I Have Arrived in Saas-Fee

This is the view from my window in Saas-fee. It is very hard to describe what it is like. The mountains you see in this photo surround us.

I arrived yesterday after a beautiful train ride and a harrowing bus ride. After getting here... Well the social climate is as hard to put into words as the physical climate. I may have to attempt this in conversation with each one of you since there is so much to say and so many ways to express it. I like my classmates a lot, each one is incredibly unique.

It is lunch time on my first day and I can aleady tell you the structure of my days. I get up and swim in the pool, go to breakfast, read and write, go to the first class, eat lunch, talk with classmates, read and write and nap, go to second class, eat dinner, go to evening lecture. That is about it.

I will probably not be posting while I am here, but will continue when I finish. I will email personally from time to time (Wade, Peter and Louisa - you are overdue for one from me) and feel free to drop a line anytime. I will let you know when I continue traveling, but for now I am in the clouds!
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Berit's New Motto: Not Fall & Crawl, Instead Fall & Ride a Hog

There are no photos for this one. And I'll explain the title of this post in a bit.

I wasn't planning on posting today since it was more of the same, studying and reading. I did meet up with one of my new classmates tonight for dinner and we hit it off great. He's from Madrid and already has a politcal science doctorate but wants to continue his studies. It was a good meal.

Then I got on the tram, the very last one of the evening to go the twenty minute ride to my far away hotel. Four stops in I realize that I don't recognize ANY stop names. I am on the wrong train yet again... This time in the middle of the night in Geneva. I get off fully prepared to walk but eyeing ATM possibilities to get a cab - very expensive. I fell.

Not literally, but it goes back to my mother's story about how I learned to walk. I'd start straight out across the middle of the room and fall but make it my crawling. Much of my life has followed suit, I go for where I need to get to and if I happen to fall, I'll crawl. Which is what I was prepared to do this evening.

So I found an ATM and a gentleman was just finishing. He asked me in French if the fireworks went off yet (it is like 4th of July tonight) but he had an English-American accent so I asked him if it was easy to get a cab or where to go. He said it was a pretty busy night and I told him I took the wrong train. We said where we were from, he's from New York. A couple full cabs passed as I tried to get more francs but he said he would give me a ride on his Harley Davidson. I wasn't sure but he gave me his card, he's worked for the UN for 13 years, so I trusted him and took a ride around Geneva on a very American bike! We even took a detour around old town Geneva with its winding tiny cobblestone streets! And of course I got home fine. And it was a lot better than crawling or walking or taking a cab.

It is such a strange story I had to relate it straight away. And now time for bed because I have to go to school tomorrow!
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Somewhere In Between

Sorry the posts are coming less frequently, but I have less and less things to relate on a travel blog. I have been dutifully getting ready for a very intense next three weeks. The photo displayed here is of the hallway between the lift and my room here in Geneva. It is rather like a scene from a David Lynch film or a William Burrough's Interzone (sans heroin). But more about the in-betweenness later.

Yesterday I gathered up all my belongings in the dark of the hostel, the roommates all snug in their beds. I took a taxi to the train station and took the very fast train to Lyon. I have to say that out of all the modes of travel my favorite is by train.

At the Lyon station I had the perfect amount of time to get to my next train, but in my confidence I was not careful to see how many trains were at one platform and I got on the one to Evian, not Geneva! Luckily I was able to jump off at a stop in Bellegarde and jump on to the Geneva bound train before the three trains separated. Whew!

Arriving in Geneva, I got my Swiss Francs and made a reservation for Marseille later this month for I did not want to be left without much choice. The ticket guy said he didn't usually make reservations like this but since I had a Eurail pass and I was making a reservation so far ahead of time that he would. I guess most Eurail people try to get on a train the day of... Perhaps this was my problem in Paris, that usually the last minute Eurail pass holders requests are annoying so she put me on the worst train. This ticket guy was very nice and even got me on first class on a train that leaves midday. Then it'll be on to Marseille and holidays again!

