steps in Cesky Krumlov

IMGP4820, originally uploaded by smoooch.

One of those situations where you wander into an run down or abandoned building and you're clearly in a place you shouldn't be but it gets you some great shot and then you quickly get out. That's where I got this.

the in and the out

The outside, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Right. Remember this lovely post, when I first saw this window and knocked on the door and politely explained my purpose in Brussels and graciously asked the nice blond woman if I could see the inside and she pretty much said no. Well, I went back. And the spanish construction worker doing some reno work on the apartment let me in to see the other side of the windows. Here it is.

The inside, originally uploaded by smoooch.
I wonder how the snobby blonde woman would react if she knew??

not mine but I think it's very cool

twenty and forty, originally uploaded by ◄Kentigern►.

I am a passenger.

The muffled sound of music can be heard. Just audible, drum beats and bass clap their hands in the invisible air. The tiny white ear buds are instantly recognized. A member of the Ipod army. She sits down next to me on the bus. Grey pant suit noticed as I glanced quickly at the filled space next to me. The bus is sweaty with condensation from the breath of so many riders and the rain falling outside. Umbrellas dripping moisture onto paper shopping bags. Manicured nails clutch the tan leather handbag that almost passed as quality, but there's something secretly cheap about mass manufactured goods to appeal to the gleam of high fashion magazine ad admirers. She wears a fitted grey wool coat, blond hair hitting it softly at the shoulders. I glance at her face. Her make up is neither subtle or heavy but almost seems like a toned down version of a garish night out. She looks like a legal assistant with a dark secret. The aroma of music wafts between us and I ponder if she listens to anything else other than heavy metal.

Little Lamb

Little Lamb, originally uploaded by smoooch.

The collection.

The collection of photos from the little European Holiday.

If you love something let me know. And of course...

Prints are available.

You can contact me at justajill@lush.com.

Having lunch with Jacques Cousteau.

"The World's First All-glass Undersea Restaurant opens in The Maldives. April 15 marks the day that the first ever all-glass
undersea restaurant in the world opens its doors for business at the Hilton Maldives Resort & Spa. It will sit five meters below the waves of the Indian Ocean, surrounded by a vibrant coral reef and encased in clear acrylic offering diners 270-degrees of panoramic underwater views."

Wow. The Ithaa is a highly exclusive affair for only 15 people at a time.Can you imagine having dinner in an underwater acrylic tube? Going to the bathroom must be surreal. Would it have the same stunning views as you did your business with a local school of fish travelling by? Flushing?? Or how about having a plate of freshly caught snapper as a gaggle of them drift by?

I have to admit it's really stunning and enticing and I'm surprised it hasn't opened sooner. We have the option of living in a hotel entirely made of ice so why not a restaurant underwater. I have one curious question though.. do they have submarine sandwiches on the menu??

Very cool, either way. Thanks to Sonia for the tip.

Mona Lisa has a moon.

IMGP5876, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Captured in Bristol.

decoration

IMGP5595, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Beautiful ornamentation like this is commonplace above the doorways and buildings of the remaining Art Nouveau houses and buildings in Brussels. It was nearly impossible to photograph most of it that could really capture the quality and presence, but I did get this one.

Art Nouveau architects undertook every aspect of a buildings design, down to the doorknobs, air vents, foot scrapers and letterboxes, which was a good thing for me as I photographed those quite a bit better. But not only did Art Nouveau affect building design but also furniture, fixtures, carpets, even kitchen utensils. The poster arts were another area influenced by Art Nouveau, as seen in the work by Mucha. Decoration was obviously an important aspect of this period of art, often including stained glass, mosaics or sgraffito that I photographed above. Inspiration from the designs came from the natural world, flowing lines, organic forms, including Victor Horta's famous whiplash movement.

get the hint

get the hint, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I saw this walking down a back lane in Bristol.

sweet

I came home to find a card from my loving sister Catherine.

"Sometimes 'right back where you started from' is right where you belong."
Welcome back from your adventure.

Thanks Catherine. It was really really nice to come home to that card. It all seems a bit hazy and surreal to be back home.

Just call me

Jet lagged Jill.

I flew 10 hours into sunlight. I left Heathrow at 12:30pm local and arrived at 2:30 pm local, except I spent 10 hours someone in space. Michael, the dear, took me out for a rather posh Curry restaurant and tried to keep me up as long as possible. I got up at 4:30 am, which considering it's equivalent time zone in Europe (12:30pm) that's a pretty good lie in. Ruby slept right next to me the whole night unlike sleeping on her little spot closer to the wall. So nice to be welcomed back.

I just hope no one minds that I'm doing laundry and cleaning up

one que after another

That's what airports are. One long line after another. If you're not in line for security, you're in line to try and get rid of the last of your foreign money. Heathrow is one of the world's busiest airports and yet I managed to run into someone I knew. Off in the distance I could hear, "Hi Jill." Like a distant echo, it repeated. Vaguely familiar, never associated with myself until someone grabbed my arm and the words made their way through the layers of protective strategies to block out the many many sounds around me. We ended up taking the same flight but I didn't see her again until 9 hours into attempts to entertain myself resulted in a wander around the strange creature hurtling us though the upper atmospheres of travel. I was standing in another que, this one for a bathroom when I saw her sitting a few rows back, and waved.

I'm home. Clothes which I now resent strewn around the floor. Gifts and parcels long ago bought unpacked and Ruby petted, the boyfriend revisited.

xoxo
Jill

on my home

I photographed 3 Banksy's today while on a really great walk around town with Michael's younger sister victoria. Later I met his older sister, Trish. They are clearly both very fond of Michael. His whole family is really really nice, and I'm very fortunate to have the opportunity to have met them.

It's been a really fantatsic ending to my whole trip.

xoxo
Jill

Ps.. see you when I get home...

