Ok so the rest of the story about Greece. I finally wound up getting certified after 3 days of diving. The final exam was extremely easy. I aced it with a 94%. My last day on Santorini was spent with a dive around the reef at Caldera and then a ride to Nahos. This was a lovely Island the largest of the Cyladese with over 2,000 Islands in Greece they organize them by chains. Nahos is very well populated for an island. That is what I like about the Greek Islands is they feel safe and clean much safer then Athens. Nahos was fun I stayed in Thira near the port and took a bus to Mount Zues and took an extremely long walk-like maybe 10-20 kilometers to the top of the white Marble path but in the end I wound up stopping well below the summit b/c I knew that going off the trail up a marble rock face was a great way to never be found.



So I walked back and sat at road side cafe and waited for an hour and a half for the bus. I just did my reading and ignored the men who kept bugging me. I put my ear plugs in.



Then after a nice bus ride back I sat in an outdoor cafe and ate white chocolate fondu and watched the sunset. It was paradise. I even bought a used paperback from the bookstore.

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Also visited the former Temple of Apollo which now is just the Arch of Apollo.












The next day I went to Mikanos which was lovely. It was overrated though after Santorini and Nahos the island did not seem quite so lovely. I rented an ATV and tore it up on the torn up and muddy roads on my way to the various beaches. It was an absolute blast. I got hit on a lot "you are so beautiful you have such lovely eyes. I can not concetrate." Who falls for that crap? I bought a pair of jeans, 3 pairs of shoes and ate mussels for dinner. While the sunset over the wild ocean and the windmills stood against the pink sky. After that it was chaotic I had the wrong flight home, my ferry was cancelled I had to take a different one and then take the bus into town. That is actually a very good story. I was on the bus and I was asking the conductor who took my two euro to get from Athena port into the inner city which took like an hour and the conductor said in very broken English "I get off at the same stop you do so don't worry be happy." I have noticed that a lot of people who don't speak with English as their first language love that phrase. "Don't worry be happy." I think they just assume it all goes together. Anyway he got off when I did rolled my suitcase into the metro, helped me a buy a ticket, insisted I sit in the only available seat when he stood, he was 61, and proceeded to try and explain how to use the metro. I did not bother telling him I had used the metro in much more complicated places then the three lines used in Greece. That I successfully navigate the tube with over 13 lines daily. That I rode the metro in DC, NY, Paris, France, Barcelona, Spain, Munich, Germany, and Rome, Italy. Or that I had spent the first day in Greece using the metro to get to the same Hostel I was staying at, and had traveled to the Acropolis and Pireas by myself. I was amazed that the man who worked on a night bus who got dozens of lost tourist asking him questions was so willing to help a lost American girl. I know that it sounds odd but people in Europe have been and are incredibly helpful. For a girl who does not speak their langauge and is a visitor in their land-they go out of their way to answer questions, give directions. I flew home from Greece, and rushed home ran into the shower dashed into a dress and almost ran to church. Turns out that this week it was Stake Conference and I had missed church. LAME!!
Then there were classes....Boring
Then I went on a long walk in Hyde Park at Sunset it was lovely. The leaves were crunchy. Since California has no seasons. I missed Fall. I walked past the Princess Di fountain and I though about death. I have always loved cemetaries. In Logan there was one in btwn the dorms and school. I walked amongst the leaves and it was so quiet. I made a point to walk through it on my way to school. To feel the quiet bfr the busy day at school. So peaceful. It always makes me wonder about how we honor our dead. We make quiet plots of land and we leave them in "peace." But death for all its inevitability is a mystery. Our faith we take with us and it shields us from the uncertaintity but it amazes me how rarely people consider that possibility.

Santorini

Life is about moments-minutes that tick away and each one is one that can never be restored. Some time we waste and others are the minutes we treasure. It is often the moment we treasure that gets us through the dull parts of life. It is the hope for a better future moment that moves us beyond our current sadness. It is our future that we hope for, the past that we regret or embrace and it is the present and the future that we try and control.