Switzerland doesn't feel like a holiday at all. After doing all my train station errands I went to take the tram which was easy enough and went to my hostel which is ON the border of Switzerland and France. There is a TON of room for one person and very conducive for studying. I did some of that yesterday and then went to eat near the lake. It was good and I have to say that Paris still has the best ice cream. Swiss ice cream IS exceptionally good, but Parisian ice cream still has a quality that is superior.

I walked around a bit but I didn't take any pictures. I'll be here for quite a bit longer on the way back through so then will be more sightseeing. My impression of the few blocks I saw of Geneva is that this is where the people on the pages of glossy magazines come from. Not really my style. Paris is very European, true, and it can be terribly stylish, but there's a roughness, a poetic quality perhaps. Geneva is very European and very stylish, but clean and business-like. Meh.

This morning I have stayed on the French side. I got a chasson de pommes at the patisserie - an apple croissant - and two coffees at this cafe where I saw two bikers! They were big and wore some leather and were drinking at noon, but they were drinking rosé and had very nicely coiffed long grey hair.

And now I'm back in my room reading and writing and trying not to be intimidated by this coming week's studies. I feel it is somewhat proper to be staying on the border between here and there... In a no man's land. It is a rich space for thought. Or so I think.

I will post one more time from Saas-Fe letting you all know I arrived safely, but then I will only perhaps be posting sporadically until the 23rd of August where I will pick up where I left off, here in the borderlands.
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Taking a Break On the Walk Down From Sacre Cœur

The breeze is soft and warm as I walk back from a stop inside Sacre Cœur. I'm about to repack my bags again in preparation for my early train to Geneva. Then I'll take a shower in the tiny shower that too push a button and it sprays for twenty seconds and stops before getting to bed early enough to have some kind of consciousness as I travel tomorrow.

Today was mellow. I went to the graveyard and followed up with a big three course lunch. You can see the pictures on Flickr except for dessert which was two scoops of ice cream, one chocolate and the other vanilla. French ice cream is by far the best.

I'll be posting a couple more times until Sunday but I'll start again the last week of August!
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Morning in Montparnasse

The view is from my morning coffee near the one tall building in Paris proper. I took the Metro from the north of the city to the south so I can take a walk through the cemetery where Beckett, Beauvoir and Sartre's bones turn to dust.

Yesterday was a busy but uneventful day. When I woke I found that Pia, the still nameless Italian girl and I had gotten a new roommate in the night named Pablo. We all discussed our plans for the day, mine being the arduous task of finding the correct train station to depart from for Geneva and making a reservation. Pablo uses Eurail passes and offered to help me out. He went with me and we finally got to the right counter in the right train station but the woman (who did not speak one word of English) told me there were no reservations to be had. She finally found one at five in the morning that had a lay over in Lyon. I booked it and then had to figure out if it would be best to cancel my hostel for the night before and spend it in the train station or what, the issue being that the Metro doesn't start running at that time. After much deliberation, with the help of well-travelled Pablo, I've decided to keep the room so I can sleep a little and with the taxi stand near our hostel I can probably get one for cheap since there will be no traffic at that time.

Other than that fiasco, Pablo and I walked around the streets of Paris and the Pére Lachaise cemetery stopping at cafes to get reading done. It was nice to have a companion. He is a junior at Columbia University in advanced mathematics (Brian Green is his professor!) and we talked a lot about books and theory. It was also nice to talk with someone who lives in the US although he's originally from Mexico City.

At dusk we grabbed sandwiches and a bottle of wine to go meet Pia and her friends at the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower. I apologize for not having much time to post yesterday (yes, I'm just fine, Mom). I'll have more time when I get to Geneva, but I'm not sure how interesting they'll be, I still have a bit of work to do before school starts in a few days! I'm ready to settle in one place for three weeks, to move into a room and focus on why I'm here in Europe--to begin my Master's thesis!

And now I'm on my way to thank some of the progenitors of my interest, although they live much more through their writing than in their bones, I still want to pay my respects.
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View From a Paris Hostel

I'm not sure exactly what time it is but it seems I've got the room to myself for a bit. I'm not minding the company, it seems appropriate that there always seems to be something going on--very Paris. I just checked the time, I guess it is almost midnight here. My schedule has changed quite radically from the bed at ten regime.

