Home

Whew - been home for a few days and needed to close this blog out! Our tour through Germany was amazing - Arthur in Cologne was so cool, and Laure/Sacha in Berlin were incredible. What a wonderful time...it all just feels like a dream.

Back in the States now and looking forward to the big Independence Day celebration going on at my house. Farewell Europe. The trip was life-changing.

Utrecht

Ah what a great place! We're here in Utrecht, and have been here for a few days. Elizabeth found 3 couches for us in the lounge of her dorm, so that's been our home for now. Quite fitting if you ask me =) It reminds me of Stout.

The first night we were here they opened the student bar for us and we had an incredible night! We stayed at the bar for a bit and then went back to the house of one of the "Chiefs" (RAs), who was also one of Liz's friends. There we stayed until about 4AM when we came home and crashed in our humble little room.

The days since have been filled with daily missions to get groceries and enjoy Utrecht. We've walked down to the center and had a couple of nice days around town. Next we're thinking about going to the national park nearby and biking around.

Cheers!

Overveen

Alright so let's see where we left off.

After our last wonderful night in Belgium, wherein we sat for hours and hours drinking good beer with great friends at a place quite similar to the Stonewall, we said goodbye. Jasper, Karen, and all of the exceptional people that we met have made quite an impact on me. It's so refreshing to truly see that genuine, caring humans exist everywhere in the world.

Two days ago we arrived in Amsterdam and met our next host, Jelle. And he is yet ANOTHER amazing host. He lives in a...kind of warehouse - but it's nothing short of cozy. We spent the first night with he and his friends at the house, and since then have met various other friends, gone to the Sub Focus show, and relaxed on the beach. The friends were, as you would expect, great people. The show was a blast, and the beach was especially pleasant!

I'll have to elaborate in person. One more day in Amsterdam and then to Utrecht.

Spektrum XL 13

It's official. We've got tickets.

Poster:
Here

Past Shows:
Here
Here

Cheers.

Rainy Gent Evening

Nothing could be better. I've got a warm pot of pasta and bolognese sauce in my lap, and I'm listening to all 4 "What Does Your Soul Look Like" chapters while enjoying the gentle thunder and light rain outside. I just purchased Pre-Emptive Strike on vinyl and so the sound is undeniably warm and smooth. I really, really under-appreciated the album when I was younger. Jonathan, you are right, this album is nearly perfection.

Jasper is doing a bit of work in the living room, and unfortunately Brian and Shannon are at the laundromat. Hopefully there is a break in the rain when they can make it home safe and dry. I will say a prayer =)

It's so nice to be here.

Oh and to top it off, I think that we are going to watch Princess Mononoke when Brian and Shannon return!!!!!!!!!!!!

Quick Update

Just a quick one this morning. We've spent the last few days with Jasper, doing pub crawls in Gent and then travelling with him to Ostend. We're right by the North Sea right now and the air is quite clear. It's wonderful here!

We're going back to Gent now, and stopping through Bruges on our way. Then we'll head to Netherlands, to Haarlem and Amsterdam. Haarlem is where a big drum n bass show is on June 13th, so we're going to try our hardest to make it there. The hold up now is finding a place to stay, but messages have gone out. Now all we can do is wait and hope that somebody will have us.

Sorry this can't be more elaborate! Big day today.

Belgium

I have a strange feeling that I died in Paris.

Let me expound on this theory.

Last night we met two angels, one named Jasper, and one named Karen. With open arms Jasper greeted us at the train station and immediately took us to a shop with more beer than one man could ever drink. He filled a crate with a brilliant selection and then led us to a flat where there were three spare beds. The flat has tons of room, a turntable, a multitude of records, chocolate, pastries, and warmth. We dropped our packs here and then went to the corner for Belgian fries. This is really when my current theory started developing. We were treated to a giant plate of fries and various meats, which was perhaps the most satisfying meal possible for our empty stomachs.

