VIANO DO COSTELO
Spent the day Saturday on the sightseeing agenda. The first place was the Palacio do Bolsa, which used to be the stock exchange/commerce center for the Port wine companies back in the day. Now its not much more than a impressive building that holds functions. Anyway, while waiting for the guided walk through, met a korean guy over for the tourny. Brushed up a bit on my Korean and ended up cruising around with him the rest of the day. Hit up a church on the same grounds as the P do B which Napaleon saw fit to use as a horse stable back in his romp through europe. Still in nice enough condition considering. Then across the river to walk through a port lodge, this being the only place in the world that, officially at least, port can come from. Had a few tasting afterwards and indeed it does have a bit more kick than wine. Last stop was the Torree do Dos Clerigos, a 76m tower built over the course of 70 years a few hundred years back. Nice views from the top out to the Ocean.
Went out to the fan zone to watch sweden/holland that night, and picked up a ticket for the Denmark / Czech game while there. Only wish I had known the supply/demand equation was a bit skewed and tickets were being given away at match time. Ended up stopping in for a pint at a bar at halftime, and didnt leave til after Holland won on penalties. Had a good laugh with some English, French, and Swedish jokers. Set off to the riverside square area where all the euro crowd congregates after the match. Had some good chats with people from just about everywhere, including some portugese locals, who seem to disappear into crowds of foreigners. When the sun started coming up I knew it was time to go home.
Alrite, woke up late enough Sunday, and called the phone number that had appeared in my pocket. Ah, yes, Sonja, who I started talking to after asking her for a pen. So met up with her before the game and got a ride to the stadium then chilled in the park until kickoff. Was suprised to see thousands of empty seats at the match. Czech won, and in such a manner that they are either extremely confident or arrogant, but given their results, id have to say the former. Went out again that night and met the best mate of the co founder of the st pats football team in korea. Spent most the evening chatting away with him as his mates.
Monday set off for Viana do Costelo for the last three days in Portugal. Got to the campsite near the beach a bit late as the bus schedules weren't golden. Small little place, but a 3 minute walk to the beach, so nice enough. Met up with some Aussies traveling Portugal in a motorhome and a few French, and after the security had enough of our antics, set off for the beach where we threw together a impromptu but impressive campfire. Good times.
Tuesday got my first serious sun laying on the beach, and definetly underestimated its strength, as i now have a nice shade of red on a good part of me. Gotta start somewhere though. Its Wednesday now and I am back in the town, staying in a pension tonight as portugal and holland play their semifinal tonight. Should be a good match, and celebration, once again, if portugal wins. Then Thursday its on to Spain, and my current iteniary has me going from Vigo to Santiago de Campostela to San Sebsebastion over the course of about 2 weeks. And possibly into Pamplona for the last days of Fiesta de San Fermin, or, more commonly, the running of the bulls.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Friday, June 25, 2004
FESTA DO SAN JOAO & NOS SOMOS CAPEONES
Woke up the first morning of camping to the sound of rain falling on my tent. A quick look around assured me that everything was dry and my camping skills weren´t gone completely. Little did I know that I would awake to rain the next four days as well. Every day of camping, rain, except for the this morning.
Tuesday went for a bit of sightseeing in Braga. Way back when, the Iberian Christians set about recreating Jerusalem in their town so as to shorten the distance of the pilgramage to Isreal. The result is a stunning Church on top of a hill overlooking the town. Took the bus to the site, and decided against the cable car to the top and opted for the steps. 592 steps and a few buckets of sweat later, I made it to the top, and it was well worth it. The whole site was designed symbolically, with the zig~zag staircase at the top depicting the stations of the cross, and fountains on the way up depicting the sense with water flowing from the ears, then eyes, and so on. A great view of the city from the top could have been better had it not been for the ever present clouds. Back at the campsite, my neighbors, a man and his son from Holland, hooked me up with some BBQ for dinner, made even nicier by the pounding rain. Set off into town with them for the gathering of the orange prior to their match the next day. Good times out messing about with the dutch and the others mingling about.
Wednesday. The day of Festa do San Joao. Had a notion to go to the match, but opted instead to watch it on the big screen in the town square. Ended up chatting to a spanish man and his family, picking up a few good pointers for the travels in Spain. Holland won 3~0, and Germany lost, so the Dutch would advance. And they would party. All night. But despite their partying prolifics, couldn´t come close to the Festa. Imagine, a town of 150,000 or so, hosting a good 250,000, in the streets, the square, the park, anywhere. And for some reason, which no one seems to know, the main attraction of this party is hitting everyone and anyone on the head with a plastic, toy, squeaky hammer. You just cant imagine it until you´ve seen it. The 2 km main Avenida, full of people, and all you can see is hammers banging away on heads. And the accompanying squeaky sound that goes with it. Madness. Walked down and back up the street, having now acquired my own hammer, just laughing at the whole scene. After a few hours of this, figured I might call it an early night as it was 1am, so started walking back. The whole issue that arose here is my campsite is but a few hundred meters from the carnival, with music blasting, and hammers squeaking. Anyway, walking back, I get mauled by a group of 8 university girls, banging away on my head. After I took a pounding, they must have felt pity, so they insisted on me joining them, not really believing an American could be in Braga during the Euro, walking so down the street. So for the next 3 hours, messed about with them, including a ride on the FlipTop, just imagine, at the carnival. Then off to a sidestreet cafe for a beers and coffee away from the madness. At some point I was offered a guided tour of the city the following day, so lined that up alrite. Made it back to the campsite round 4 or so, and was certainly not even close to the last man standing in the streets.
