This is just a note for anyone who needs to reach me in an emergency, or anyone who I might be meeting up with over here.
My phone number over here is: +447765294215
Either SMS or Voice is fine.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Get up! Get up! Get up! (2/26: Lisbon, Portugal)
Woke up at 9am this morning, Christie is dying (instead of going to work – whole reason we’re in Lisbon in the first place), but I’m headed down to the lobby to meet up with my driver. Today, I’m taking surfing lessons!
We head out to Carcavelos Beach, about 20 minutes drive north of Lisbon, where I meet up with Manuel, my instructor. Get suited up in a wetsuit, get a long board, and we head down to the water. Before we ever get in, we spend about 20 minutes on land, going through some of the basics. I must have looked really stupid to anyone passing by. What they would have seen was me, lying down on a surfboard in the sand, pretending to swim, sitting up, pretending to swim again, and then jumping up on the board.
Anyway, once we get that out of the way, time to hit the water! I get on the board and start swimming out, to a chorus of “Paddle! Paddle! Paddle!” from Manuel. It reminded me of when I was in high school teaching 5 year olds how to swim at Babson day camp, and would always be yelling, “Swim! Swim! Swim!” at them. We get a ways out – yet only about 5 feet deep in the water – and Manual starts explaining waves to me. This is already much harder than I thought it was going to be. See, you pretty much have to figure out which waves are going to be good, where they are going to break, and what direction you need to be heading, all before the wave really looks like a wave. While I’m not actually trying to “catch” waves at this point, Manuel does want me to try to judge the waves, position myself to catch it, but then let the wave pass under me (three to five yards behind the wave break). The problem is, most of the time I seem to undershoot the spot I want to be in, and the wave basically breaks right on top of my head. At this point I should probably mention that the waves are about 6 feet tall. I’m not exaggerating, and you’ll all be able to see for yourself when ever I get around to posting pictures. So, 6 foot tall waves falling on top of my head, I learn pretty quickly not to undershoot the waves, and within 15 minutes or so, I’m nailing the breaks pretty regularly.
Ok, now it’s time to start “catching” the wave. Basically, all that comes down to is positioning yourself about 5 yards behind the wave break, and when you see the swell coming, start paddling furiously away from the wave, matching its approach angle. Done correctly, I’ll catch the wave right as it’s about to break, and just ride it into shore (still lying down on the board). This I’m actually really good at, and pick up very quickly. However, after all of this paddling out to the waves, and paddling furiously away from the waves, I’m pretty much exhausted, and, just so happens it’s lunch time. Part one of the lesson over, we head into shore for lunch.
Two hours later, back in the water. Now it’s time to start trying to stand up. This is the part I really, really suck at, which is surprising. I mean, this morning, if you’d told me that surfing basically comes down to upper body strength (all the paddling, and pushing yourself up to stand on the board), and balance (actually standing on the board), I’d have insisted that I’d struggle with the upper body strength part (cause I’m weak), but if I could get myself up, I’d be fine. Turns out I was wrong. I spend the next hour and a half trying to get up, and the longest I think I was actually able to stay standing was about 5 seconds. At first, it was just a mental problem. I’d catch the wave, and Manuel would start yelling “Get up! Get up! Get up!” and all that would be going through my head is “holy crap! This is working!” By the time my brain switched over to “Get up! Get up! Get up!” the wave would have weakened, and it would be too late to try to get up. So, once I got past that, and actually started trying to get up, I was just a disaster. A couple times I jumped up, and pushed the board right out from under myself. Another time I missed the board completely and my feet landed in the water. Most of the time, I’d land on the board, but immediately fall off to the side somewhere. But, eventually I got to the point where I could consistently get up on the board for 3-5 seconds before falling. I’m calling that a victory!
Around 3:30 or so, my second lesson over, I’m tired (from all the paddling and “Get up! Get up! Get up!”), I’m beat up (from all the waves hitting me), and I’m ready to go home.