After the fries we went down to a pub to wash it all down. The streets of Ghent presented us with mind-blowing architecture and friendly faces. A plethora of early-late medieval architecture surrounded us, and a huge castle glowed on the horizon. The first pub led to a second, and a third, and pretty soon we found ourselves on Jasper's "pub tour," a blessed pilgrimage. Karen and Jasper led us from one pub to the next, each with its own delightful character and specialty beers. We spent hours savoring one beer after the other while conversing with two of the kindest souls that I will ever have the pleasure of knowing.

At one of the last taverns we got a special treat - jenevere, a special fruit-based alcohol. Every flavor imaginable was on the list. We opted for strawberry, raspberry, apricot, blood orange, and chocolate. All were delicious, and the old, round bartender served them with a smile.

The night was unforgettable. And the strangest thing is that I woke up this morning and the flat, Jasper, the chocolate, the beer, and everything else is still here. This means I wasn't dreaming and that either I am now in heaven or my life just got unbelievably good. I still can't decide.

Back in Paris

We do indeed have internet now that we're back in Paris, so I thought I'd give a bit of an update.

Rome was a good time. We got in, saw all of the sites, and got out. The first day that we arrived we took a bus to Colosseo and saw the Colliseum, and then wandered around all of Rome, seeing most of the artifacts, and eventually landed at the Pantheon. This was not intentional - more or less, we were lost. But, this uncertain path just happened to lead us by all of the important sites in Rome. So, we saw it all. The statues, the buildings - all of the ancient architecture. This part of Rome is incredible. To think that some of these buildings were constructed over one thousand years ago is just unbelievable. I doubt that our current mastery of architecture could come close to the grandeur that the ancients produced.

We had originally intended to only spend a day in Rome, but our train back to Paris was full, so we had to stay another night. We stayed both nights in a hostel run by what must have been the most laid back man alive. Anytime we saw him he looked as though he had just woken up, and his speech ran together as if he was constantly on opium. Regardless, we met some amazing people in the "Enjoy Hostel" and walked the streets of Rome with them. Katie, Karmello, the Bulgarian, and a few girls from Missouri were the highlights, and we really enjoyed their company. Karmello was especially unique because he didn't actually stay in the hostel, but in the 5th floor of the building that the hostel was in, basically in the rafters. He had 180 Euro for 22 days. Incredible.

So with the extra time we were able to better explore the Vatican, and Katie from Vancouver Island joined us. We saw the Sistine Chapel, St. Pieter's Basilica, and everything in between. It was insane - just ridiculously elaborate and completely beautiful.

But, in the end, Rome was actually very dirty, and the traffic was ridiculous. It's great to have ancient monuments scattered around a real city, but the city just overwhelmed everything. The constant buzz of traffic mixed with an infinity of tourist shops and graffiti made the Rome experience expensive and occassionally unpleasant. The buses were irregular too. Don't get me wrong, Rome is worth the visit, but without a ton of Euro, it loses its appeal very quickly. We were happy to leave.

So we came back to Paris and had another wonderful lunch of baguette, cheese, salami, and wine. This time I found a 2008 batch being sold for 2 euro a piece, so I bought two bottles. I was supposed to be off searching for a market, but Nicholas and two bottles of wine seemed much more important. Brian and Shannon found the market after I returned and spent a triumphant 5 euro on lunch. Great! We can live for much less in Paris...which is weird, considering the stereotype. We probably spend half as much money in Paris as we do in Rome.

Anyway, we visited Notre Dame and met up with Jenny (sp?), a friend of Brian and Shannon's who was involved in a foreign exchange program to Lindsay high school. She was so kind to us. She took us to an amazing brewery/restaurant in the Bercy district (The Frog) and took care of us. Brian and I shared a pitcher of Dark de Triumphe and the ladies had cocktails. It was happy hour so all was well. We then ate the cheapest food we could find - Chinese. It was comforting. If there's one kind of food that is consistent across the board, it's Chinese. Marvelous.

So now here I am in a hotel that Jenny graciously booked for us so that we didn't have to stay on the street. I just drank most of the second bottle of wine that I bought for today. What a great night. Tomorrow we hopefully end up in Belgium. Chocolate and beer...this is paradise!

Thrumming man, thrumming.

