Homeward Bound

This is long overdue, but I have been engrossed in A Fraction of the Whole, a 711-page piece of fiction that really blew my head over with philosophical rants and criminal idiosyncrasies. It was a great read, but I'd forgotten how often a book can take me away from very pressing matters.

Of course, blogging is not necessarily a "pressing matter," but it's a step up towards making progress towards actually being productive.

Anyway, I shall recount the last days in Europe briefly and then my long, long, LONG journey back to Hacienda Heights, Calif.

We had an awful travel day back to Belfast from Prague. We left at 7 a.m., arrived in Stansted at around 10:45 a.m., then hung about for a good 4-5 hours before we could check in for our flight to Belfast. It was a nice day, though, so we got a chance to walk around outside, within a few hundred meters of the entrance. Fun.

But oh! When we landed in Belfast, it was GORGEOUS weather! We didn't need jackets, we didn't have our heads blown off by wind, we didn't need hoods to cover soon-to-be-wet heads, and there was sunshine. Unbelievable.

Moreover, the weather continued to get better throughout the weekend. Every day was warmer than the previous one, which is apparently very strange for the island of Ireland in general. Everyone was telling us that during our two weeks of travel Ireland had awful weather of just cold, wind and rain, and the day we got back was the day it decided to get all nice and sunny. HAHA! Victory!

I was more thankful than anything, though, especially for the sun setting at 10 p.m., which meant that it didn't actually get really dark until after 11 p.m. Alan and I got to walk around along the coast every day, whether it be on sidewalks or along the beach. One day we had a picnic, another we got some whipped ice cream. I could not have asked for better last memories of Ireland. I really couldn't.


I wasn't ready for Tuesday morning. I think my flight itinerary had something to do with it, but, more than anything, I wasn't ready to leave Alan. I was looking forward to America, but I couldn't wrap my head around not being able to see this boy in person for a good 4 months at least. The drive to the airport was awful - we had nothing left to say, only all the dread to feel. He helped me with my luggage and waited with me in the departure lounge for a bit so I didn't have to wait long by myself. Alas, at 10:05, it was time for him to leave. He was already late to work and would have to make it up in the next few days. We parted ways, going towards our own realities, only being comforted that this wasn't the end.

It didn't help that the rest of the journey was an absolute nightmare. The Continental lady was nice enough to only charge me $50 for two oversized bags instead of $100. That was probably the only nice thing, in all truth.

My flight itinerary was as follows:
Belfast to Newark
Newark to Washington D.C.
Washington D.C. to Houston
Houston to Los Angeles

All of these departed less than an hour before the next one departed. What does this mean? This meant that I was running from airplane to airplane, from customs to domestic terminals, with pit stains growing disgustingly larger, all the while being paranoid that my luggage was going to go missing somewhere. Embarrassing, stressful, obnoxious.

When my plane finally landed in LAX, I was jetlagged and passing out in every flight (excluding the first two). Then, wonderfully, I found that my luggage misconnected! I would have to wait until the following morning to get it, adding on a few extra hours for delivery.

And that's what I did, except "a few extra hours" turned out to be more than 12 hours, and my luggage did not arrive at my doorstep until after 11 p.m. the next day. It was really nice to have it back because, to me, it signified the completiong of my hellish journey home. I was seriously a dud the day after I'd arrived, not even getting right to my errands, but just sitting around playing solitaire or reading A Fraction of the Whole.

Of course, I'm still doing that. Except! I've finished the book and now can begin living life normally once again. Maybe I can find a good cafe around here to sit, have a nice mocha, and do my work. Unfortunately, this sounds more European than anything, and I might get seriously disappointed that I will not find anywhere to do this.

Coming up next, culture shocks.

One of the little joys in life

I'm not quite up to writing another full post, so this will do for now.

At the end of our two-week trip, I was able to make a list of cities I've visited and cities in which I've run. I'm fairly satisfied with the list, though I know I could probably have had more under my belt. That's okay, though. I don't want to go as far as to say that was my last chance in Europe.

Here goes! I will list Country and then City because I think every city is different, and visiting one or two or even five cities within a country never means that you've traveled the country.