Out of the water, clean up, change, and I’m in a car headed back to Lisbon. Get back to the hotel, and take a long, hot shower. Tonight for dinner, instead of heading to Fisherman’s Wharf, Christie and I decide to go to a more authentic restaurant. Ok, I insist on going to something more authentic, she’s still dying and couldn’t really care less. We go to Bota Alta in the Bairro Alto district, and have a pretty good dinner. We both get fish, a carafe of the house red, dessert (milk cake for her, whiskey tart for me), and finally head back to the hotel well stuffed.
Get back, into our respective beds, and watch TV for 4 hours. At some point we stumbled across some movie neither of us recognized, but Robert De Niro was in it, so we gave it a shot. Neither of us had any idea what the movie was, but something like every other person to show up on screen was either a star, or a “that guy”: Kevin Bacon as a prison guard, Brad Pitt/Billy Crudup/Ron Eldard/Minnie Driver as grown up versions of the kids at the beginning, Dustin Hoffman as a lawyer, and more. Anyone know what the movie is? It was called Sleepers, came out in 1996, and I swear to God I’d never even heard of it. Who’d have guessed I’d “discover” a movie like this hanging out with a friend in Portugal, of all places.
Yeah, definitely pretending the first two days in London never happened. Surfing was awesome, having a great time hanging out with Christie, even though she’s dying. Actually, this is a little funny. As part of whatever sickness she has, she’s lost her voice, so she’s constantly whispering. Well, when someone whispers to you, isn’t it your natural response to whisper back? So, Christie and I will be in the hotel room all alone, and she’ll whisper something to me, and I, of course, whisper back. Hmm… maybe you have to be there for it to be funny.
We head out to Carcavelos Beach, about 20 minutes drive north of Lisbon, where I meet up with Manuel, my instructor. Get suited up in a wetsuit, get a long board, and we head down to the water. Before we ever get in, we spend about 20 minutes on land, going through some of the basics. I must have looked really stupid to anyone passing by. What they would have seen was me, lying down on a surfboard in the sand, pretending to swim, sitting up, pretending to swim again, and then jumping up on the board.
Anyway, once we get that out of the way, time to hit the water! I get on the board and start swimming out, to a chorus of “Paddle! Paddle! Paddle!” from Manuel. It reminded me of when I was in high school teaching 5 year olds how to swim at Babson day camp, and would always be yelling, “Swim! Swim! Swim!” at them. We get a ways out – yet only about 5 feet deep in the water – and Manual starts explaining waves to me. This is already much harder than I thought it was going to be. See, you pretty much have to figure out which waves are going to be good, where they are going to break, and what direction you need to be heading, all before the wave really looks like a wave. While I’m not actually trying to “catch” waves at this point, Manuel does want me to try to judge the waves, position myself to catch it, but then let the wave pass under me (three to five yards behind the wave break). The problem is, most of the time I seem to undershoot the spot I want to be in, and the wave basically breaks right on top of my head. At this point I should probably mention that the waves are about 6 feet tall. I’m not exaggerating, and you’ll all be able to see for yourself when ever I get around to posting pictures. So, 6 foot tall waves falling on top of my head, I learn pretty quickly not to undershoot the waves, and within 15 minutes or so, I’m nailing the breaks pretty regularly.
Ok, now it’s time to start “catching” the wave. Basically, all that comes down to is positioning yourself about 5 yards behind the wave break, and when you see the swell coming, start paddling furiously away from the wave, matching its approach angle. Done correctly, I’ll catch the wave right as it’s about to break, and just ride it into shore (still lying down on the board). This I’m actually really good at, and pick up very quickly. However, after all of this paddling out to the waves, and paddling furiously away from the waves, I’m pretty much exhausted, and, just so happens it’s lunch time. Part one of the lesson over, we head into shore for lunch.
