zzzing

You gotta watch this video of good ol' Bill Clinton ripping a new one for a sleazy Fox anchor.

If only we could have him as a President again.

Maybe even his wife?

the elusive bridge

I skipped over some parts of our European vacation, so maybe now is the time to fill in the gaps. First, of course, is the story of the Butt Bridge.

As soon as I saw that name on the map, I knew that it was crucial for me to get there and take picture next to the sign (and maybe take the sign itself). So, on our way out one night, I coaxed Susan into walking an extra mile in her very uncomfortable fancy shoes just to get to the bridge. I ran all around, hanged off the side, crossed it a few times, but nothing - no sign of any kind.

What a bummer.

am I part of the family now?

So, Susan's family had another reunion, and, as is my custom, I made an appearance to take part in the usual food eating and Heineken imbibing. This time around, I had a particularly long and deep conversation with one of Susan's uncles, after which he offered me a goose egg, and implied that I should consider eating it, if I wanted to become a part of the family.

Now, I'm all for becoming a Doan, but I did recall hearing something about these eggs, something to the effect of them having a small chick inside. But, I reasoned, it couldn't be all that bad, seeing how all the kids were eating them. My manliness was already tested on chicken feet and cow stomach, so surely I'd be able to pass this last hurdle.

Besides, little chicks are cute, right? And cute things, like lamb and quail, are very tasty!

I bravely broke the shell, sucked out the juice, and prepared for the feast with the requisite salt, pepper, and mint. Next, I sunk the teaspoon into the egg and produced something... well, it's kinda hard to describe. It looked like a tiny head of a dead pigeon, or maybe a perodactyl. For a split second, the head started at me with its underdeveloped eyes - but no more, since my honed reflexes enabled me to dump it into my plate without any of the Doans noticing. My stomach, trained by years of drinking, also held up - but barely, as it relocated very close to my throat.

Still, I had the whole "become part of the Doan family" thing in front of me, so I gingerly took a couple of miniscule spoonfuls, and made chewing noises while trying not to imitate Bush Sr. at a dinner with a Japanese Prime Minister. I must say, as far as deformed fetuses go, the contents of the egg were quite soft. Can’t tell you about the taste, because my brain decided to put a temporary restraining order on my taste buds.

I did not get the boost of energy that Susan’s uncle promised, but I guess I’m a Doan now, even if it was by the slimmest of margins.

For a great description of this dish, balut, as well as some appetizing pictures, check out this site.

24hrs?

The Porter Sq. Shaw's is now open 24 / 7. Next time I need my Apple Jacks at 4 o'clock in the morning, I know where to go!

hidden gems

Some videos that make the internet great:

Shakira (thanks Sunny)
Indian Pimp (thanks Johnny)
White and Nerdy (Sunny, again)

swisssh!

US loses to Russia

anekdoty

Susan found a great article that explains a lot about Russian humor. This should be required reading for all my friends.

boo-hoo

Well, Schumacher is finally calling it quits, after years of being the super-Nazi of Formula 1. My dream of watching his red Ferrari become redder still through the means of a fireball may not come true, but hey, maybe the sport will benefit from not having Michael c-block and blame everybody but himself.

pic-tures

Photos from our European tour are up. I'm running up against the limitations of the free Flickr account... time to upgrade? Or just open another free account? ;p

most romantic day of them all

Certainly, people all over the world are wondering, what was that "gift" that Susan got on that bridge over the Seine? Well, it wasn't a gift as much as a promise, an eternal "thank-you", and a down payment on all the great things still to come...

Susan was taken by surprise, but thankfully not so much so that she didn't say "Yes". Good thing, because otherwise the tourists would not have understood what caused the Russian to jump over the railing.

Seriously now, I can't describe in words what we felt, just as I can't describe the road that we took to get here. Right there was a moment when everything else faded into the background, only to highlight what's important.

Love ya, sweetheart!

dublin, day three - rest of life, day one

In the morning, we ventured on the North Side for some F1 merchandize. It took me a few moments to realize, once I got inside the racing shop, that this Ireland, and the Irish have a *certain dislike* of the Brits. So, no McLaren shirts for me. Bummer.