Brasserie

Brasserie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

A favorite, snapped in Paris.

Bristol

Yesterday I arrived by train to Bristol to spend my last days in England with Michael's sister Victoria and her husband Martin and the enchanting 4 year old Katherine.

Today, Katherine stood on a chair in the kitchen and in an exasperated voice, exclaimed to her mother, "but I caaannnnn'tttt wait not another moment for my breakfast." Oddly, it was reminiscent of of Michael saying, "But I can't wait another moment, I'm going to expire immediately if I don't have a coffee."

Mnn...genetics.

Later, we'll go into town and I'll have a chance to photograph 2 Banksy's that are here. Ironically, Banksy is originally from |Bristol, but I don't think I'll have time to find all the peices he has here.

But I know of this one and this one.

So a bit of graffiti and a bit of the fella's family. A really nice ending to a pretty fantastic trip.

xoxo
jill

tick tock

I can't believe my trip is nearly over. Depending on the moment it seems like I have been away for along time or sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday. Travelling with 2 changes of clothes in a backpack is a funny endevor to take on. In the midst of it, it can suck. You get dirty. Your clothes are smelly slept in creatures. You sleep in rooms with people who snore loudly or smell funny or won't cease the ongoing party or they get up dreafully early and slam door and zip and unzip bags without mercy for your slumbering ears. When you travel alone, you suffer through navigating foreign languages in dingy bus and train stations. It seems as though the whole world can see that you are alone and vulnerable and confused. And especially the scary people definitly know this, or at least that's what you tell yourself.

In order to travel one must inevitable transport oneself from one place to another. It's a dreadful to take this on.

"Bonjour, je n'parle pas francais. Tu parle anglais?"

Then you mangle your way through a conversation hoping that you are booking the right room for the right day and the right ticket going to the right place and you understand the time and where to get the bus. You need to navigate phone numbers 20 didgits long and try and get directions to that far away room in a dorm and hopefully arrive there safe all with not loosing your camera, bag, money or mind. Of course you need to repeat this for everything you do, from getting directions or following a map for the laundrette, grocery store, or anything else you want to see or need. And you walk and walk and walk. If you get on that bus, do you know where it's going?? How will you get back if you get too far?? Taxi's are not an option when you shoestring it around.

I think it many ways its better to do this alone. I would be much more distracted by another person to keep a watchful eye on all my belongings. I would get careless and compacent with another person travelling with me. There is a sense of security provided by another person and it's not reliable in the times you may need it the most. True, whn your lost at that distant tram station, with the sun setting quickly, it's less scary with your friend there, but when your both laughing in a relaxed moment and then next thing you know, you've dropped your wallet somewhere.. well then its not so great.

Poole has been really lovely. The weather has continued to be warm and lovely and sunny. Every Tuesday night, bikers and motorcycle enthusiasts come from all around to park down on the quay and admire each others bikes and matching outfits. It was quite a specticle. In fact it was as though Sturgis had come to Poole for the day. I had a pint of my favorite Strongbow cider with blackcurrent cordial, of which you can't get in most 'pubs' in Canada despite their immitation of the English way of life. Later I had an amazing dinner of marinated chicken with mint, almonds, and artichokes in a cream sause, with basmati rice. Later in my hotel, I had a 'sticky toffee pudding' while I watched the TV. I slept like a rock.

I leave tomorrow for Bristol to visit the boyfriend's family. Looking forward to it. I've spoken to them on the phone and they're looking forward to meeting me. I think it will be lots of fun.

Strangely, I am looking forward to getting back to my own bed, my feather duvet and pillows, my cat, the boyfriend and having an incoming flow of money rather than just the outgoing, and the usual routine. And of course a bit more travelling in my own country....

xoxo
Jill

changes

Lovely how a big bed, feather pillows, a TV and a private bathroom can equal so much comfort after slumming in hostels and overnight sleeps on the bus.

Too bad that when I flicked on the TV, the news of the school shooting in the US was plastered on all 3 available channels. My thoughts go out to those family and firends that have lost someone so senselessly.

riding the rails

IMGP4366, originally uploaded by smoooch.

There's something that 's really exhilerating about navigating huge subway sytems like the London Tube.

Having a blast in London despite asnag with picking up a package I left behind. Probably the lack of sleep and proper food.

xoxo
Jill

transporting

Holy moly. I cannot believe the trip I have had. If I could have afforded the train, it would have clearly been the better choice. I jumped on a train in Brugge that was packed and ended up spending the 1 hr trip sitting on the floor in the train car boarding area. I got to Brussels literally 2 hours early as I thought the bus left at 10 pm but it actually left at 10:45, or at least it was supposed to. Afetr walking around and eating the only food that was available to me out of vending machines, the bus arrived an hour late and didn't leave for 2 as the bus driver had to meticulously record every detail of every passport on the full to capacity bus. Couldn't that have been done in advance??

During the trip we stopped for 1/2 hour at a gas station for reasons unknown. We went through the Calais (France)/ Dover (England) border. Had to get off again when we boarded the ferry and have our bags x-rayed, get back on the bus and then get off for the ferry trip. There, I had the unfortunate incident of being cornered by a fellow passenger who asked me how Christianity was in Canada and used that comment to launch into a nonstop explanation of his faith. I broke away.

However, at one point, and this is a bit funny, I went in search of hot food and saw a que in line for what looked like breakfast. So I fell in line. The usual English breaky of sunnyside up eggs (yuck. luckily there was scrambled.), fried bread (Really, what are they thinking? That and cold toast? I don't get the appeal but I had some.), ham bacon, some kind of fat sausage, fried tomatoes and french fries. Packets of jam, brown sauce, malt vinegar, and ketchup waited for us at the end. And it seemed that no matter what you had, you paid £3.20. OK. Well, it also seemed that the room was too small for all the passengers on the boat and that they only ones eating this breakfast were quite burly and tattooed. Then I saw the door sign that read "For Transport Drivers Only". Oops. I masqueraded as a lorry driver and got a cheap breaky. Best part of the trip.

