Just to confuse your conception time, I'm going to give a quick rundown of my past week, and then hopefully give another post describing my big trip.
This week was the start of final exams at Royal Holloway. These are the tests for which students have apparently been studying for a grand total of 4, now 4+ weeks. I had a final on Wednesday and a final on Friday. I started studying... last weekend? With my computer issues and all, it was late. And for the Friday test I started studying on Thursday. And you know what? The tests didn't seem all that bad. They are only two essay questions and two hours long. And you get to choose the two essays from a choice of 9-10. Maybe I'll be terribly surprised by the grades, but hopefully not.
In other news, I went to Brighton yesterday. Arcadia was leading a "day trip" that I had paid for way back in January when I got to England. So I was up at 6 am to leave my room at 7, catch a train at 7:23, to get into London to catch the Arcadia coach at 9. It was a hassle to say the least. Then the bus left late and the ride took way too long (like over two hours), getting us to Brighton around 11:30. Then we were told we had to be back on the bus to return at 3:50! My reaction... nope. My friend Leah from Royal Holloway had taken a train out to Brighton to meet us and spend the day, so I just ditched Arcadia and bought a train ticket home, letting me stay until I wanted to go home.
In Brighton there is not a ton to do. I got to see the Royal Pavilion because the Arcadia trip included admission there, but I wasn't really into it. After traveling in Europe for a period of time, it grows increasingly difficult to be impressed by senseless displays of wealth. Although it did have a really sweet chandelier. It was a dragon... never mind, you'd have to see it to appreciate it. Unfortunately pictures weren't allowed. Sorry. I guess another thing to note about the Royal Pavilion is that it does not match England in any way, shape or form. Apparently built by George IV, before he was king, it looks like the Taj Mahal and the inside is decorated with things like dragons and other not-England things. Very strange.
(This is the spot where I was planning on inserting a couple pictures I took while in Brighton, but I can not remove them from my camera. Do not, and I repeat, do not, ever purchase a Kodak camera. The software, and even the hardware, functioned shakily with my laptop before my virus. Now that I've had to start over again... I can neither get my pictures off the camera by using Kodak Easyshare, nor by going directly to the camera via My Computer... grrrrrr. There is a reason they are about to fold. Sorry George Eastman.)
After the pavilion we spent the day wandering the beach (pebble, not sand) exploring as much of the pier as we dared, and chowing down on overpriced hot dogs and chips. I suppose Brighton also offers the opportunity to do various arcade games and amusement rides on the pier, but that wasn't really what we wanted/could afford to do, so we just wandered. But it was pleasant, and the weather was beautiful. And the ride back to Egham on the train? Less than half the time than if I had gone back with Arcadia ;-)
Finally: today (apologies for the stream of consciousness that dominates my posts, by the way). After months and months of waiting, I heard from the senior citizen center that I had passed my background check while I was traveling. This is because despite approaching them all the way back in January they were running a background check on me that included snail mailing forms and questions to my references... in the United States. Ugh. In any case, after passing my background check I went in to volunteer for the first time today. They apparently never get volunteers, and didn't really know what to do with me. So they said to just walk around and chat with the residents. The residents are generally in great need of care. Many suffer from various degrees of dimentia, many have trouble walking, that sort of thing. I went on a walk outside with one woman who was completely mobile and quite talkative, but did not have any grasp on the current reality. Some of her sentences would start on one topic and apparently change two or three times by the end, referring to things that weren't there and people I didn't know. At first it was difficult to converse with her, but then it actually became really easy because you could say absolutely anything and get a heartfelt and enthusiastic reply!
A lot of it was obviously very sad, and I wish I could help more, but hopefully just showing an interest and being around to talk to helps in some small way.
Showing posts with label train. Show all posts
Showing posts with label train. Show all posts
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
In this part of Switzerland, everone speaks...
I have my computer back again after its lobotomy, and I'm ready to tell you a little more about traveling in Europe. But how do you tell people about three whole weeks in a blog? I can't do it. So instead I'm going to tell you bits and pieces, in no particular order. We'll start with Zermatt.
It is an interesting little place. It is full of people in synthetic pants and plastic boots. Keep reading. I went because my guidebook said it was scenic, lying beneath the epic Matterhorn, and had many outdoorsy things to do, from hiking to biking, and obviously skiing. It seemed like the perfect place to get away from cities after spending two weeks in Naples, Florence, Rome and Geneva. So from Geneva I hopped on a train that took me to Visp, and in Visp I boarded a train for Zermatt. The train to Zermatt went up. And up. And up. I'd never been on a train that went so far up. I'm pretty sure I've been on steeper inclines in cars, but I can't remember ever feeling an incline while riding a train. But to get to Zermatt, the train goes up.
Getting of the train in Zermatt was weird. For starters, it was much bigger than I expected. I had envisioned some sort of rustic, outdoorsy village with cabins and not much else. The fact that Zermatt made it into my Western Europe guidebook should have clued me into the fact that there would be plenty of civilization. Emerging from the train station there were a ton of people milling about (I got there around 4-ish in the afternoon) on the street in the bright sunlight. They were all wearing synthetic pants. To get to my hostel I had to walk down the main street. There was store after store selling Swiss Army knives and watches and things of that touristy nature. There was the obligatory McDonalds, because as much as the US loves McDonalds, I think Switzerland has at least one McDonalds per each nuclear family unit.
