Chortles to Herself

So, THIS:
(Arles, France)

Plus these:
(Interlaken, Switzerland)


Plus lovely cones of this (with friends Sherry and Amanda):
(Cinque Terre, Italy)

Plus some of these:
(Cork, Ireland)

And also these:
(Paris, France)

And yummies like THIS-- (was a Nutella crepe-- forgot to photograph pre-consumption):
(Paris also)


...Results in SOME SERIOUS DOUBLE CHINS!!!:

That amazing photograph provided Heidi, me, and our friend Betsy that we met in Chamonix (current hostess in Paris) endless laughter last night. (Incidentally, as I write this, we are in her apartment, listening to "The Lonely Goatherd" from Sound of Music and eating chocolate Nutella on crackers.) Oh yeah-- and that's the Eiffel Tower behind us. YAAAAAY, the Eiffel Tower!!!!

We also enjoyed making horsey faces:


And I, talent that I am, found out that I can actually make a double-chin AND a horsey mouth at the same time:


And so it was that, in one fell swoop, the girl had managed to shatter any semblance of allure or prior vanity that she had ever attempted to maintain. "Can I do that without reservation?" she mused pensively, her brow furrowed in question. "Can I really show all those hideous pictures to the internet world, without any attractive ones to even attempt a rebuttal in favor of me being a cute girl?" She thought long and hard. "No," she decided. "I cannot."

Therefore, a cute pic of Heid-Beid and I in Ireland to prove to you that we are not, in fact, 800 pounds:

********
Funny story: Today, Heidi and I were enjoying ourselves at Montmartre's famous artists' square, (Translation: probably the most touristy part of all Paris, where poor shmucks like us get completely enamored with artists' romantic paintings of Paris, and completely lose financial restraint in frenetic rosy-eyed art-purchase-gobbling) ...and Heidi was considering one painting in particular next to a tall, tan fellow. She teased him, "You're not going to steal my painting are you?" He laughed and said, "Oh no, you go right ahead!" Narrowed my eyes: looked at him. I 'ave seen zees one before...

"Heidi... isn't that David Hasselhoff?"
She looked at him. Whispered. "No. I don't think so. Just a look-alike."
"But... he's tall, and tan... And he's about the right age... Isn't it?? I think it might be David Hasselhoff!!"
"No. Maybe? No. I think it's just someone who looks like him."

Later, Heidi saw the same tall, tan, strapping fellow being mobbed in the larger square. He was laughing and saying, "Half way across the world!!" I didn't see the mob, but I imagine him flexing for the crowd. Ha ha, yeaaaah, it's MEEEE, David Hasselhooofffff!!!

It was totally him. We totally perused for art next to David Hasselhoff. And. We didn't get a picture or an autograph. Because. We are like cool Parisians who let celebrities live their lives. Not silly girls who don't realize they're standing next TO THE BAYWATCH KING.
********

Alright, a few more pics to finish this blog off, just so you can see firsthand the gorgeous scenery we found in Ireland:



And here, our Irish chickies: Lorna (birthday girl) on the middle-left, and Laragh on the middle-right. We love them.


We're having an awesome time in Paris. Doing a whirlwind tour of the major sites tomorrow. Loving our hostess Betsy-- so fun to get to reunite with her again, after Chamonix!! We're in the final countdown now... Four more days!!

Ye Heavenly Lord, Grant Me the Stamina of an Irish Lass

Currently sitting at the kitchen table of one Lorna O'Neill while she counts up her 21st birthday money (currently at 1,600 euro-- apparently turning 21 is quite the lucrative occasion!), and Heidi sits beside me enjoying minestrone soup and homemade soda bread. How much do we love being in a home in a small Irish town with a darling Irish family? Quite a bit.