Well, I have finally arrived in London. It's 9 am and I was supposed to be here at 6. Off to find London Fields, the home of a friend of Michael's and where I stayed when I first arrived, to pick up a gift for Michael's niece and then onwards to Poole for activities that because are work related are never mentioned in detail here.

Hope everyone back home is doing well. I miss you.

xoxo
Jill

last day in Brugge

I trundled off this morning to the closest laundromat as the clothes need to be cleaned. I have actually managed to accomplish this just before I leave a country. I cleaned them before I left the Czech Republic and before I left France and it seemed fitting I would do them again before I leave Belgium. Here's to changing into my pajama's and back into my clean clothes in front of strangers!!

I take a late train back to Brussels today. I'm scheduled to get on a 10 pm bus departure for London, which arrives tomorrow at 6am. I'll try and put the bag in storage while I do a bit of running around and then I get a train to Poole where I have a hotel reservation waiting for me. This is the point where work picks up the tab.

Well, my last day and I think I'll take another bike ride into the country side and around town. It's an hour to the Dutch border. I wonder if I can do it. Probably not, but maybe I'll see Little Bo Peep again. Oh, there's some Beguinage Nuns here that I'll stop in and say hello to as well.

ps. take a look through the link as there are some great pictures of Brugge that pretty well represent what I am seeing everyday.

xoxo
Jill

bit of this bit of that

Backpacking with one pair of shoes and 2 changes of clothes is a drag. There's no way to know what the weather is like so you inevitably end up carrying something you don't need and not carrying what you do. Why didn't I bring a book? Why do I have 8 tops? I consistently worn 3-4. I have washed my socks, underwear and bra in the shower with me and I only have 1 towel. The other day I had to drop my pants to pee in a park and I sprayed my pant leg. I've worn those pants 3 more days since and I'll finally do my laundry tomorrow.

Anybody that tells you backpacking Europe is a barrel of laughs is either lying or has never done it. In reality, its a job no one pays you to do.

PS. A special thank you to my sister who gave me a small change perse that had a keyring. I have attached that each day to whatever clothing I am wearing. I never feared a pickpocket since.

xoxo
Jill

I went into a shop today that seemed rather interesting, or at least the man in the shop seemed very welcoming. There were very striking dolls in the window. I popped in and had a chat with an artist, Phillip Heath. He makes all the dolls by hand with a process that I can't begin to describe, and they are all based on photographs he has taken of street children. Further discussions revealed that he worked with organizations like UNICEF in the past and had a life history of working with abused children. The profits from his dolls supports his life and continues to support his commitment tohelping abused or homeless children.

Take a look at the website.

what I have learned so far

• I found this cheese shop, Androuet while I was in Paris and had a very interesting chat with the owner. He mentioned that the owners of a cheese shop in Vancouver come and visit him. I was surprised at all the knowledge I had retained about the various stories about cheese I once knew. I felt passionate and interested again in the subject and feel like I should at least one day a month in a cheese shop or maybe open my own one day. I will start with the one in Vancouver (or maybe the one in Paris will have me back?? ha!)
  
• I still feel like I would like to run or own a hostel somewhere in the world. I have felt this way for 11 years and am no closer than I was when I first discovered this feeling. How do I make this happen??
• I want to grow my hair out into a short boy cut. I have seen lots and lots of women with this look and it appeals to me. Right now, I am not that far off.
  
• I want to walk 10000 steps every day, even maybe more. Even though I detest walking normally, I have come to find it very calming and love my little pedometer.
• I love the idea of lunches of bits of cheese and meat and bread eaten wherever, and off the brown papers their wrapped in. Must do this more at home. I also like the idea of little bottles of wine sold at the grocery store. I wish I could do this more at home. First thing in order is a picnic at Trout Lake with cheeses and meats wrapped in brown paper.
• It is lonely to travel alone, and sometimes scary. But in the end, you are without the compromises and sometimes dramas that can accompany a companion. For to have the freedom of making all your own decisions you give up the fun and sharing of a companion.
• Cause and effect: When something bad happens, it may not be because you did or said something bad; it may not be the effect. The bad thing may be at the start of the lesson, the cause, that in turn creates an effect that is unexpected. I met a girl who in a moment of distraction had her bag snatched. It contained all her cash (and alot!), her credit cards, camera, blackberry, ipod etc.. She kept saying she must have done something horrible in the past for that to happen to her now. I said, maybe it happened to force you to stay in Brussels an extra day to prevent something bad from happening. Or maybe it was something that happened to push your life into an experience of growth and something better.
• Always travel with a good book for when you are in countries where English is not the 1st language and everything is unreadable.
  

What have you learned lately??

xox
Jill

more Brugge

My sleep in my little room was nice, if not a little lumpy. I walked down the hall to the bathroom last night and there on a ledge was Van Gogh's 'Room at Arles' which I mentioned below. I brought it into my room. Very nice. The furniture is almost the same. This morning I had the distinct impression of a cat walking on the mattress near the pillow. I could very clearly feel the depressions in the surface near me and when i would open my eyes It would disappear. When I closed them again, it come back. Clearly my room is haunted with the spirit of a cat.

Brugge on the other hand seems to be the holiday destination of the well heeled European. The people are mostly middle aged, garish taste and weather exposed leather skin. Sagging ochre tanned decolettage abound. The streets are packed with them and their more tatseful offspring and the shops are clearly in line with their needs. I saw this really nice, simple dress in a shop window and popped into chech the price; it was 138 Euro. A little steep for me. Nontheless, the streets are full of people, the streets a mash of bicycles, tiny cars, horse drawn carriages and SUV's. Yes, SUV's. I was also very surprised to see them in a tiny canal ridden place like Brugge.