I may as well make another observation about the Swiss here, that is of particular importance to this story. They have no language. Or, the alternative is that they have every language. I spent the whole time having no idea what to say! In Geneva things were clearly French (or some variety of it) for the majority, but everyone also spoke excellent English... and Swahili for all I know. And I mean everyone. Even the people doing the menial tasks at restaurants. I think everyone in Switzerland is capable of carving their own modern day Rosetta stone. It is amazing. Keep this in mind.
As I walked towards my hostel I noted something else. No cars. Only these weird car-cart hybrid things, all of them electric. The only gasoline powered vehicle in the entire town was the ambulance that wandered the streets day after day, presumably bored and with nothing better to do (I literally saw it everywhere). It was something I would have found particularly novel if I had not already read that this would be the case in my guidebook. I think there is something to be said for going somewhere and just being surprised (which, by the way, is what I will be doing in Brighton tomorrow).
I won't give a detailed rundown of the entire 2 1/2 days I spent in Zermatt, because it was mostly spent walking or sitting in the sun and reading. Instead I'm going to hit you with a stream on consciousness of memories.... ready? I ate something called "Paniertes Schweinsschnitzel mit Pommes Frites" which is a really long way to say breaded pork with fries. I saw a ginormous St. Bernard, which made me happy because it fulfilled a stereotype. I discovered there wasn't half the hiking I expected, but I was okay with that. Zermatt is filled with thousands of skiers. Everyone skis, without exception, period. There was probably one person from every country in the world in Zermatt. My hostel had a "take a book, leave a book." I took a book and finished it while I was there. It was really bad, but it was the only one in English, and somehow was mildly addicting. I saw a parachutist/glider guy land. I saw a helicopter take off. I found a sign while hiking pointing the way to "Moos," and I thought of Monty Python. Zermatt may have been bigger than I thought it would be, but I still walked every inch of it. I couldn't find the fire house, sorry Mama and Papa G. But it did have a Remax. Skiers have funny raccoon tans, and they all wear synthetic pants and plastic ski boots.
And finally, the important point I wanted to make about language. Switzerland is inherently confused about what to speak to begin with, so they just speak everything. This is particularly important in Zermatt because in my hostel alone there were people from Spain, the US, China and Italy. Take ten people off the street at random and you will find 9 different languages are spoken. The tenth person doesn't have an official language because they got really dehydrated while skiing one day, and now only speak "dude-speak." So it is helpful to be multilingual. But with all these people from various places in one spot, it is amazing to note that there are two universals tying them all together. Skiing, and synthetic pants for skiing. Seriously, as you walk down the street you are almost driven to madness by the "swish, swish, swish" of people going to and from the ski lifts. So in the end to be honest, even though everyone in Zermatt is from a different part of the world, you really don't need to be multilingual. You only need to know one language in Zermatt, in fact. Because in this part of Switzerland, everyone speaks Swish.
It is an interesting little place. It is full of people in synthetic pants and plastic boots. Keep reading. I went because my guidebook said it was scenic, lying beneath the epic Matterhorn, and had many outdoorsy things to do, from hiking to biking, and obviously skiing. It seemed like the perfect place to get away from cities after spending two weeks in Naples, Florence, Rome and Geneva. So from Geneva I hopped on a train that took me to Visp, and in Visp I boarded a train for Zermatt. The train to Zermatt went up. And up. And up. I'd never been on a train that went so far up. I'm pretty sure I've been on steeper inclines in cars, but I can't remember ever feeling an incline while riding a train. But to get to Zermatt, the train goes up.
Getting of the train in Zermatt was weird. For starters, it was much bigger than I expected. I had envisioned some sort of rustic, outdoorsy village with cabins and not much else. The fact that Zermatt made it into my Western Europe guidebook should have clued me into the fact that there would be plenty of civilization. Emerging from the train station there were a ton of people milling about (I got there around 4-ish in the afternoon) on the street in the bright sunlight. They were all wearing synthetic pants. To get to my hostel I had to walk down the main street. There was store after store selling Swiss Army knives and watches and things of that touristy nature. There was the obligatory McDonalds, because as much as the US loves McDonalds, I think Switzerland has at least one McDonalds per each nuclear family unit.
I may as well make another observation about the Swiss here, that is of particular importance to this story. They have no language. Or, the alternative is that they have every language. I spent the whole time having no idea what to say! In Geneva things were clearly French (or some variety of it) for the majority, but everyone also spoke excellent English... and Swahili for all I know. And I mean everyone. Even the people doing the menial tasks at restaurants. I think everyone in Switzerland is capable of carving their own modern day Rosetta stone. It is amazing. Keep this in mind.