Good Times in Paris

Get up! Get up! Get up! Get up!

Brian's voice was distant, yet as I awoke from my sleep I was in a dead sprint, and soaking wet...

It all started the day after we arrived in Paris. After the wonderful night of smoking and conversation with Philip at Julien's apartment we had all become quite good friends. We found out that Philip was from Quebec, and consequently quite fluent in French, so that was very nice. Anyway, we woke up that morning a bit later than expected, and were planning on booking a night train for Rome. We rolled out of bed and got ready, walked to the metro station, and began our trip to the big train station (Gare de Bercy).

Halfway through our metro ride, everything stopped. The locals were painted with expressions of a strange humor-anger mix, as if this kind of thing happened more often than it should. A french voice came over the speaker and the train emptied. We looked curiously at Philip, who told us that a suspicious package had been a few stops ahead of ours, and the metro was shutting down in case it was a bomb. So much for that train.

So, while waiting for the metro to start back up, we left the underground and decided to explore Paris. Luckily, we got stopped right by the Seine, and a beautiful park in downtown Paris. As we wandered, we found a cheap wine shop that Julien had spoken to us about and stopped in for a bottle to share during lunch. We stopped by and bought a 4-euro bottle of wine, much to the chagrin of the clerk. We then found a market, bought some bread, cheese, and a bit of meat (our subsistence in Paris), and sat by the Seine to enjoy a wonderful Parisian lunch.

The food was outstanding on our empty stomachs, and as we watched the river and drank wine, music drifted from the tunnel a few steps away. A man was playing old American tunes in an elaborate one-man-band fashion, featuring accordion, trumpet, kick drum, and others. A beggar walked up and asked for some food, which we obviously had. Brian gave her a piece of meat, and at her insistence, a bit of baguette. Wisely, he knew that this kind of toll is necessary for good karma. As the night unfolded, we realized that it had worked.

We went to the station and were unable to book our night train. "Full" is all that the attendant said. With the help of Philip's French, we booked an overnight the next night which arrived in Milan at 5AM and then left for Rome at 7AM. This was good news, but it came with bad news. We had no place to stay. Julien was leaving town and so we were stuck. Realizing this, we bought more wine.

Our plan quickly became to stay up all night with Philip, wander the streets of Paris, drink wine and beer, and fool our bodies into thinking that this was ok. Everyone agreed that this was the best option, and personally, I was thrilled. A night like this was sure to be incredible.

Having decided our night plans, we headed to the Louvre which is beyond explanation. The structure is so massive. You can't stand on the lawn in front of the museum and see the whole thing. Once inside, it's worse. We saw the Greek/Roman/Egyptian exhibit, along with the Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo, and we maybe, MAYBE scratched the surface. It's extensive - simply unbelievable.

Once we left the Louvre, our stomachs were hungry, and so we decided to have a banquet. We bought the usual bread/cheese/meat, but also supplemented it with salad (lettuce and pasta variety) and potato chips. Oh, and 3 more bottles of wine, as well as 10 cute bottles of Kronenberg. If we were going to stay up all night, we needed fuel.

We returned to the Louvre to find huge groups of people all over the lawn, doing the same things that we were doing. We had a wonderful meal right in front of the Louvre. The scene could not have been more beautiful. French and English mingled into the night, and we drank until we felt quite pleasant. All this time, the top of the Eiffel tower called to us. After each drink we would catch it in the corner of our eye and talk about how the journey there would take up a lot of time. We mingled with the locals and were proper tipsy at this point, and so boldy set out to find the Tower.

I would say we walked but it was probably more of a stumble. Half-way through the walk Philip taught us a Quebecoise drinking song. His method of teaching went something like this: I will scream this song as loud as I can, and eventually these Americans will learn it. But we never did. We knew the first line, and substituted the consequent lines with bad French and meaningless sounds. Philip was pleased. On the way to the Tower we found the only market still open and bought more beer, as well as some tobacco. This find raised morale to the point of pure bliss. We were stumbling through the narrow Paris streets, enjoying beautiful weather, all the time staring at the tip of the Eifel Tower, our Holy Grail.