A run down of our time in the Emerald Isle thus far:

June 3rd, 6:30pm: Arrived in Cork, landed down at our hostel. Finagled some cell phone use from the beautiful Russian desk keeper; texted our other Irish friend Laragh to let her know we'd arrived. Called her then on a pay phone in the lobby and had several frantic unsuccessful tries with the foreign machines. WORK, damn ye! Enjoyed a Guinness and a cidre at the hostel bar during which we said several times to each other WE ARE IN IRELAND HEEEEY; then met up then with Laragh and her boyfriend, Brian. Caught up as best as could be accomplished while deciphering gloriously thick Irish accents.

June 4th, 5:30 am: Woke up to hideous loud snoring. Am I the only one this bothers? Looked around to see other five dorm-mates awake-- the girl beside me on the other top bed shook her hands over her head, GAAAH. Leaned over to tell the bald bearded perpetrator below me: 'Scuse me sir-- you're snoring quite loudly. Maybe you could sleep on your side?' Went back to bed.

7:30am: Heidi wakes up to find same bald, bearded man sitting in his underwear, all fleshy white and hairy, counting out pills and sorting through small metal things.

8:00am: I wake up to see same bald, bearded man on the floor, clothed in skimpy shorts, taking things out of his wallet and putting them back in. Oh the glorious random world of hostels.

10:00am: Meet up with Laragh; explore Cork. She shows us a SPECTACULAR discount store, and I buy everything. Almost.

1:00pm: Start the drive to Cork with Laragh's boyfriend Brian. Drive down windy, skinny Irish roads at 80 mph. Not kidding. I was watching the speedometer, and there was a miles guage as WELL as a kilometer guage. I focus on distant green hills and try to lapse into daydreams to quiet my protesting tummy.

5:00pm: Meet Laragh's family. Have tea, with biscuits and tarts. Look out the window every five minutes and exclaim yet again over the unbelievably beautiful view we have of the coast and the rugged green before it. Have brown bread and fresh, wild, barbequed salmon. Watch a misty gale take over the sky, and then watch it whip the land outside with fierce winds and rain. Shiver with delight. Shivery shiver.

9:30pm: Get ready for the birthday bash. We are gorgeous. And rain-coated.

10:30pm: Arrive at the birthday party, which is at a pub PACKED with Irish lads and lasses. Also parents, and grand-parents, and small children. There's a one man band in the corner, and pints crash together in toasts every five minutes. Whisky! Guinness! Cidre! Rum! Pints! Half-pints! Gallons! Buckets!

June 5th, 12:00am: Heidi is romanced by a 18-year-old who is crushed to learn she's engaged. I am romanced by a 25-year-old who can't seem to remember I'm nursing a dislocated shoulder when he ineptly tries to dance with me. We make friends, and immediately forget their names. Lorna is given 21 kisses by 21 blokes, and is made to do a hilarious dance with a willing male participant.

1:00am: They play Springsteen's "BOOORRN IN THE USA!!" and Heidi and I point to ourselves, happily. Others do too. Everyone knows each other here, and it's easy to spot the foreigners-- we are Lorna's American friends that everyone has heard about. Haha!

2:00am: I am fading, and watch the chattering, giggling 7-year-olds around me in disbelief. How are they standing??

3:00am: The music has stopped, but the party is still moving forward with gusto, and people are going back to the bar for drinks. Heidi and I stand bleary-eyed in a corner, half-heartedly dealing with Romancers One and Two.

3:30am: Lorna's mom is leaving with her 9-year-old sister, and Heidi and I jump at the chance to go home too. We crawl into bed at 4:00am, exhausted.

12:30pm: Wake up. Have breakfast/lunch with Lorna's mom and younger siblings-- she apparently is still at the pub, or a house nearby. Breakfast is cereal with tea, and fresh soda bread and marmalade. Yay. Yay for Irish food. Yay.

1:30pm: Go for a walk together out towards the coast and feel overwhelmed. No wonder Ireland is still full of folklore and legends-- this is the stuff of fairy tales! Everything is LUSH, and green, and gorgeous-- the hills are rolling, the stones rise up, the water looms blue and wild. We see wild flowers everywhere-- shy wild fushias, gentle foxgloves, cackling thistles, eager butter-cups, and so many more I can't name. It's unbelievable. It's beautiful. I have been to Ireland before and remember it as one of my favorites-- once again, I find myself besotted.

