motorcycle enthusiasts come from all around to park down on the quay and admire each others bikes and matching outfits. It was quite a specticle. In fact it was as though Sturgis had come to Poole for the day. I had a pint of my favorite Strongbow cider with blackcurrent cordial, of which you can't get in most 'pubs' in Canada despite their immitation of the English way of life. Later I had an amazing dinner of marinated chicken with mint, almonds, and artichokes in a cream sause, with basmati rice. Later in my hotel, I had a 'sticky toffee pudding' while I watched the TV. I slept like a rock.

I leave tomorrow for Bristol to visit the boyfriend's family. Looking forward to it. I've spoken to them on the phone and they're looking forward to meeting me. I think it will be lots of fun.

Strangely, I am looking forward to getting back to my own bed, my feather duvet and pillows, my cat, the boyfriend and having an incoming flow of money rather than just the outgoing, and the usual routine. And of course a bit more travelling in my own country....

xoxo
Jill

changes

Lovely how a big bed, feather pillows, a TV and a private bathroom can equal so much comfort after slumming in hostels and overnight sleeps on the bus.

Too bad that when I flicked on the TV, the news of the school shooting in the US was plastered on all 3 available channels. My thoughts go out to those family and firends that have lost someone so senselessly.

riding the rails

IMGP4366, originally uploaded by smoooch.

There's something that 's really exhilerating about navigating huge subway sytems like the London Tube.

Having a blast in London despite asnag with picking up a package I left behind. Probably the lack of sleep and proper food.

xoxo
Jill

transporting

Holy moly. I cannot believe the trip I have had. If I could have afforded the train, it would have clearly been the better choice. I jumped on a train in Brugge that was packed and ended up spending the 1 hr trip sitting on the floor in the train car boarding area. I got to Brussels literally 2 hours early as I thought the bus left at 10 pm but it actually left at 10:45, or at least it was supposed to. Afetr walking around and eating the only food that was available to me out of vending machines, the bus arrived an hour late and didn't leave for 2 as the bus driver had to meticulously record every detail of every passport on the full to capacity bus. Couldn't that have been done in advance??

During the trip we stopped for 1/2 hour at a gas station for reasons unknown. We went through the Calais (France)/ Dover (England) border. Had to get off again when we boarded the ferry and have our bags x-rayed, get back on the bus and then get off for the ferry trip. There, I had the unfortunate incident of being cornered by a fellow passenger who asked me how Christianity was in Canada and used that comment to launch into a nonstop explanation of his faith. I broke away.

However, at one point, and this is a bit funny, I went in search of hot food and saw a que in line for what looked like breakfast. So I fell in line. The usual English breaky of sunnyside up eggs (yuck. luckily there was scrambled.), fried bread (Really, what are they thinking? That and cold toast? I don't get the appeal but I had some.), ham bacon, some kind of fat sausage, fried tomatoes and french fries. Packets of jam, brown sauce, malt vinegar, and ketchup waited for us at the end. And it seemed that no matter what you had, you paid £3.20. OK. Well, it also seemed that the room was too small for all the passengers on the boat and that they only ones eating this breakfast were quite burly and tattooed. Then I saw the door sign that read "For Transport Drivers Only". Oops. I masqueraded as a lorry driver and got a cheap breaky. Best part of the trip.

Well, I have finally arrived in London. It's 9 am and I was supposed to be here at 6. Off to find London Fields, the home of a friend of Michael's and where I stayed when I first arrived, to pick up a gift for Michael's niece and then onwards to Poole for activities that because are work related are never mentioned in detail here.

Hope everyone back home is doing well. I miss you.

xoxo
Jill

last day in Brugge

I trundled off this morning to the closest laundromat as the clothes need to be cleaned. I have actually managed to accomplish this just before I leave a country. I cleaned them before I left the Czech Republic and before I left France and it seemed fitting I would do them again before I leave Belgium. Here's to changing into my pajama's and back into my clean clothes in front of strangers!!

I take a late train back to Brussels today. I'm scheduled to get on a 10 pm bus departure for London, which arrives tomorrow at 6am. I'll try and put the bag in storage while I do a bit of running around and then I get a train to Poole where I have a hotel reservation waiting for me. This is the point where work picks up the tab.

Well, my last day and I think I'll take another bike ride into the country side and around town. It's an hour to the Dutch border. I wonder if I can do it. Probably not, but maybe I'll see Little Bo Peep again. Oh, there's some Beguinage Nuns here that I'll stop in and say hello to as well.

ps. take a look through the link as there are some great pictures of Brugge that pretty well represent what I am seeing everyday.

xoxo
Jill

bit of this bit of that

Backpacking with one pair of shoes and 2 changes of clothes is a drag. There's no way to know what the weather is like so you inevitably end up carrying something you don't need and not carrying what you do. Why didn't I bring a book? Why do I have 8 tops? I consistently worn 3-4. I have washed my socks, underwear and bra in the shower with me and I only have 1 towel. The other day I had to drop my pants to pee in a park and I sprayed my pant leg. I've worn those pants 3 more days since and I'll finally do my laundry tomorrow.

Anybody that tells you backpacking Europe is a barrel of laughs is either lying or has never done it. In reality, its a job no one pays you to do.

PS. A special thank you to my sister who gave me a small change perse that had a keyring. I have attached that each day to whatever clothing I am wearing. I never feared a pickpocket since.

xoxo
Jill

I went into a shop today that seemed rather interesting, or at least the man in the shop seemed very welcoming. There were very striking dolls in the window. I popped in and had a chat with an artist, Phillip Heath. He makes all the dolls by hand with a process that I can't begin to describe, and they are all based on photographs he has taken of street children. Further discussions revealed that he worked with organizations like UNICEF in the past and had a life history of working with abused children. The profits from his dolls supports his life and continues to support his commitment tohelping abused or homeless children.

Take a look at the website.

what I have learned so far

• I found this cheese shop, Androuet while I was in Paris and had a very interesting chat with the owner. He mentioned that the owners of a cheese shop in Vancouver come and visit him. I was surprised at all the knowledge I had retained about the various stories about cheese I once knew. I felt passionate and interested again in the subject and feel like I should at least one day a month in a cheese shop or maybe open my own one day. I will start with the one in Vancouver (or maybe the one in Paris will have me back?? ha!)
  
• I still feel like I would like to run or own a hostel somewhere in the world. I have felt this way for 11 years and am no closer than I was when I first discovered this feeling. How do I make this happen??
• I want to grow my hair out into a short boy cut. I have seen lots and lots of women with this look and it appeals to me. Right now, I am not that far off.
  