We arrived at the tower and quickly dispersed throughout the shrubbery surrounding the monument to relieve ourselves. In the process, two unopened beers were discovered, and this caused a beautiful riot among our tiny group. We sat under the Eiffel Tower, staring up at the blinking and flashing lights, drinking beer and having smokes. This was paradise. The Tower itself is much more beautiful and elaborate than I expected, and so I was completely blown away. I think we all were.

The Tower started blinking eratically and we ran to the side in order to see it in all of its glory. Unknowingly, we stumbled onto a large group of locals enjoying the tower, and whiskey. We were ecstatic. We began to mingle and talk and laugh and cross language barriers. Often I was speaking more with my hands than anything else, using Philip when necessary, though his drunk Quebecoise French was getting harder and harder to understand. They shared their whiskey with us. Soon we found ourselves in the midst of some freestyle French rapping, and we danced and danced and danced. With Brian's iPod we sung them "Last Trumpet," which they immediately grooved to. That night I remember hearing "Land of ZZ Top, land of ZZ top" constantly. This is how they knew Oklahoma. What a unique representation our little state has =)

Having talked to friends for hours, it was now about 4:30 AM. We had danced and laughed for hours, and decided to head back "home," which turned out to be the Louvre...for whatever reason. Anyway, we walked back through those narrow Paris streets, and this time the stumble was legitimate. But god we were so happy. It took us much longer than it should have to get to the Louvre, a journey which featured much drunken yelling, but we made it. The sun began to rise as we got on the lawn. We noticed others crashing there, and as we were bedding down the sprinklers came on and they had to run. Taking ourselves to be wiser than them, we layed down right next to the main sidewalk, an area which seemed to be sprinker-free. Quickly, however, security came over and shuffled us off. We hopped the nearest hedge and allowed our bodies to collapse, wearing smiles that can only come from a drunken night next to the Eiffel tower, with incredible people in Paris.

So that's where this all started. Brian began yelling and Shannon, Philip and I were running before we had woken up. A good thirty minutes was about the extent of our sleep on the lawn. Now that we were up, we decided to find a nice French cafe to get our day started with some coffee. We wandered for an hour and quickly realized that the French are not in a hurry to wake up. Fortunately, though, we did find a cafe, and shuffled in to warm up and dry off.

Talk about a group of people that don't belong in a Paris cafe...I'm sure you can imagine. Regardless, we ordered the cheapest bread and cheapest coffee, and were presented with the smallest bread and smallest coffees, as well as 4 waters. We talked about the night and laughed about what an amazing time it had been, and then received our check, on which we were charged 7 euro for the water. We yelled for a bit, and eventually the only charged us or 2. We took it.

From the cafe, we wandered back to the park that we had discovered the day before, and realized that it opened at 8AM. We waited about 15 mins and the gates opened. We stumbled in, found some incredible reclining chairs by a fountain, and crashed with the morning sun shining down on us.

Maybe we looked homeless, or maybe Americans are too judgmental, but either way, when I awoke Brian explained that a few Americans had walked by and said the following:

"Look at those homeless people. How disgusting. Let's come back and take pictures later."

What they didn't know was that Brian was not actually asleep, and had one eye on them as they said it. With what must have been his last ounce of effort, he raised his fist, one finger piercing the air, and valiantly explained to them that they were out of line. They didn't come back for that picture.

We got a few hours in the park, got our packs from Julien's, caught our train, said goodbye to our now-close friend Philip (who we hope to meet in a week in the Netherlands) and are now in a pub in Rome. We've seen all the sights here and it's just fascinating. More on that later. We're heading to Paris tomorrow and hopefully we will have internet there.

Ciao!

4 AM, Paris

We just stood in front of a big apartment window smoking cloves and talking to our new friend, and fellow couch surfer, Philip. We're all staying with a kind man named Julien. For now, what I know of Paris is the distant Eifel tower, great company, and smoke drifting with the breeze.

I don't know that it could get better.

Found Couch!

Will be staying with a guy named Julien in Paris. Cheers to that!