Today was as much about my adventure in Greece as it was about myself and the type of life that I hope to live. Today was rainy. The sky was long grey and I awoke in the nick of time for pulling on a swim suit and heading out to sea. I decided that this trip was going to be about scuba diving. I have always loved snorkeling. I love the ocean but hate to sunbath or lay in the sand. It has always bothered me to do nothing when there is a big ocean right next to you that you can play with. So yesterday I put on a scuba mask, waddled under the weight of a 12 liter tank, a weight belt, regulator, in a wet suit out to sea. I carefully put my fins on and re-thought through the entire procedure for diving. The hand signals a thumbs up indicating the need to ascend, the last three fingers raised to make the OK sign. The basic recovery techniques, the use of your lungs to control buoyancy. I tried not think about the risk for a fat embolism if you ascend to quickly without breathing out as you do so causing the air in your lungs previously compact to expand inside the body. Causing serious consequences. But mostly I think about my ears, my very pressure sensitive ears. I am careful to equalize, pinch my nose and blow hard into the sinus passage to clear them.
I review them all step by step. Then we go in the water. I could say that it was a strange feeling being completely submerged, breathing under the water. Demanding and pulling the oxygen from the regulator. But I loved it. I have always loved snorkeling examining fish and just looking at the whole world that can be found right under the surface of the water. I loved the way the water feels against my skin. I love the way I don’t feel cold even when I should. But mostly I feel that if you don’t dive then you are missing the whole point of the ocean. It is a boundless resource. The ocean was and is barrier and protector of the continents of the world and those who conquered it reaped great rewards. British, Dutch, Spanish, French ships all danced across the waves. Bringing exotic delights from other lands.
Now and then fishermen mine the deep for the great herds of fish, shrimp, mussels, and other tasty delights.
The ocean is a place that is very dangerous, descending ten meters in the ocean is the same as having a second atmosphere placed on top of you. Meaning that when you go down to 30 meters, then you have 4X the pressure of the atmosphere on top of you. This also decreases the volume of air in your lungs by half every ten meters, meaning that every ten meters needs to double the oxygen and decrease your dive time.
These thoughts aside the fact that in the water space and movement and dimensions are so free. Up and down, gravity have much less meaning here. It is a planet with knew rules, and frankly we are very ill prepared guest. Alone a human could not survive in the ocean. The temperatures, the need for oxygen, the sensitivity of the human body to pressure all make us ill equipped to visit this watery world.
My instructor and all the Greek people pronounce my name the same SAN NON. I have noticed that in Europe people tend to speak English the same way they do their mother tongue. So a Greek person tries to make English sound Greek. Sound “right” in their ears. No with enough practice people can weed out those little anachronisms that make the language of my native tongue sound so foreign. But the truth is you need to listen differently. Most people form sentences to try and say things with a much smaller word. They don’t know the exact term but they know that the word implies the same meaning. For example: in Luxemburg the guide said, “the bus could not go into the square because it is forbidden.” In Ireland they called it a “Pedestrian Zone.” Do you see the difference? I love it. One of my new friend at law school majored in psychology and she talked about how language shapes thoughts. Think about it. The way that the people of Thailand describe beverages is combining the flavor with the word water. Making wine-water grape, apple juice-apple water. So when people in Thailand think about drinks they think about water.
I had a Russian friend Elle who would always say, “I can not feel smells.” My personal favorite language anomaly. How would we say it in America? “I can not smell well,” or the more repetitive “I don’t smell, smells.” In truth me and my extremely sensitive sense of smell, I can smell the wine in a friends glass across the table, I can smell cheese through plastic. Believe that smell is something we feel. It is our strongest memory sensor right? I cannot smell aqua digiou without thinking of my college boyfriend. I cannot smell sweet almonds without thinking about Oregon. I cannot smell sage and fresh ponderosa without being taken to a small cabin in the wet mountains. I cannot walk through the chilly wet mist without thinking of the hike that Tonya and I and a few leaders took in preparation for girl’s camp immortalized in the photo in the family room. I think that we do feel smells. When it stinks our nose stings, or when I smell a flower I feel the sweet fresh opening in my nostrils almost like the flower is breathing into me. Do you see? How all my thoughts about smell had been a totally different sensory experience then the one I think about now. Feeling a smell.
She also said “Your water bottle is punching me.” Anytime something hit her it punched. Punched means to hit, but it is only one way to say it. We have all kinds of names for “hitting.”
Collide, crash, kick, punch, strike, slap, claw, run into, graze, full contact and I am sure many more. Think about it. All the ways we touch each other. Words man-they matter.



Anyway that was supremely tangential and for those of you who ignore the extremely dense prose above or who are skimming for a more interesting recount of my trip here is a photo:



And a cue to begin reading again.
Today I also rented an ATV and drove her on the road, I got extremely lost on a island that has approximately 2 roads, I got rained on, sand in my eye very nervous while driving on a deserted road at night with high grass on either side. My rebellious imagination conjuring lions leaping out at me, and or crazy men leaping out and pulling me from astride my ATV. Either way I loved it. I want to take this opportunity to thank Devin from my Senior year at USU for teaching me how to drive one. It was a fifty CC automatic and baby it could move really move if you were going down hill with the wind at your back.
The trip to way full of scenery and photos on my way from the capital of Santorini to Oia were all the famous white buildings are. The trip there was sunny and breezy with many photos taken. The ride back was dark, windy and rainy as I drove along the ridge of the island. Once I got out of the rain I got hopelessly lost until my third set of direction brought me exactly to the road I needed. I also found the map marking my hotel on it on the floor of the bathroom when I got back, which would have been helpful during my frantic searches. But I got a lot of time on board that little four wheeler. My arms are now sore and my calves tight. But the truth is the moments I had today are the ones that I hope reflect who I am.