• I want to walk 10000 steps every day, even maybe more. Even though I detest walking normally, I have come to find it very calming and love my little pedometer.
• I love the idea of lunches of bits of cheese and meat and bread eaten wherever, and off the brown papers their wrapped in. Must do this more at home. I also like the idea of little bottles of wine sold at the grocery store. I wish I could do this more at home. First thing in order is a picnic at Trout Lake with cheeses and meats wrapped in brown paper.
• It is lonely to travel alone, and sometimes scary. But in the end, you are without the compromises and sometimes dramas that can accompany a companion. For to have the freedom of making all your own decisions you give up the fun and sharing of a companion.
• Cause and effect: When something bad happens, it may not be because you did or said something bad; it may not be the effect. The bad thing may be at the start of the lesson, the cause, that in turn creates an effect that is unexpected. I met a girl who in a moment of distraction had her bag snatched. It contained all her cash (and alot!), her credit cards, camera, blackberry, ipod etc.. She kept saying she must have done something horrible in the past for that to happen to her now. I said, maybe it happened to force you to stay in Brussels an extra day to prevent something bad from happening. Or maybe it was something that happened to push your life into an experience of growth and something better.
• Always travel with a good book for when you are in countries where English is not the 1st language and everything is unreadable.
  

What have you learned lately??

xox
Jill

more Brugge

My sleep in my little room was nice, if not a little lumpy. I walked down the hall to the bathroom last night and there on a ledge was Van Gogh's 'Room at Arles' which I mentioned below. I brought it into my room. Very nice. The furniture is almost the same. This morning I had the distinct impression of a cat walking on the mattress near the pillow. I could very clearly feel the depressions in the surface near me and when i would open my eyes It would disappear. When I closed them again, it come back. Clearly my room is haunted with the spirit of a cat.

Brugge on the other hand seems to be the holiday destination of the well heeled European. The people are mostly middle aged, garish taste and weather exposed leather skin. Sagging ochre tanned decolettage abound. The streets are packed with them and their more tatseful offspring and the shops are clearly in line with their needs. I saw this really nice, simple dress in a shop window and popped into chech the price; it was 138 Euro. A little steep for me. Nontheless, the streets are full of people, the streets a mash of bicycles, tiny cars, horse drawn carriages and SUV's. Yes, SUV's. I was also very surprised to see them in a tiny canal ridden place like Brugge.

I took a boat ride through the canals. Best 7 Euros spent apart from the bike ride. You pile into a boat with 20 other tourists and drift thoughtfully under the bridges and around corners. Other tourist boats pass and every time you go under a bridge, the other tourists looking down on you wave. And some wave back. I got on and sat next to a little boy:

Little Boy: Mommy, I don't want to sit next to a stranger.
Me: Well my name is Jill. There! We're not strangers anymore.
He scowled.
The mother: It's OK, she's from the States too.
Me: No, Canada.
She slightly scowled at me too.
I turned and faced the other direction.

The views from the boat were great, like postcards. I took lots. I wish I could show you but I'm not going to risk another loss and the new USB stick seems to be having troubles. Maybe this operating system needs an upgrade. Sorry. For now, no pictures.

I may hire another bike and zip around again. Apparently if you go past Damme you can ride to the Dutch border. Maybe I should take my passport for stamping?? It's the cobblestones that deter me. Other than the boat trip, I haven't done anything touristy. I don't really feel like standing in line to climb the 300 stairs to the town belfry this time around.

xoxo
Jill

Stephanie and Stephanie

Stephanie and Stephanie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

This is Stephanie and Stephanie, both from Melbourne. We shared a hostel toom in Montmartre, Paris for 3 nights or so. The only other person in the room was this guy who came in very late and left very early in a suit. One of the Stephanie's claimed that in the morning he would walk from the bathroom to his suitcase etc.. with nothing on. I would bear witness to that phenomenon a few days later. Weirdo.

These girls had a grand sense of humor. They had a photo of them standing out in the middle of Chaps Elyesses with these candy fangs in their mouths. It was really funny. I suggested they do a whole series; in front of the Notre Damn, the Eiffel Tower and so on. My last night in the hostel they bought fangs and wanted to have a photo taken with me but just as I snapped this, a gang of learing Morrocans came into the hostel and distracted us. Besides, the fangs are starting to dissolve.

Really lovely girls. I hope they keep in touch.

-Jill

on Brugge

I am staying at a very nice little hotel in the old part of Brugge. My tiny room is on the top 3rd floor, up a very narrow and steep winding stairwell with what I observed to be a very rickety railing. One quick stumble and you and your backpack would crash right through it to land on the faded and worn carpet below. The room has one little wood framed bed, one little desk and one little chair. On the other side there is a small sweet wardrobe. There is also a little window with a little view. You know that Van Gogh painting? That's my room, but smaller.
The hostel has a resident dog; a Sharpie named Sophia that is, get this, having her period so she walks around with a special diaper on. Interesting. I would have rather had a resident cat, but you can't have everything. I do have free Internet and a kitchen to use. Tonight's dinner incidentally is spinach tortellini with bolognese sauce, bread and boursin. Which is highly anticipated after the ride I have had.

I rented a bicycle and rode all over Brugge. I had to stop and buy a shoulder bag to carry my camera, maps, notebook and pen. My feet don't hurt now but my ass does after all the cobblestones I encountered. I rode all the way to nearby Damme. It's about 1/2 hour. It was just about the nicest thing ever. Riding along a canal on a tree lined narrow rode in the Belgium countryside trying to remember the words for "in Flanders's field's, the poppies grow row on row...". The view was something else. I passed 3 windmills. I seriously thought I would see a Flemish nun milking a cow in wooden shoes. It was incredibly picturesque.

And then I happened upon Little Bow Peep instead, except she wasn't wearing a flouncy dress, but she did have the curved walking stick and a bunch of bleating sheep. They were all along the road munching the clover. Of course, I got off the bike and took lots of pictures of the little lambs with their pink ears. All these sheep just walked around me and you could reach out and pet the wee ones. You know, they aren't as soft as they look. But one of them left behind a woolen fleece tangled on a bit of a branch and I thought about collecting it to stuff between my toes for comfort, but do my feet need to smell THAT bad?

Damme was damn boring. If they filmed a movie there, I couldn't find anyplace worthy of a location scout. It was full of quaint houses, and perfect lawns. No canals really, just some swamp water. I stopped in a off the beaten track (and you didn't have to go far) place for something to eat. Everything seemed to have meat in it so I settled for a glass of coke and asked for a big bottle of water. I get a 1 litre GLASS bottle of water. How am I supposed to transport that?? I drank the whole thing and the coke. The bill was 8 Euro. I left Damme and 1/2 hr later headed for the first bathroom I could find.