I took a boat ride through the canals. Best 7 Euros spent apart from the bike ride. You pile into a boat with 20 other tourists and drift thoughtfully under the bridges and around corners. Other tourist boats pass and every time you go under a bridge, the other tourists looking down on you wave. And some wave back. I got on and sat next to a little boy:

Little Boy: Mommy, I don't want to sit next to a stranger.
Me: Well my name is Jill. There! We're not strangers anymore.
He scowled.
The mother: It's OK, she's from the States too.
Me: No, Canada.
She slightly scowled at me too.
I turned and faced the other direction.

The views from the boat were great, like postcards. I took lots. I wish I could show you but I'm not going to risk another loss and the new USB stick seems to be having troubles. Maybe this operating system needs an upgrade. Sorry. For now, no pictures.

I may hire another bike and zip around again. Apparently if you go past Damme you can ride to the Dutch border. Maybe I should take my passport for stamping?? It's the cobblestones that deter me. Other than the boat trip, I haven't done anything touristy. I don't really feel like standing in line to climb the 300 stairs to the town belfry this time around.

xoxo
Jill

Stephanie and Stephanie

Stephanie and Stephanie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

This is Stephanie and Stephanie, both from Melbourne. We shared a hostel toom in Montmartre, Paris for 3 nights or so. The only other person in the room was this guy who came in very late and left very early in a suit. One of the Stephanie's claimed that in the morning he would walk from the bathroom to his suitcase etc.. with nothing on. I would bear witness to that phenomenon a few days later. Weirdo.

These girls had a grand sense of humor. They had a photo of them standing out in the middle of Chaps Elyesses with these candy fangs in their mouths. It was really funny. I suggested they do a whole series; in front of the Notre Damn, the Eiffel Tower and so on. My last night in the hostel they bought fangs and wanted to have a photo taken with me but just as I snapped this, a gang of learing Morrocans came into the hostel and distracted us. Besides, the fangs are starting to dissolve.

Really lovely girls. I hope they keep in touch.

-Jill

on Brugge

I am staying at a very nice little hotel in the old part of Brugge. My tiny room is on the top 3rd floor, up a very narrow and steep winding stairwell with what I observed to be a very rickety railing. One quick stumble and you and your backpack would crash right through it to land on the faded and worn carpet below. The room has one little wood framed bed, one little desk and one little chair. On the other side there is a small sweet wardrobe. There is also a little window with a little view. You know that Van Gogh painting? That's my room, but smaller.
The hostel has a resident dog; a Sharpie named Sophia that is, get this, having her period so she walks around with a special diaper on. Interesting. I would have rather had a resident cat, but you can't have everything. I do have free Internet and a kitchen to use. Tonight's dinner incidentally is spinach tortellini with bolognese sauce, bread and boursin. Which is highly anticipated after the ride I have had.

I rented a bicycle and rode all over Brugge. I had to stop and buy a shoulder bag to carry my camera, maps, notebook and pen. My feet don't hurt now but my ass does after all the cobblestones I encountered. I rode all the way to nearby Damme. It's about 1/2 hour. It was just about the nicest thing ever. Riding along a canal on a tree lined narrow rode in the Belgium countryside trying to remember the words for "in Flanders's field's, the poppies grow row on row...". The view was something else. I passed 3 windmills. I seriously thought I would see a Flemish nun milking a cow in wooden shoes. It was incredibly picturesque.

And then I happened upon Little Bow Peep instead, except she wasn't wearing a flouncy dress, but she did have the curved walking stick and a bunch of bleating sheep. They were all along the road munching the clover. Of course, I got off the bike and took lots of pictures of the little lambs with their pink ears. All these sheep just walked around me and you could reach out and pet the wee ones. You know, they aren't as soft as they look. But one of them left behind a woolen fleece tangled on a bit of a branch and I thought about collecting it to stuff between my toes for comfort, but do my feet need to smell THAT bad?

Damme was damn boring. If they filmed a movie there, I couldn't find anyplace worthy of a location scout. It was full of quaint houses, and perfect lawns. No canals really, just some swamp water. I stopped in a off the beaten track (and you didn't have to go far) place for something to eat. Everything seemed to have meat in it so I settled for a glass of coke and asked for a big bottle of water. I get a 1 litre GLASS bottle of water. How am I supposed to transport that?? I drank the whole thing and the coke. The bill was 8 Euro. I left Damme and 1/2 hr later headed for the first bathroom I could find.

Now, I'm settling in for a relaxing evening and an early night. Tomorrow are the street markets and some regular sightseeing. Did you know the blood of Christ is here in Brugge? No, me neither, but I think I may try and see it.

how to post comments

1. Click the little red word that says "0 comments" or it will say 1 or 2 etc if someone has already left comments.
2. A window pops up and there will be a box that says, "Leave your Comment". Type your thoughtful and considerate prose in that box.
3. Mom: pay attention here..Scroll down to where there are three buttons and it will give an option of "Other" or "Anonymous". Choose "OTHER".
4. When you click on the "other", 2 lines pop up that asks for your name and web page. Fill them in accordingly. If you are my mom, type Mom where it says name, etc..If you don't have a web page, leave it blank.
5. Thus, if you're my mom, when your comment is published later (all comments are moderated through me first), it will say "Mom says..." rather than "anonymous says...". And it's better that way.
6. Preview first if you'd like, then click, "Publish Comments". I get an email letting me read the comment before it appears. The next time I go to post a comment, I publish yours. Make sense?? Hope so.
   
7. Good luck.
8. xoxo Jill
   

I am a girl, but I don't have a pearl earring but I am packing an useless rain coat..

Today I am going to rent a bike and ride along the canals to nearby Damme which is where part of the movie, "Girl with a Pearl Earring" was filmed. Should be very relaxing and a change of pounding the cobblestones.

