HiBAiSHi

I spent the past weekend at Oxford and saw friends from high school that I hadn’t seen in years. Caitie Craumer goes to GWU now and is studying at Royal Holloway, all the way on the other side of London close to Windsor Castle. Matt Franks goes to Columbia and is spending the year at Oxford, and the second I arrived with Caitie he asked if I needed a place to stay. The rooms there are gigantic, and he was nice enough to lend us his floor.

We ate brunch at the covered market, an awesome place about 10 meters from Matt’s dorm. Caitie came with me to go sightseeing while Matt spent the day working. As soon as we got to the Oxford Castle, Caitie’s friend called her and told her about this ball in London that he was going to – so with less than two hours to find a dress and shoes, she set off in the mall and went to get ready for her ball. Ridiculous!

Ray and I visited our friend Josh Parker at Pembroke College who confessed that the first few weeks at Oxford had been so great that he wished he went there instead. Being there for only a few hours made it difficult for me to disagree with him. He gave us a tour of Oxford and showed us the Great Hall where Harry Potter was filmed and at the same time broke the news about Dumbledore’s homosexuality. When we got back, we heard grunting noises from a guy down the hall and he explained that this guy from Cornell (Ever heard of it?) is so strange that once he was watching TV by himself with a bottle of gin and invited someone to come over and watch with him. When that person went over, he noticed that it was a tape of the Cornell guy naked and covered in peanut butter while wrestling with another guy naked and covered in whipped cream. Rumor has it, that was only the beginning of the video. The party hadn’t even started yet.

Afterwards. we went out to dinner looking for a place to go with a group of 15, but realized that due to the rugby finals that day, everything was packed. We settled for a food truck and ate doner kebabs. We went to watch the game and noticed all sorts of “yobs” everywhere, from old guys singing and farting to this creeper who just kept taking pictures of everybody cheering and not watching any of the game at all. Very strange. England lost, to no one’s surprise, and Josh and his friends left to go to a union party while we went to hang out with Matt.

Back at Exeter College, Matt bought drinks and even fixed the lighting and we talked as if we hadn’t seen each other in over two years. Oh, right. Talking to both Matt and Caitie made me realize just how bad I have been at keeping in touch with people form high school, as there became a point with some people who I used to write letters to where everything would stop and we would stop being friends.

Anyway, later into the night while we were learning the basics of Russian from Matt’s friend Joe, the idea came up to go down the trap door in his dorm room meant to serve as a fire exit and climb down to take a cell phone. Just for fun. Of course, security came up and gave us a “yellowcard,” whatever that means. In all seriousness, I think breaking into someone’s room and taking their phone was less offensive to the security at Oxford then stepping on the grass. Only the most prestigious university in the world.

Before I left for Europe, I tried to make a list of places I wanted to go. Of course, I never got around to making that list because I simply didn’t care enough, but I did think about it a little bit. Telling people that I was spending a semester in London was a great conversation starter, and I met a girl who spent a year studying in Germany and told me that I should go to Oktoberfest. It’s world famous and all. So before I even left for Italy, I decided to convince some of my friends to set out again for Munich in late September.

Some things that you have to know about traveling:

1. Always bring enough underwear
2. Don’t pack too much so you can bring stuff back
3. Remember your fucking passport

Before we left, Tai decided to break rule number 3 and had to scramble back up to the flat while we waited in the nearby tube stop. Drenched in sweat, we barely make it onto the District Line (read: caught in the doors of the train) and arrive to find a late Stansted Express that would get us to the airport with two minutes before Ryanair doesn’t allow you to check in anymore (Ryanair, always on time). We actually have to run towards our gate because it’s so far away and fortunately are the last to board the plane. The lesson: bring your passport.

