To get to London, we first had to get through the border control. I didn't even bother attempting to take pictures. A young man quickly yelled at any people with cameras out in this section. It was off limits, for some reason. Heaven forbid you take a picture of a stack of blank forms, or the endless queues. Eric and I busied ourselves with filling out the entry forms. This was, of course, easier said than done. I'd completed the form once to discover that it said that I had to use all capital letters. So, I redid the form, but made another silly mistake. I probably went through about three or so forms before I got it right. Eric took a similar amount. I insisted he use a black pen. I told him, "I'm not going to wait for you if you get held up because you insisted on using a red pen."
Trapped on a plane for 10 hours. You know, people have died from such things. If you're inactive for too long, blood clots can form. The Rick Steves european travel site recommended various stretches and walks during such travel, and noted that the in-flight movie was good for only one thing--sleep. During the flight I started to wonder if it was such a good idea that I watched so many air crash investigation videos on youtube. I'd made a point not to mention such morbid things to Eric during the days leading up to our flights. However, knowledge can be a powerful thing. Was that bump merely turbulence, or had the aileron shaft thingie sheared off? Compared to riding TheBus in Honolulu though, the ride was positively luxurious, and definitely smelled better.
It became quickly apparent that my bargain-priced 32GB SDHC memory chip that I'd bought off ebay was defective. Who'd have guessed? Especially after paying $14 to some random guy in Hong Kong which had reasonable seller's reputation. My first clue that something might be amiss was when the customs certificate claimed the value as $1 to avoid paying the import dues. My second clue was when the camera never finished writing a very short video. Sheesh, its becoming such that you can't trust some random foreign person promising great bargains online with your money.
Ah, California, my birth state. Breathe in that fine Californian air! *cough* *cough* *gag* Yup, just like I remember it. Sure, I still had some nostalgic attachment to this place. After all, I still had friends and family here. While the latter hardly acknowledged my existence, at least my friends were all eager to see me. Down the causeways, past the one-way security escalator, and out the sliding doors, we found ourselves waiting at the curb.
The boat was a horrendous mess. Fiberglass dust, epoxy flakes, extension cords, and tools everywhere. An ice chest used for storing electrical junk blocked the forward corridor, and a drawer inset for the galley blocked the midship corridor. To get anywhere in the boat, one had to leap the hurdles. Forget finding anything at this point. And yet, for once I didn't care. After all, I'd soon be on a flight out and away from all of that. Our bags were packed, ready to go. I'm standing here outside my slip...
Where to go? That was the question, or at least it was after Eric interjected that he wanted to explore central america. Having seen some islands for sale at a somewhat reasonable price, Eric wanted to visit them. Thus, I found myself looking at grainy satellite photos of Belize and elsewhere. He liked the idea of visiting South America, Central America, and India. Sparking some interest with me, I looked into Macchu Piccu. Unfortunately we couldn't visit any of those locations plus europe without at least doubling the airfare cost. So either we visited europe, or some other region. Doing both really wasn't in our budget. But then again, going to europe was really not in our budget anyhow, but we were going to do it, weren't we?
We dropped by Down to Earth for food later. I faxed in my verification form at the Fedex/Kinkos at the corner. Additionally, I printed our passport applications, hoping we'd be able to submit them soon. UH Manoa had a passport application option at the campus center. As soon as I'd prepared Eric's supporting documents, I wanted him to go ahead an apply, which we could use to gauge the time to receive our passports. Squinting at Eric's driver's license, the woman at the campus center clucked her tongue. Eric's license had delaminated.
And so, my mantra was born. I kept saying to myself, "I'm going to Paris, I'm going to Paris." Still, I feared going to the highest peaks right away and proclaiming my decision. I knew all too well that I've made grand decisions before that didn't pan out. I didn't want this trip to be one of those.
Our little adventure all started innocently enough while I sat in yet another interminable meeting for my job as a research assistant. Don't get me wrong, the work I do is interesting. We have a large research group targeted with designing a multi-agent simulation to predict ethnically motivated violence or cooperation. At least I think that's what we do. Anyhow, as a subgroup in the room continued their discussion with little direct relevance to my tasks, I nodded periodically whilst checking my email online.
What happens when the dynamic vegan duo decide to tackle Europe by storm with little more than a rail pass, a bag of fizzy multivitamins, and a taste for adventure? Hilarity ensues, unfortunately! Meet interesting people, such as 'random French guy' who pushes us onto a metro ride toward the Sexporium. Or how about the train stalkers who corral passengers into their flats for rent at competitive rates. Evade the ubiquitous gypsies asking for money in creative new ways. Follow our sprawling, and madcap adventure through the sites and scenes of Europe. From Big Ben to the Acropolis, the Vatican to the Reichstag--we literally don't know what city we'll be in by the end of the day. By plane, ferry, tram, the odd bus, and an in-terminal-able amount of trains, we criss-cross the continent. In Amsterdam, the wild city, we're configuring routers instead of getting high making me doubt my sanity. Persisting rumors kept us asking, "Will bands of robbers invade our night train?" Can we trust this guy who is leading us to a great deal on a hostel? Or, why is that man walking away with our passports? I'm not sure but I think I even bribed a conductor in Bulgaria. Why on earth did I go on this trip, and why can't I ever find a place to sleep? Will I ever see home again? Will my recurring nightmares of being stuck in a train station ever cease?!?
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