I have a small issue between my 1st and 2nd toes. It started as a blister and then popped. Then it turned into something between a callus and a corn. Now it is a blister underneath the thick callused skin and it's quite annoying and sore. It really needs a break from the 18km walks, so a bike ride is in order. Incidentally, I do believe I am finally loosing weight from all this walking.

Incidentally, it has not rained one day while I have been in Europe. I don't believe it has rained anywhere in Europe. When I was in Paris the weather was in the 20's and I read a headline that Brusssels is supposed to break a heat record with a predicted 32 degrees for this weekend. Alternatively, my mother in Red Deer, Alberta says that it has snowed and that spring just keeps getting delayed. I do believe that Europe will become completly uninhabitable during certain parts of the year and the only people who will be in these cities will be fountain caretakers or backpackers wearing very little.

xox
Jill

A Treat

I have safely arrived in Brugge. It's alot like Cesky Krumlov; medieval, quaint with a canal or two. I shelpt my way to the HI Youth Hostel which was nearly 2 km from the train station. It's cold, ornary, rule orientated and reminds me of another hospital. And it's outside of the old quaint part of town. No fun at 18 Euro. True I could rent a bike all day for 9 Euro, but then again, the cost of internet is 1.5 Euro for 1/2 hr!!!

So I went looking. And it's a quaint hotel in the old part and I can get a private room with shared facilities for 26 Euro. Breakfast, the internet, bedding, warm and friendly reception are all included. It's the Hotel Lybeer and I'm having a little treat after so much walking and the weird and dirty Brussels.

xoxo
Jill

Score

My last day in Brussels and I did walk back to a few of the good spots. I wrote about one here. This time, the snooty Blonde woman was gone and a friendly Spanish construction worker was there and he let me inside (I don't think she would be too happy to know that.).

So Lucky me, I have looked out through these windows.



I'm off to Brugge in a few hours. I have the momentary impression that Brugge is Belgium's version of Venice. I envision quaint boat trip down scenic canals and quaint cafe's and well rested feet.

224

IMGP5452, originally uploaded by smoooch.

for a family of 4

IMGP5417, originally uploaded by smoooch.

another tiny car

IMGP5505, originally uploaded by smoooch.

right now as I type

Due to the location of the Youth Hostel I am staying at in Brussels, I am in a heavily Muslim area, I think I have mentioned that. There is a massive crowd in the street right now as someone has died in the building, I believe upstairs in the apartment above the internet place. Women are yelling and crying and people are EVEYWHERE. It alternatively reminds me of Morocco and some thing I have seen on TV after a car bomb has gone off. But this is the seat of the EU and not Iraq.

And I am the only caucasion girl on the whole block, typing away while this all goes on just outside the door. There are police and ambulances and the sounds are something else. I wouldn't dare take out my camera for this, as it seems my presence may be unrespectful at best. The police have come into the internet cafe and there are sirens and general commotion. I feel like I am a war correspondent filing a news report. The yelling and noise and commotion is crazy, but sounds of grief not anger.

I think I'll get out and get back safely to the hostel before the tide turns.

the saga of lost photo files

Well, I don't think it's a complete loss. Did I think I was going to blow up my photos into monstrous proportions? Not exactly. If I am unabale to use the flickr files for suitable printing, there is a lovely program called Qoop that will be able to print at least 8x10's and 8x12's. It gets a bit sketchy any biggerthan that.

I came back to the dodgy internet place with a translater and alas the files are unretrievable. But as my lovely mother pointed out, the letterboxes and doorknobs would not work so well as huge prints, but smaller as a series.

By the way, Mom: it was great to talk to you today. It kind of reminded myself of when I travelled Europe before and I would phone home wheneverI was having difficulty. And it was a snag, but certainly not the end of my visit in Brussels.

I don't think I will go back to the walking tours again and grapple at getting the same photos twice. It's not worth it. It will feel frantic and rushed and won't be any fun. But I may go early in the morning for a few doors that I remember. I'm glad I saw what I did. I am looking forward to getting out of this crazy neighborhood and visiting Brugge for 3 relaxing days. Who knows maybe there is a whole show on Brugge waiting.

I hope your class went well and the weather possibly improved, but then again, it's Alberta.

xoxo
Jill

from the top of the Notre Damn

IMGP5288, originally uploaded by smoooch.

always watching over the city of lights

IMGP5286, originally uploaded by smoooch.

ribbon

IMGP5524, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Beautiful, isn't it.

xox
Jill

ps. feeling ok about the photo catastrophe. There isn't really anything I can do, but move on, right. But it was a rather large jug of expensive milk I spilt, so clearly a day full of kindness and treats for myself is in order. Hopefully, all will work out on the Flickr end of things.

xoxo
Jill

SUV's are a rare sight in Europe.

IMGP5508, originally uploaded by smoooch.

But I have seen some insanely cute and very tiny vehicles. I would have to say scooters were the popular mode of transportation in Paris and every 7-10 car is a Smart Car. I see an SUV maybe every 50 cars or so. Otherwise, all are small and very compact.

xox
Jill

they're gone

I ran and got another USB stick this morning. I ran back and waited for this crappy little Internet hole in the wall to open. The files are gone. The system deletes all temporary files when its shut down. I can't believe my stupidity. The original large format files of all those art nouveau photos are gone. I can only pray that what I can download from Flickr later on, will be suitable for printing.

I can do 2 things: I can stay in Brussels another 3 days and miss Brugge and recreate my 15km walks and photos or I can cut my losses and move on.

Mom, what do you think I should do?

I think I need to get out of this neighborhood and definitly this dodgy internet cafe. I can't believe I could be so stupid with my photos. I could spend the rest of the day crying, but I have one last walk and one last stab at getting some photos.