Now, I'm settling in for a relaxing evening and an early night. Tomorrow are the street markets and some regular sightseeing. Did you know the blood of Christ is here in Brugge? No, me neither, but I think I may try and see it.

how to post comments

1. Click the little red word that says "0 comments" or it will say 1 or 2 etc if someone has already left comments.
2. A window pops up and there will be a box that says, "Leave your Comment". Type your thoughtful and considerate prose in that box.
3. Mom: pay attention here..Scroll down to where there are three buttons and it will give an option of "Other" or "Anonymous". Choose "OTHER".
4. When you click on the "other", 2 lines pop up that asks for your name and web page. Fill them in accordingly. If you are my mom, type Mom where it says name, etc..If you don't have a web page, leave it blank.
5. Thus, if you're my mom, when your comment is published later (all comments are moderated through me first), it will say "Mom says..." rather than "anonymous says...". And it's better that way.
6. Preview first if you'd like, then click, "Publish Comments". I get an email letting me read the comment before it appears. The next time I go to post a comment, I publish yours. Make sense?? Hope so.
   
7. Good luck.
8. xoxo Jill
   

I am a girl, but I don't have a pearl earring but I am packing an useless rain coat..

Today I am going to rent a bike and ride along the canals to nearby Damme which is where part of the movie, "Girl with a Pearl Earring" was filmed. Should be very relaxing and a change of pounding the cobblestones.

I have a small issue between my 1st and 2nd toes. It started as a blister and then popped. Then it turned into something between a callus and a corn. Now it is a blister underneath the thick callused skin and it's quite annoying and sore. It really needs a break from the 18km walks, so a bike ride is in order. Incidentally, I do believe I am finally loosing weight from all this walking.

Incidentally, it has not rained one day while I have been in Europe. I don't believe it has rained anywhere in Europe. When I was in Paris the weather was in the 20's and I read a headline that Brusssels is supposed to break a heat record with a predicted 32 degrees for this weekend. Alternatively, my mother in Red Deer, Alberta says that it has snowed and that spring just keeps getting delayed. I do believe that Europe will become completly uninhabitable during certain parts of the year and the only people who will be in these cities will be fountain caretakers or backpackers wearing very little.

xox
Jill

A Treat

I have safely arrived in Brugge. It's alot like Cesky Krumlov; medieval, quaint with a canal or two. I shelpt my way to the HI Youth Hostel which was nearly 2 km from the train station. It's cold, ornary, rule orientated and reminds me of another hospital. And it's outside of the old quaint part of town. No fun at 18 Euro. True I could rent a bike all day for 9 Euro, but then again, the cost of internet is 1.5 Euro for 1/2 hr!!!

So I went looking. And it's a quaint hotel in the old part and I can get a private room with shared facilities for 26 Euro. Breakfast, the internet, bedding, warm and friendly reception are all included. It's the Hotel Lybeer and I'm having a little treat after so much walking and the weird and dirty Brussels.

xoxo
Jill

Score

My last day in Brussels and I did walk back to a few of the good spots. I wrote about one here. This time, the snooty Blonde woman was gone and a friendly Spanish construction worker was there and he let me inside (I don't think she would be too happy to know that.).

So Lucky me, I have looked out through these windows.



I'm off to Brugge in a few hours. I have the momentary impression that Brugge is Belgium's version of Venice. I envision quaint boat trip down scenic canals and quaint cafe's and well rested feet.

224

IMGP5452, originally uploaded by smoooch.

for a family of 4

IMGP5417, originally uploaded by smoooch.

another tiny car

IMGP5505, originally uploaded by smoooch.

right now as I type

Due to the location of the Youth Hostel I am staying at in Brussels, I am in a heavily Muslim area, I think I have mentioned that. There is a massive crowd in the street right now as someone has died in the building, I believe upstairs in the apartment above the internet place. Women are yelling and crying and people are EVEYWHERE. It alternatively reminds me of Morocco and some thing I have seen on TV after a car bomb has gone off. But this is the seat of the EU and not Iraq.

And I am the only caucasion girl on the whole block, typing away while this all goes on just outside the door. There are police and ambulances and the sounds are something else. I wouldn't dare take out my camera for this, as it seems my presence may be unrespectful at best. The police have come into the internet cafe and there are sirens and general commotion. I feel like I am a war correspondent filing a news report. The yelling and noise and commotion is crazy, but sounds of grief not anger.

I think I'll get out and get back safely to the hostel before the tide turns.

the saga of lost photo files

Well, I don't think it's a complete loss. Did I think I was going to blow up my photos into monstrous proportions? Not exactly. If I am unabale to use the flickr files for suitable printing, there is a lovely program called Qoop that will be able to print at least 8x10's and 8x12's. It gets a bit sketchy any biggerthan that.

I came back to the dodgy internet place with a translater and alas the files are unretrievable. But as my lovely mother pointed out, the letterboxes and doorknobs would not work so well as huge prints, but smaller as a series.

By the way, Mom: it was great to talk to you today. It kind of reminded myself of when I travelled Europe before and I would phone home wheneverI was having difficulty. And it was a snag, but certainly not the end of my visit in Brussels.

I don't think I will go back to the walking tours again and grapple at getting the same photos twice. It's not worth it. It will feel frantic and rushed and won't be any fun. But I may go early in the morning for a few doors that I remember. I'm glad I saw what I did. I am looking forward to getting out of this crazy neighborhood and visiting Brugge for 3 relaxing days. Who knows maybe there is a whole show on Brugge waiting.

I hope your class went well and the weather possibly improved, but then again, it's Alberta.

xoxo
Jill

from the top of the Notre Damn

IMGP5288, originally uploaded by smoooch.

always watching over the city of lights

IMGP5286, originally uploaded by smoooch.

ribbon

IMGP5524, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Beautiful, isn't it.

xox
Jill

ps. feeling ok about the photo catastrophe. There isn't really anything I can do, but move on, right. But it was a rather large jug of expensive milk I spilt, so clearly a day full of kindness and treats for myself is in order. Hopefully, all will work out on the Flickr end of things.

xoxo
Jill

SUV's are a rare sight in Europe.

IMGP5508, originally uploaded by smoooch.

But I have seen some insanely cute and very tiny vehicles. I would have to say scooters were the popular mode of transportation in Paris and every 7-10 car is a Smart Car. I see an SUV maybe every 50 cars or so. Otherwise, all are small and very compact.

xox
Jill

they're gone

I ran and got another USB stick this morning. I ran back and waited for this crappy little Internet hole in the wall to open. The files are gone. The system deletes all temporary files when its shut down. I can't believe my stupidity. The original large format files of all those art nouveau photos are gone. I can only pray that what I can download from Flickr later on, will be suitable for printing.

I can do 2 things: I can stay in Brussels another 3 days and miss Brugge and recreate my 15km walks and photos or I can cut my losses and move on.

Mom, what do you think I should do?

I think I need to get out of this neighborhood and definitly this dodgy internet cafe. I can't believe I could be so stupid with my photos. I could spend the rest of the day crying, but I have one last walk and one last stab at getting some photos.

