I'm becoming a monk

Our trip has been filled with more than a few downs, but the thing about traveling is for the up's. And sir, I had an up this morning.

We went out to Mont Saint Micheal, a monastery build on the only rock on the beach. The monastery itself is built to resemble a triangle, so it directs the eye to it stretching up into the sky against a 0 zero x-axis. We couldn't check our bags, so I got to haul my collective 45lbs up the monastery. What's nice is I'm finally getting used to it, I'm also getting quite the strong butt as well (I thought you guys would care). Anyway, the cool part about the place is the tide goes out in the morning and reveals a giant playland of shallow sand and clay to run out and scream and roll around in. Its been far my favorite place we're gone to, my only regret is I didn't have time to run out to the edge. But I'm already forming plans...



I did get to walk out a little, and more importantly, not slide down in the slimy clay. I wouldn't have cared really to fall, but then again it was like 60 degrees out. And a wet, muddy shirt isn't something you want to do a two hour bus ride to Caen in.





And I also posted on amused too.

Catch Up

I know I haven’t posted anything in sometime, but the internet time I have is usually consumed by the now 400 facebook messages I have going back and forth. Back in Oklahoma it was nice to kill an hour at night, now it’s a part time job (with no pay).

Anyway, London and Edinburgh turned on more of the slog side than the “this is so great” side of trip taking. Cold weather, constant rain, and an early injury on my Achilles made everything exhausting. But we did see everything; the only way I can be stopped on a trip is death. Or possibly Jane crying (Frank hasn’t yet to my knowledge).

(Read over on outraged about my exciting night in a train station)

Once we finally got to Paris though it’s been nicer. The weather has been better, and I think the miles of marching we’ve done have finally started to carve our bodies into wood. Another thing about Paris is that girls here are waaay more attractive than those in England. English girls it’s sad to say, must have great personalities, Scottish girls are so-so. Really, only the Chinese chicks in the city are anything to look at in London, but I’m sure their hearts are full of deceit and evil.

Anyway, back to Parisian girls, I just might be having a nation inclusive camp syndrome, but it’s better here. If only the place we were staying at wasn’t all quiet and such.

Along side the chicks, I do love the cheese shops, butchers, and small vegetable stands that still thrive in an urban center. Though super market chains are starting to creep into the scene now.

If anyone is still reading, I’ll try to pay more attention to the blog from now on.

Stupid me

I was actually beginning to wonder if I would have anything to write about on this trip. I mean Jane's not on this one, so there's not going to be the "if you say one more word I'm walking that direction and not coming back" fights. London was neat, but nothing really exciting. All the pubs (the latest things open) close around 11-11:30. You can go dancing, but ummmm, my ankle, yes, my ankle is why I can't go dancing.

We went up to Edinburgh with a hostel that didn't have anyone really staying there. Coupled with the constant rain and both of our severe lack of any cold weather clothes, both of us we ready to leave the Scottish capital.

Tonight we had planned to be in warm beds practicing our French in gay Paris. However, fate had other plans. Plans that mostly involved us missing the train we so desperately wanted. Plans that didn't involve us spending the night getting kicked out of a pub at 11:10, getting kicked out of a McDonalds at 12:00, and now sitting in the train station (its 12:30am) waiting for 5am when we can check into the stupid train that leaves at 5:30am. Now, we tried to get a hotel, but the combo of not having internet (I didnt know about the T-Mobile hotspot here), and not being able to find any lodging that had any rooms left us in our current, sad, state. Fortunately, my parents are the wind and adventure, and my hobo punching arm is warmed up.

I guess this really isn't interesting to anyone else. But I know TK readers have a strong social conscience. I mean, now I feel that much closer to the refugees fleeing Darfur.

Heart of the Empire

So I almost feel like I should recant my post on Amused (and I won't forget to link outraged). But after tonight I have my questions.

A few years ago they changed the laws in London that pubs/bars could stay open past 12. However, this by and very large hasn't changed. They all close an average of 11:30. I mean, this is the capital of the United Kingdom. This is a city of seven million people. And apparently it settles to bed around 10. Even gentle Norman in the summer doesn't follow this schedule. But I guess thats how they get so much done.

So the night life is pretty non-existent. But you when in Rome...I guess you just stay up because thats what you're used to.

In other news, we're staying at a Queen Mary University on the kinda outskirts of London. That means immigrants. There's plenty of "halal" (or the Muslim version of Kosher) fast food type places around. On the down side reading the menus I realized they're all Pakistani/Indian. So the precious little Classical Arabic I remember still doesn't do me any good.

On the plus side, there's tons of BBC's (British Born Chinese) around. Happy hunting. That is, until 11.