Apart from the Art Nouveau, I really don't like Brussels much. On a side note, I have emailed Flickr in hopes of peace of mind knowing that the files I have on Flickr can be blown up to 8x10 or larger. Keeping my fingers crossed.

watching the looking

IMGP5532, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I stumbeld upon a free photo show in a park today. The people looking at the photos made for a few good ones. I approached these 2 women afterwards to let them kknow that I had snapped their photo. They were both Catholic nuns. I told them I had taken hundreds of photos since I had come abroad and that the one I took of them was nearly my favorite. In terms of any pictures I have taken of people, it is.

xox
Jill

doors, doorknobs and letterboxes

You can look at all my recent photos. I apologize for the slanted angles. I will have to fix that later, as I have to move quickly and get off line. I will also fix the doubles and edit out the crap. I'm using Flickr a bit to store photos as you will learn about a few posts down.

Do I have a show from any of this? Maybe. If you think a show on doorknobs, doors and letter boxes might be interesting. I seem to have taken quite a few pictures of them.

How do you like the 689 pictures so far??

Here's just Art Nouveau and just the letterboxes. And finally, my lovely collection of doorknobs.

Much love,
Jill

To Danielle

A lovely girl named Danielle who is living in Mons, Belgium has been watching my blog for some time. She sent me a lovely email saying she had enjoyed reading about where I had been and so on; So, Danielle emailed me and offered me a place to stay should I choose to visit Mons. For various reasons, I have declined, but it was a tough decision to make because I love a free place to stay, I love to meet the locals, and I love an unexpected opportunity, but nontheless, I declined.

Well, today I received an email from Danielle saying she was coming to Brussels and did I want to meet for a coffee or a meal? Well, of course, I said. Except, I only had one problem; I could not yet figure out how to navigate a pay phone. I must be a complete idiot or every phone I found today was broken.

So, Danielle, if you are reading this, I humbly apologize for not being able to contact you today despite my best efforts. I sincerly hope you didn't spend the day in Brussels wondering about when I would call or feeling bad when I didn't. If you ever come to Vancouver, the coffee and a place to stay is on me.

Sincerely,
Jill

the horror

I thought I could do it, I did it before. Oh boy have I fucked up, maybe. There's hope to solve my littel problem. What I did was try to copy images off of my memory card to put themon line for you, faithful rader of my blog. Well, I was able to do that, but what I also did was erase the images frm my memory card. This is bad. I need to take these images home with me and a file on Flickr is not the same.

So for now, all of my photos from my last day or 2 in Paris and ALL the art nouveau and Brussels phots are hiden in a folder on a computer in a dodgy part of Brussels populated by North Africans and a youth hostel.

My plan? To search out a USB stick tomorrow, hustle back and get those photos on that stick and delete them from this computer. Will I sleep well tonight? Probably not. But how hard can this be? This is doable. It can't possibly be that hard to find a USB stick in Brussels.

I hope. In the worst case scenario, I have at least got them up on Flickr.

it is just not right

"The terrifying and edible beauty of Art Nouveau architecture."

- Salvador Dali

I found the beloved Hotel Tassel (scroll through the link to see the images of inside) yesterday. It is a private building and you can not go in, as a member of the public. This is just wrong. How could something so beautiful and a cornerstone of Horta's career not be a state owned building and open to the public??

I half considered camping out on the steps to harass the first person who opened the door but I knew the end result would probably not end in my favour and perhaps the police would be called.

But still, it is not right! However, what you can go in is Horta's private home. It's a museum. I'm going today. One thing I have noticed as I hunt down these gems is that the building are actually signed by the architects. You'll see a concrete slab and it has been signed before the concrete set. It's really facinating.

xoxo
Jill

today's escapade

I saw this window and building today. I also saw someone inside and true to my nature I rang the bell. A very pretty blond woman came to the door. After we determined we both spoke English...

Me: Excuse me, I'm very sorry to bother you, but I am an admirer of Art Nouveau.
Her: Yes?
Me: I know this is terribly inappropriate, but would you allow me to see the inside?
Her: Oh, no. It's also very dirty as we are fixing it up.
Me: It's a very lovely window out front.
Her: Yes, and it's filthy. We are fixing it up as we will rent it out.
Me: Oh? How much will the rent be?
Her: I'm not going to tell you that.

Well. Alright then.

I have seen many unbelievable examples of Art Nouveau yesterday and today. I wish I could show you the pictures but I am just feeling way too ill to try and organize that venture. I'd have to find an Internet cafe, you see, with a USB port access often denied at hostel Internet terminals. And since lately, I can't even navigate the phones, it seems daunting.

Speaking of navigation.. I seem to be able to find my way fine with my art nouveau walking tour maps, but finding stamps or a post office seems to be out of my reach. I have a number of postcards that didn't get mailed in Paris and more from here. Since it costs about 2 dollars each to mail one, they will probably get mailed from Vancouver.

xox
Jill

constant companion

IMGP4938, originally uploaded by smoooch.

of being a tourist

It's remarkable what landmarks tourists have created. Nearly everywhere you go there is a famous landmark or something to "rub for good luck". There was the sculpture on the Charles Bridge, and there is a a sculpture in Brussels as well. The thing about the sculpture to rub for good luck in Brussels is that it is right next to a marker for one of Brussels Art Nouveau architects and is a beautiful example of the craftsmanship. The crowd was busy photographing and touching this sculpture while completely ignoring the masterpiece right next to it. I ask someone nearby, "Do you know what it is or what it is for?" referring to the good luck charm, she laughed and said she didn't. I asked her if she knew why she was filming it. She laughed again and walked away.

Such is the case of the Manneken-Pis. It's just this little statue not more than 2 or 3 feet high. Various legends abound, but most likely it was a drinking spout, albeit, a humorous one. By the way, I think there is an underground river that runs beneath Brussels, which is in fact connected to the sewage system. Water from this stream is used to create some of the Belgian beers. I think it was Victor Hugo that said something about residents of Brussels drinking their own piss every day; Perhaps the Manneken-Pis is a joke on that.