Two hours later, back in the water. Now it’s time to start trying to stand up. This is the part I really, really suck at, which is surprising. I mean, this morning, if you’d told me that surfing basically comes down to upper body strength (all the paddling, and pushing yourself up to stand on the board), and balance (actually standing on the board), I’d have insisted that I’d struggle with the upper body strength part (cause I’m weak), but if I could get myself up, I’d be fine. Turns out I was wrong. I spend the next hour and a half trying to get up, and the longest I think I was actually able to stay standing was about 5 seconds. At first, it was just a mental problem. I’d catch the wave, and Manuel would start yelling “Get up! Get up! Get up!” and all that would be going through my head is “holy crap! This is working!” By the time my brain switched over to “Get up! Get up! Get up!” the wave would have weakened, and it would be too late to try to get up. So, once I got past that, and actually started trying to get up, I was just a disaster. A couple times I jumped up, and pushed the board right out from under myself. Another time I missed the board completely and my feet landed in the water. Most of the time, I’d land on the board, but immediately fall off to the side somewhere. But, eventually I got to the point where I could consistently get up on the board for 3-5 seconds before falling. I’m calling that a victory!
Around 3:30 or so, my second lesson over, I’m tired (from all the paddling and “Get up! Get up! Get up!”), I’m beat up (from all the waves hitting me), and I’m ready to go home.
Out of the water, clean up, change, and I’m in a car headed back to Lisbon. Get back to the hotel, and take a long, hot shower. Tonight for dinner, instead of heading to Fisherman’s Wharf, Christie and I decide to go to a more authentic restaurant. Ok, I insist on going to something more authentic, she’s still dying and couldn’t really care less. We go to Bota Alta in the Bairro Alto district, and have a pretty good dinner. We both get fish, a carafe of the house red, dessert (milk cake for her, whiskey tart for me), and finally head back to the hotel well stuffed.
Get back, into our respective beds, and watch TV for 4 hours. At some point we stumbled across some movie neither of us recognized, but Robert De Niro was in it, so we gave it a shot. Neither of us had any idea what the movie was, but something like every other person to show up on screen was either a star, or a “that guy”: Kevin Bacon as a prison guard, Brad Pitt/Billy Crudup/Ron Eldard/Minnie Driver as grown up versions of the kids at the beginning, Dustin Hoffman as a lawyer, and more. Anyone know what the movie is? It was called Sleepers, came out in 1996, and I swear to God I’d never even heard of it. Who’d have guessed I’d “discover” a movie like this hanging out with a friend in Portugal, of all places.
Yeah, definitely pretending the first two days in London never happened. Surfing was awesome, having a great time hanging out with Christie, even though she’s dying. Actually, this is a little funny. As part of whatever sickness she has, she’s lost her voice, so she’s constantly whispering. Well, when someone whispers to you, isn’t it your natural response to whisper back? So, Christie and I will be in the hotel room all alone, and she’ll whisper something to me, and I, of course, whisper back. Hmm… maybe you have to be there for it to be funny.
Much Better! (2/25: Lisbon, Portugal)
Today was a much better day. Woke up early, got to Heathrow and through ticketing/security by 9:30, and had 40 minutes to kill before having to head to the gate. Went over to a cafe and got an apple juice with the funniest labelling I've ever seen. Ingredient number one: "3 varieties of apple lovingly hand pressed". I'm not kidding, that's how it was listed on the label. Next, finally found a Vodaphone kiosk and was able to get a sim card for the phone I'm using (thanks Ming!). Board the plane, and get good service: a chicken tikka sandwich and a beer. A free beer. On an airplane, at 11:30 in the morning. Between the juice label, the phone and the flight, this was already by far the best day of my vacation.
After arriving in Lisbon, headed over to the Meridian hotel -- saw the Sporting FC stadium on the way -- dropped my stuff off, and headed down into the Bairro Alto (Old Town) part of Lisbon. Wandered around there, stopped into a Pastelaria (cafe) for a bite, and then walked over to the Baixa (Union Squarish) part of town. Spent a couple hours over there, and then took a cab out to the Doca Santo Amaro area, which I can only describe as the Fisherman's Wharf of Lisbon. Had dinner there, and now back in the hotel, and getting ready to crash.