Apart from the Art Nouveau, I really don't like Brussels much. On a side note, I have emailed Flickr in hopes of peace of mind knowing that the files I have on Flickr can be blown up to 8x10 or larger. Keeping my fingers crossed.

watching the looking

IMGP5532, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I stumbeld upon a free photo show in a park today. The people looking at the photos made for a few good ones. I approached these 2 women afterwards to let them kknow that I had snapped their photo. They were both Catholic nuns. I told them I had taken hundreds of photos since I had come abroad and that the one I took of them was nearly my favorite. In terms of any pictures I have taken of people, it is.

xox
Jill

doors, doorknobs and letterboxes

You can look at all my recent photos. I apologize for the slanted angles. I will have to fix that later, as I have to move quickly and get off line. I will also fix the doubles and edit out the crap. I'm using Flickr a bit to store photos as you will learn about a few posts down.

Do I have a show from any of this? Maybe. If you think a show on doorknobs, doors and letter boxes might be interesting. I seem to have taken quite a few pictures of them.

How do you like the 689 pictures so far??

Here's just Art Nouveau and just the letterboxes. And finally, my lovely collection of doorknobs.

Much love,
Jill

To Danielle

A lovely girl named Danielle who is living in Mons, Belgium has been watching my blog for some time. She sent me a lovely email saying she had enjoyed reading about where I had been and so on; So, Danielle emailed me and offered me a place to stay should I choose to visit Mons. For various reasons, I have declined, but it was a tough decision to make because I love a free place to stay, I love to meet the locals, and I love an unexpected opportunity, but nontheless, I declined.

Well, today I received an email from Danielle saying she was coming to Brussels and did I want to meet for a coffee or a meal? Well, of course, I said. Except, I only had one problem; I could not yet figure out how to navigate a pay phone. I must be a complete idiot or every phone I found today was broken.

So, Danielle, if you are reading this, I humbly apologize for not being able to contact you today despite my best efforts. I sincerly hope you didn't spend the day in Brussels wondering about when I would call or feeling bad when I didn't. If you ever come to Vancouver, the coffee and a place to stay is on me.

Sincerely,
Jill

the horror

I thought I could do it, I did it before. Oh boy have I fucked up, maybe. There's hope to solve my littel problem. What I did was try to copy images off of my memory card to put themon line for you, faithful rader of my blog. Well, I was able to do that, but what I also did was erase the images frm my memory card. This is bad. I need to take these images home with me and a file on Flickr is not the same.

So for now, all of my photos from my last day or 2 in Paris and ALL the art nouveau and Brussels phots are hiden in a folder on a computer in a dodgy part of Brussels populated by North Africans and a youth hostel.

My plan? To search out a USB stick tomorrow, hustle back and get those photos on that stick and delete them from this computer. Will I sleep well tonight? Probably not. But how hard can this be? This is doable. It can't possibly be that hard to find a USB stick in Brussels.

I hope. In the worst case scenario, I have at least got them up on Flickr.

it is just not right

"The terrifying and edible beauty of Art Nouveau architecture."

- Salvador Dali

I found the beloved Hotel Tassel (scroll through the link to see the images of inside) yesterday. It is a private building and you can not go in, as a member of the public. This is just wrong. How could something so beautiful and a cornerstone of Horta's career not be a state owned building and open to the public??

I half considered camping out on the steps to harass the first person who opened the door but I knew the end result would probably not end in my favour and perhaps the police would be called.

But still, it is not right! However, what you can go in is Horta's private home. It's a museum. I'm going today. One thing I have noticed as I hunt down these gems is that the building are actually signed by the architects. You'll see a concrete slab and it has been signed before the concrete set. It's really facinating.

xoxo
Jill

today's escapade

I saw this window and building today. I also saw someone inside and true to my nature I rang the bell. A very pretty blond woman came to the door. After we determined we both spoke English...

Me: Excuse me, I'm very sorry to bother you, but I am an admirer of Art Nouveau.
Her: Yes?
Me: I know this is terribly inappropriate, but would you allow me to see the inside?
Her: Oh, no. It's also very dirty as we are fixing it up.
Me: It's a very lovely window out front.
Her: Yes, and it's filthy. We are fixing it up as we will rent it out.
Me: Oh? How much will the rent be?
Her: I'm not going to tell you that.

Well. Alright then.

I have seen many unbelievable examples of Art Nouveau yesterday and today. I wish I could show you the pictures but I am just feeling way too ill to try and organize that venture. I'd have to find an Internet cafe, you see, with a USB port access often denied at hostel Internet terminals. And since lately, I can't even navigate the phones, it seems daunting.

Speaking of navigation.. I seem to be able to find my way fine with my art nouveau walking tour maps, but finding stamps or a post office seems to be out of my reach. I have a number of postcards that didn't get mailed in Paris and more from here. Since it costs about 2 dollars each to mail one, they will probably get mailed from Vancouver.

xox
Jill

constant companion

IMGP4938, originally uploaded by smoooch.

of being a tourist

It's remarkable what landmarks tourists have created. Nearly everywhere you go there is a famous landmark or something to "rub for good luck". There was the sculpture on the Charles Bridge, and there is a a sculpture in Brussels as well. The thing about the sculpture to rub for good luck in Brussels is that it is right next to a marker for one of Brussels Art Nouveau architects and is a beautiful example of the craftsmanship. The crowd was busy photographing and touching this sculpture while completely ignoring the masterpiece right next to it. I ask someone nearby, "Do you know what it is or what it is for?" referring to the good luck charm, she laughed and said she didn't. I asked her if she knew why she was filming it. She laughed again and walked away.

Such is the case of the Manneken-Pis. It's just this little statue not more than 2 or 3 feet high. Various legends abound, but most likely it was a drinking spout, albeit, a humorous one. By the way, I think there is an underground river that runs beneath Brussels, which is in fact connected to the sewage system. Water from this stream is used to create some of the Belgian beers. I think it was Victor Hugo that said something about residents of Brussels drinking their own piss every day; Perhaps the Manneken-Pis is a joke on that.

Regardless, it's famous, and most likely so because of throngs of tourists who have made it so. On it's own, it's just a pissing sculpture. Tons of sculptures that spew water are all over Europe. But the question is, why do we, as tourists, continue to flock to these unlikely monuments. Does it add to our experiences of visiting a place? Does it verify we were there? Does it connect us to the bigger whole, make us feel more complete?

Would you go to Lourdes or Roquefort and not visit the caves? Of course not. Paris without Jim Morrison's grave? Perhaps. But not the Eiffel Tower or Notre Damn? Probably not. Somethings are landmarks and have gathered true legendary status. But maybe it's a homage to something dear to you ( are you a fan of Mr. Morrison?). If you are a fan of the Parisian literary greats; Hemingway, Sartre, ..) then you go to Cafe De Flore and Cafe Deux Magot. Problem is so does EVERYBODY else. Then it becomes the point when what could be a true landmark, in fact becomes a tourist marker.