Cities traveled
A. IRELAND
Dublin
Killarney
Annascaul
Dingle Peninsula
Dun Laoghaire
Drogheda

B. NORTHERN IRELAND, UK
Belfast
Londonderry
Ballymoney
Coleraine
Portrush
Portstewart
Portballintrae
Ballintoy

C. ENGLAND, UK
London

D. FRANCE
Paris
Orleans

E. SCOTLAND, UK
Glasgow
Edinburgh
Isle of Skye
Inverness territory

F. ITALY
Venice
Florence

G. AUSTRIA
Salzburg
Part of Vienna (yes, we did explore a bit of it while we were there!)

H. CZECH REPUBLIC
Prague


Where I've run (in my life, not just during this past semester)
Cerritos, CA, USA
Riverside, CA, USA
Hacienda Heights, CA USA
Boston, MA, USA
Dublin, Ireland
Ballymoney, Northern Ireland, UK
London, England, UK
Glasgow, Scotland, UK
Drumnadrochit (of Inverness), Scotland, UK
Florence, Italy
Salzburg, Austria,
Prague, Czech Republic



I know how some people feel about lists, but it's a nice sense of achievement when you put it down and look at it. It always motivates you to keep going and adding on because there's really no limit, is there?

I liked running in Europe - it was a good way to see a lot of things and also take in the atmosphere. Least favorite place to run: Florence. Favorite place to run: Boston. Salzburg was a close second, though.

Catching up

Failed in getting Prague entry in, and now must do that as well as recount the last weekend in Northern Ireland, the journey back to California and readjusting to America.

1) PRAGUE

I can't say that we were exactly ready to get out of Salzburg when we had to, but it's all right. This trip was to get a good taste here and there of the different places of Europe, which it had served to do just rightly. We were pretty excited to see Prague, though weather forecasts were not providing cheery news. I guess there had to be an end to the sunshine and clear skies, and it looks like Europe was getting it in general, not just Prague.

Anyway, so the rain and the cold set us back a bit, since neither of us brought umbrellas (nuisances) and were getting physically exhausted from the entire trip. But we did get a good deal of walking around and exploring.

We were quite impressed with the city, actually. Not only is the transportation amazingly efficient--railway, bus, metro, surface-ground tram--the city itself is modern, trendy and clean. All the British designer stores are lined up nicely in every shopping complex we encountered (a lot), and there are plenty of the infamous icons of Western influence: KFC, McDonald's, Burger King and the like.

If there is one thing I regret, it would be that I did not fully appreciate the beauty of the gothic architecture there. Some of the buildings/monuments/tourist attractions are very impressive, looming over the city at intimidating and spiky heights.

A particular instance of "not fully appreciating" Prague came when we walked up to Prague Castle, known as a town within a town. Indeed it was like a miniature town and the actual palace is fascinating, but the sky chose to rain heavily during our time there, so we spent our time huddled under a little shelter waiting for it to get a little lighter.

But I digress. The point here is that as we were making our way to the castle, we saw a great view of Prague. I took pictures at a few angles - you know, the whole shabang - and then just went on, only realizing later that I didn't care. Alan had reached that point already, and I only remarked later, "Huh...we HAVE seen a lot of views haven't we?" Reply: "Yeah, and they all look the same."

Okay, they don't look EXACTLY the same, but city views are definitely similar. We still agreed that Salzburg was the best view because of the mountain ranges and the greenery all around. Prague had gorgeous gothic monuments sticking out here and there, and it was a lovely scene, but I guess...yes, it does look the same as everywhere else.

Even so, we had a great time in Prage. Food was ridiculously cheap, though clothes weren't. We got more international cuisine that was pretty decent, as well. Very good thing.

Oh oh! One more story from Prague visit....


2) Champions League Cup Final - Manchester Utd v. Barcelona

This happened during Prague visit, and there are a number of reasons why we had to watch this:
a. The Carsons have been lifelong avid fans of Manchester United
b. The Champions League Cup is one of the most coveted club titles in European football
c. Both teams playing are at the top of European clubs, so it promised to be a good game
d. No team had ever held onto the Champions League title two years in a row, and since Man. Utd won it last year, if they were to nab this one they would make history

Finding a Sports Bar wouldn't be too hard, we thought, so we just walked down our street and looked at the appropriate time. The first one we tried was a failure because it looked dingy outside and had the smallest TV screens. The second had good-sized screens and a table right in front of one of them, so we took it.

In the middle of the first half, a scantily clad girl jumps onto the bar counter and begins dancing at the pole. See, we hadn't even noticed that there was a pole there, though we did notice that the girl was dressed in a very revealing outfit. So then, we agree that if she's still doing her nonsense we'd leave at halftime.

Near the end of the first half, she's still doing her nonsense, which meant we were planning on leaving anyway. The next thing we knew, we looked at each other and said, "Her top is off."

And we left right then and there.

By the way, Czech beer may be cheap, but it tastes like it. Austrian beer is the way to go. Just a tip.


So this is long enough. I think I'll save the NI weekend and the trip home for a while later. I know this takes away from the accuracy of recounting my true feelings, but as I have been doing absolutely nothing with my life since I've gotten back to the States, I don't think there's much with which to replace those memories.