So far, Lisbon mostly reminds me of Lima, Peru. Very similar sort of architecture, same humid atmosphere, it's a port town, really green, and lots of large open plazas with big ornate statues in the middle. Also, while everything looks very modern, much of it doesn’t actually work (TV remote, wireless in the hotel, etc.)
Regardless, I’ve decided to pretend the last two days never happened. This is the first official day of my vacation, and so far my vacation is going pretty well!
After arriving in Lisbon, headed over to the Meridian hotel -- saw the Sporting FC stadium on the way -- dropped my stuff off, and headed down into the Bairro Alto (Old Town) part of Lisbon. Wandered around there, stopped into a Pastelaria (cafe) for a bite, and then walked over to the Baixa (Union Squarish) part of town. Spent a couple hours over there, and then took a cab out to the Doca Santo Amaro area, which I can only describe as the Fisherman's Wharf of Lisbon. Had dinner there, and now back in the hotel, and getting ready to crash.
So far, Lisbon mostly reminds me of Lima, Peru. Very similar sort of architecture, same humid atmosphere, it's a port town, really green, and lots of large open plazas with big ornate statues in the middle. Also, while everything looks very modern, much of it doesn’t actually work (TV remote, wireless in the hotel, etc.)
Regardless, I’ve decided to pretend the last two days never happened. This is the first official day of my vacation, and so far my vacation is going pretty well!
Saturday, February 24, 2007
This is my vacation? Really? (2/23-24: London, England)
Hey everyone! So, obviously, made it to London safe and sound. Got in yesterday morning around 10am.
Wednesday night (Feb21) I finally got around to packing. This was intentional. See, my plan was to stay up all night, stay up on the flight from SFO to Dallas, and then sleep pretty much the whole flight from Dallas to London, so that when I arrive in London Friday morning, I'll just be waking up and be "on schedule". Everything went fine, until I got to the airport. Weather in Chicago is all screwed up, so there are all kinds of delays. I'm trying to get on a 10:45 flight to Dallas (arriving in London at 8am), I end up on a 12:40 flight to Dallas (arriving in London at 10am). Only two hours, which is no big deal, except I haven't slept all night, so I'm exhausted, starting to get a little loopy, and now I have to keep my self up for two more hours. So, head into the Admirals Club in SFO, crank up my laptop, and try to burn the two hours by emailing/chatting with friends/family and starting to read one of the books I brought with me: "The Age of Fallibility: Consequences of the War on Terrorism" by George Soros. It's gonna be a long 2 hours. Anyway, manage to stay awake for the two hour delay, get on the flight to Dallas and tell my neighbour "don't let me fall asleep... seriously. I start to sleep, wake me up." About 20 minutes later I'm getting poked in the leg "hey, no sleeping". Damn. This happens two or three more times over the rest of the flight, but, generally speaking, I manage to stay awake. Get to Dallas, head to the terminal for my London flight, and they are already boarding. Sweet! Don't have worry about falling asleep in the terminal! So, get on board, and I'm asleep before they even finish boarding.
Land in Gatwick. It worked! It's about 9:45am, and I feel like I've just woken up. Fill out the landing card, get off the plane, and immediately get the 5th degree from customs: Here for business or personal? (Personal) How long are you here? (a week) Who do you know? (Christine Grabyan) What does she do? (works for) Girlfriend? (huh? No. Friend) Are you continuing on into Europe? (Yes) For how long? And on, and on, and on it went. I couldn't believe it! This was the first time I was arriving in Europe clean shaven -- usually I arrive having not shaved for a few days and looking very, very terroristy -- and normally all I get is "Here for holiday? How long? Ok, have fun." This woman did not trust me. Anyway, after about 10 more questions, she finally stamps my passport and says "Enjoy your stay."
So, clear customs, go get my bags, walk out the exit, and see a guy with a little sign with my name on it. That was awesome. Mom, Dad, take note: the guy was there, waiting for me. No "call us when you land so we know when to leave the house", no "wait for us inside, we should be there in 15 minutes", already there waiting for me. Cab driver turns out to be a good dude. Gives me some tips on what the good beers are, suggests that while I'm in Barcelona I go take the tour of Newcamp (where Barcelona FC plays), and gives me the advice "British girls tend to drink a lot, and British girls are trouble when they're drunk".