As I walked towards my hostel I noted something else. No cars. Only these weird car-cart hybrid things, all of them electric. The only gasoline powered vehicle in the entire town was the ambulance that wandered the streets day after day, presumably bored and with nothing better to do (I literally saw it everywhere). It was something I would have found particularly novel if I had not already read that this would be the case in my guidebook. I think there is something to be said for going somewhere and just being surprised (which, by the way, is what I will be doing in Brighton tomorrow).
I won't give a detailed rundown of the entire 2 1/2 days I spent in Zermatt, because it was mostly spent walking or sitting in the sun and reading. Instead I'm going to hit you with a stream on consciousness of memories.... ready? I ate something called "Paniertes Schweinsschnitzel mit Pommes Frites" which is a really long way to say breaded pork with fries. I saw a ginormous St. Bernard, which made me happy because it fulfilled a stereotype. I discovered there wasn't half the hiking I expected, but I was okay with that. Zermatt is filled with thousands of skiers. Everyone skis, without exception, period. There was probably one person from every country in the world in Zermatt. My hostel had a "take a book, leave a book." I took a book and finished it while I was there. It was really bad, but it was the only one in English, and somehow was mildly addicting. I saw a parachutist/glider guy land. I saw a helicopter take off. I found a sign while hiking pointing the way to "Moos," and I thought of Monty Python. Zermatt may have been bigger than I thought it would be, but I still walked every inch of it. I couldn't find the fire house, sorry Mama and Papa G. But it did have a Remax. Skiers have funny raccoon tans, and they all wear synthetic pants and plastic ski boots.
And finally, the important point I wanted to make about language. Switzerland is inherently confused about what to speak to begin with, so they just speak everything. This is particularly important in Zermatt because in my hostel alone there were people from Spain, the US, China and Italy. Take ten people off the street at random and you will find 9 different languages are spoken. The tenth person doesn't have an official language because they got really dehydrated while skiing one day, and now only speak "dude-speak." So it is helpful to be multilingual. But with all these people from various places in one spot, it is amazing to note that there are two universals tying them all together. Skiing, and synthetic pants for skiing. Seriously, as you walk down the street you are almost driven to madness by the "swish, swish, swish" of people going to and from the ski lifts. So in the end to be honest, even though everyone in Zermatt is from a different part of the world, you really don't need to be multilingual. You only need to know one language in Zermatt, in fact. Because in this part of Switzerland, everyone speaks Swish.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Travel Plans
Alright, so everything is finally booked and set for the spring break/bank breaking trip for "spring break." For starters, the last day of lectures was on Friday March 27, and the first day of testing is on Monday April 27. Everything in between is deemed a "revision period." This, of course, is taken by all the visiting Americans to mean "spring break." My first test is on the 29th of April.
I begin my travels tomorrow evening when I leave London on a plane from Gatwick Airport, and land in Naples. Why Naples? Pompeii and Vesuvius of course!:
On Thursday, April 2, I will hop on a train in Naples, and hop back off again when I reach Florence (alright, maybe I'll get off to make a connection or two first...). My Mom will meet me in Florence, and together we'll get utterly lost in what I've heard described as the most difficult city in Europe to navigate:
Then, on April 5 we will hop on another train, this one heading for Rome. I'm not really sure what there is to see in this sleepy little town in Italy...
On the 9th, Mom will take off on a plane back to the US, and I will board yet another train, changing up countries when I arrive in Geneva, Switzerland, home of... does the UN count as the world? Okay, home of the world:
After 4 cities, I thought I'd get tired of the hustle and bustle. So I decided that on April 13th I'd take leave of the cities to go explore some natural beauty, and check out the Alps from Zermatt, Switzerland:
After soaking it all in, doing a little hiking, as well as a little relaxing, I will be recharged and ready for my last stop. A rather lengthy train ride will get me to Paris on the 16th:
Finally, on April 20th I will hop a train back to London, with about a week and a half to prepare for my first exam. Hopefully by then I'll remember something.
I begin my travels tomorrow evening when I leave London on a plane from Gatwick Airport, and land in Naples. Why Naples? Pompeii and Vesuvius of course!:
On Thursday, April 2, I will hop on a train in Naples, and hop back off again when I reach Florence (alright, maybe I'll get off to make a connection or two first...). My Mom will meet me in Florence, and together we'll get utterly lost in what I've heard described as the most difficult city in Europe to navigate:
Then, on April 5 we will hop on another train, this one heading for Rome. I'm not really sure what there is to see in this sleepy little town in Italy...
On the 9th, Mom will take off on a plane back to the US, and I will board yet another train, changing up countries when I arrive in Geneva, Switzerland, home of... does the UN count as the world? Okay, home of the world:
After 4 cities, I thought I'd get tired of the hustle and bustle. So I decided that on April 13th I'd take leave of the cities to go explore some natural beauty, and check out the Alps from Zermatt, Switzerland:
After soaking it all in, doing a little hiking, as well as a little relaxing, I will be recharged and ready for my last stop. A rather lengthy train ride will get me to Paris on the 16th:
Finally, on April 20th I will hop a train back to London, with about a week and a half to prepare for my first exam. Hopefully by then I'll remember something.
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