And back to the Manneken- Pis: landmark or tourist marker? Why would you go see a 2 foot high sculpture of a little boy pissing?

I did. But I still want to know why.

when feeling low eat a big plate of salad

Curious how a wicked long and hot shower and a big plate of lettuce and Belgian Endive can perk you up. Or how a full day in the blazing sun looking at architectural masterpiece's with no one to express the amazement and wonderment you feel can bring you down. Did I mention that Brussels is also a fairly dirty, sooty city and they have unbelievable architectural gems laying in ruins. I saw a few buildings that looked like squats-all boarded up. It would be like walking down Hastings in Vancouver except the buildings would be from the 17-18th centuries. It's a bit depressing, as you can imagine.

I have decided to go to Brugge for the nights of April 12-13-14. I am considering it my holiday from my holiday. It's slightly cheaper than Brussels and maybe I'll splurge on a boat trip down the canals or just slowly wander the medieval streets. Apparently there is a pretty good flea market on Saturday too.

Thanks to the "farm" for the well wishes. I almost forgot that it was Easter. I wish I could have been there. When I saw the message from the "farm" I only concluded that there had been a wiener roast in the tree line since technically there isn't a farm anymore!!

oh woe

I'm lonely.

It's not easy travelling, navigating metros and trams, crowds, grocery stores, finding hostels, not loosing anything and having fun all by yourself and then no one to share it with. I kind of miss my 2 hostel mates in Paris. At the end of the day we shared what we did and not in hand gestures and broken English. However, if I was travelling with someone, would I have clocked 18.39 km around central Brussels today? It's a give and take. But it's tough. I feel exhausted and that I need a holiday from the big cities. I can't seem to navigate the phones in Brussels as I really want to call family to say hello.

No one cares what you had for breakfast but...

Yes, I know no one cares but today I thought it was blog worthy.

I wasn't sure about this Brussels hostel. Dodgy neighborhood, sterile hospital like atmosphere, etc.. But I'm sold on it now that I have had breakfast. 2 types of bread- baguette and rye that come with an assortment of jams, cheeses, or Nutella, 2 choices of cereal, coffee/tea, orange juice and sweetened or non sweetened yogurt.

I could just eat a huge breakfast, snack lightly thoughout the day and then fill up the next morning.

Now I just need a decent map and to feel less like I have the flu, but flue bedamned, I am seeking out every nook and cranny of Brussels Art Nouveau!!

Little Zorro

IMGP4951, originally uploaded by smoooch.

She was playing with 2 little boys who were not dressed up. Very Sweet moment in a park I stumbled into not far from Champs Elysée.

Art Nouveau??

Well..

I managed to not get on a bus for Transylvania and have safely arrived in Brussels. I have to be honest and admit that I don't like it so far. It is drab and dirty. The metro stops are devoid of design or color. There are also packs of North African men pooling around the corners of streets and metro stops. In fact, there are parts that remind me of Morocco. Gaggles of women with their hair and bodies covered up in unattractive and bland garb, never travelling alone. Tea cafes with no women inside etc... And unlike Paris, very few people speak English.

My hostel is not far from the city centre. Hostel Generation Europe. I'm not sure but I think this was either a hospital or a school at one time. Most likely a hospital. Lino everywhere and long dark corridors. Very sterile but secure and clean. The Internet is cheaper than it was in Paris and readily available. No USB port connection that I can see, so pictures may have to wait.

I am also feeling a bit sick. I have a sore throat and sneezy. Eating lots of apples and oranges and drinking lots of water and juice when I can. Early to bed tonight for another fun filled day of walking. I think this is the only day so far where I have not clocked over 10000 steps. My feet could use the rest.

Last night I went out with my 2 roommates from my lovely Parisian hostel; Stephanie & Stephanie-both from Melbourne. They were really lovely girls and very funny too. They'd come to Paris to stay and work and were on a quest for an apartment. We went out and had a true Parisian hot chocolate (which cost 4 Euro each, but SOOOO good).

Hopefully, Brussels will step up and enchant me with its Art Nouveau.

xoxo
Jill

Au revoir Paris.

IMGP4890, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I got up very early this morning and did my laundry so that I can start Brussels with clean underwear and socks. I went down to the Notre Damn and waited in the already long line for the towers to open at 10 am. I paid the charge (they must make millions at 7.50 Euros each person and hundreds every day!), and climbed all 432 stairs to the sky scraping top. It really had to be done for the Chimera's and Gargoyles.

Now for a quick lunch and a few snacks and I'm off to the bus for Brussels.

xoxo
Jill

If I could

If I had money as no worry, I would move to Paris and buy a little apartment with shuttered windows and a tiny balcony. I would get a cat or bring Ruby and I would enrol in French lessons. I would spend the afternoons in the park with a pique-nique and ride the metro everywhere I needed to go. It is an enchanting city, that's for sure.

It is my last night, I have thought about eating out in a small cafe patio, but it would be something to share; not as a traveller alone. Instead, I spent the money on a small gift for my sister, who is kindly sharing the responsibilites of my apt with Michael.

Today, I found that a whole lot of Canadian students are here for the 90th anniversary of Vimy Ridge; Actually, 1 student for every soldier killed. I saw a whole pack of Canadian students today and said hello.

I also went to the Sacre Coeur and explored Montmarte. Portrait artists everywhere. It was alot like selling France to the tourists!!

Off to the Notre Damn first thing to go up the towers and then to my bus for Brussels!!!!

xoxo
Jill

For Vince

For Vince, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Baisser

IMGP4918, originally uploaded by smoooch.

This is Brancusi's "The Kiss". It's on a grave in Montparnasse Cemetary.

the life in Paris

the life in Paris, originally uploaded by smoooch.

bonjour mademoiselle

IMGP4971, originally uploaded by smoooch.

have a seat

have a seat, originally uploaded by smoooch.

la fromage

la fromage, originally uploaded by smoooch.

covered the size of a small city

I really don't know if my pedometer is recording my activities correctly. Today it says I have walked 24123 steps or 17.85 km. I have been recording these numbers and its feirce how far I have walked:

39140, 15.65km
26265, 18.38km
9989, 6.99km
25960, 18.43km
22779, 16.17km
21749, 16.09km
11736, 8.68km
26885, ?km

See what I mean? Some of those are recorded over 2days but some are one day excurions. If I keep this up, I'll be too tired to explore Brussels.

Since I have arrived in Paris, I have walked down the Champ Eleesyes, Blvd St. Germain, all over Cemeterie Montparnasse and Pere Lachaise, Rue Royal, the area around the Moulin Rouge (I have never been to anything more anti climactic in my whole life; it looks nothing like the postcards, pictures, movies etc), the Left Bank, the Notre Damn, The Eiffel Tower (I decided to not go up, due to the massive line ups and ridiculous price), Musee de Orsay, up and down the boulevards, down kooky little streets. I'm plum tuckered out.