Next was the Guinness brewery tour. Let me start by saying that the brewery is THE #1 most popular tourist attraction in Ireland, and for a good reason. It was fan-tastic! The multimedia presentations on every corner, the through retelling of the history, the fresh pint in the Gravity Bar - it was great! What a way to round off the vacation!

Well, all that was left was getting home... staying up until 7AM to catch the plane to Heathrow, getting frisked, all part of the deal. Let me tell you, getting back home was something special all right.

I missed you, Boston, you unimportantly loveable city!

dublin, day two

Now reunited (of course), the couple went off to explore the Trinity college, Dublin Castle, Grafton St., and a whole lot more. Our favorite stop was the St. Stephen Green - a fantastic, low-key garden right in the middle of all the shopping places. What a great place to catch some rest.

I'm gonna skip some parts (remind me later to write about a certain bridge over the Liffey) - let's get to one of the highlights of our stay in Dublin. In one of the pubs of Temple Bar, we met the most sincere, down-to-earth, but also very intelligent Irish person ever: Naille.

He may not look like Brad Pitt, but you could tell that he was a very kind person. We talked about everything and anything, including the O'Connell "syringe" and the Irish sinks (again, more on that later). Nice to see that there are decent people everywhere, and even nicer to run into them completely by random.

paris, day six - dublin, day one

On this day, we had to get ourselves and all the associated luggage to Dublin. Step one of that process required us to wait in a huge parking lot for a bus that went to Beauvais airport... let's just fast-forward ahead six hours and say that there is a reason Ryanair tickets are cheaper than a tank of gas. We did get to the hostel (oh yes, you read that right: my first hostel experience!), and that's all that counts. The place, Ashfield house, could not be more centrally located - it is literally steps away from the O'Connel bridge. However, Susan and I did not make it to the room without having a huuuge disagreement about the currency rates. Don't worry, we've made our peace, but our quarrel gave me a unique chance to explore the city alone ;)

I walked along the Liffey all the way to the port, taking in the city that is clearly getting a major facelift. Actually, it's more of a full facial reconstruction. You can see how thoroughly the developers are sweeping through the old muck to build modern steel-and-glass buildings. Yes, some of the city's charm will be lost in the process. I thought about this over a pint of Guinness in a pub that was made authentic enough to attract a tourist like me. With an Irish band playing in the room, I reasoned that in today's world, a tradition may not carry on unless somebody found a way to make it profitable. On a flip side, should customs disappear if they're not making money? "Real" pubs do not bring as much cash, and they are getting harder and harder to find - does that mean that we should let evolution take its course? I don't know. Jumping ahead, I will say that most of our euros sunk into the gentrified district of Temple Bar, a Disneyland version of Ireland. In fact, some of our cash now belongs to totally American institutions. Burger King comes to mind; there are three of them within a block radius of the O'Connel bridge. Yup, when I'm eating a Whopper, it's hard to think green pastures and leprechauns.

paris, day five

This time around, we actually managed to catch the petit dejeuner at the hotel, which means that we woke up before 9AM. I took Susan on a short tour of Ile St. Louis, and then we made an attempt to find Paris' Chinatown. Our attempt failed, but we did find a nice park full of little kids and schoolchildren enjoying their lunch cigarettes.

Much of the day was dedicated to shopping, much to Susan's amusement, and my silent suffering. Rummaging through Forum de Halles produced quite a find - a shirt that wasn't quite eurotrash, but very cool nevertheless. Our shopping tour de force ended up in the Latin Quarter, and we finished the day with a fancy dinner at the Astiers. Plates of cheese aside, that place did not quite measure up to le Pot de Terre in terms of the value/satisfaction ratio.

paris, day four

We spent most of the day in Versailles - a huge expanse of nothingness sprinkled with trees and burned by the sun. We opted not to go inside the palace, but instead walked for miles and miles through the gardens (yes, yet more walking...) Some awesomely sweet photo opportunities presented themselves, but we did wish we rented that golf cart in the morning.