Last night I wandered through the Latin quarter and back up to my hostel, thoroughly enjoying the beautiful night. As I was approaching the hostel I ran into my Australian roommate, Pia. She and her friend Leo were looking for fun so we went down to a discotheque in Pigalle. At first they told us twenty euro to get in but as we were turning around to go one of the bouncers said we could go ahead in. We all danced, but I might have danced a bit more in the elated state I was in. It was nice to enjoy a night out with people instead of alone. When we left at 3:30am the club was really starting to get crowded. It was interesting to see the Paris nightlife.

Perhaps needless to say, I woke a little later and took my time getting ready. By the time I headed out I decided to go straight to a croque monsieur across from Notre Dame. I got a bunch of reading done as I made way through a ham sandwich smothered in broiled, gooey cheese. Yum!

Since it was rainy I decided that I would go to Centre Georges Pompidou since I missed an entire floor last year. I got there about two or three and was there until 9:30! So much to say about it but the main things were that they changed things up and over half of the artists they showed in their permanent collection were women. This is quite amazing. Women artists are often sidelined and under represented. There was also a huge showing of Kandinsky's work. It was interesting to see his progression through life.

Afterwards I grabbed a salad near the museum, hot goat cheese on toast, greens and tomatoes. Both places I ate today were dim and it seemed conspicuous to flash my super bright flash to take a picture. More tomorrow I promise.

Now I'm back, hoping to sleep well, we'll see if my roommates wake me when they get in. Thankfully I have one of those eyepatch things...
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Holy *#!??@$+*

Another post so soon, and I haven't been talking a lot about my food. But I have to go off... I cannot contain myself. Tears came to my eyes as I ate and I thought of Erin when she cried the first time she tried foie gras here in Paris.

But I had something I love ordering anywhere, a niçoise salad. It was a religious experience. The butter lettuce was like sinking my teeth into the most delicate parchment, the tuna was like cake--sweet and soft. The potatoes tasted like golden sunshine and the peppers sparkled and burst, simply burst with fresh. Seriously though, the green beans were what brought tears to my eyes. A legitimate twinge at the corners if my eyes, me! who never leaks (unless it is something so consuming as my sister's wedding of course!). The beans were only blanched but they melted on my tongue, not unlike butter... But more so like meringue but made with cream, not egg white. And the anchovies! They were salty and not stinky at all... More like love poems from the sea.

Okay, okay... But still! Can you blame me? I'm in Paris, a place I didn't think I'd be so soon. There's coffee on every corner and a bookstore every two. And wine! My plan tonight is to find the Rue de la Huchette from -Hopscotch- yes, Erin, I'll see it. It comes from a passage in the novel by Julio Cortazar: (paraphrased or pretty close) Yes, but who will cure us of the dull fire, the colorless fire that runs along the Rue de la Huchette at night fall?

And so, enraptured, I go into the Parisian evening.
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Oui! Je Suis Ici!

Yes! I am here! This is the view from right around the corner of my hostel. (Yes, Wade, I climbed it again, the stairs to Sacre Cœur.) Right at this moment I am sitting on the stairs of Sacre Cœur listening to street performers and deciding where dinner will be.

This morning was uneventful. The flight was fine, I got some knitting done. I got the RER fine into the Gare du Nord and the Metro to where I was staying. I'm in Montmartre but I think I'll go to St. Germain for dinner.
I was unable to find a locker at the Gare du Nord, but the hostel seems quite safe. I have one roommate, a girl from Australia who seems quite friendly. It was a pain to lug the suitcases through the Metro, lucky for me a kind gentleman grabbed the big one and got me on the train just fine. He also carried it up and out of the Metro where I thanked him profusely and told him my friends were waiting and I didn't have a number in Paris. Mes amis m'attendent! The gentlemen here ask for attention but are not persistent. Thank god.