Thursday hooked up with my aforementioned tour guide and cruised about for a bit. Experienced the mystery of Braga, as there is a 50m stretch of road, inclined slighty, where a car stopped and put in neutral with roll uphill. Aparently its been studied and theres no explanation. Also went out to the stadium, which is pretty impressive. Set off to the town square around 6, and got a patch of concrete not to far from the tele for the portugal~england match. The rest of the previous nights crew joined up, and by the time the match started, must have been close between 50,000~~75,000 there watching. The celebration was quieted early as England scored 3 minutes in, and it seemed destined to end that way until portugal drew even with only 7 minutes left. Into extra time, the first 15 minutes nothing, then portugal scored with about 10 minutes left. Jumping, screeming, yelling, singing, you name it. Could only imagine the scene in Lisbon or Porto, with 5 times the number out in the streets. Yet again, silenced by an England goal only minutes later. Penalties. Suspense. Nerves. First up Beckham, and, amazingly, missed again, over the top. One portugese miss put it even again, and into extra rounds. Finally, the seventh for England missed, and the portugese keeper ended it with the best penalty of all so set things off again. All the same as the Spain game, just a bit more. After some eats, went to the apartment of one of the girls and camped out for a birds eye view of the ensueing fireworks show, which was only delayed by an hour and a half. Nice show, although half the fireworks were lost in the huge cloud of smoke created. And that was that.
Am in Porto now, figure on staying 3 nights. Czech~Denmark play up here Sunday, so should be good times. In other news, I am now officially out of the Army as of 23 June, the prior being vacation days. And, more good news, got the rest of the money due me, so things are looking good. Except there will be NO more money coming in, just out. Also, sorted out the photos so the ones from Bali are now up. And I´ve gone 5 days now without losing another camera! Quite an accomplishment for me. Should have some more up this weekend as the internet cafe here is cheap and fully equipped.
Woke up the first morning of camping to the sound of rain falling on my tent. A quick look around assured me that everything was dry and my camping skills weren´t gone completely. Little did I know that I would awake to rain the next four days as well. Every day of camping, rain, except for the this morning.
Tuesday went for a bit of sightseeing in Braga. Way back when, the Iberian Christians set about recreating Jerusalem in their town so as to shorten the distance of the pilgramage to Isreal. The result is a stunning Church on top of a hill overlooking the town. Took the bus to the site, and decided against the cable car to the top and opted for the steps. 592 steps and a few buckets of sweat later, I made it to the top, and it was well worth it. The whole site was designed symbolically, with the zig~zag staircase at the top depicting the stations of the cross, and fountains on the way up depicting the sense with water flowing from the ears, then eyes, and so on. A great view of the city from the top could have been better had it not been for the ever present clouds. Back at the campsite, my neighbors, a man and his son from Holland, hooked me up with some BBQ for dinner, made even nicier by the pounding rain. Set off into town with them for the gathering of the orange prior to their match the next day. Good times out messing about with the dutch and the others mingling about.
Wednesday. The day of Festa do San Joao. Had a notion to go to the match, but opted instead to watch it on the big screen in the town square. Ended up chatting to a spanish man and his family, picking up a few good pointers for the travels in Spain. Holland won 3~0, and Germany lost, so the Dutch would advance. And they would party. All night. But despite their partying prolifics, couldn´t come close to the Festa. Imagine, a town of 150,000 or so, hosting a good 250,000, in the streets, the square, the park, anywhere. And for some reason, which no one seems to know, the main attraction of this party is hitting everyone and anyone on the head with a plastic, toy, squeaky hammer. You just cant imagine it until you´ve seen it. The 2 km main Avenida, full of people, and all you can see is hammers banging away on heads. And the accompanying squeaky sound that goes with it. Madness. Walked down and back up the street, having now acquired my own hammer, just laughing at the whole scene. After a few hours of this, figured I might call it an early night as it was 1am, so started walking back. The whole issue that arose here is my campsite is but a few hundred meters from the carnival, with music blasting, and hammers squeaking. Anyway, walking back, I get mauled by a group of 8 university girls, banging away on my head. After I took a pounding, they must have felt pity, so they insisted on me joining them, not really believing an American could be in Braga during the Euro, walking so down the street. So for the next 3 hours, messed about with them, including a ride on the FlipTop, just imagine, at the carnival. Then off to a sidestreet cafe for a beers and coffee away from the madness. At some point I was offered a guided tour of the city the following day, so lined that up alrite. Made it back to the campsite round 4 or so, and was certainly not even close to the last man standing in the streets.
Thursday hooked up with my aforementioned tour guide and cruised about for a bit. Experienced the mystery of Braga, as there is a 50m stretch of road, inclined slighty, where a car stopped and put in neutral with roll uphill. Aparently its been studied and theres no explanation. Also went out to the stadium, which is pretty impressive. Set off to the town square around 6, and got a patch of concrete not to far from the tele for the portugal~england match. The rest of the previous nights crew joined up, and by the time the match started, must have been close between 50,000~~75,000 there watching. The celebration was quieted early as England scored 3 minutes in, and it seemed destined to end that way until portugal drew even with only 7 minutes left. Into extra time, the first 15 minutes nothing, then portugal scored with about 10 minutes left. Jumping, screeming, yelling, singing, you name it. Could only imagine the scene in Lisbon or Porto, with 5 times the number out in the streets. Yet again, silenced by an England goal only minutes later. Penalties. Suspense. Nerves. First up Beckham, and, amazingly, missed again, over the top. One portugese miss put it even again, and into extra rounds. Finally, the seventh for England missed, and the portugese keeper ended it with the best penalty of all so set things off again. All the same as the Spain game, just a bit more. After some eats, went to the apartment of one of the girls and camped out for a birds eye view of the ensueing fireworks show, which was only delayed by an hour and a half. Nice show, although half the fireworks were lost in the huge cloud of smoke created. And that was that.