3:00pm: Lorna arrives home and informs us she wasn't able to get to bed until "Half six." She tells us not to worry though-- we'll take naps, and shower, and have some coffee so that we can go out again for the REALLY big party tonight which will leave the old folks and kidlins at home. What? Another one?? A BIGGER one??

God, give us strength!

Last Post is Finished Now!

And will hopefully make more sense, provide more humor, enjoyment, etc.

We are now in Ireland, after a (mostly) seamless day of travel! The one hiccup came at check-in for Ryan Air, when we realized we would have to check not only Heidi's back pack but also my guitar... 60 euros later... Ouch.

Today we go to a teeny town on the southern Irish coast called Castletownbere for-- what? A birthday party!! Which won't involve fireworks unfortunately, but should involve plenty of festive behavior. And Guinness. Definitely Guinness.

More to come later!

Another Photo Montage for Your Privileged Viewing Enjoyment:

Bonjour mes amis.

We are back in France.

Which.

We.

LOVE.

Italy was gorgeous. How many times have I been told that the Cinque Terre is some of the most gorgeous terrain on this earth? Many times indeed, she nodded emphatically to herself. And it was! But let me tell you something friends. With Italy? Come Italians. And with Cinque Terre? Comes a 5 hour layover for a train connection through Hell-- one that map makers seem to think is known by the deceptively benign title of La Spezia. She shuddered, and gagged-- throwing up just a tiny bit in her mouth. Then resumed typing.

You really want to know my honest feelings about La Effing Spezia? Here. In technicolor:


Okay, but we'll get to that in a minute. First the good things about our Italian soiree, which-- all in all-- made dealing with even La Spezia worth it.

We have the beach---that there yonder is the first of the 5 Terre, called Riomaggiore:


Well, rocks more so than beach, but still-- a spot to incur sunburns galore:


We have the spectacular views from the hike: -- WHAT viws!!



The mid-hike luncheon with our darling friends Sherry (left) and Amanda. Oh-- the girl in the middle? That would be Heid Beid. Who, as we have discovered, has an amazing aptitude for falling asleep ANYWHERE. A true spiritual gift when traveling! Luckily we found a place that didn't mind our profusely sweating, gasping, sports bra/bathing-suit-clad selves.


Heidi felt a little more bashful when we finished the hike and were heading to dinner, so did what she could to add a demure cover up to her hiking ensemble. One REI quick dry towel later, and the lady was ready for the ball. Or, at least for a glass. :)


And-- I told you about the angels, here they are. The most magical moment of our Cinque Terre stay:



A few other friends we met at the new hostel-- you know, the one up the cliff:


We went into town and watched the final Eurocup Game with these fine gents, who were all surprised at how old I was. 'You started playing guitar when you were in your THIRD year of college?? I haven't even LIVED that yet!!' Thanks boys. Thanks.


Now the icky parts of our Italian adventure. I GIVE YOU, THE MAN THONG:


THE PERSONIFIED SENTIMENT OF HOW IT FEELS TO CLIMB OVER 200 STAIRS TO GO TO BEDDIE BYE:


THE SIGN IN LA EFFING SPEZIA WHICH I RAN INTO THAT DID ITS BEST TO RE-DISLOCATE MY SHOULDER:


THE LAYOVER IN MILAN WHICH WAS IN A DIRTY, SMELLY, TRASH-FILLED STATION, WHICH WAS EXTENDED BY 40 MINUTES DUE TO A DELAYED TRAIN:


THE BIZARRE SLEEPING SITUATION ON THE WEIRD TRAIN THAT RESULTED IN TWO SWEDISH MEN SLEEPING 16 INCHES ABOVE US, AND ARM RESTS JUTTING DOWN INTO OUR MID-SECTIONS:


What you don't see is the two hours we spent wandering La Spezia in 100 degree heat, looking for an internet cafe. You don't see the eight sets of wrong directions we received on the way. You don't see the nickel sized blister on my right heel, or the three little ones on my left. You don't see the countless Italians who romantically mauled each other, and then were crazy rude to us. You don't see the 38 plus hours of travel it took us to get from Cinque Terre to our current spot, Rennes. You don't see Heidi and I waiting for our first lay over in La Spezia to END, consoling ourselves with ice cream and singing, 'We! Both! Hate! La Spay-zia! It drives! Us! Eff-ing Cray-zia!' Except, I'll be honest-- we didn't censor ourselves. We dropped the actual F bomb, many times. We were FUDGING FED UP.

But now, ah, tres bien mes amis!! We are back in France! Back in the land of patisseries and lovely accents!! Back where I know how to communicate just a little! Back where ticket men on trains will cheerfully chat with us about where we're from, and our travel plans! Back where people keep their tongues reasonable distances away from other tongues, except presumably, behind closed doors! Back where there are lovely sights like Mont St. Michel to see!

We head to Ireland tomorrow (what?? I know, random!) to attend the birthday party of some darling Irish girls we first met in Nice. We anticipate a fantastic break in the language barrier, and plenty of down home Irish culture. Then, back to Paris for a week (yay!!)and then home!!

Love to all-- thanks for reading! :)

Upping and Downing in Cinque Terre

Heidi and I are currently in Cinque Terre, which was my main non-negotiable of this trip. I've wanted to go to 5terre since I heard other back-packers rave about it when I was touring around five years ago, but ran out of time to see it then. We were so excited to get to this magical place, and have experienced quite a few enchanting moments. However, as life tends to go, there's been plenty of decidedly untwinkly points as well. Since Cinque Terre's main featured experience is a grueling hike up and down its gorgeous cliffs, I'll take you through the similar ups and downs we've experienced since getting here...

Low: Getting here.
I'm still nursing a dislocated shoulder in a gimpy sling, so Heid had to play sherpa and double up on carrying our packs on the journey here. The long day of train rides came after a night where we'd both gotten about three hours of sleep and our respective inconveniences only heightened our grumpiness. Heidi slept and grouched on the train while I held it together, then after we finally arrived in La Spezia, it was my turn to lose it. After a frustrating search for a bus stop that we never did find, I tried chasing after a bus to ask a bus driver for advice. This was a scene from a Chris Farley movie: I was running alongside the bus, hitting the windows, and then ran SMACK into a sign that had, apparently, been right in front of me. So cool. Heeeey Italy.... The embarrassment and added hurt to my gimpy shoulder compounded my frustration at being lost, and I snapped at Heidi to fix things. She, to her credit and grace, pulled me together and we managed to call a cab with the help of a friendly bar man. Finally made it to our hostel, intact.

The gimpy shoulder has not been without its moments of humor though: I earned the nick-name 'One Armed Bandit' in Interlaken, after I proved I could dance it up with my arm in a sling. I heard Heidi talking in her sleep the other night when she made some sarcastic comment about 'One Arm over there,' which we both found highly amusing the next morning. And me running smack dab into a sign? Come on. That's funny.

High: Meeting friends at our hostel
Straight away we met some fantastic people, two of whom became our best buds for the next two days. Dave was from St. Paul, and Sherry and Amanda were from a small town near Fresno. People can make or break a place for us, and Sherry and Amanda were fantastic companions for beach lounging, town perusing, profusely sweaty hiking, and deep conversation. Dave tended to meet up with us for dinner, and was likewise enjoyable to be around-- got into lots of talks about politics and footwear. :)