So now I sit and my stomach rumbles. To St. Germain!
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Continental Drift

I just finished repacking my suitcases for Paris. I'm hoping to secure a storage locker at the Gare du Nord (the north train station near where I'll be) so I don't have as much luggage to manage in the shared dorm. I sure hope the hostel I'll be staying at has clean towels because I don't see any way my big green beach towel is going to fit in my little suitcase. (By the by, bringing my own towel was a great idea... The towels in the hostel I'm at now are about the size of a postage stamp.)

Yes, it is time to move on, I only have one breakfast voucher left. Speaking of breakfast, this morning it was terrible! No sausages and no coffee! Eggs and what I would call Canadian bacon were good, but the tea tasted a bit like fish. When I asked the breakfast attendant where the coffee was she pointed to instant coffee packets. "I prefer this coffee, it is really good!" I didn't find out. I found out the tea they were offering tasted a little like socks.

After my caffeine-less (but still pretty good on the pork) breakfast I stopped by the post office on the way into the city. I sent some items of clothing back along with all my Dublin books and maps and other books I had finished. I had gotten out pretty early and it was interesting to see a Dublin neighborhood on a Saturday morning, there were women in fuzzy robes coming from the corner store and people in pajamas randomly. I think Loring Park should encourage this and downtown Minneapolis as well. No need to get dressed before noon on weekends.

After my errand was completed I went back to the Charles Beatty Library and finished looking around. Then I made my way though St. Stevens Green and then Merrion Park. I pride myself on always having lived within the vicinity of Loring Park and I hold it dear, but Merrion Park might just be my favorite. I spent a lot of time doing park things, like thinking.

The National Gallery was right across the street so I checked it out. I have so much I could say about my time there but I'll just list the highlights and these who are so inclined can Google the artist or the piece if you aren't quite sure why I nearly wet myself to be able to see these:
*Harry Clarke's illustrations of Hans Christian Andersen
*a great collection of Jack B. Yeats, especially his later works
*huge Danish painters collection which means a few things, not only was Rembrandt's The Flight to Egypt, but a great Vermeer - A Lady Writing a Letter, and of course a bunch of great vanitas
*Hieronymus Bosch, The Descent into Limbo
*a few good Goya portraits, but El Sueño was my favorite
Of course there is a ton more and I could go on about each and every one, but I'll save for in person with those I know I won't bore!

As I was sitting outside the museum wondering what to do next and feeling a little melancholy (for I think my kind of loneliness comes after I've been somewhere a bit--keep moving and I'll be fine)... So I was sitting and stewing a little when an old Irishman came up to me and took my hand and told me I was lovely. We exchanged a few words, Edward and I, before he kissed my cheek and ambled on. It was a greatly appreciated small comfort.

I ambled on after a bit to the National Library of Ireland to check out the Yeats exhibit. They have a lot of stuff. You know, this has nothing to do with my trip but I just remembered last semester when I was doing a presentation on Diderot's Encyclopédie, my class met in the Andersen Library across the way from the Robert Bly exhibit. Before another student was about to talk about Paradise Lost, the rare book curator's eyes got real big and he interrupted telling us, "This may sound weird, but Robert Bly is in the Robert Bly exhibit."

Now when I see exhibits like this Yeats one, I think about the actual honoree visiting it. I think my favorite document was the Questionnaire on Creative Effort he was given by some preeminent psychologist to fill out. It was one of those silly Q&As that ask something like "Do you always have to work for inspiration? Always... Usually... Sometimes... Never." Yeats, as you could imagine never circled one without comment.

Not much happened after my last museum stop. I went back to the hostel and began practicing my French. I should actually get going to get a good night's rest. Next time I'll post it'll be from the continent!
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Report From Marino

Two posts in one day! Not that either of them are terribly exciting. The picture shown here is the view from the window in the hall. You can see the city centre in the haze.