Am in Porto now, figure on staying 3 nights. Czech~Denmark play up here Sunday, so should be good times. In other news, I am now officially out of the Army as of 23 June, the prior being vacation days. And, more good news, got the rest of the money due me, so things are looking good. Except there will be NO more money coming in, just out. Also, sorted out the photos so the ones from Bali are now up. And I´ve gone 5 days now without losing another camera! Quite an accomplishment for me. Should have some more up this weekend as the internet cafe here is cheap and fully equipped.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
DISASTER & PORTUGAL A-LE
The France Croatia match was well worth the effort of getting the ticket. The atmosphere in the stadium was great, and the Crotian fans had the French outnumbered by about 50%. France took a 1-0 lead off a own goal on a free kick by Zidane, and controlled the first half, which was sloppy and not too exciting. The Crotians came out on fire in the second, putting away 2 goals in the first 15 minutes. The French were struggling to regroup, and had nothing going for them until an errenant back pass was incercepted and put in for the equalizer. Croatia should have won it in the final minutes but their striker put it over the top after a tremendous effort to get in position to shoot. Good luck for myself overall, as in the two games, 6 of 7 goals were scored on my end of the pitch.
Into Aveiro the next day, to find no accomodations available under €50 for that night. Made a reservation for the following night, and left my luggage in the tourist office and set off for the night. The town was becoming more orange by the hour as the dutch fans rolled in for their game with the Czech´s the following night. After watching Italy-Sweden in the town, went off for a concert and fireworks show on the other side. Concert was less than stellar, but the fireworks stage right in front of an old factory and set to music was impressive. Spent the next few hours hanging out in the town square where the crowds congregated then off to a disco for the wee hours. Made it to the park for a few hours of sleep by half 5 or so.
Woke up at nine to realize the worst of fears - my camera was no longer with me. Along with an extra battery, 3 memory cards, and my usb storage drive. Devastating. Only thing I can figure out is that it was stolen from the disco, where I checked my day pack in the coat check. Other than that, nothing makes sense. So thats three cameras down in less than three years - Honduras, Korea, and now Portugal. Seems I might lose one camera in every continent. Nice work.
The whole town was filled with about 15,000 dutch fans by early afternoon, they must have had a good 8 hours of drinking and partying in by match time. The unlucky thousands without tickets gathered round the big tele in the fan zone to watch the match, and I was drowning in the a sea of orange in the midst of it. Seemed the perfect script was playing out as holland took a 2-0 lead in 20 minutes, but the czech´s had other plans, as they fought back and took a 3-2 lead, and held on for the victory. At which point the hangover seemed to set in on the dutch, a very distraught group they were at this point. The Czech-skees were making up for it, singing and dancing into the night.
Sunday set off to Porto were I got over the pain of the lost camera, and brought myself to buy another one. Some way to blow a few weeks worth of the budget. So to balance that out, I also bought a tent so I could sleep for €5 per night instead of €25. So should only take a month of camping to make myself even again.
After blowing the bank it was on to Braga. A enjoyable 45 minute walk with all my gear through crowded streets brought me to the campsite, where, once again, I find myself surrounded by dutch, who are quite experienced campers by the looks of it. Their set up certainly beats my one man tent with no accessories. Watched the crucial Portugal-Spain match that night at the outdoor bar/restaurant in the campground with my neighbors, go figure, a few dutch guys. A rather uneventful match was changed with a brilliant goal by the second half sub Nuno Gomes, and the Portuguese held on to beat Spain 1-0, which was made even sweater for them in that it sent the Spanish out of the tourny.
The party in the streets of Braga after that was ridiculous. The main street was filled with cars, waving flags, honking horns, and whatever else for hours. Those that werent driving were lining the streets and celebrating all the same. Took us a good 2 hours to wander up the street, usually in the middle of it, having a laugh with all those driving by. Made it up to the main square by about 1230, and the party there even bigger. Hung out there talking to the locals and hearing them declare Portugal ´´the best team in the world, ever!´´ If they manage to beat England, who knows what will happen, but I plan to be in Porto for that one.
Plan is to stay here in Braga til Friday, hopefully scoring a ticket to the Holland-Latvia match tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the biggest festival of the year here in Braga, so regardless it will be off the hook.
The France Croatia match was well worth the effort of getting the ticket. The atmosphere in the stadium was great, and the Crotian fans had the French outnumbered by about 50%. France took a 1-0 lead off a own goal on a free kick by Zidane, and controlled the first half, which was sloppy and not too exciting. The Crotians came out on fire in the second, putting away 2 goals in the first 15 minutes. The French were struggling to regroup, and had nothing going for them until an errenant back pass was incercepted and put in for the equalizer. Croatia should have won it in the final minutes but their striker put it over the top after a tremendous effort to get in position to shoot. Good luck for myself overall, as in the two games, 6 of 7 goals were scored on my end of the pitch.