Regardless, it's famous, and most likely so because of throngs of tourists who have made it so. On it's own, it's just a pissing sculpture. Tons of sculptures that spew water are all over Europe. But the question is, why do we, as tourists, continue to flock to these unlikely monuments. Does it add to our experiences of visiting a place? Does it verify we were there? Does it connect us to the bigger whole, make us feel more complete?

Would you go to Lourdes or Roquefort and not visit the caves? Of course not. Paris without Jim Morrison's grave? Perhaps. But not the Eiffel Tower or Notre Damn? Probably not. Somethings are landmarks and have gathered true legendary status. But maybe it's a homage to something dear to you ( are you a fan of Mr. Morrison?). If you are a fan of the Parisian literary greats; Hemingway, Sartre, ..) then you go to Cafe De Flore and Cafe Deux Magot. Problem is so does EVERYBODY else. Then it becomes the point when what could be a true landmark, in fact becomes a tourist marker.

And back to the Manneken- Pis: landmark or tourist marker? Why would you go see a 2 foot high sculpture of a little boy pissing?

I did. But I still want to know why.

when feeling low eat a big plate of salad

Curious how a wicked long and hot shower and a big plate of lettuce and Belgian Endive can perk you up. Or how a full day in the blazing sun looking at architectural masterpiece's with no one to express the amazement and wonderment you feel can bring you down. Did I mention that Brussels is also a fairly dirty, sooty city and they have unbelievable architectural gems laying in ruins. I saw a few buildings that looked like squats-all boarded up. It would be like walking down Hastings in Vancouver except the buildings would be from the 17-18th centuries. It's a bit depressing, as you can imagine.

I have decided to go to Brugge for the nights of April 12-13-14. I am considering it my holiday from my holiday. It's slightly cheaper than Brussels and maybe I'll splurge on a boat trip down the canals or just slowly wander the medieval streets. Apparently there is a pretty good flea market on Saturday too.

Thanks to the "farm" for the well wishes. I almost forgot that it was Easter. I wish I could have been there. When I saw the message from the "farm" I only concluded that there had been a wiener roast in the tree line since technically there isn't a farm anymore!!

oh woe

I'm lonely.

It's not easy travelling, navigating metros and trams, crowds, grocery stores, finding hostels, not loosing anything and having fun all by yourself and then no one to share it with. I kind of miss my 2 hostel mates in Paris. At the end of the day we shared what we did and not in hand gestures and broken English. However, if I was travelling with someone, would I have clocked 18.39 km around central Brussels today? It's a give and take. But it's tough. I feel exhausted and that I need a holiday from the big cities. I can't seem to navigate the phones in Brussels as I really want to call family to say hello.

No one cares what you had for breakfast but...

Yes, I know no one cares but today I thought it was blog worthy.

I wasn't sure about this Brussels hostel. Dodgy neighborhood, sterile hospital like atmosphere, etc.. But I'm sold on it now that I have had breakfast. 2 types of bread- baguette and rye that come with an assortment of jams, cheeses, or Nutella, 2 choices of cereal, coffee/tea, orange juice and sweetened or non sweetened yogurt.

I could just eat a huge breakfast, snack lightly thoughout the day and then fill up the next morning.

Now I just need a decent map and to feel less like I have the flu, but flue bedamned, I am seeking out every nook and cranny of Brussels Art Nouveau!!

Little Zorro

IMGP4951, originally uploaded by smoooch.

She was playing with 2 little boys who were not dressed up. Very Sweet moment in a park I stumbled into not far from Champs Elysée.

Art Nouveau??

Well..

I managed to not get on a bus for Transylvania and have safely arrived in Brussels. I have to be honest and admit that I don't like it so far. It is drab and dirty. The metro stops are devoid of design or color. There are also packs of North African men pooling around the corners of streets and metro stops. In fact, there are parts that remind me of Morocco. Gaggles of women with their hair and bodies covered up in unattractive and bland garb, never travelling alone. Tea cafes with no women inside etc... And unlike Paris, very few people speak English.

My hostel is not far from the city centre. Hostel Generation Europe. I'm not sure but I think this was either a hospital or a school at one time. Most likely a hospital. Lino everywhere and long dark corridors. Very sterile but secure and clean. The Internet is cheaper than it was in Paris and readily available. No USB port connection that I can see, so pictures may have to wait.

I am also feeling a bit sick. I have a sore throat and sneezy. Eating lots of apples and oranges and drinking lots of water and juice when I can. Early to bed tonight for another fun filled day of walking. I think this is the only day so far where I have not clocked over 10000 steps. My feet could use the rest.

Last night I went out with my 2 roommates from my lovely Parisian hostel; Stephanie & Stephanie-both from Melbourne. They were really lovely girls and very funny too. They'd come to Paris to stay and work and were on a quest for an apartment. We went out and had a true Parisian hot chocolate (which cost 4 Euro each, but SOOOO good).

Hopefully, Brussels will step up and enchant me with its Art Nouveau.

xoxo
Jill

Au revoir Paris.

IMGP4890, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I got up very early this morning and did my laundry so that I can start Brussels with clean underwear and socks. I went down to the Notre Damn and waited in the already long line for the towers to open at 10 am. I paid the charge (they must make millions at 7.50 Euros each person and hundreds every day!), and climbed all 432 stairs to the sky scraping top. It really had to be done for the Chimera's and Gargoyles.

Now for a quick lunch and a few snacks and I'm off to the bus for Brussels.

xoxo
Jill

If I could

If I had money as no worry, I would move to Paris and buy a little apartment with shuttered windows and a tiny balcony. I would get a cat or bring Ruby and I would enrol in French lessons. I would spend the afternoons in the park with a pique-nique and ride the metro everywhere I needed to go. It is an enchanting city, that's for sure.