I think I have my route down pretty well. I walk from Marine down through the Summerhill neighborhood to get to the central part. Today I went to an Internet cafe to wrap up some schoolwork and chat with Dan. Then, since I was near, I ate lunch at the Queen of Tarts. I don't know if I mentioned it but that is where I had the brownie. I might eat there again tomorrow, if anything for dessert. It is the cutest little cafe on a side street near Christ Church Cathedral and it reminds me not only of Tina's (where I first started cooking professionally) but Spoonriver (the last kitchen I cooked in). I highly recommend it for anyone who ends up in Dublin.

After lunch I went to the Chester Beatty Library, which is pretty much a museum on books, but it has other artifacts as well. Chester Beatty was an American who traveled extensively and collected books and manuscripts from all over... He loved Dublin so much he was named an honorary Irish citizen in the 1950s and his collection resides here. Holy cats. I'm going back because I didn't get to all of it before it closed. The religion floor is full of remarkable books and items I had never seen the like of before in all my museum going. There had to have been about twenty or so papyrus pages from a codex of the gospels from 250 AD and a swatch of the book of John from 100 AD! That's not to mention all the rare illuminated Bibles and Korans. Wow. The illustrations from Persian and Iran on the lower level were incredible as well, it made me want to read Pamuk's -My Name Is Red- again.

On the way back I walked though Grafton Street, but again, I may return. Going up my usual way I had a lot of company for I go past the stadium and U2 is playing this evening. It was fun to see the pubs overflowing and everyone excited for the show.

Well, I'd better get going. I'm putting a fresh coat of red paint on my nails in preparation for Paris!
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The View from My Morning Bench

I meant to post a more general post about my travels thus far since yesterday was not as busy day, but my Internet service was down last night. But it is up and running today so here I am.

Each morning I have breakfast here in Marino and sit outside admiring the view. I never thought of Ireland as a particularly flowering place, but I have been constantly overtaken by beautiful flowers on every turn. Especially since I walk through a residential area each day to get to the city centre. The roses grow like hostas grow in the Midwest. They are everywhere. I've sent numerous pictures to my mother already!

It has actually been very nice, to email Mom each day and I encourage others to email me whenever as well. I get them immediately and am more likely than not able to respond right away. I've noticed there are one comments on the blog, thank you both Ron and Wade! But for some reason I can't enter my own comments in reply. I still urge you to leave comments, but I also welcome emails - it makes me feel still connected to hear my phone alert me to an incoming message!

I have two full days left in Dublin. Today will be my foray to Grafton and the very central part of Dublin. Tomorrow will be a repacking day and smaller walking day as I prepare for Paris. I may bring my sketchbook back to the National Botanic Gardens... We'll see. Hope all is well in the States!
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It Is "Lashing" Out, Again

As a woman nearby so aptly put, it is lashing out. Which is to say that it is pouring rain. I am waiting it out a bit in the cactus wing of the main glass house in the National Botanic Gardens. Having been in Dublin a couple of days I think it won't last long. I hope.

The National Botanic Gardens is incredible. I've taken a bunch of pictures so take a look. The gardens were established in 1795 by the Royal Dublin Society. The glass structures are amazing and remarkable considering how old they are. It makes my usual haunt of the Marjorie Bell Conservatory look like child's play.

Haven't done much else today since it turns out I walked across Dublin and back yesterday. I got a bunch of work done and rested my poor legs. I'm not as young as I used to be! To be fair though, I don't know many who could have faired very well on such a trek.

Well, as expected, the sun's out and shining bright now!
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A Good Day for a Lady-Nerd

Okay, so first, a lady-nerd is a term Dan coined for me and my girl friends and I know once I describe my day he'll agree it was a lady-nerd kind of day.

I did what is becoming routine this morning: wake-up, eat breakfast and walk into the city centre. Today's goal was to first go to the Irish Museum of Modern Art, but my Google directions led me nowhere since I was following "user created content." I found the appropriate address but it seemed so far away. So I went to the next place on my itinerary, one of the oldest libraries in Europe, but since they close at lunch I decided to go back to Lower Camden where there had been a ton of little eateries.