Into Aveiro the next day, to find no accomodations available under €50 for that night. Made a reservation for the following night, and left my luggage in the tourist office and set off for the night. The town was becoming more orange by the hour as the dutch fans rolled in for their game with the Czech´s the following night. After watching Italy-Sweden in the town, went off for a concert and fireworks show on the other side. Concert was less than stellar, but the fireworks stage right in front of an old factory and set to music was impressive. Spent the next few hours hanging out in the town square where the crowds congregated then off to a disco for the wee hours. Made it to the park for a few hours of sleep by half 5 or so.
Woke up at nine to realize the worst of fears - my camera was no longer with me. Along with an extra battery, 3 memory cards, and my usb storage drive. Devastating. Only thing I can figure out is that it was stolen from the disco, where I checked my day pack in the coat check. Other than that, nothing makes sense. So thats three cameras down in less than three years - Honduras, Korea, and now Portugal. Seems I might lose one camera in every continent. Nice work.
The whole town was filled with about 15,000 dutch fans by early afternoon, they must have had a good 8 hours of drinking and partying in by match time. The unlucky thousands without tickets gathered round the big tele in the fan zone to watch the match, and I was drowning in the a sea of orange in the midst of it. Seemed the perfect script was playing out as holland took a 2-0 lead in 20 minutes, but the czech´s had other plans, as they fought back and took a 3-2 lead, and held on for the victory. At which point the hangover seemed to set in on the dutch, a very distraught group they were at this point. The Czech-skees were making up for it, singing and dancing into the night.
Sunday set off to Porto were I got over the pain of the lost camera, and brought myself to buy another one. Some way to blow a few weeks worth of the budget. So to balance that out, I also bought a tent so I could sleep for €5 per night instead of €25. So should only take a month of camping to make myself even again.
After blowing the bank it was on to Braga. A enjoyable 45 minute walk with all my gear through crowded streets brought me to the campsite, where, once again, I find myself surrounded by dutch, who are quite experienced campers by the looks of it. Their set up certainly beats my one man tent with no accessories. Watched the crucial Portugal-Spain match that night at the outdoor bar/restaurant in the campground with my neighbors, go figure, a few dutch guys. A rather uneventful match was changed with a brilliant goal by the second half sub Nuno Gomes, and the Portuguese held on to beat Spain 1-0, which was made even sweater for them in that it sent the Spanish out of the tourny.
The party in the streets of Braga after that was ridiculous. The main street was filled with cars, waving flags, honking horns, and whatever else for hours. Those that werent driving were lining the streets and celebrating all the same. Took us a good 2 hours to wander up the street, usually in the middle of it, having a laugh with all those driving by. Made it up to the main square by about 1230, and the party there even bigger. Hung out there talking to the locals and hearing them declare Portugal ´´the best team in the world, ever!´´ If they manage to beat England, who knows what will happen, but I plan to be in Porto for that one.
Plan is to stay here in Braga til Friday, hopefully scoring a ticket to the Holland-Latvia match tomorrow. Tomorrow is also the biggest festival of the year here in Braga, so regardless it will be off the hook.
Friday, June 18, 2004
WINGIN´IT
AVEIRO, PORTUGAL
Upon wrapping up the last post, I set off on a rather aimless stroll and ended up at the train station in Coimbra. Seeing that Aveiro was but an hour away and the Czech-Latvia game was on for 5PM, I jumped on the next train out. Hoping to sort out some tickets, I set off. Before I could even leave the station, I had offers galore and picked up a ticket for €35, face value. Spent the afternoon in the fan zone as the czech and latvian fans cranked it up in anticipation. Arrived at the stadium, which is brand new, as they all are, to find my seat six rows from the field, between the corner flag and the goal. A few English lads ended up next to me, chatted with them during the match, and, will get back to them later. The match was excellent, one of the best in the first go round outside EvF. Being my first real football game outside of central america made it even better. Latvia, the 500-1 underdog, held strong against the Czechs, who are at 14-1. In extra time of the first half, their winger was sent down the line straight towards our seats, cut off his defender, and sent in a cross. The striker touched it in to set the Latvian fans off their rockers. The second half saw the desperate Czechs subsititute defenders for forwards, and increase the attack. Again coming towards us, they scored two in the 15 minutes to pull off the victory. The Czech fans, probably about 5,000 strong, absolutely lost it, and continued to lose it throughout the night. Parted ways with the English lads and headed back to town to watch Holland - Germany before catching the last train back to Coimbra.
Departing the bus from the stadium, ran into the same lads again, so set off with them to find a pub to watch the match. After the match, the town was starting to get a bit wild, so after walking 100m towards the station, i turned back and stuck around, figuring on the 6am return in the morning. Ended up hanging round til 430 before catch a few zzzzs at the train station. by the end of the night it was nearly six degrees of seperation, as in "how do you know the person sitting next to you". well, their friend was talking to a dude who knew a guy i was talking to who because he was with some girl i chatted with who knew a mate of the english lads at the match. yeah, anyway, talked to loads of portugese locals who were having a great time, and got the inside scoop on messing around in portugal, so hopefully that will help out later in the journey.
Only had time for 2 hours sleep back in coimbra before setting of to Lisbon to pick up my tickets for France-Croatia which i had bought thru ebay. was a messy trip, 6 hours in all, and left me a bit wrecked, so after watching portugal beat russia in the city square i went off to sleep to a chorus of cars horns blaring away in the night.
Thursday, i think, as its hard enough to keep track of the days, i set off for Leiria with my pack, a match ticket, and no accomdations, yet again. With no city map or inside scoop, i set off to find a place. 100 meters from the bus station, I found a room for €25. Thinking i might do better, i cruised aruond a bit more. 25 minutes and a bucket of sweat later, found another place wehre the manager told me everything in town was booked. Hearing this, I set straight back to the original pad and hooked it up.