I sometimes wonder if I waited to long to really embrace life. I always felt like being alone kept me from doing and being happy. That if I had the right friend who wanted to do just what I wanted to. I hoped for a best friend or a lover to fill that post. But the truth is that happiness has everything to do with ourselves and very little to do with others.
So I am happy. I decide to do as many of the things that I have always wanted to do. But never had the courage to do alone. Not that I don’t love doing things with people, I do, I really do. I love the group trips. But I decided this Summer after my trip to Israel that I am was the person stopping me. It was not the fact that I did not have a travel buddy that I never went any place. It was me.

EU Trip

This is a report on the whirl wind trip of the students of Pepperdine Law school to the institutions of the EU during our trip we visited Brussels, Luxemberg, and Strasburg, France.
Early on Wednesday I headed to the train station to take the Eurostar which is a train that goes under the Ocean to Paris and Brussels. We were headed to Brussels and we were dressed to kill in our business suits, so it was me and about 35 of my peers took over a large part of a train car and I attempted valiantly to sleep and or do homework but wound up not doing enough of either. So we hopped off the train and on to the bus and drove to the EU Parliment which is in Brussels while there we fought valiantly to remain awake. Some failed, like myself, and others succeeded. After that we did a brief walk to the lovely town center. Which we could not take the bus to because "it was forbidden." The square was lovely which gold lief buildings and neo gothic artichecture and strawberries dipped in chocolate nom nom nom. My favorite. Who knew I would miss that part about Germany. Then we drove to Luxemberg ate dinner and I went for a long walk along the bridge overlooking the natural fortifications of the city. It was a lovely trip and then I went to bed.
The next morning we visited another European institution-but the most moving part of the trip was the visit to the WWII monument. This is where General Patton is buried. It is here that the grounds are almost fanatically maintained. The grass is pristine the white marble crosses are sparkling. This is what we do with heroes. We honor their memory with manicured lawns and flowers, because frankly after they are gone you have nothing else to do for them. But I hope that sometimes when I feel that sparkle of gratitude and joy at the life I have the privilege of living because of histories present course that I am honoring them to.
My favorite leg of this trip was in France. I actually really love France the country is extreme beautiful. Strasburg certainly was, we stayed in a lovely hotel with a hot tub bath that I indulged in when ever possible. It was so fun we went out to dinner and I really got to met my peers. The evening was spent walking around the city and the morning on a cab ride to Waterloo. Which was a really lovely trip to a muddy field. No matter how great and historic Napoleons final defeat was I still felt like it was a muddy field. It is funny how our world is made in the most ordinary places like an ordinary field. The tyrant was unseated after his unbelievable escape from exile. That my friends is Waterloo.

Perspective

After living overseas for a few months I feel it may be time to pontificate on the wonder of the travel in Europe. But I think that what I have actually learned is best expressed through two pictures I took at an Irish Musuem.

This is the way I see the world. We live small lives. Day to day we work and we eat and we read and we live. And upon those occasions when the thoughts turn to the world in our narcastic way we think that we see the world as it really is. I thought I knew what I would like and dislike. How the Europeans would act and be. Who I would be, but the truth is. I really lacked perspective.



This is the way I see the world. We live small lives. Day to day we work and we eat and we read and we live. And upon those occasions when the thoughts turn to the world in our narcastic way we think that we see the world as it really is. I thought I knew what I would like and dislike. How the Europeans would act and be. Who I would be, but the truth is. I really lacked perspective. But to us our world is so big, and important.



But the truth is that the world is bigger then we really understand, and we in turn are not smaller, not less important or less meaningful. But we are smaller.

O Ireland

I just wanted to do a quick note about Ireland. The country of green and gray. Here is what I learned about Ireland it is wet like a sponge slowly being taken over by incredible thick muck, but enough about the people. Let's talk about the bog. Ireland has two types of bog the kind that sits on top of the hill which are remnants of an ancient forest-and the bog that is actually a lake that is eventually chocked by the grass from the bottom of the lake upward. Either way the land scape is damp and soggy and emits methane gas which is pretty freakin awesome since it means they have spontaneous fires erupting all over the swamp. Can you imagine the reaction of a poor, suspicious, uneducated, and slightly drunk people. I can.
But the castle was pretty and the atmosphere convivial-my personal favorite was when I bought my cladau ring. I was in the shop speaking to the local Irish man explaining that as an American I had a compulsion to assign and purchase things to their culture-which is why most people he made engagement rings for were Americans not the Irish. He laughed, we talked he poo pooed my idea of going to Cork and instead told me to visit Gulway which I did for 14 euro on the bus which took 2 hours each way to get to the opposite coast of Ireland-can you say tiny culture. Then when I finally paid him the fifteen for the ring he gave me 5 back and a 2 euro coin for a "little bit of luck" which of course I must keep. For when an Irish guy gives you a coin you never know who could be Leprachaun.
It was quite lovely all overcast and moody-but at the same time I wondered why this green was so much better then the rolling hills of Colorado. My favorite part of the trip was Gulway with the completely deserted beach. Shown in these two photos I now present for your amusement:

France

France: we took the train from London to Paris wound up in the train station had some extremely frustrating conversations with the local people. Who were rather rude and unhelpful thus it took us two hours to get our tickets for the Lamara Valley that evening, bags stored at the station and on the metro. Because our tickets were for three thirty and it was already 12 we only visited the Effiel tower that day and had a quick bite in a small cafe. Joseph and Renee are big into pictures Joseph especially he takes about a million photos of every little detail no object left undocumented. So we then hopped on the train and got hopelessly lost in the metro and the train we wanted was going to be coming in about 40 minutes anyway. So even though we budget one hour and 15 minutes to get the train station we wound up taking a cab to pick up our bags tearing through the train station to the metro and then tearing through a completely different train station to catch our train. Looking like total tourist which was of course confirmed by Joseph shouting-"we got a clear run, clear run" as we booked it to the train. We literally got on the train one minute before it pulled out of the station. Then there was no dining car on the train so we were all very thirsty for the next 2 hours.
Then we wound up in Amboise which is famous for the gorgeous chatea that is there and LEONARDO DAVINCE'S GRAVE IS THERE. It was freakin' awesome for a good 300 years the valley was the capital of France which is why it is so full of lovely castles. That night all of the tourist attractions were closed since it was about 7 pm and this is a small town in France. So we walked around and took lots of photos outside along the river, against the sunset. Then we sat down and had a sit down dinner at an outdoor cafe for 2.5 hours but it seemed like a ten minute meal. The food was the most perfect roast duck, french onion soup that was the best I have ever tasted and "fromage" which was cheese for desert. Joseph took pictures of all the food he always does. Then we went home to our hostel and went to bed.
The next morning we got up got a hotel in an even smaller town since there were literally no rooms available in Amboise. Then we headed over to the tourism office and booked a tour for that afternoon then ate at the same place as the night before. We then had a private tour with just the three of us and the tour guide offered to do the tour backwards so he would drop us off in the town that we were staying in and that saved us some major cab fair. So we saw Chatea de Chambord which was this crazy "hunting" castle with like 400 rooms and the man who built it stayed there 27 nights or so. It was like his cabin. The tour guide then said "is it any wonder that the French Revolution happened or that it did not happen sooner." Seeing the castle I could see the point, it was so lavish and wonderful, but it is basically empty now full of art exhibits, but the building itself was so lovely we took around a million pictures. The double helix stair case was also awesome it is said to have been designed by Davince and basically the staircases are parrellel to each other and you can see the person on the opposite stair but the stairs never cross. So after Chambord my traveling companions kept falling asleep in the car so I just listened to all the neat facts about the French Countryside. A very private tour indeed.
We stayed that night in a town that was so small the lady in the tourism office did not have maps she had a drawing of a single road. She took a pen and pointed at the paper and said "this is the chatea" and this is down town and that is it. So we saw the chatea de cheneax which is castle in the center of a lake. The castle was originally a mill that used the water to power the mill. Then all but the tower was torn down and it slowly built into a castle, by the original owners. Then things got scandalous. The King at the time Henry the II had a mistress which he was very found off so much so he bought her a palace. She then built a bridge across the river to access her gardens on the other side. To link the two wings. Sadly that wing was destroyed during a 1942 bombing, and was never rebuilt. Then King Henry died and his son was to young to take the thrown so Catherine de Minci his wife became regent and she took the castle back from our mistress. She then built two levels on the bridge and that is pretty much how it looks today. The gardens are a thing of beauty with this fountain in the center that Joseph decided to take a photo of himself playing in. This was pretty much a bad idea. First he walks over to the fountain at something of a run and then slips and falls on his back getting the only pair of jeans and his new white t-shirt muddy. So I at the time was snapping photos-and got some of him flat on the ground. Then he gingerly gets to his feet to try and restore the shot and the camera battery dies. Then a gaurd in a golf cart comes and tells him in French that it is "fopa" (sp) to do. It was pretty funny.
Then we journeyed inside the castle and saw the bedrooms of the Queens the mistress and the wife. It was a castle completely in a river. Lovely. The castle did survive the French Revolution because the owner at the time was very kind to the locals. So they were like-why should we kill her. It was also used as hospital during the second world war.
After we finished seeing the castle we headed into town and ate a 16 euro even cheaper three course meal of fresh melon, curry pork and ice cream. Finally we went back to our hotel and tried to get a cab back to Ambios to get a train from there to Paris since we were leaving that night and I wanted to see the Louvre and Joseph Notre Dame. So the hotel owner offered to have her boyfriend drive us back it cost us 10 euro which was a lot less then any cab. We wound up in Paris at 12 got a good map this time that had both the streets and the metro stops. So after dropping off the luggage Joseph and I headed into Paris and Renee, who had seen Paris, went to Chatres to see a gothic cathedral. A quick stop at the Arc of the Truimp and then a hour wait to get into the Louvre which Joseph skipped. I loved it. There is a reason this is the most famous art museum in the entire world. I saw the mona lissa which is quite small and has about a million tourist around it. Saw the Venus de Milo that was lovely the face is so striking I can see why the sculpture is famous. My favorite sculpture was Cupid and Physch which shows cupid holding her while he is flying. I also loved the sculptures of the slaves that Micheal Angelo did for the tomb of Pope Julio but never completed since the project was canceled. The set was never completed but 4 of them are in the Accademia near the David and the other two the completed ones are in the Louvre and I saw them. They were amazing. It was all so lovely. Then we went to Notre Dame climbed the bell tower and saw inside the great wooden tower. After which we began our slow walk back to the train station along the river which while Joseph took pictures of well everything I found an oil painting that I just fell in love with. It is a women who has just woken up. It was 45 euro and it will look great in an office or something and mostly will be the perfect Paris keepsake.
Then we took the train home-to London.