I was on the prowl for something more my taste since last night's chicken and gravy on fries--I mean chicken curry--(you can see the pics on Flickr) left me wanting. I found a great lunch at... Shoot, I forgot the name but I think I'll be back... Anyway I had a lamb steak with a mint cream sauce, sautéed sweet potatoes and ratatouille for only €10. I would have taken a photo but it was dim and I didn't want to draw attention to myself. So good.

Afterward, with renewed spirits I decided to take the hike to the museum. I found some great streets along the way like Francis Street which is the antiques and tiny art gallery street. I'll go back there... I didn't take any pictures there because my battery was getting to the halfway point.

Same with the museum which is kind of hidden away. They had a Terry Winter's show that was very good. They displayed many of his sketches which were awesome. I also saw a great Ann Hamilton and a typical but still good Kiki Smith.

Then back to Marsh Library which is through a little archway behind St. Patrick's Cathedral. I highly suggest looking it up to read more about it, I'd include more now but I'm keeping an eye on my battery power. At the top of the stairs is a big door and a little bell to ring. Once I rang, a little Irishman peeked out and asked, "Would you like to visit?" His tone was of pure curiosity, as if once I was presented with the choice there was a possibility I might not want to. "Absolutely!" I responded, I couldn't wait! There was a few people who rang after me who said "no." I think they were from Ohio (the doorman asks everyone where they come from)... Even after he offered them a discounted rate of €1 they turned around and left. Right after them, however, was a mother and three little boys chomping at the bit to see books with chains and the skull. (The skull is from the head of Stella, Jonathan Swift's longtime 'friend'.) In the back of the library are the cages where scholars were locked in with books (um, where can I get in that line?). But after looking at the titles I can see why they had to look scholars in: Commons Journals, State Trials, British Statutes.... Blah!

Actually, the postcard in the picture is of the over 300 year old library (no photos inside) and the rest, well the brownie disappeared a few paragraphs ago and the coffee is getting cold. I'm on my way to Christ Church Cathedral to check out the choir before I head back to home base...
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Afternoon Coffee on the Liffey

You may not be able to see it in the picture, but what it says on the buildings from left to right is "Heineken," "Royal Liver Insurance," and "Guinness." Ha. I am quite literally sitting on the Liffey River, I can see the water between the slats of Bachelor's Walk.

Last afternoon/evening I walked the other way down Griffith Avenue and down Drumcondra. I realized I had gotten nearly to the city centre and that with my already in place walking habits that I may not need a bus pass at all. I dined at The Cat & Cage (you can see the meal on my Flickr page) and went back to my room for a good night's sleep.

This morning I enjoyed the free breakfast of which I chose eggs, sausage and baked tomato. It was very good, especially the sausage, and it has been keeping me going all day.

It was drizzling when I left, but I felt very smart for bringing my own umbrella. Little did I know that it doesn't matter if you have an umbrella in Dublin, I was soaked from my waist down. I warmed up and dried off in a cafe before heading in the direction of the Trinity College Library, which unfortunately would not let me find a corner to camp out in. Instead they directed me to the public library.

Thankfully by this time the rain had stopped and it actually had become quite warm. My drying continued as I made my way from the quaint book store ridden neighborhood to the bustling O'Connell Street. I found the mall in which the library was said to be and noted that Dublin's Public Library is very much like Minneapolis' public libraries (with the exception of my haven, the Central Library). It was stinky and sweaty and small and full of loafers. Bah. I figured I'd rather do my reading somewhere else and left.

I still haven't found a great place although on the way out of the shopping area I did find a pair of black jeans for €13! And a black and white striped T-shirt for €4! By the by, for all my fashion conscious friends, it is all about the LONG sweater or vest. LONG. And skinny jeans, of course. And flats still.

So now I sit, still on the search for a quiet reading place (and loving all the distractions). Just deciding now whether to scope out some dinner here or on the way back to my room (since I do have to get work done today). Hope all is going well at all your respective homes!

BSH
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This Photo Can Only Mean One Thing...

...they DO have good coffee in Dublin.

I would include a better photo of where I'm at but honestly the only thing I can focus on right now is this espresso. Keep an eye on my Flickr photos on the right for more impressive pictures.