Finally arrive at Christie's place. Get my bags, pay the man, and go knock on the door. I hear Christie coming to the door, and brace my self for a big hug. "Where are the rest of your bags?" she says through a half opened door. "Umm... good to see you too." And that pretty much set the tone for the next 2 days.
I haven't posted any entries up until now, because I really haven't had anything to say. I got to Christie's around noon on Friday. Brushed my teeth, took a "french shower", and we stepped out to run some errands for a dinner party she was having that night. Have any of you seen the show "Extras"? You know how Maggie says "hello" as a really exaggerated "Hallooooo" in a high pitched voice? Well, I always thought that was just kind of her thing. Nope. Apparently, that's common. I had to keep myself from giggling when we went in a cheese shop and the women behind the counter straight away said "Halloooo". Anyway, got lunch at the Abbeville Pub (on Abbeville Road, in -- no, not Abbeville -- Clapham). Get back to her place, help her with some cooking stuff, take a nap, and finally get to take a real shower. Her friends come over 6ish, and we hang out with them all night... coworkers, talking about coworker stuff, doing coworker things. It was awesome.
Saturday, Christie was moving from her place in Clapham to another place in West Hampstead. So, in the morning I get woken up by "Hey, my roommate needs to take that bed apart." So, I'm up around 9 -- because my bed is being dismantled -- meander around the house aimlessly for another half an hour while Christie and her roommate are packing/cleaning, and finally motivate myself to go for a run. Christie had previously described Clapham to me as "a cross between the Marina and Noe Valley". It didn't really occur to me what that meant until I went for my run. Clapham Common is about three blocks from Christie's place, and about two miles around. Several things stood out to me: 1) I had forgotten just how much I hate running on concrete, 2) there were a bunch of other people out running, and, myself not with standing, not one of them wasn't white; and I swear more than a couple people looked at me funny as we passed each other. I thought there were supposed to be tons of Indians and other minorities in London? Apparently, just not in Clapham -- it's the Marina! 3) in addition to all the runners, there were lots of people pushing strollers. I guess that's the Noe part. Anyway, once my shins adjusted to the concrete (did I mention I hate running on concrete?), I roll off the two miles, head back to the house, clean up, and get to work helping with the moving. Once we finish with that, around 4pm, we (Christie, myself, and her friend Aiden) head to a pub in West Hampstead Village for dinner, walk back, and Aiden and I sit down to watch rugby while Christie unpacks. Around 8 I get a little stir crazy, so I head out the door for a walk. Get back around 9:30, Aiden leaves, and I crash on the couch.
I've been in London for 48 hours, and so far, pretty much all I've done is cook, clean, pack, move, barely had a moment to talk/hangout with the good friend I'm supposed to be visiting, and slept on a couch I didn't actually fit on. On a scale of 1-10, so far this vacation is a 1, saved from negative territory only because I haven't broken any bones, and nothing of mine has been stolen -- moved into positive territory only by some decent beer.
Today I'm heading to Lisbon, so hopefully things will start to pick up!
Wednesday night (Feb21) I finally got around to packing. This was intentional. See, my plan was to stay up all night, stay up on the flight from SFO to Dallas, and then sleep pretty much the whole flight from Dallas to London, so that when I arrive in London Friday morning, I'll just be waking up and be "on schedule". Everything went fine, until I got to the airport. Weather in Chicago is all screwed up, so there are all kinds of delays. I'm trying to get on a 10:45 flight to Dallas (arriving in London at 8am), I end up on a 12:40 flight to Dallas (arriving in London at 10am). Only two hours, which is no big deal, except I haven't slept all night, so I'm exhausted, starting to get a little loopy, and now I have to keep my self up for two more hours. So, head into the Admirals Club in SFO, crank up my laptop, and try to burn the two hours by emailing/chatting with friends/family and starting to read one of the books I brought with me: "The Age of Fallibility: Consequences of the War on Terrorism" by George Soros. It's gonna be a long 2 hours. Anyway, manage to stay awake for the two hour delay, get on the flight to Dallas and tell my neighbour "don't let me fall asleep... seriously. I start to sleep, wake me up." About 20 minutes later I'm getting poked in the leg "hey, no sleeping". Damn. This happens two or three more times over the rest of the flight, but, generally speaking, I manage to stay awake. Get to Dallas, head to the terminal for my London flight, and they are already boarding. Sweet! Don't have worry about falling asleep in the terminal! So, get on board, and I'm asleep before they even finish boarding.