I got my books

School started last week-so that means homework now must be balanced against my travel lust and london saturation.
This weekend we are planning to pay a visit to France. We are taking the train to Paris early Friday morning were we will see the Effiel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, then at night we will take the train to Amera valley and see some French Castles on Saturday and then end the trip at Monte St. Michel. Which is an island near Normandy should be lovely. This week was ordinary classes started as did school. So we did not go anywhere for the weekend except for Carnival which was this crazy festival down on Portabello street, which is basically a giant market here, you know like the song from Bedknobs and broomsticks. Song begins playing in my head-Portabello Road, Portabello Road, street were the riches of ages are sold. Which is usually full of shops but Monday was full of mostly naked people-it is like Carnival in Brazil but b/c London is so multicultural it was really like Jamacia, Ghana, Uganda, and a ton of other mostly African nations. They wore the scant glittery bikinis and booty danced in the street. Which is ironic because it was really like wrinkly old women which when so adorned was a sobering experience for me. I on the other hand represented my adopted German heritage and wore a dindel which is a traditional Bavarian dress-needless to say we did not fit in.
I also saw three plays last week-Mama Mia which was so positive and cheerful even if the lead singer was a little pitchy. Les Mes-the most moving play I have seen literally had tears rolling down my cheeks. Phantom on Saturday with some new friends from Church so all in all it was very fun. I went dancing on Wednesday and discovered that I need lessons on Tango, did ok with the Salsa part.

London and a bit on Italy

My first week in the UK was basically summed up in a single sentence-Shannon sits at a computer and looks for a flat. Meaning all of what I saw was the inside of the tube and thus I have no amusing or funny stories other then how high the rent is in this area of the UK. And the act that a creepy Egyptian guy in his overtures of flirtation actually touched my lips and said-you have nice lips. I found this an odd comment I never really considered lips to be a big draw. They can certainly count against you if you have a twisted lip or cleft pallet or something but I never thought of lips as a feature to attract someone with the obivious exception of Brad Pitt’s present love interest.
I am willing to admit that my favorite part of the UK was my trip to the theatre tonight-I saw Chicago-not the city for those of you clever enough to make that joke-the play. I would like to say that the play is very well done in the UK the dancing is great and it helps that there are many extremely well muscled dancers in nice tight black outfits. But overall it was very fun-side note in the stage play the Velma (that is Catherine Z’s character from the film) her story is never concluded you never find out how she is aquited. I also got a pedicure for 12 pounds it seemed a worthwhile venture-turned out very cute and I was pleased with the results-but then I had to buy the cute strappy saddles three doors down that not only showed off my new toes are surprisingly comfortable for only being 19.99 quid.
But since nothing is new on the UK front I thought I would talk a bit about Venice which is a lovely city- I enjoyed the outer islands of murano and burano with it’s houses like tiny jewels. The city was to crowded for me to really enjoy anything and it rained and I was stranded in Venice. Thus I am sad to say I did not enjoy my final destination. But tomorrow I am looking forward to moving into a permenant abode for the next four months.
So Ciao for now!!

The Epistle of Italy

As Paul so often wrote to his followers in the far flung regions of the world I too am preparing to write a diatribe towards those proverbial saints. Mostly I am tired of the world. That is right tired of the world I can totally understand why people stay in there tiny apartments and never leave them. The world is a big confusing and difficult to navigate place. As much as I love Europe nothing makes any sense to me, I can barely understand the maps and I am mostly just lost all the time. For example today I bought a ticket for Florence (firenzi) here and when the train made that stop I asked the lady if this was the main station she said this is Firenzi de campo, see in Germany you only want to get off at the main train stations or you can literally wind up at a train station in the middle of field next to nothing for freakin miles, so I did not get off the train. In Italy they only make one stop per city so yours truly was trapped on the train for another hour and wound up in Bologna, yes that is a real place, decided not to stay since the guide book mention 3 bus bombings in a ten year span in Bologna. Instead bought another train ticket heading back to Florence YEAH!! Incompentence of the traveler. My primary concern at this moment is a actually the fact that I have no idea where I am sleeping tonight which is also awesome for those who are fans of American girls getting robbed on park benches. I sincerely hope there is some room at the Inn.