I arrived safe and sound. I hung around the airport for awhile, it was pretty chill. Not like when I flew into London last year. I made sure my phone worked and my bank account. All's good. In fact, my phone sent me a greeting from Ireland welcoming me to Dublin.

Speaking of friendly, Minnesota "Nice" has NOTHING on Dublin and the kind people I've come across already. First off, my taxi driver was a spitting image of that actor from "Shawn of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz.". A twin, I swear! It was very appropriate. He had a globe on his dash where he had me point out where I came from. Then he was driving about 20 miles per hour as he was showing me photos he took that morning off Howth Summit as well as writing down good places to go. He told me about some great bars for "indie rock, none of that Shana Twain stuff. Achy breaky heart and all that." Along with that advice he said cabs were good to take at night but to pretend to use my phone when I get in and say something like "yeah, I just got in the cab, I'll be home in a few minutes."

When I got to the hostel the concierge was immensely friendly and in no time I was telling him about how my best girlfriends have Irish blood (last names being Guiney and Donelan) and how I almost didn't come to Dublin. He confided that the Italian and Spanish students staying there (it is part of a school) were rather boisterous but that he liked the way the Americans from Alabama sounded. He also gave me good advice about staying safe on my own but said I shouldn't be too worried since I look Irish enough. I take it as quite the compliment!

Then my luggage was taken behind the desk and I was sent away to explore since my room will be ready in a few hours. So here I am in cafe listening to Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" and Abba's "Dancing Queen." I'm not sure what exactly I'll do today. Perhaps get a bus pass although just walking is quite the experience. I keep thinking the cars are going ti crash since they seem to be driving into oncoming traffic!

BSH
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Gone Gone Gone

I often wonder about what constitutes a day. There are all sorts of days: 'normal' days, days of rest, busy days, birthdays, holidays... All these ways to frame a particular increment of time. I am always fascinated by Travel Days. They are never really counted as part of a vacation or trip, but neither are they any sort of relatively normal day whatsoever.

My Travel Day today consisted of breakfast at Victor's Cuban Cafe and waiting in the MSP airport before flying to New Jersey where I sit and wait again to sit on a plane for seven or eight hours until we reach Dublin.

There is nothing day-like about a Travel Day. Airports are odd no-zones, perpetual purgatories. As far as I'm concerned a Travel Day is when I must sacrifice one day of my life to become part of a big breathing stream of people subject to all sorts of alien prodding and shepherding. But somehow I feel that the sacrifice is necessary... Going to Dublin effortlessly and individually doesn't seem like it would be real. Like receiving x-ray goggles that worked from a mail order. No, the hard work must be done. The feet must swell, the ears pop, the eyes dry, the mind fry on the most mindless airport telecast.

The Newark airport is clean though, and I have a seat to wait for another hour. I have NyQuil to help me sleep so that I can wake up and have breakfast in Dublin. I wonder if they have good coffee?
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Official First Post

Okay, I think I have all the kinks worked out so that I can update this blog from my phone. In some areas I may not have Internet coverage and won't be able to post. I'm not sure yet how often I will be able to check my comments, but there may be a way for me to get them through my email.
Other than that, I'm hoping to update daily when I'm not in seminars. I think I've rigged it so that I can take a picture of wherever I happen to be and include it at the top of my post. For more photos I will upload to Flickr; you can see some of them to the right - if you click on that it should lead you to my Flick page.
Where I happen to be right now is in Loring Park, my backyard. It is windy as all heck and the cattails are furiously bending and waving. It has been nice and cool in Minneapolis, only one of things that makes it hard to leave. I'm not even sure how to go about imagining being out of this country for two months. But while I'll miss my home, I'm thrilled for my new adventures. I hope it isn't too difficult to keep them updated here!
BSH
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More than one pic test

Birthday pics.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Picture Test

This is home.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Another Test

Okay. Testing out my mobile capabilities.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

First Post

Trying to get everything up and running so that I can update this piece of virtual space from my phone! Countdown to leaving: 12 days.