I also learned that Austrian/German breakfast is so much better than Italian breakfast. And the meals consist of infinitely more meat. And Nutoka, what the hell is Nutoka? Unlike in Italy, you only need to order one dish and it will be cheaper (most of the time) and much more filling. I remember leaving every meal in Italy feeling hungry while complaining to myself that “I could make that.” Anyway, we stayed in hostels along the way that all served great breakfast, notably the one in Salzburg that was like a bed and breakfast – the ladies there even served us. Ray would drink seven cups of tea in the morning, then promptly go to the bathroom.

Salzburg is such a nice, quiet city (even though the hills are alive) that we could see the Altstadt in one day with time to watch kids play each other in a giant game of chess. And by giant, I just mean the pieces are bigger. The kids were awful. And apparently, everyone I was traveling with either played a lot of chess when they were young or was the best player on their high school chess team. Of course, just because you are the best player on your high school chess team does not mean that you will get a discount when you announce that you are 19 and the discounted age is 18 and below. Especially when your friends discuss the strategy to pull out ID’s that don’t have an age on them to act younger than they actually were. Needless to say, that’s why we did not see Mozart’s first instruments. At this point in my life, I am glad that I still look young enough to pull off 14 for another ticket later. Did I say glad? I meant to say that I hate myself.

After getting lost the night before and running down a steep hill that morning, all for the noble pursuit of using public transportation on strict timetables, we made it to Vienna. I learned on this trip that Wiener just means “of Vienna,” since Wien is German for Vienna (they can’t pronounce their W’s). And Wiener Schnitzel is NOT a sausage.

Speaking of pronunciation, I learned during this trip that Kassity not only couldn’t pronounce words like “mudder,” “brudder,” “pitchure,” “exatly,” and “bodder,” but she also had no idea what words such as “pussy” or “cock” meant. And anytime before that when she wouldn’t laugh at jokes that I figured must have been too crude, she just didn’t fully understand. You learn a lot about people during vacation.

Some sightseeing occurred in the days thereafter and I saw the not-so-blue Danube as well as the palaces and museums inside the first district. Free on Saturdays, we went to the MAK, a contemporary design museum that had rows of chairs and glass and featured some modern architecture, things I thought I might be interested in, but just ended up being really confused about. At the Hofburg Palace that day, they had a huge sports festival celebrating every single sport in existence. And I mean every sport. Some featured trampolines, some were jet ski-rollerblade based, and some featured the use of a hang glider. So after taking some free power gels (disgusting), we sat down and watched the band play 99 Luft Balloons, fitting because it was in German. And other than Du Hast, that’s the only song I know in German.

After some rousing chess matches in the hostel bar, inspired by the giant chess match in Salzburg, Ray and I awoke at 6:30 am in order to go back to the Hofburg to see the Vienna Boy’s Choir. It was cute, they dressed in little sailor suits. It was the second mass I had ever been to (the first one was in Italy) and also the best one. Even though all of it was either in German or Latin, I felt like I got the gist of it. Plus churches have amazing acoustics. We went to the Haus Der Musik later that morning and went to the Belvedere and Schloss Schonbrunn, which were both incredible. That night we ate at a chain called the Centimeter, which was known for serving a wheelbarrow full of food that would feed five. Ridiculously good.

I accidently booked train tickets that night that were not for a sleeping car, and we uncomfortably slept in chairs that night and arrived in Munich before sunrise. Ray was so impatient that we left for Oktoberfest at around 9am, and lo and behold, they were still setting up. We walked around and were about to leave when hordes of people dressed in lederhosen came out and we realized we had to grab a table or there would be none left. Our goal was to last as long as possible, but as more and more friendly Germans arrived and the drinking song became more and more frequent, we began having trouble after the 3rd liter.

I did learn a few things though:

1. Not making eye contact during a Prost is supposed to result in seven years of bad sex
2. The words to the german drinking song played every other minute or so
3. How incredibly easy it is to steal the 1 liter steins, that even Ray can do it when drunk
4. Not to listen to Kassity suggesting that I go “roll down a hill” after drinking too much because I obviously will do something that stupid and end up throwing up afterwards.