Paris

We're packing up this morning at the Five Elements hostel after a night of drinking and football (Man United vs. Barcelona) with our hostel-mates. Yesterday we went to the train station and reserved 3 seats on the Frankfurt - Paris train, so we are headed that way today. The train leaves at 7 PM and arrives at 11PM. We still don't have any place to stay, so hopefully that will work itself out!

Salut!

Here

Sitting at the Five Elements Hostel in Frankfurt. The flight was long, but not too bad. I think Brian was the only one to actually get some sleep. I'm a bit more picky! But regardless, we flew through the night and found ourselves facing a brand new day here. It's about 3AM in Oklahoma, but 9 AM here. Cheers to that!

When we got off of the train the weather was just incredible. The city is great! Tons of bikes. Lots of tall buildings straddling the little streets. We're about to go explore!

I'll update as much as I can. The language barrier gets pretty interesting sometimes =)

What to Take

It's amazing how rich and rewarding something as simple as packing a bag can be. Here I am in Stillwater, OK., staring at a floor scattered with clothes, maps, books, toothpaste, and an assortment of other things. These things will define me over the next month. Language is perhaps the most defining means we have to express ourselves. I can explain how I am feeling, justify my actions, describe emotional states, and so on. I can tell you WHY I did this or WHY I am feeling this, and in this way you gain a better grasp of "who" I am. This is why I so desire meaningful conversation - it is a sharing of oneself with another.

And it is this desire of mine which will be stripped from me. This beautiful means by which one person may connect with another will be gone. I have a feeling that I will be talking to myself often, if only for a taste of language - one of many necessary steps toward insanity before I can truly call myself a philosopher.

So here on this brown tile floor sits the means by which I will connect with the world. I pick up various pairs of jeans, investigate them, and inquire into the kinds of impressions that they might make upon others. I look at each shirt carefully - should I wear anything with English text on it? Should I stick to dark colors? Should I choose comfort or conformity? Each bit of cotton passes through my hands and back into the closet, completely unaware of the power that I have now ascribed to it. For the first time in my life, I truly understand those that seek to define themselves with their wardrobe. I might wear the scrappy undershirt here in the states, but now I'm holding myself to a higher standard. After all, I want people to like me.

I am packing as light as possible, and it is looking as though I can get everything I need within a pack conforming to "carry-on" size. This would be ideal, and it looks promising.

There are two books which crown the pile of necessities, books which I have carefully chosen for this kind of trip. The first is "The Dharma Bums" by Jack Kerouac. I've heard incredible things, and I know that I will be able to relate and gain inspiration from Kerouac's travels. The second is "My Ishmael," a sequel to Daniel Quinn's life-changing "Ishmael." I can't think of another book that shook me so violently to my core. I hope to receive a second shaking. I need one.

I'm taking a journal which I will use when I do not have access to a computer, or when the details are too grotesque and explicit to relay here (joking). I also have the Let's Go guidebook which I have ripped apart, keeping only the relevant information attached to the spine.

In 48 hours I will be flying over Europe, with these things on my floor quickly turning into my livelihood. I'll sure miss the intimate conversations...

Beginnings...

It's Saturday night and I'm beginning to feel excited - 3:20 AM - I can't quite get to sleep. I decided to create this blog in order to make use of my restlessness. Much is running through my head, and the journey to Europe is surprisingly not on the top of that list.

Hopefully I'll get up at a decent hour and get to OKC to visit Nathan. If there's one guy who knows Western Europe, it's Nathan. I should be able to learn much from his travels, though something tells me that the extent of his advice involves beer and stumbling. Surely such wisdom must be placed on the shelf next to the Bible and Chuang-Tzu. Each claim to bring a change of perception and true bliss - and so far one has been more consistent than the others, even if its effects are only temporary...

I'm ready to get away for a while. I'm not unhappy - just scattered. Very scattered. I know it has been a long school year, but most of the time I feel as if it passed as quickly as it began. Sometimes I wish it would never have ended. Regardless, it is time to leave these things where they sit, and to turn my focus to the hostel sheets which gently cradle a new perspective.