Land in Gatwick. It worked! It's about 9:45am, and I feel like I've just woken up. Fill out the landing card, get off the plane, and immediately get the 5th degree from customs: Here for business or personal? (Personal) How long are you here? (a week) Who do you know? (Christine Grabyan) What does she do? (works for
So, clear customs, go get my bags, walk out the exit, and see a guy with a little sign with my name on it. That was awesome. Mom, Dad, take note: the guy was there, waiting for me. No "call us when you land so we know when to leave the house", no "wait for us inside, we should be there in 15 minutes", already there waiting for me. Cab driver turns out to be a good dude. Gives me some tips on what the good beers are, suggests that while I'm in Barcelona I go take the tour of Newcamp (where Barcelona FC plays), and gives me the advice "British girls tend to drink a lot, and British girls are trouble when they're drunk".
Finally arrive at Christie's place. Get my bags, pay the man, and go knock on the door. I hear Christie coming to the door, and brace my self for a big hug. "Where are the rest of your bags?" she says through a half opened door. "Umm... good to see you too." And that pretty much set the tone for the next 2 days.
I haven't posted any entries up until now, because I really haven't had anything to say. I got to Christie's around noon on Friday. Brushed my teeth, took a "french shower", and we stepped out to run some errands for a dinner party she was having that night. Have any of you seen the show "Extras"? You know how Maggie says "hello" as a really exaggerated "Hallooooo" in a high pitched voice? Well, I always thought that was just kind of her thing. Nope. Apparently, that's common. I had to keep myself from giggling when we went in a cheese shop and the women behind the counter straight away said "Halloooo". Anyway, got lunch at the Abbeville Pub (on Abbeville Road, in -- no, not Abbeville -- Clapham). Get back to her place, help her with some cooking stuff, take a nap, and finally get to take a real shower. Her friends come over 6ish, and we hang out with them all night... coworkers, talking about coworker stuff, doing coworker things. It was awesome.
Saturday, Christie was moving from her place in Clapham to another place in West Hampstead. So, in the morning I get woken up by "Hey, my roommate needs to take that bed apart." So, I'm up around 9 -- because my bed is being dismantled -- meander around the house aimlessly for another half an hour while Christie and her roommate are packing/cleaning, and finally motivate myself to go for a run. Christie had previously described Clapham to me as "a cross between the Marina and Noe Valley". It didn't really occur to me what that meant until I went for my run. Clapham Common is about three blocks from Christie's place, and about two miles around. Several things stood out to me: 1) I had forgotten just how much I hate running on concrete, 2) there were a bunch of other people out running, and, myself not with standing, not one of them wasn't white; and I swear more than a couple people looked at me funny as we passed each other. I thought there were supposed to be tons of Indians and other minorities in London? Apparently, just not in Clapham -- it's the Marina! 3) in addition to all the runners, there were lots of people pushing strollers. I guess that's the Noe part. Anyway, once my shins adjusted to the concrete (did I mention I hate running on concrete?), I roll off the two miles, head back to the house, clean up, and get to work helping with the moving. Once we finish with that, around 4pm, we (Christie, myself, and her friend Aiden) head to a pub in West Hampstead Village for dinner, walk back, and Aiden and I sit down to watch rugby while Christie unpacks. Around 8 I get a little stir crazy, so I head out the door for a walk. Get back around 9:30, Aiden leaves, and I crash on the couch.