Killing some time before Eng-Swiss at 5pm, headed up to a castle on a hill sticking straight up from the town. It was in nice condition, yet not renovated, so it maintained some character. From the top I could hear the Croatian fans singing and dancing, and for what its worth, they probably have the best following of any of the countries outside england and portugeuse.
Times out at the internet cafe, will add more later. I´ve no accomodations for tonight, so it looks like the pack with stay in the information office overnight, and I´ll find a nice patch of grass in a park here. Was able to sort out a place for tomorrow, so one night away from a bed and shower is no bother.
AVEIRO, PORTUGAL
Upon wrapping up the last post, I set off on a rather aimless stroll and ended up at the train station in Coimbra. Seeing that Aveiro was but an hour away and the Czech-Latvia game was on for 5PM, I jumped on the next train out. Hoping to sort out some tickets, I set off. Before I could even leave the station, I had offers galore and picked up a ticket for €35, face value. Spent the afternoon in the fan zone as the czech and latvian fans cranked it up in anticipation. Arrived at the stadium, which is brand new, as they all are, to find my seat six rows from the field, between the corner flag and the goal. A few English lads ended up next to me, chatted with them during the match, and, will get back to them later. The match was excellent, one of the best in the first go round outside EvF. Being my first real football game outside of central america made it even better. Latvia, the 500-1 underdog, held strong against the Czechs, who are at 14-1. In extra time of the first half, their winger was sent down the line straight towards our seats, cut off his defender, and sent in a cross. The striker touched it in to set the Latvian fans off their rockers. The second half saw the desperate Czechs subsititute defenders for forwards, and increase the attack. Again coming towards us, they scored two in the 15 minutes to pull off the victory. The Czech fans, probably about 5,000 strong, absolutely lost it, and continued to lose it throughout the night. Parted ways with the English lads and headed back to town to watch Holland - Germany before catching the last train back to Coimbra.
Departing the bus from the stadium, ran into the same lads again, so set off with them to find a pub to watch the match. After the match, the town was starting to get a bit wild, so after walking 100m towards the station, i turned back and stuck around, figuring on the 6am return in the morning. Ended up hanging round til 430 before catch a few zzzzs at the train station. by the end of the night it was nearly six degrees of seperation, as in "how do you know the person sitting next to you". well, their friend was talking to a dude who knew a guy i was talking to who because he was with some girl i chatted with who knew a mate of the english lads at the match. yeah, anyway, talked to loads of portugese locals who were having a great time, and got the inside scoop on messing around in portugal, so hopefully that will help out later in the journey.
Only had time for 2 hours sleep back in coimbra before setting of to Lisbon to pick up my tickets for France-Croatia which i had bought thru ebay. was a messy trip, 6 hours in all, and left me a bit wrecked, so after watching portugal beat russia in the city square i went off to sleep to a chorus of cars horns blaring away in the night.
Thursday, i think, as its hard enough to keep track of the days, i set off for Leiria with my pack, a match ticket, and no accomdations, yet again. With no city map or inside scoop, i set off to find a place. 100 meters from the bus station, I found a room for €25. Thinking i might do better, i cruised aruond a bit more. 25 minutes and a bucket of sweat later, found another place wehre the manager told me everything in town was booked. Hearing this, I set straight back to the original pad and hooked it up.
Killing some time before Eng-Swiss at 5pm, headed up to a castle on a hill sticking straight up from the town. It was in nice condition, yet not renovated, so it maintained some character. From the top I could hear the Croatian fans singing and dancing, and for what its worth, they probably have the best following of any of the countries outside england and portugeuse.
Times out at the internet cafe, will add more later. I´ve no accomodations for tonight, so it looks like the pack with stay in the information office overnight, and I´ll find a nice patch of grass in a park here. Was able to sort out a place for tomorrow, so one night away from a bed and shower is no bother.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT
Coimbra, Portugal
Arrived in Portgual with a plan to overcome the lack of accomadations, connections, or tickets. First up: the #91 bus to downtown. Second: Drop off the pack at the luggage storage at the train station. Uh, turns out all storage is closed for security reasons. Go to plan B: __________________. Don´t have a plan B. Spend a good hour walking round the city in the midst of thousands of English fans getting drunk and going nuts, and a few french fans trying to stay our of their way. Its hot enough so i end up resting in a park, devising a plan. Decided upon finding a pub to watch the matches, get some eats, and stay in long enough to shorten the time until departure of my bus at 8am the next morn. Trouble is there aren´t many pubs around, let alone large enough to drop my pack in as well. So its back to messing about the streets. Left, right, straight, right, straight, wherever. Until the lady´s voice, ``necessita un cuarto?`` why yes. and the other packer in her tow, ´´are you irish´´ upon seeing the souel gaels top. So i´ve found myself the only irishman in lisbon and a lady with might possibly be the only vacant room in lisbon. 40 Euros for a double. Sorted. Changed out of the sweaty top and set back to the streets, a nice 35lbs lighter.