Low: Our hostel situation
When Heidi and I got to our elusive hostel, FINALLY, we were in such black moods that we disliked it immediately. The staff was unfriendly, there were all kinds of rules-- like, that we weren't allowed to use our own sleep sacks, and that we were forbidden to be at the hostel between the hours of 11 and 3. What?? That's prime siesta time! We had to pay upfront, and made the decision to cancel our last two nights with them, and look for a place closer to the actual Cinque Terre. (We were still a bus ride away at that point.) However, once we did that... We realized we actually needed to FIND a place in town... In the morning, after sleep and rationality had done a bit to improve our moods, we asked if we could rebook our last two nights... But were told our beds had already been reserved. Shite. Wandered Riomaggiore with Sherry and Amanda, and finally found a cute little hotel on the main road managed by a sweet Italian woman. The next day however, when we came by with our all stuff to move into our new room... We were escorted up over 200 stairs to our room. Hey Greta and Heidi: remember that part about Cinque Terre being on a cliff? Oh yeah....

That climb was a nice little warm up for the next high though....

High: The Amazing Hike
...Which was actually QUITE high, and then QUITE low, and then QUITE high and low about six more times, and QUITE hot, and QUITE hard, but glorious, and fabulous, and one of those things that makes you feel so sure of being alive. We loved it. Complained about the heat and our shaky legs, but absolutely loved it and took tons of pictures, which we'll try to post soon. This was one of the best parts of our trip thus far-- THIS was magic. Seeing all those gorgeous little cliffside towns reveal themselves one by one... Unreal. No wonder I had heard stories.

Low: Saying goodbye to Sherry and Amanda
Such an inevitable aspect of meeting travelers and then moving on... But we still always grieve a bit when we have to part with people that have experienced such a major life experience with us. Sherry especially became a favorite with us, and was able to help Heidi and I through some of the very real difficulties we encountered here with her encouragement and prayer.

Heidi would probably also note around this point, that a major low for her was finding a toenail in her gelato. Yikes. I however, have experienced no such trauma, and continue to consume it about three times a day.

High: The Angels Singing on the Cliff Last Night
After our long sweaty hike, Heidi and I once more climbed the 200 plus stairs leading to our new hostel. We stopped near the top to enjoy a beautiful view point, and watched as a beautiful, sweet young couple set up a guitar and a music stand. They were both in white, and looked around 17, 18, or 19. They had packs with them, but spoke Italian, which made us wonder if they were runaways, or gypsies... Or perhaps just other travelers like us. They looked at each other as if they were at the most helpless point of being in love, and it filled Heidi and I both with a giddy happiness for them. They smiled at us, enjoying our enjoyment, and an unspoken friendship was formed as the boy began to play, and smiles were exhanged between us and the girl to show her we believed in his talent. She smiled with such uninhibited happiness each time he finished a song, and checked with us each time to see if we had been as entranced as she. The sun set behind the cliff as he played, and it really felt like something other worldly. His first song was in English, and he sang, 'We are not afraid today.' Heidi and I have been up against some dark shadows lately, and his song felt like a grace-filled reassurance to us.

We gave him some money, and wrote a note thanking him for giving us such a wonderful moment. We told him that we thought he and his friend were angels, sent to help us through a difficult time. This may have been my favorite moment of the trip so far.


One more thing that is neither high nor low, but is worth mentioning: The Uninhibited Italians
Italy seems especially uninhibited. Today, on the train ride to Vernazza, Heidi and I sat behind a couple that was loudly making out and climbing into all sorts of romantic positions that were, frankly, quite impressive given their confines. Then a girl came on, blasting Indian music loudly on a personal stereo, and proceeded to strip down to her bra and panties to change into a sundress. On my way off the train, felt my backpack start to be unzipped and turned around to see a woman quickly draw her hand out of it. SCUZI ma'am!! We got to the beach, saw naked children running around, plenty of naked breasts, and men handling their, ahem, *jewels* openly. Also-- you were waiting for this-- the man thong. In bright cerulean blue. Such a wondrous site to behold. Or, you know. Not. But was certainly enjoyed with a mix of amusement and repulsion!