Speaking of prices, it's very expensive under the Euro. I bought a one litre bottle of water and it was 3 Euro which is almost $6!! You have to be very careful to buy things in supermarkets and neighborhood shops and not in touristy places. This internet session will run 1.50 Euro for 1/2 hr and that almost up...

I do have tons of pictures to upload, just need to find a place that will let you attach USB sticks and camera equipment.

xoxo Jill

another day in Paris

The hostel is really nice.An old hotel in Montmarte. Hardwood floors and good pillows. Breakfst included is a small baguette, jam, cofee:tea, and orange juice. Its a sunny, bright blue sky day in Paris. Im off to photograph the cemeteries and anything else I may find.

xoxox
Jill

IMGP4796, originally uploaded by smoooch.

a tragedy

I jumped on the Metro in search of those Metro stations decorated with the designs of Hector Guimard. I had not gone one stop, when the metro stopped functioning. The announcements were unintelligable but when everyone else was getting off, I followed suit. A few people were looking down at the tracks between the cars and I looked too. Someone had jumped in front of the train.

Paris, like Prague is swarming with people. But here they are Parisiens, not tourists. People beg on the streets and on the trains and more than not they are truly in need. Not at all like the young drug addicts that hang around on the streets in Vancouver. This city is constantly on the move. It's alot like New York but somehow different. Shorter maybe.

I came home early and bought a Boursin cheese, a baguette, some pasta and some orange juice. I feel like going to bed early tonight.

mishaps and misadventures

Cesky Krumlov was a wonderful little town. Very peaceful and quite, except for the 2 snorers in the same room with me. And despite all the free coffee I drank, which gave me terrible jitters which translated into horrifying anxiety, I really enjoyed my time there.

I took the 3 hour bus trip back to Prague to make my 10pm bus to Paris. I made a dash downtown to buy an English magazine and a few treats and went to the platform ' for the bus. It was already there along with a crowd waiting to get on. There was this group of gypsies (well not really, they just seemed to be trying to take all there belongings with them) haggling with the bus driver about their many bags. There was even a bathroom scale out to weigh each one. I thought to myself, where the hell am I going? But when they closed the luggage doors and I still had my backpack with me and they opened the doors to the bus, I jumped on.

I settled into my seat, looked around and noted the sketchy and dodgy eastern Europeans surrounding me, but I was happy to have the seat next to me free. There was a baby crying behind me and the smell of sweat, cheap cologne and various food products pierced the air acridly. This is going to be one hell of a 15 hr trip.

The bus roared to life and started to pull out and I thought to ask the nearest person, "This bus is going to Paris right?".

They shook their head and said no, Roma.

ROME!! HOLY SHIT.I jumped up and ran to the bus driver, "This bus is going to Rome? Not Paris?" The bus came to a stop. "What are you doing on this bus? We are going to Romania!"

I thought it was odd that no one looked at my ticket. Thank god I got off that bus when I did. Rest assured, I am in Paris now, at the hostel.

And it is fabulously stinky, polluted, smoggy, and fantstic. Just the way I remembered it.

The crowds from atop.

IMGP4700, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Here's a link for more info on Prague's Astronomical Clock.

why didn't I come here earlier?

Have arived in Cesky Krumlov. A very lovely and peaceful little village. I am staying at the Hostel Merlin for only one night, but now that I am here, I wish I could stay at least for 2. There are no crowds and the hostel promises a quiet night. They even have free internet. In any case, I'm glad to be here. Glad to have all day and most of tomorrow, and glad to be away from the beer tap known as Prague.

Here is a link to the hostel I'll be saying in Paris.

xox
Jill

lonley ex-Jewish Ghetto- Terezin

IMGP4689, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Leaving Praha

IMGP4791, originally uploaded by smoooch.

On my way to Cesky Krumove for one night. I return to Prague tomorrow night only to make my Paris connection and then I will arrive in Paris on Tuesday at 1pm local time.

I have a what looks like a charming hostel booked for all three nights, The Le Montclair Hostel in the historically poetic and artistic Montmartre are of Paris. Should be very lovely, especially if the sun is hsining and I somehow manage to avoid a pack of roving drunken teenagers.

I¨m also going into the Euro Currency, which will make everything that much pricier. Hopefully, I¨ll be able to download all my photos as I continue on.

xox
Jill

Wow

IMGP4661, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Dear North America

Dear North America,

Please stop what you're doing. You're like a syrupy sludge that seeps into all cracks and crevices of culture. No matter what, you find a way to get in. Sometimes, you go by almost unnoticed and other times you are this garish obnoxious ooze that comes with an accompaning odor.

While I thank you for somethings. Like recognizable brands when I'm in need of something familiar, you know those days when you really want a Coca Cola and not one of those imitation brands that taste a little bit too something. But I kind of resent your presence while I'm on a bus travelling through the lush Czech countryside and Bryan Adams comes over a radio. That was just bad, North America. I could have laughed if it was Beyonce. But Bryan Adams? Or Prince when I'm grocery shopping in a foreign country?

What really got me was while visiting Prague, there was a stage set up for enetertainment as a part of the Easter celebrations. A band was playing and it was vagually familiar. Then it dawned on me, they were singing covers of Johnny Cash in Czech.

Believe me, the world will be fine if they can't buy Nike knock offs or buy Levi jeans. We North Americans can learn to feel at home in foreign countries if we can't by Heinz and Campbell's soup. Trust me. Please stop what you are doing and leave these little lovely countries to develop their own popular culture with out you blinding everyone senseless with all things North American.

You are not thwe whole world.

Thanks for listening,
JIll

travelling into the past

I jumped on a bus at the last minute and went to Terezin today. Terezin was a town when the Nazi's invaded the borders of the Czech Republic. They ordered all the citizen to leave and turned it into a ghetto for the Jews. Propaganda at the time, referred to it as a resort for the Jews; "Hitler has built a town for the Jews."

What it was, was a place to concentrate Jews until they could be "liquidized." The entire town, every single building was utilized. The Nazi's even built an auxiliary road around the town to keep people away. It was bizarre. Now, it is a town again. Very few of the original citizens chose to return after the war though. Almost every building has a marker on it, explaining its use during the time it was a ghetto. It was also nearly deserted. I saw a few people riding their bikes though town and a few children, but almost no one, except tourists that had come to Terezin to see the horrors of what it once was.

Now I know I have no interest in seeing any more Nazi history.

It felt very bizarre and odd and I felt terrible taking photos, so I almost didn't. After a while, I didn't want to see the old Jewish cemetery or other places "of interest". The first thing I saw was a memorial to all the children who had died at Terezin. I cried. All the saved drawings, the poems, the little pictures. Terezin was an anomaly of concentration camps. The Nazi's allowed art, theatre and music. Children were given drawing lessons. They did it to keep up the propaganda of being a "resort", of being desireable. But as a result, was these really amazing drawings, portraits, pictures, sketches and paintings that survived. Many of them so good, had the artists survived, we may know more about them today.

