A European Extravaganza
by Laura

Tuesday, June 8th: Arrive in Barcelona, tired and befuzzled. I had six hours between arriving at the train station and getting on an overnight to Paris, so I had to force my 5 am mind to explore the city.  I then managed to climb 200 stairs or so, with backpack, to this museum overlooking the city. Just off the right of the picture is the Mediterreanian, which cozies Barcelona right inbetween the water and the hills.

I departed in the evening and rode with this peculiar mother and daughter who were coming from Ibiza for a "family holiday", oddly enough.  I awoke Wednesday morning in Paris, refreshed and more than ready to rendevous with my friends.

Wednesday, June 9th: Paris. I ever so smoothly found my way to the Marriott on Avenue des  Champs-Elysees and found Dave and Elise groggy in their swanky room overlooking the lobby.  We then grabbed some lunch and headed to the catacombs.

I particularly liked how we stopped at every little hole in this passageway expecting to find bodies or skulls or perhaps a rat, but little did we know what we were in for.

Over six million bodies are in these catacombs, all brought here from graves back around Napoleon's time, as far as I remember. Man, what a swell job that would have been, to be the bone collector.  We bonded with the security guard for a while who for some reason took a liking to us and let us take pictures.  Some obnoxious cats were coming through there, picking up a femur or other limb and tormenting each other with it. Yeah, quality fun.

We carried on to the Lourve, after first attempting the Musee d'Orsay but scoffing at the line. It was more of a running tour of the Lourve than a calm appreciation. I had a moment with some of Leonardo's stuff, and a couple portraits by Raphael. I unfortunately stumbled upon the Mona Lisa along with 100 screaming middle schoolers. So I said hello to her and moved along.  I dug Michelangelo's slave sculptures the best.  But I am more partial to things I've learned about and actually remember...

Elise and I took off for a bit to find a nice cafe to have an itty bitty latte and act Parisian.  It took quite a while and we stumbled into some art gala with wine and cheese and lots of stiff French art connoisseurs.  Does this happen every Wednesday evening around 6? Or did they know we were coming? We'll never know for sure.  But we met back up with Dave, found a fabulous fondue restaurant, befriended the owner whose wife is from New Orleans and who now lives in San Francisco, imagine that. And so we drank good beer and had snails and oysters and lots of cheese and went home rubbing our happy stomachs. 

That evening we fell victim to the overpowering draw of the television and were caught watching mtv and the extreme sport channel until about 1 or 2 in the morning. But finally ventured out to some club where Elise weaseled us in for free and where Dave, as always, began "bartender talk" with the bartender there.  Elise and I were somehow tricked into dancing with two Frenchmen...or were they Italian? Regardless, one was an excellent dancer, but the other was dreadful. So we said au revior to them and eventually the club. Some workers, or were they patrons?, from the bar whose names were Papa and Bob, or something simple like that, ever so kindly took us to a gay club down the street called The Queen. I believe my favorite part was when Elise and I were trying to escape a couple of men by the normal method of running into the bathroom, when we realized that there is no escape when it is a co-ed bathroom. How tricky. 

Thursday, June 10th: Depart Paris, arrive in Amsterdam.  We got separated from Dave on the train over by missing a train...when the whole time we thought Dave had botched it up.  But on the train we met these friendly San Franciscian chaps who accompany us, and our reunited Dave, to dinner. They, along with their friend staying in the city, were a pretty square bunch, so walking through the red light district was reminiscient of walking down Bourbon St. with parents.  So we ditched them and were then ready to partake in some of Amsterdam's finest cafes. The 420 Cafe was our personal favorite. Cheesy, yet with a neighborhood bar feel.

Friday, June 11th:  In all honesty I feel this day has to be cut at a loss. We tried to do the brewery, we tried this, we tried that. I think we did a lot of ambling up and down streets, searching out food and buried treasures. We acquainted ourselves with the hostel. We bought frozen pizzas for dinner, and became acquainted with our favorite dancing hippo cellphone ring commercial.  That evening we did make it out to a disco, where I found a man with his hand in my bag. Scoundrel.

Saturday, June 12th: We finally mustered up the energy to see the city. First stop: the world famous Heineken brewery which turned out to be a bit overrated, yet something to mark off the list.

Mainly it was raving about the smiling "e" and the genius of this marketing tool. And then how good old Grandpa Heine wanted world peace and to use the empty beer bottles in third world countries to build homes. What a novel and BRILLiant idea! We gave props and moved on to the drums and then to the magic of internet cameras.

So after all the hoopla and a few extra beers, we stumbled on to the Anne Frank Museum. Because really, what's better than learning about the holocaust when you're under the influence and perhaps a bit emotional?  It just so happened that it was Anne Frank's birthday. So after the tour we stopped to give her a card, a cake, and an extra spank for one to grow on. One hell of a lady that Anne.

Sunday, June 12th: Haha. Should I even dare to describe...

"It's amazing. The pictures are alive. It's as if they missed me while I was away. 
They are so happy  Undergrowth so deep, rich, romancing.  The main tree undulates...And then we found
ourselves in this park - of pureness and purity and of all things right.  Away from the chaos of Amsterdam and
in a place where the sky is a most indescribable blue.  The grass is like a blanket so soft and perfect.  The clouds
dance in rhythm, and in a harmony with the buildings standing up to watch. 
Never wanting to leave. It is. Heaven."

Monday, June 13th:  We finally had the will-power to leave, so we said our quick good-byes to Holland and carried on to Prague. 

want more? wait till the next installment, Prague pirates and frisky Florentines!