Found a tele at a street cafe to catch the end of the stimulating 0-0 match btw croatia and the swiss. then off to find an irish pub to watch the france-england match. Found the place, and as it was, i was the second most irish person in the place, save for my accomplice paddy. And the English were as racous as one might expect, hoping beyong all hope their boys might pull one out. The first goal got things really jumping, and things went off for a good 10 minutes. Second half saw more of the same. After Rooney was taken down in the box for a penalty, it seemed like the dream might come true. Until Beckham blows it. Again. Missed penalty. a moment of despair was quickly followed by encouraging cheers, as if even a missed penalty wouldnt stop them today. The cheers lasted til about the 75-80 minute mark, and from that point on the cheers were progressively replaced by fears. by the 90 minute mark, the pub was as quiet as ever, as if every English fan KNEW things couldn´t be so good. and then they struck, zidane bending in the free. silence. disaster had struck. a sense of depair yet a bit of relief in knowing that they managed a 1-1 draw, keeping all hope alive for the future. then again. penalty for france. zidane scores. kickoff. whistle blows. france wins. not sure if i´ve ever witnessed a scene quit like that. silence. the place clears out. complete shock. yet an sense that they knew, that it was inevitable. through all this the irishman paddy was having to restrain from cheerings and jeering.
Took off to Coimbra the next morning, and spent most of yesterday recovering from the past three days that saw me go from Ubud-Bali-Bungee Jumping-Bangkok-Amsterdam-Lisbon-Coimbra. Got a ticket waiting in Lisbon for the France-Croatia match, and if the bus schedule allows, will try to get out to hte Czech-Latvia match today.
Coimbra, Portugal
Arrived in Portgual with a plan to overcome the lack of accomadations, connections, or tickets. First up: the #91 bus to downtown. Second: Drop off the pack at the luggage storage at the train station. Uh, turns out all storage is closed for security reasons. Go to plan B: __________________. Don´t have a plan B. Spend a good hour walking round the city in the midst of thousands of English fans getting drunk and going nuts, and a few french fans trying to stay our of their way. Its hot enough so i end up resting in a park, devising a plan. Decided upon finding a pub to watch the matches, get some eats, and stay in long enough to shorten the time until departure of my bus at 8am the next morn. Trouble is there aren´t many pubs around, let alone large enough to drop my pack in as well. So its back to messing about the streets. Left, right, straight, right, straight, wherever. Until the lady´s voice, ``necessita un cuarto?`` why yes. and the other packer in her tow, ´´are you irish´´ upon seeing the souel gaels top. So i´ve found myself the only irishman in lisbon and a lady with might possibly be the only vacant room in lisbon. 40 Euros for a double. Sorted. Changed out of the sweaty top and set back to the streets, a nice 35lbs lighter.
Found a tele at a street cafe to catch the end of the stimulating 0-0 match btw croatia and the swiss. then off to find an irish pub to watch the france-england match. Found the place, and as it was, i was the second most irish person in the place, save for my accomplice paddy. And the English were as racous as one might expect, hoping beyong all hope their boys might pull one out. The first goal got things really jumping, and things went off for a good 10 minutes. Second half saw more of the same. After Rooney was taken down in the box for a penalty, it seemed like the dream might come true. Until Beckham blows it. Again. Missed penalty. a moment of despair was quickly followed by encouraging cheers, as if even a missed penalty wouldnt stop them today. The cheers lasted til about the 75-80 minute mark, and from that point on the cheers were progressively replaced by fears. by the 90 minute mark, the pub was as quiet as ever, as if every English fan KNEW things couldn´t be so good. and then they struck, zidane bending in the free. silence. disaster had struck. a sense of depair yet a bit of relief in knowing that they managed a 1-1 draw, keeping all hope alive for the future. then again. penalty for france. zidane scores. kickoff. whistle blows. france wins. not sure if i´ve ever witnessed a scene quit like that. silence. the place clears out. complete shock. yet an sense that they knew, that it was inevitable. through all this the irishman paddy was having to restrain from cheerings and jeering.
Took off to Coimbra the next morning, and spent most of yesterday recovering from the past three days that saw me go from Ubud-Bali-Bungee Jumping-Bangkok-Amsterdam-Lisbon-Coimbra. Got a ticket waiting in Lisbon for the France-Croatia match, and if the bus schedule allows, will try to get out to hte Czech-Latvia match today.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
AMSTERDAM, GILI, UBUD, and DOUBLE 6
1023AM 13 JUN 04
After an hour and a half of waiting and three phone calls, I finally met not Mr. Jack, but a friend of his and got my plane ticket. So despite being a bit dodgy, things worked out alrite. Spent the rest of my six hours in the airport getting a massage for about $6 and watching Portugal lose to Greece in the opening match of the Euro. Am off from here in another two hours to Lisbon.
The trip out to Gili last week was, well, quite a trip. The 11 hours of travel went smoothly as one could expect, and we got to Gili Tarwangan around 6pm. The island has no motorized vehicles, and all transport is by foot or horse cart. Small enoungh island as its only about 4 miles around. A bit of an oddity for Indonesia as the three islands are somewhat self-governed, and there are no police on the island, and havent been since 1996. Given that, its become famous for magic mushrooms and marajuana. So one cant walk 10m down the street with getting some local coming up and offering some goods. Despite this, and its reputation as a party island, it was actually quite chilled out. Diving and snorkeling are the main activities, and sharks and sea turtles are plentiful in the waters around the island. Due to my laziness, I didnt wake up at the crack of dawn to do any diving, opting instead for a bit of snorkeling and laying round on the beach. An Irish pub on the island has small pagodas with TVs and a selection of a few hundred DVDs, so spent a few nights lounging around eating and watching movies. Saw a few great sunsets, a sunrise on departure day, and an incredible moonrise over a volcano on nearby Lombok island. We were going to sort out a overnight hiking trip to the volcano, but the sketchiness of the operation left us heading back to Baliand and Ubud instead.