I've been in London for 48 hours, and so far, pretty much all I've done is cook, clean, pack, move, barely had a moment to talk/hangout with the good friend I'm supposed to be visiting, and slept on a couch I didn't actually fit on. On a scale of 1-10, so far this vacation is a 1, saved from negative territory only because I haven't broken any bones, and nothing of mine has been stolen -- moved into positive territory only by some decent beer.
Today I'm heading to Lisbon, so hopefully things will start to pick up!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Itinerary
Here's the final itinerary for my trip to Europe:
2/22
Dept. San Francisco @ 10:45AM
Arrv. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 4:10PM
Dept. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 5:05PM
Arrv. London-Gatwick @ 7:55AM (2/23)
2 nights in London
2/25
Dept. London-Heathrow @ 10:45AM
Arrv. Lisbon @ 1:20PM
Stay 2 nights @ Le Méridien Park Atlantic Lisboa
2/27
Dept. Lisbon @ 6:50PM
Arrv. London-Heathrow @ 9:35PM
3 nights in London
3/2
Dept. London-Heathrow @ 2:25PM
Arrv. Barcelona @ 5:30PM
Stay 3 nights @ Majestic Hotel
4 nights (3/5-3/8) on the road from Barcelona to Paris
Arrive Paris 3/9
3/9
take train from Paris to Les Arcs
8 nights in Les Arcs 1800
3/17
take train from Les Arcs to Paris
3 nights in Paris
3/20
Dept. Paris-Orly @ 10:05AM
Arrv. Budapest @ 12:25
Stay 3 nights @ 11th Hour Hostel
3/23
train from Budapest to Prague
Stay 3 nights @ Sir Toby's Hostel
3/26
train from Prague to Krakow
Stay 3 nights @ Flamingo Hostel
3/29
train from Krakow to Warsaw
Stay 1 night @ Oki Doki Hostel
3/30
Dept. Warsaw @ 10:15AM
Arrv. London-Luton @ 11:45AM
2 nights in London
4/1
Dept. London-Gatwick @ 10:25AM
Arrv. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 2:20PM
Dept. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 3:50PM
Arrv. San Francisco @ 5:40PM
If you've been to any of the places I'm going, please feel free to share your suggestions! If you're going to be in any of the places I'm going while I'm there, let's meet up!
2/22
Dept. San Francisco @ 10:45AM
Arrv. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 4:10PM
Dept. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 5:05PM
Arrv. London-Gatwick @ 7:55AM (2/23)
2 nights in London
2/25
Dept. London-Heathrow @ 10:45AM
Arrv. Lisbon @ 1:20PM
Stay 2 nights @ Le Méridien Park Atlantic Lisboa
2/27
Dept. Lisbon @ 6:50PM
Arrv. London-Heathrow @ 9:35PM
3 nights in London
3/2
Dept. London-Heathrow @ 2:25PM
Arrv. Barcelona @ 5:30PM
Stay 3 nights @ Majestic Hotel
4 nights (3/5-3/8) on the road from Barcelona to Paris
Arrive Paris 3/9
3/9
take train from Paris to Les Arcs
8 nights in Les Arcs 1800
3/17
take train from Les Arcs to Paris
3 nights in Paris
3/20
Dept. Paris-Orly @ 10:05AM
Arrv. Budapest @ 12:25
Stay 3 nights @ 11th Hour Hostel
3/23
train from Budapest to Prague
Stay 3 nights @ Sir Toby's Hostel
3/26
train from Prague to Krakow
Stay 3 nights @ Flamingo Hostel
3/29
train from Krakow to Warsaw
Stay 1 night @ Oki Doki Hostel
3/30
Dept. Warsaw @ 10:15AM
Arrv. London-Luton @ 11:45AM
2 nights in London
4/1
Dept. London-Gatwick @ 10:25AM
Arrv. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 2:20PM
Dept. Dallas/Ft. Worth @ 3:50PM
Arrv. San Francisco @ 5:40PM
If you've been to any of the places I'm going, please feel free to share your suggestions! If you're going to be in any of the places I'm going while I'm there, let's meet up!
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