It is my last night, I have thought about eating out in a small cafe patio, but it would be something to share; not as a traveller alone. Instead, I spent the money on a small gift for my sister, who is kindly sharing the responsibilites of my apt with Michael.

Today, I found that a whole lot of Canadian students are here for the 90th anniversary of Vimy Ridge; Actually, 1 student for every soldier killed. I saw a whole pack of Canadian students today and said hello.

I also went to the Sacre Coeur and explored Montmarte. Portrait artists everywhere. It was alot like selling France to the tourists!!

Off to the Notre Damn first thing to go up the towers and then to my bus for Brussels!!!!

xoxo
Jill

For Vince

For Vince, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Baisser

IMGP4918, originally uploaded by smoooch.

This is Brancusi's "The Kiss". It's on a grave in Montparnasse Cemetary.

the life in Paris

the life in Paris, originally uploaded by smoooch.

bonjour mademoiselle

IMGP4971, originally uploaded by smoooch.

have a seat

have a seat, originally uploaded by smoooch.

la fromage

la fromage, originally uploaded by smoooch.

covered the size of a small city

I really don't know if my pedometer is recording my activities correctly. Today it says I have walked 24123 steps or 17.85 km. I have been recording these numbers and its feirce how far I have walked:

39140, 15.65km
26265, 18.38km
9989, 6.99km
25960, 18.43km
22779, 16.17km
21749, 16.09km
11736, 8.68km
26885, ?km

See what I mean? Some of those are recorded over 2days but some are one day excurions. If I keep this up, I'll be too tired to explore Brussels.

Since I have arrived in Paris, I have walked down the Champ Eleesyes, Blvd St. Germain, all over Cemeterie Montparnasse and Pere Lachaise, Rue Royal, the area around the Moulin Rouge (I have never been to anything more anti climactic in my whole life; it looks nothing like the postcards, pictures, movies etc), the Left Bank, the Notre Damn, The Eiffel Tower (I decided to not go up, due to the massive line ups and ridiculous price), Musee de Orsay, up and down the boulevards, down kooky little streets. I'm plum tuckered out.

Speaking of prices, it's very expensive under the Euro. I bought a one litre bottle of water and it was 3 Euro which is almost $6!! You have to be very careful to buy things in supermarkets and neighborhood shops and not in touristy places. This internet session will run 1.50 Euro for 1/2 hr and that almost up...

I do have tons of pictures to upload, just need to find a place that will let you attach USB sticks and camera equipment.

xoxo Jill

another day in Paris

The hostel is really nice.An old hotel in Montmarte. Hardwood floors and good pillows. Breakfst included is a small baguette, jam, cofee:tea, and orange juice. Its a sunny, bright blue sky day in Paris. Im off to photograph the cemeteries and anything else I may find.

xoxox
Jill

IMGP4796, originally uploaded by smoooch.

a tragedy

I jumped on the Metro in search of those Metro stations decorated with the designs of Hector Guimard. I had not gone one stop, when the metro stopped functioning. The announcements were unintelligable but when everyone else was getting off, I followed suit. A few people were looking down at the tracks between the cars and I looked too. Someone had jumped in front of the train.

Paris, like Prague is swarming with people. But here they are Parisiens, not tourists. People beg on the streets and on the trains and more than not they are truly in need. Not at all like the young drug addicts that hang around on the streets in Vancouver. This city is constantly on the move. It's alot like New York but somehow different. Shorter maybe.

I came home early and bought a Boursin cheese, a baguette, some pasta and some orange juice. I feel like going to bed early tonight.

mishaps and misadventures

Cesky Krumlov was a wonderful little town. Very peaceful and quite, except for the 2 snorers in the same room with me. And despite all the free coffee I drank, which gave me terrible jitters which translated into horrifying anxiety, I really enjoyed my time there.

I took the 3 hour bus trip back to Prague to make my 10pm bus to Paris. I made a dash downtown to buy an English magazine and a few treats and went to the platform ' for the bus. It was already there along with a crowd waiting to get on. There was this group of gypsies (well not really, they just seemed to be trying to take all there belongings with them) haggling with the bus driver about their many bags. There was even a bathroom scale out to weigh each one. I thought to myself, where the hell am I going? But when they closed the luggage doors and I still had my backpack with me and they opened the doors to the bus, I jumped on.

I settled into my seat, looked around and noted the sketchy and dodgy eastern Europeans surrounding me, but I was happy to have the seat next to me free. There was a baby crying behind me and the smell of sweat, cheap cologne and various food products pierced the air acridly. This is going to be one hell of a 15 hr trip.

The bus roared to life and started to pull out and I thought to ask the nearest person, "This bus is going to Paris right?".

They shook their head and said no, Roma.

ROME!! HOLY SHIT.I jumped up and ran to the bus driver, "This bus is going to Rome? Not Paris?" The bus came to a stop. "What are you doing on this bus? We are going to Romania!"

I thought it was odd that no one looked at my ticket. Thank god I got off that bus when I did. Rest assured, I am in Paris now, at the hostel.

And it is fabulously stinky, polluted, smoggy, and fantstic. Just the way I remembered it.

The crowds from atop.

IMGP4700, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Here's a link for more info on Prague's Astronomical Clock.

why didn't I come here earlier?

Have arived in Cesky Krumlov. A very lovely and peaceful little village. I am staying at the Hostel Merlin for only one night, but now that I am here, I wish I could stay at least for 2. There are no crowds and the hostel promises a quiet night. They even have free internet. In any case, I'm glad to be here. Glad to have all day and most of tomorrow, and glad to be away from the beer tap known as Prague.

Here is a link to the hostel I'll be saying in Paris.

xox
Jill

lonley ex-Jewish Ghetto- Terezin

IMGP4689, originally uploaded by smoooch.