********************
Today, we've spent some more time on the beach, and are exploring some of the five towns. Tomorrow, we leave in the evening to take a train from La Spezia to Milan, and then an overnight train from Milan to Paris, then on to Rennes to see Mont St. Michel. We've loved it here, but are also looking foward to getting back to France. :)

More later!!

So you can finally SEE what we've been up to...

Helloooo amis! We have not disappeared, we have just been cursed with spendy internet at former destinations. However, we once more have a freebie computer at our hostel, and are taking the opportunity to show you pictures pictures of our treks thus far. Inevitably, traveler's pictures are more interesting to the traveler than the viewer, so peruse as skimmingly or deeply as you wish. If you're still hungry for more, Heid-Beid has an entirely different assortment on hers.

First is from Provence. We found our lavender fields. Remember when I was a silly vain girl and took off my glasses for a picture-- then subsequently left them by a lavender bush and had to be taken back to the field by our dear French friend Pascal? Voila.


Our best friend!! Denise. Our patisserie magician, and daily planning assistant. We really, really love this woman!


Could we get enough of Denise's eclairs? No. Really, no. Especially when she started giving them to us for free!


During our lavender field day trip, we stopped at a town called Roussillon, with red, red cliffs all around it! Walking through them was like climbing inside a sunset.


On to Chamonix, in the French Alps. This was our daily, all the time view. There were more mountains than sky.


On our way up the the top of Mt. Blanc. What a view!


I wuv you Heidi.


Finally at the very top. So blown away! Right after this is when I dropped my poor pink water-bottle, and almost started an avalanche. Whoops.


That night, after our hostel manager Phil caught me playing guitar in our back-yard garden, he had me come into town and play with his friends at a Canadian pub. It was my first time playing electric, ever-- and I'm not going to lie, I felt crazy cool!!


Next night: before the huge French June 21st party: the Fete de la Musique. All of France hits the town on June 21st to catch the many bands and musicians that line the streets, playing music all night. I caught it in Paris a couple years ago; Chamonix was almost more fun, especially with our wonderful friends that we'd met, traveling from Michigan: Betsy and her mom, Angie. These two made our trip to Chamonix so much better for their company!!


This is Gary: my rock-star producer and electric-guitar-loaner, from the night before. Apparently, he's actually pretty famous in the ski world as a videographer. Word.


Darling Betsy!!


Having ever so much fun... :)


Now on to Switzerland-- we checked out a mountain town called Grindelwald that was a short train away from our home base, Interlaken. My main reason for wanting to see Grindelwald? It's the same name as the bad wizard in Harry Potter 7.


This is from our giant, giant, unexpected hike up to the top of a Swiss Alp to see Heidiland's meadow. We thought Heidiland would be an amble through a town-- hence the jeans and flip flops. It ended up being a six hour hike, that was ALL uphill for 4 of it! My goat friend:


Best part of the day: when Heidi was brushing a few spiders off her arm, and said, "Stupid... spiders... get off my arm... THIS IS MY LAND!!!"


Snuck into a forbidden meadow to do some frolicing. I ignored Heidi's warning: "Greta, it's VERBOTEN! What if we get caught?! We'll probably walk through stinging nettles or something as punishment!" "Heidi. There are no STINGING NETTLES."


Oh, but... then there were stinging nettles. Shiza.


We still made it to the top though. In jeans and flip-flops, I tell you, with nettle feet and blistered heels! How could we not? It was Heidi's mountain!


This is just from today: we went canyoning (waterfall jumping, sliding, climbing, and rapelling) with these crazy gentlemen. It was awesome fun, but my right shoulder actually slipped out of its socket four times. It's back in, but getting pretty sore-- Mom, Ross- other medical people-- is that something I should have checked? We know I have double-jointed shoulders, but don't think it should be QUITE as slippery as all that.



Anyway-- hope you enjoyed-- we definitely are! Thanks for the emails and the comments, we really love getting them. We go to Italy, Cinque Terre, tomorrow. LOVE!