Not to mention the fact that I am totally alone meaning that I go for literally days without talking to someone who knows me. In a way it is liberating to be completely anonymous and met entirely new people constantly refining how you identify yourself, and you realize what it is that really sets you apart from other people. On the other hand there is no emotional investment, no one REALLY cares, there is no friendship that is full of deep understanding, and since often your meeting people who will soon scatter again across the globe the relationship is just as fleeting.

Rome can be described in a few words, ancient, eternal, ironic, violent and SHOPPING!! I loved that part. Rome is a city that spans since Before Christ and is a fascinating mix of ruins cobbled with a modern city. Ironic fact one: the feral cats in Rome where granted citizenship under Mosilini since they were actually released by an ancient Roman Emporer, he is big into the rediscovery of ancient Roman roots, to deal with the rat problem since then over 800,000 cats chill out all over the city and the oldest site of Temples in Rome is a cat sactionary. Anywho, I did a lot of what your expected to do in Rome I visited the Vatacain saw the Sistine Chapel, which is huge and the most crowded room in the whole of Italy I feel. My favorite part was the finger of God touching Adam bringing life into him., Also God has a pretty great butt and Jesus a nice set of abs according to Michelangelo’s renderings. Interesting fact two, MichealAngelo can not paint CHICS seriously I have seem some beautifully rendered female forms in marble and in fresco his look like dudes with breasts just hanging off their frame. The men are things of beauty with perfectly sculpted muscles. So that is pretty much awesome. I went on 3 tours from my hostel I saw the slut fountain a fountain designed by Bernini to look like the Pope’s niece spreading her legs with the family crest as the clitorious. It is also a drinking fountain, in Rome they have fountains just scattered about and everyone is constantly refilling their water bottles and drinking from them. So the slut fountain has a stream from the center of her legs that people have been drinking out of for like 500 years.

Also saw a church that was totally full of bones, that is right bones the Cupicin (side note they were white hats and brown robes much like a capacino) monks changed monastaries and when they did so they had to bring the bodies of the former monks with them and instead of reburying them in a nice catacomb they made chandeliers, chapels and rerrected skeletons with partially decomposed monks around these chambers. The very last room house three tiny reassembled skeletons over a sign that reads “As you are we once were and as we are so shall you be.” In other words YOU ARE GOING TO DIE SOMEDAY BUDDY. Spooky right? I thought so to, but in a way it is a poignant message all be it meladramatic, with the mounds of bones, but death is an inevitability and perhaps facing it with courage and caution towards are present action is better approach then our present “let’s pretend no one will ever die” policy.

So I am now in Firenzi-Ciao for now, much more to come.

Also I visited St. Peter’s Bassiliaca which is erected over the bones of Peter Jesus’s apostle and the first Pope. The chapel is gorgeous it is adorned with 2/3 of the marble stripped from the Great Collesium it also houses MichealAngelos first masterpiece Christ in the supin position after his cruxifiction across the lap of the Madonna. It is the only work he ever signed. Since no one believed it was his work. The church has a huge half dome like the pantheon but it is smaller by 1 meter. This masterpiece (the parathenon) is massive each column weighs 100 tons like ten cars for each the only way to erect them is pulling them up by Elephants which would not seem so bad but they came from Egypt NOT Rome. Which just shows that the Romans don’t due it unless it is over the top and completely unnecessary.

The temple was meant to be for all the pagan gods and now it is a concecrated catholic church just like the Collesium which used to house the games that slayed Christians literally tens of thousands of Christians in fact.

Spain

Lets start from last weekend, I have not written about Spain yet. So I flew into spain an airport called Memmigan it proved to be a most inconvenient trip over an hour from Barcelona and over 3 hours from Augsburg the airports literally ate a whole day in transition each way. It was a big city and it was quiet lovely and hot. My personal favorite site was La Sagrada Familia a church that has been under construction since the turn of the century and it is not finished. It is magnificent gothic and modern, but again it is compelling for it is intended to show the two most significant events in Christ life, in the eyes of most denominations, his birth and the events leading to his death. This is by far Gaudi's greatest.






This was the most spectacular building I have seen, with lovely detail and massive structure the entire city is defined by the power of the church. I even climbed the 430 steps to the top of the tower looking down over the entire city so lovely.