Unfortunately, many of those artists were caught with clandestine pictures and accused of creating "hate propaganda" or something. Most of them, when caught, were either killed or shipped to Auschwitz.

What a very strange day has it been.

I have also returned my ticket for Cesky Krumlov and arranged for earlier passage to Paris. I want to make sure that I have enough time to see all that I want in Paris and Brussels and I'd rather see Bruge. It will be a little bit more costly, but it's the reason I'm here. I knew that 4 days in Cesky would make me antsy and restless. Downside is that I'm having trouble booking a hostel in Paris. I seemed to have forgotten that its spring break in Europe and most students have the month off.

Fantatsic.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

trio

trio, originally uploaded by smoooch.

IMGP4484, originally uploaded by smoooch.

"Prague doesn't let goes of us either. The old crone has claws. One has to yeild or else. We would have to set fire to it on two sides, at Vysehrad and the Castle: only then would it be possible for us to get away. Perhaps you'll give it some consideration before carnival."

-Frank Kafka

Info for Mom

From this post, you can find more info about the Lorriane Cross here, on Wilipedia. I called it Lorraine's Cross, but it's not a possesive. Whoops.

on the move

On April 2 I will jump a bus for Cesky Krumlov, where I will stay for 4 nights, only because I couldn't get a ticket to Paris until the 6th. I am booked into the lovely and beguiling Hostel Merlin, where I plan to do nothing. Sit in cafes and write postcards and sip tea or bad Nescafe coffee. I will walk slowly and ponder the peeling plaster walls. I will relax and think of nothing that starts with L. I will photograph everything.

On the 6th, I take the bus back to Prague and wait 3 hrs and trek to another bus station for my bus to Paris. I have booked a single room for 72 Euro. A little treat in Paris to have my own room. Did I mention it's spring break and there are gaggles of teenagers roaming the city in slutty packs? They seem to recently discovered the delirious effects of intoxicating themselves to the nauseating point of obnoxiousness. Or is it just me getting old?

I'm looking forward to returning to Paris for a few things I forgot.

-14 Metro stations adorned with Art Nouveau entrances.
-The Moulin Rouge
-Musee D'Orsay for Impressionistic art
-Montparnasse Cemeterie for Brancusi's Kiss, properly
-The Eiffel Tower
-A Perfumerie designed by Mucha on Rue Royal
-Various buildings designed by Art Nouveau architect Hector Guimard
- a jewelery shop that Mucha designed on Rue Royal. Gee, I hope that's still standing.

By the way, did I ever mention that the term Art Nouveau came from a shop in Paris owned by Siegfried Bing called L'Art Nouveau? I'll die if it still exists.

I just found this interesting link which is a biography of who's who in Art Nouveau.

What a time I am having. What delicious inspiration. Paris will be such a thrill and then BRUSSELS, the birth place of it all

Happy birthday to me.

IMGP4393, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I'm 36 today. I'm spring born and an Aries. That means I'm headstrong, independant and fearless. If only I had a pretty yellow bonnet.

xox
Jill

make a wish

IMGP4495, originally uploaded by smoooch.

This is from the Charles Bridge.

You make a wish at Lorraine's Cross. As you can see the blackened tarnished metal is shined to a gold from all the hands that touched it. I hoped it wasn't like touching the foot of St. Peter at the Vatican and I had to ask someone who was St. Peter. I made the wish anyway.

observations

• Hardly any garbage cans.
• Hardly any garbage on the street.
• No one has an Ipod, not like North Americ where every second person has one.
• People aren't very fat despite all the grilled sausages and fried chicken cutlets sold on the streets.

It's amazing what a big salad, some fruit, and a lot of water can do for your emotions. And a big nap in the middle of the day. Feeling tons better and rejuvenated for sure. Tomorrow I will explore the area on the otherside of the river near the Castle. A few more Art Nouveau places to hunt down and maybe a little education into who Kafka was. Also, I plan to explore the old Jewish section which was a ghetto at one time. Just outside my hostel is Wenesclas Square, where the Nazi's paraded during the occupation of Prague. Really unbelievable what this city has been through.

I bought two bus tickets today. One for Cesky Krumlov, leave on the second of April and retun on the sixth. One for Paris, leave on the sixth about two hrs after I arrive from Cesky. Its a fourteen hr trip. Must find that English bookstore before I leave.

How many hands have opened this door?

IMGP4531, originally uploaded by smoooch.

For Michael

For Michael, originally uploaded by smoooch.

It's alittle out of sequence but.. I got on this bus for Michael. He said, "You should go to Hamstead Heath. I used to go there and watch football with my brother."

Hi Michael. I hope you're watching my blog.

email for Grandma and Mom

The hostel is OK. Nothing fancy. I thought I had the room to myself last night but someone came in quite late and woke me up. It's very near the old town in Prague and walking distance to everything I need. No real kitchen, just a microwave and a kettle. Hot showers that go on and on and a very cheap Internet place downstairs.

The Mucha museum is right around the corner. I went there yesterday and almost started crying because I was looking at the original Indian Ink drafts of Mucha's great posters and sketches. It was really amazing. Unbelievable. I'm sure I will burst into tears at the sight of Victor Horta's work in Brussels. They have some really beautiful prints for sale for about $15 and up. I will wait till before I leave and perhaps mail one back. I tried to navigate the post office and it was almost trickier than getting a bus ticket.

Speaking of bus tickets. I thought I would go to Telc for the day tomorrow (my birthday) but it's horrendous. I spent 1 hour walking from info desk to info desk to find that the bus will cost about $5 and take 3 hrs each way. It leaves at 6:20 and arrives at 9:30 and the last bus leaves at 3:30. Sounds like fun doesn't it. The bus station, located at one of the subway stops is a dreadful experience. Alot like the train station. It's a reminder of Communist rule and has sadly been left behind in the 70's. Dirty, dusty, poorly lit and confusing. Also a haven for drug addicts, hustlers and general weirdness. Alot like all bus stations I guess.

I'm not sure what I will do for my birthday. Maybe the Prague Castle or the Municipal House. Maybe a meal in a restaurant.

I bought a bus pass the 1st day for $14 but I have hardly used it. I have decided to just jump on a tram every day and see where it will take me and ride the same one back to not get lost. Yesterday, I have no idea where I went but it felt like I was under the iron curtain. Very cold and deserted with rows and rows of huge apartment buildings. Colorful dots of bedding and laundry dangle from lines hung across the balconies. ALOT of graffiti. In fact there is alot of graffiti all over Prague. I'm surprised the city doesn't clean it up. Guidebooks say that Prague is one of the most beautiful cities in the world but it may only be true for the old town.