Ubud is about an hour north of Bali, few of shopping and cultural type things. Our bungalow there cost $6/night and had a third floor patio looking over the city and under the stars that we ended up sleeping on to overcome the heat. On Thursday we went on a tour of a few temples, rice paddys, and volcanos. All the temples were in bad shape, and visitors had to wear sarongs as they were holy locations. Yet, the locals could mess about playing football, selling stuff, begging for money, and just about anything else. Basically all just a scam to sell a few more sarongs I figure. That night we saw a traditional performance. The first show was about 100 men chanting various things while a few in costumes acted out a Balinese legned. The second had two young girls "entranced", and dancing for a bout 20 minutes, in sync, while never opening their eyes. Pretty impressive. The last was a man riding a stick horse, again entranced, around a fire of cocunut husks, which he proceeded to kick around and walk on until it was nearly out. Better him than me.
Left on Friday morning for Kuta Beach, to sort things out before leaving. Went out for one last big night at a club called Double6 which had a 44m bungy jump over a pool. So of course that was the first thing we hit up upon arriving. Absolutely amazing, going up 44m, seeing the ocean in the moonlight, then falling over the edge for a good 5 second fall, plunging into the pool about head to waist deep, then up again. Great times, and got the T-shirt to prove it. Ended up hanging out with some fellow jumpers til around 8am, leaving me crunched and a bit tired heading out the next day.
Times out on my net card, so I'm off to Portugal to crank it up with the Hooligans as England plays France tonight.
1023AM 13 JUN 04
After an hour and a half of waiting and three phone calls, I finally met not Mr. Jack, but a friend of his and got my plane ticket. So despite being a bit dodgy, things worked out alrite. Spent the rest of my six hours in the airport getting a massage for about $6 and watching Portugal lose to Greece in the opening match of the Euro. Am off from here in another two hours to Lisbon.
The trip out to Gili last week was, well, quite a trip. The 11 hours of travel went smoothly as one could expect, and we got to Gili Tarwangan around 6pm. The island has no motorized vehicles, and all transport is by foot or horse cart. Small enoungh island as its only about 4 miles around. A bit of an oddity for Indonesia as the three islands are somewhat self-governed, and there are no police on the island, and havent been since 1996. Given that, its become famous for magic mushrooms and marajuana. So one cant walk 10m down the street with getting some local coming up and offering some goods. Despite this, and its reputation as a party island, it was actually quite chilled out. Diving and snorkeling are the main activities, and sharks and sea turtles are plentiful in the waters around the island. Due to my laziness, I didnt wake up at the crack of dawn to do any diving, opting instead for a bit of snorkeling and laying round on the beach. An Irish pub on the island has small pagodas with TVs and a selection of a few hundred DVDs, so spent a few nights lounging around eating and watching movies. Saw a few great sunsets, a sunrise on departure day, and an incredible moonrise over a volcano on nearby Lombok island. We were going to sort out a overnight hiking trip to the volcano, but the sketchiness of the operation left us heading back to Baliand and Ubud instead.
Ubud is about an hour north of Bali, few of shopping and cultural type things. Our bungalow there cost $6/night and had a third floor patio looking over the city and under the stars that we ended up sleeping on to overcome the heat. On Thursday we went on a tour of a few temples, rice paddys, and volcanos. All the temples were in bad shape, and visitors had to wear sarongs as they were holy locations. Yet, the locals could mess about playing football, selling stuff, begging for money, and just about anything else. Basically all just a scam to sell a few more sarongs I figure. That night we saw a traditional performance. The first show was about 100 men chanting various things while a few in costumes acted out a Balinese legned. The second had two young girls "entranced", and dancing for a bout 20 minutes, in sync, while never opening their eyes. Pretty impressive. The last was a man riding a stick horse, again entranced, around a fire of cocunut husks, which he proceeded to kick around and walk on until it was nearly out. Better him than me.
Left on Friday morning for Kuta Beach, to sort things out before leaving. Went out for one last big night at a club called Double6 which had a 44m bungy jump over a pool. So of course that was the first thing we hit up upon arriving. Absolutely amazing, going up 44m, seeing the ocean in the moonlight, then falling over the edge for a good 5 second fall, plunging into the pool about head to waist deep, then up again. Great times, and got the T-shirt to prove it. Ended up hanging out with some fellow jumpers til around 8am, leaving me crunched and a bit tired heading out the next day.
Times out on my net card, so I'm off to Portugal to crank it up with the Hooligans as England plays France tonight.
Friday, June 11, 2004
OFF TO MEET MR. JACK
746PM 11 June 2004
Back in Kuta Beach after six days off messing around Gili Tarwangan and Ubud. Tomorrow I leave for Portugal, which, if all goes well, should take 28 hours from first takeoff to final landing. The thing is it all depends on Mr. Jack. He is SUPPOSED to be delivering my Bangkok-Lisbon air ticket in the Bangkok airport. I've already laid out the $800+ for the return ticket, but couldn't pick in up during my stop in Bangkok due to a holiday. So if Mr. Jack is waiting at the Post Office on the third floor of terminal 1 in the Bangkok airport tomorrow night round 830pm, I'll be set and off to Lisbon at 230am. If not, I'll have lost the plot. I'll post about Gili and Ubud from the airport if Mr. J comes through, or, well, forget the alternative.