Prague

Has been given the nickname the Golden City which is frankly an overused metaphor the “Golden Gate Bridge” is orange not gold, the “streets are paved in gold,” it just makes me wonder why anything good is as good as gold. But I am getting off topic. Prague is a city that is quiet lovely and crowded. It is a quintessential tourist destination and thousands pack themselves into the sites and purchases things with the crowns that they received at a ridiculously bad rate from the money changers next door, when an ATM would give you a better rate and lower fee.
The city is a quiet town and it is old, so old that everywhere you go something is beautiful and old. Though I went on no tours today and in truth don’t know the significance of really anything I photographed, honestly I don’t think any one else does either. But I took pictures, saw a castles and then got lost wondering the streets to stumble upon a bridge of love where lovers left locks with there names on them. It made my heart ache that I had no lover to lock with. My heart also splintered when I watched the beggars sit with their forehead to the ground and a cup or hat in their hands. Someone drops in a coin and the beggar bobs his head in a bow of gratitude. How sad. How tragic.
I saw a castle that is from around 13th Century it is too tall to fit the tops of the steeple in the same frame as the door on my camera. I meander through winding gardens. Streets no wider then one lane, and then I stumble down to Charles Bridge, probably the second most famous destination Prague I timed it so when the sun was setting I was walking along the bridge. It is stunning. And again I sad that my dear readers can only see the photos for the camera never picks up on the right light. The sunset was the perfect shade of pink not orange, the lights reflected gently of the surface not the harsh contrast of cameras.
But ultimately Prague feels expensive. Annoyingly so. They are so careful. The “service charge” at the end of a meal. The refusal to serve tap water. The money changer offer 15 crowns to the dollar even though the rate is 18 to 1. It annoys me. In Germany people make every effort to save you money. They tell you about sales and discounts, they try and keep what you receive within the limits you set. In Prague they want to charge 13999 crowns for the doll which if your interested is around $450.

Jerusalem 2.5

This is after the walk through the check point back into Israel I headed to the Arabic bus stop and visited the Garden Tomb and Golgatha which it turns out are right next to a bus station. It was right in the middle of the Arab quarter right next to busy street and then you walk into a small gate and it is so peaceful and quiet. It was such a contrast. And right next to the grave there is the mountain known as Golgatha.




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Hello my dear readers,
Be you few and far between, I know that my post have not been consist lately I hope you have also been checking facebook for the photos that I have uploaded. Today will not be my usual cheerful recollection of the events of my travels rather I am writing today about my trip to Dachau. So be warned my reader for today my thoughts are sad.
This concentration camp is what was once an ammunition depot during WWI forced closed by the treaties signed by all parties. This place was thus ideally for a prison camp it had rail lines in and old building abandoned meaning that only a few renovations were needed to make the place into what it became. This camp was not a death camp. This camp is not Auswitz where extermination was the goal, nor was this camp Mauthausen where prisoners were expected to hoist 50 kilo rocks up a hill until they collapsed and if they were injured and their malnourished bones snapped they were shot on the spot. In fact for a few months this camp closed and 1,600 prisoners went to that camp and 400 returned. This camp was one for humiliation. This camp is one with more minor tortures, persons hung with their wrist bound behind them for 60 minutes, or beaten 25 times as the prisoner counted aloud in German. One mistake they began again. Many Poles, Russians, and others who did not speak German died upon the block beaten to death often by other prisoners under the eyes of even more brutal guards. These were the punishments administered for those who left dirt on the floor or failed to make their bed in a manor that satisfied the guard.

The magnitude of the Holocaust the care and consideration of his schemes where overwhelming, this was a systematic elimination of his opponents. And as I stand on the gravel of the quiet courtyard unremarkable as it is this is ground that feet bled onto in the Winter and prisoners collapsed during the infamous 17 hour stand while the gaurds sought a single man who escaped. This is the camp where Shiller conducted his famous experiments on prisoners, inducing death by extreme pressure and tempiture changes. This is where the children of Franz Fredinand whose assination spurred the Great War his sons were here.
The camp was built for 6,000 when liberated it held 30,000 and the year before it 80,000 with 20,000 people dying in a single winter from Typus. The official record sites 32,000 deaths but how many POWs were shot or prisoners never registered? Simply executed. The crematoriums were beyond capacity and mounds of bodies where finally discovered by allied troops. Estimates are as high as 42,000 people, greater then the population of the neighboring city of Munich.
Seeing the torture rooms the spot for the bars to hang prisoners and the whipping block now abandoned. My heart splinters at the thought of such sadness. Such grief. A testament to what happens when evil is allowed to take hold in the hearts of men, for any person with an understanding of the atonement of Christ’s sacrifice for each of us, can not help but feel the pain.
The entrance to the camp translates to “work will set you free,” and at first this may have been true, a few prisoners were released with the understanding that if they deviated if they failed to report on a daily basis they would be returned to the camp and as the lowest of the low-a repeater-they would not survive long. This sign adorned every concentration camp. But ultimately it came to mean that when you worked till death then you were truly free. For once their useful years expired prisoners where killed. They survived on four bits of bread, vegetable soup that was mostly water and worked 12 hour days. To weak to rise against their captors work kept them alive, kept them from being a part of the final solution.
For 12 years this camp operated, during that time a red cross inspected the camp and wrote the German government a letter asking why everyone complained about these concentration camps. That it was a perfect camp, no complaints. It was during those years that Hitler was named man of the year by Time magazine, he took over Poland, Austria and France. It was during those last years that Hitler finally died by his own hand, rather than face an angry world and the public hanging that awaited him. He was never imprisoned never once was he stripped of his identity and assigned a number, for him until his last breath he was free. But this man took a culture a society that was advanced and western and within a few years eliminated it. The stated goal of that camp was to strip each prisoner of his human dignity something that the Fuhr was never subjected to.
I stand in the courtyard and I like those before me I promise never again, and I offer a prayer for peace.
It is on this day that I am ever more grateful for my family, my faith, and my country. To have been born in a time of peace, to have worries that are so few, and complaints so simple, to have such moments of joy in my life, to worry about eating to much food.