The food on the street is all sausages and fried chicken cutlets. Everything in grease. A sausage and a piece of rye with mustard is about $2. I tried one and hated it- really fatty, so I just ate the bread. I tried a chicken cutlet the other day and now I have sworn off buying meat in the streets. Too dodgy. I couldn't tell if the chicken was cooked or not so I threw it away. I went to Tesco's this morning and bought:

-bag of salad,
-small packet of 1000 island
-bottle of water
-2 single serving yogurts
-4 apples
-smallest jar of jam
-packet of cream cheese
-2 bananas-
-2 small french loaves

and it was 179Kr or about $9 (1$=20kr). Pretty close to food on the Drive, I think. I'm definitely not eating as much as I would if I was at home. I am walking around 18000 steps or 9km a day if my little pedometers is accurate. I think it may be more than that judging on how sore my feet are.

I hate to say it but I'm feeling sad, teary and lonely today. It's difficult to spend all day long and never speak to anyone or only speak in limited English. Seeing lots of people travelling with friends, laughing etc. I guess I start to feel a little self conscious, alone, afraid. It's confusing and the Czech are very abrupt and sometimes rude and also very very shy, which makes it difficult to meet anyone. I guess I feel alone and confused and want everyone to be waiting with big pillows and open arms. Not the way it is. I also haven't eaten anything yet today so I'm hungry. I'll feel better after lunch. Don't get me wrong, I'm still thrilled to be here and having so much fun. Just a bit of the blahs with today's overcast weather this morning.

Lots of love,
Jill

Beautiful Praha

IMGP4479, originally uploaded by smoooch.

The Astronomical Clock in the Old Square-Prague

IMGP4521, originally uploaded by smoooch.

not singing

IMGP4527, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Everyone gathers at the Astronomical Clock in Prague to chime the bells and these little doors open and I think the Apostles come out and glare down on you. Anyway, behind me must have been 500 people waiting for the clock to chime, which was about 7 minutes away, so this woman had quite an audience.

While it looks like she is singing, she isn't. Nor is she dancing, although she did do a little jig during her sermon. She is actually yelling something at the top of her lungs. At one point she started shouting God is great and something that sounded like Allah. I half wondered about what suicide bombers reportedly shout before detonanting the bombs but her coat was open and she didn't seem to have any wires protruding.

In the end she was rather entertaining and the crowd cheered when she was done.

wherever you go, there they are

No matter what you do or where you go, the Hare Krisna will be there too. As in today, I went to the Municipal House in Prague, which is one of the finest examples of Art Nouveau architecture in Eastern Europe. There on the corner was a gaggle of robed men with shaved heads. A few had drums. Then the chanting began and they slowly paraded down the street, handing out a small piece of paper with the chant.

Incidentally, despite the amount of walking I have done (pedominter reads 14531 steps, 10.17 km, the blisters are better.

it will be an 11 hr train ride to Brussels

Um, I know this is the Czech Republic but I thought the communist rule was over. I found the main train station today and it reminded me what I thought it would be like to be in Siberia (except the sun is shining). It was dark and trapped in the 70's. Cold. Eastern Bloc Gangster types dozing off in little packs. Italian teenagers with slick hair and slicker sunglasses hang like greasy globs near the entrance. Little rotund old women with babushkas and walkers make their way through the prolific Coca- Cola signs.

The train to Brussels will make 15 stops and take 11 hours. There must be a better way. I heard the buses in Prague are faster than the trains. Really. I did hear that. And now I'm thinking it may be true.

Another sunny day in Prague.

If only I could find a decent Internet connection with the ability to download my photos without draining my batteries, I could show you the lovely lovely things I have seen. I am amassing quite a collection of doorknob photos. Every street has at least on building where the handle is either a lion, a swan, or some elaborately ornate structure. I'm not sure if the laughter seemingly whenever I stoop to photograph one is for me or just the many many tourists milling about.

I know for certain, when I walked into Hotel Europa, an Art Nouveau wonderland, the woman behind the desk clearly said, "oh it's just a stupid tourist gawking at the building again." Only she said it Czech.

Praha

With warm and sunny weather I headed out to explore the city of Prague. I can not believe sometimes how people are so blase about the architecture that surrounds them. Down the street from my hostel is a STUNNING building covered in Art Nouveau decoration. Huge stained glass doors that stand 16 feet high front the masterpiece. While I am outside agasp in disbelief, streams of people breeze past me, seemingly unaware.

I walked and walked and walked. I ate a spicy chicken panini with a draft beer out in the old town square and walked some more. I walked to Charles Bridge which is swarming with tourists like bees to honey on skin. I wandered alone the kiosks offering up the usual tourist kitzch and listened to the french jazz band and watched them drink wine out of the bottle. I smiled at them when they saw me watching and took their photos, with their lips stained red from the wine, faces red from a mixture of the sun and the booze.

I ducked inside a small door at the foot of the bridge and ascended the stairs, all the way to the top, I found myself out on a parapet looking over the city of Prague from all directions and then over the bridge itself. A city this beautiful, and you cant help but take beautiful photos. I only need to find a decent connection to get them on line.

I have ě blisters on the underside of each foot. This isn't going to be good if they get worse. The raw wool at the Pasu Sheep farm in Alberta, the weekend before I left is looking really good. I wish I had some.

One thing is for certain, is despite how beautiful and lovely and exhilarating it is, it is somewhat bittersweet to experience it alone. No one to say, ¨wow, look at that!". Well, there are the other tourists but they just look at you all crazy like.

xox
Jill

sunlight on row

in a row, originally uploaded by smoooch.

on my way

I said I wouldn't do it. I said I wouldn't sit an Internet terminals with unfamiliar keyboards that mangle the punctuation and letters I intend. But I can't quite contain my thrill at being abroad and all the things I have done since I landed 2 days ago. All the things I have seen so far!

London was great. I zipped around the city seeing all that I could. My host took me to the Flower Market near his home. If only I could photograph the sounds of the thick cockney accents shouting out "too-lips, get yer toolips for a tenner" "I got boonches of toolips for a tenner, a fiver if yer pretty" "Hey, you missy, get yer toolips." If only..

After that I went to the Portobello Market, Covenant Garden and there, I met a girl who gave me vague directions to the Banksy I eventually found and posted. Then I jumped on another bus and headed for Camden Town and further to Hamstead Heath, a part of town that Michael said he used to go to watch football. Not sure where he used to go, but I did see a lot of Indian take-away.

This morning I got up bright and early and caught my flight to Prague. First impressions were that it reminded me of Alberta. Farmers fields, brown trees, a bit of green AND A MAGPIE. I found my hostel easily enough and the city reminds me of Madrid. Big huge walking boulevards, youth hanging around in packs of trouble makers and lots of lots of people. Busy. I found my hostel, dropped the bag and logged in.

Just to say it¨s warm, sunny, beautiful weather. Nicer than Vancouver. I'm tired and my feet hurt a bit already but I¨m on my way to a beautiful and adventure filled tour around Europe.