I've finally sorted out getting photos to disc and found a connection fast enough to upload, so theres a few up now. photos.yahoo.com/begbey
heres hoping Mr. Jack is punctual.
746PM 11 June 2004
Back in Kuta Beach after six days off messing around Gili Tarwangan and Ubud. Tomorrow I leave for Portugal, which, if all goes well, should take 28 hours from first takeoff to final landing. The thing is it all depends on Mr. Jack. He is SUPPOSED to be delivering my Bangkok-Lisbon air ticket in the Bangkok airport. I've already laid out the $800+ for the return ticket, but couldn't pick in up during my stop in Bangkok due to a holiday. So if Mr. Jack is waiting at the Post Office on the third floor of terminal 1 in the Bangkok airport tomorrow night round 830pm, I'll be set and off to Lisbon at 230am. If not, I'll have lost the plot. I'll post about Gili and Ubud from the airport if Mr. J comes through, or, well, forget the alternative.
I've finally sorted out getting photos to disc and found a connection fast enough to upload, so theres a few up now. photos.yahoo.com/begbey
heres hoping Mr. Jack is punctual.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
FUN IN THE SUN
7:20PM KUTA BEACH BALI
Went out last nite with the crew for eats and drinks and got ourselves in the a rather wide ranging political debate the sorts of which are best held over a few beers. Ended up keeping the restaurant owner out a bit later than he hoped, but alls well. Ended up staying out til the wee hours at a disco, good times.
Slept in today til last call for breakfast, then a nap right after that til 1. Spent the afternoon chilling on the beach tossing some discs and posing for loads of photos with some local teenagers on the beach. i might have to start charging......
sorted out transpo for getting over to a different island, Gili Tarwanang. Its a 12 hour journey via bus (2hr), ferry (5 hr), minibus (2hr), and long boat (1hr). All for the princely sum of $12US. Word is the island has no vehicles, no internet, no ATMs, no police, etc. Accomodations run about $7-10/night for a double. If ya never hear from me again, you know where to find me.
7:20PM KUTA BEACH BALI
Went out last nite with the crew for eats and drinks and got ourselves in the a rather wide ranging political debate the sorts of which are best held over a few beers. Ended up keeping the restaurant owner out a bit later than he hoped, but alls well. Ended up staying out til the wee hours at a disco, good times.
Slept in today til last call for breakfast, then a nap right after that til 1. Spent the afternoon chilling on the beach tossing some discs and posing for loads of photos with some local teenagers on the beach. i might have to start charging......
sorted out transpo for getting over to a different island, Gili Tarwanang. Its a 12 hour journey via bus (2hr), ferry (5 hr), minibus (2hr), and long boat (1hr). All for the princely sum of $12US. Word is the island has no vehicles, no internet, no ATMs, no police, etc. Accomodations run about $7-10/night for a double. If ya never hear from me again, you know where to find me.
Friday, June 04, 2004
BALI BALI BALI!!!
5:49PM on 4 June 2004
Arrived in Bali yesterday afternoon following an uneventful 1 night layover in Bangkok. All of this following an eventful last night in Korea that lasted til 5:30AM leaving only a mere hour for sleep, meaning that I slept two and had to scramble to make it to the airport in time. But thats probably a fitting enough way to leave Korea.
Sorted out a hotel for $15, all i got for this is two beds, AC, full bath, pool front patio, and 10 foot trek to the swimming pool. So no complaints. Out for a few drinks last night with my mate from korea Wardy and his mate from Ireland. Ended up driving by the site of the terrorist bombing from Oct 02 and the memorial set up. Lots of reminders of that day from T-shirts say F@%# terrorist to pictures up in the establishments.
Went out for my first surf today. Caught some breaks --- right in the face. Managed to get up for a few quick ones, but nothing spectacular. The beach is nice enough, except ya can't go 1 minute or 10 feet without being hassled to buy something - any usually a worthless something at that.
Will be off to a remote island in a few days to find the real relaxation away from it all.
5:49PM on 4 June 2004
Arrived in Bali yesterday afternoon following an uneventful 1 night layover in Bangkok. All of this following an eventful last night in Korea that lasted til 5:30AM leaving only a mere hour for sleep, meaning that I slept two and had to scramble to make it to the airport in time. But thats probably a fitting enough way to leave Korea.
Sorted out a hotel for $15, all i got for this is two beds, AC, full bath, pool front patio, and 10 foot trek to the swimming pool. So no complaints. Out for a few drinks last night with my mate from korea Wardy and his mate from Ireland. Ended up driving by the site of the terrorist bombing from Oct 02 and the memorial set up. Lots of reminders of that day from T-shirts say F@%# terrorist to pictures up in the establishments.
Went out for my first surf today. Caught some breaks --- right in the face. Managed to get up for a few quick ones, but nothing spectacular. The beach is nice enough, except ya can't go 1 minute or 10 feet without being hassled to buy something - any usually a worthless something at that.
Will be off to a remote island in a few days to find the real relaxation away from it all.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
The Lone Ranger
Mister has replaced Captain as the official title for one Blake Young. Officially returned to civilian status, and now living out the last 18 hours in Korea before heading off around the world. Fittingly enough, with a new moniker imparted by the fellow soldiers in my section: "The Lone Ranger". Here we, or I, go!
Mister has replaced Captain as the official title for one Blake Young. Officially returned to civilian status, and now living out the last 18 hours in Korea before heading off around the world. Fittingly enough, with a new moniker imparted by the fellow soldiers in my section: "The Lone Ranger". Here we, or I, go!
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