Day 2

Today dawns early I am eager to get to the money changer and pay my bill before I met the girls I met the night before for our trip to the West Bank. I had spent 12 hours or so touring around the old city of Jerusalem, and while there I had enjoyed a shower. With a shower that refused to turn off, in fact I had to call the desk and the boy they sent in wrestled with the shower for ten minutes and had to see me in a towel, so it was a rough night all around.
After I was finally clean I wound up going to dinner and buying my most expensive meal, 45 sheks which is roughly equal to 18 dollars for basically a pile of meat. It was also the Jewish holy day, so they kept shooting of firecrackers which to the person who was spending her first night in a city torn by conflict sounded a lot like gun shots. Anyway so this restaraunt did send a runner to pick me up and take me back so I consider the extra price for the escort. Tangently the old city is basically a walking city there are a few roads on the outskirts of the city but in the shok no cars can pentrate, it does not help that none of the streets are clearly labeled or line up with the maps which does not matter since any local giving you directions is not going to know the street names anyway. But the best piece of advice I was given was this, if your walking up hill your headed to the Jaffa gate, and downhill your headed to the Damscus gate. Anyway so this kid took me to a place I could not likely find again for a hundred dollars, and I wound up taking a seat by myself.
These two girls asked me if I was traveling alone and when I said yes they invited me to sit with them. These girls Ellie and Laura were from Bristol, England, and so we agreed to meet at 9:30 the following day. So the at 7 am I rose and packed my bags and showered and ran to the money changer to draw from my newly unlocked card paid my bill and left my luggage in the hall and ate a free breakfast. Which the counter guy gave me, the first of many kindness showed me by these people.
Anyway I was early to the gate and they a bit late but that was due to the fight with the crowd in the Muslim Quarter of the city which is the largest and the most crowded. Anyway since it was Saturday it was the Sabbath for Jews so we took the Arab bus past the check point leaving us in Pakinstan with a bunch of cab drivers offering us rides. Fortunately Lauren was a much better batterer and finally we battered him down to 5 sheks a piece but after five hours of touring we payed him 150 sheks since he took us everywhere under the sun. He drove us to the wall which was just covered in trash and graffiti. Done by Banksy the artist who often draws political and controversial pieces.




Then we saw the church of the Nazareth and the Eastern orthodox site of Mary’s Tomb, the Tomb and Tower of David.

Jerusalem day 1

A flight in to Tel Aviv at 2 a.m. brought a tired and sleepless tourist to the hot country of Israel, my bank card locked me out, so I had 65 euros or about 250 shekels to my name. It cost 50 shekels to get to Jerusalem by a Sherut or a collective taxi. It parked outside the Damscus gate and I marched into the deserted streets of Jerusalem found my hostel and left my bags there for the day.


In my first few hours I managed to climb the supremely narrow stair case passed the bells to the top of the tower of hte Divine Redeemer. And saw the entire city laid out.



From their I had to beat of another person seeking to take me on a city tour for like 200 shekels. It is this annoying thing that these guys do, they sit around the city looking for people who look lost and they keep offering to take you on a city tour in their broken English. "I am a school teacher, I live here my whole life." yada, yada. I had trouble shaking one of them off when I told him I was planning on going on the free tour offered he said, "fine you keep making the rich richer." In the end I did go on a tour of the Mount of Olives through the same company with their certified guides and much better english for 70 sheks which is about $20. So for anyone planning to visit the Holy city DO NOT ACCEPT tours from these guys on street corners they are trying to overcharge you and do not know the city well enough to pass the exam and become a legal licensed city guide.
Anyway irrelevant tangent over, after shaking off the angry would be tour leaders, I headed over to the church of the Holy Sceplcure. I know that for many faiths this is considered one of the most holy sites in Jerusalem. It mostly felt confusing and sad, it felt almost completely tense, like the church was caught in the middle of this ancient turf war and each faith was so consumed in jealous protection of their site they had forgotten about the place itself. The building was worn down, and it had just stuff randomly stored in hallways and behind doors,nothing was lit or labeled and it did not feel much like a church at all. Fortunately my early hour left the church mostly empty, but I had no idea what I was supposed to be seeing.