At nite, we had another great dinner at Le Pot de Terre - I've had my first escargots, and they were de.licio.us!! It tells you something about the food if you come back even during a vacation.

paris, day three

That bottle of wine did not make waking up any easier the next morning, yet we had much to do! The morning started off a bit dreary, so naturally I took Susan to the cemetery on Montmartre. We never found Degas' final resting place, but the experience was humbling nevertheless. Getting to Sacre Coeur required some alpine-like climbing through the narrow streets, but once we got to the cathedral, we were rewarded with a magnificent view of the city - it is staggering how huge Paris is.

In the afternoon, we did some shopping: I set myself a goal to find a totally Eurotrash Tshirt, one with random words and letters all over the place. Despite walking through the Left Bank and Champs Elysse, I have failed at my mission. All I could find were shirts printed in English... I can find that at home!

Susan, not to be outdone, made a find of her own: she ran into a girl whom she met in New Zealand. Imagine the chances of that happening! Only in Paris, I guess.

Impressions so far: Paris seems very safe, tourist-friendly, and very affordable - much more so than London. The only downside is that dogs (and humans, it seems) have an unfortunate habit of defecating and urinating everywhere. Ah the magical scents of Europe!

paris, day two

After we paid for the shower (oh yeah... no wonder the French smell so bad!), we were ready to hit the museums. Exploring the Louvre was like running a marathon through an art gallery... yes, it is very, very huge, but the ambiance does not measure up to the Hermitage. It did help, however, that we timed our visit to fall on the first Sunday of the month, when we didn't have to pay for any tickets ;)

We decided to grab a quick lunch Parisian-style - just a baguette. To find one, however, we must've walked ten miles. EVERYTHING is closed on a Sunday... wtf. Finally, after many interactions with the locals, we got our snack and returned to Musee d'Orsay for some more art gawking.

I know it sounds like a lot of walking, but we weren't done yet. We had a little picnic in a park close to Notre Dame, then walked all the way to Bastille, where I fully expected to find the fortress intact. No such luck - it was demolished a long time ago. We ended up grabbing some ice cream, and walking across Paris (again) to Rue Montregueil, where we polished off a bottle of Bordeaux in a very typical cafe.

paris, day one

The first site we saw in Paris (not counting the crowds in the airport and the panhandlers on the train) was the Notre Dame. At first, it failed to impress me - I expected something much larger and more impressive. I have since changed my opinion, since we see that building several times a day. Yes, our hotel is literally down the block from N.D.

The hotel definitely deserves a mention. Without a doubt, it is THE best location in town, right on the Ile de la Cite. Just as surprising are the rates, which are very reasonable. The surprise wears off once you see the furniture - somewhat shabby - and realize that the bathroom is down the hall. Still, for our buck, it doesn't get any better.

We walked through the Louvre to les Invalides, got lost on the expansive subway, had dinner at Le Pot de Terre, and strolled through the Latin Quarter. Our next outing took us to the Eiffel Tower, where I gave Sue a gift she really enjoyed.

paris, getting there

Our trip overseas was a taxing one - and the taxing part started on the red line, where a screaming couple delayed the whole train. American Airlines greeted us with a line of magnitude that I remember only from the old country; then, an old Asian lady who was in the security line right in front of me had to part with her makeup bottles one by one... finally, the flight attendants herded us into seats that forced us to pretend like we're doing ab excersises - only without a chance to unbend. All of this would be OK if the drinks would be free, but guess what - $5 a pop if you want anything alcoholic. Oh the torture.

status check

So, I'm in Paris, somewhere south of the Latin Quarter, waiting for our favorite-so-far restaurant, Le Pot de Terre, to open - in a typically French fashion, it stays closed until 19:00. This trip has been outstanding so far; let me try to give you a little summary.

off to U-rope

I just realized I have 5,000 pictures on my camera that will probably never be posted anywhere. Oh well. Here's one that I really like: that's the devil child from Hakeem's BBQ. The kid is wicked nice, but she's got the energy of several nuclear warheads. Looks like she's really unhappy with Susan...

Well, in a few short hours, we be peacing out to France, and then, after a few romantic days, off to Dublin. We'll take pictures, if any part of our luggage containing any sort of a camera makes it overseas.