I think I woke up hours later on the hillside (how did i get there? when did everybody else buy candy?) as an Australian girl woke me up. I found Ray passed out alongside me with a trail of puke on the ground next to him. Yucky. Tai and Kassity apparently left us after we said we would be okay and had gone back to the hostel.

The next morning we decided to take it easy and drink a little bit but focus our efforts on stealing those steins for some quality souvineirs. We ate at the Augustiner Biergarten again (great food, friendly germans) and explored the city of Munich during the last day. At the English Garden, old people are allowed to sunbathe in the nude, something I will always remember. Since I’ve been back, I can breathe for the first time, and I haven’t had the energy to do much of anything except sit around and make unhealthy meals. But Ryanair is having a promotion for free flights and I have to think of somewhere else to go ….

Careful.

Back from another vacation. This picture was taken on the hillside below the Bavaria Statue at Theresienwiese during the annual Oktoberfest celebration. Although I may have forgotten some of the events focused around this point, we collectively made off with six steins as souvenirs. More to come shortly.

My friend Mark found out I was studying at Queen Mary, University of London this summer and invited me to travel through Italy for a week before the semester began. I then invited two of my friends who had followed me to England to come with, and we had a group filled with five guys and one girl who had in common only the fact that they studied engineering at Duke but wanted to do the same in another country. So, along with Mark and I, my friends Ray and Tai came with Mark’s friends Zach and Preeyanka, each of whom I exchanged more words in the first hour after landing than I had ever in my time at Duke.

Thus, we flew to Rome, where fresh from his experience studying in Beijing this summer, Ray taught me the words to “Tong Hua.” Seriously. We sang the chorus on the plane a couple of times until people got upset. I knew the song because a friend of a friend had performed this at Lunar New Year my freshman year where he brandished a pair of homemade angel wings midway through the song. This is the same guy that Paul likes to imitate “practicing his transitions,” or essentially making trance beats at different volumes and pretend like he’s opening the door to a club.

Also, because I feel this is important, since I watched Rocket Science a few weeks ago (and enjoyed an incredible California Burrito wrapped in a Quesadilla), I introduced the Battle Hymn of the Republic into the mix. Without any additional infusion of music, these two songs became theme songs – to the extent that Ray spent time at a hostel looking up the lyrics of these songs and writing down every verse. Incredible idea. Long live the South.

While in Rome we stayed in a hostel so far away that it had an ocean view. Kind of nice the first night when we could frolic and play frisbee in the water, shitty the second and third nights when we realized it would take an hour just to get into the city. As soon as we arrived, Irish people we met at the hostel told us that there was this festival that lasted all night in Rome – that they had even stayed an extra day just to experience it. We went out, and crowds of people were walking everywhere… so we tried to find out where the “party” was…. but then we kept walking until some lady felt sorry for us poor tourists and told us that they weren’t really going anywhere, that this was the night that Rome was open later to celebrate the summer. Long story short, nothing was happening and we wasted time walking back and forth. Still, we repeated this the next few days as we walked around all of the touristy areas and stopping only for photos and gelato.

The night before we headed off to Florence, things became fairly tense. Due to the dynamic of the group and people not getting along previously, a conflict arose involving the way the guys were acting around Preeyanka. The next morning we found out that she had decided not to travel to Venice, the last leg of the trip, and would stay in Florence instead with her friend from high school.

We arrived in Florence and actually stayed in a hostel that was very close to the city. It was also really nice and new, filled with Ikea-type furniture. In Italy they have a cabinet above the sink with holes in the bottom and use it to dry dishes. Very clever, those Italians. The ones who stuck around climbed the Duomo that day, despite the fact that Tai was very scared of heights. Later, Mark’s friend met up with us and invited us to his amazing Italian villa that used to be a former church (to the extent that next to someone’s desk is an altar), and came complete with underground passageways and a massive courtyard, for beerpong of course. Over 100 Duke students are studying in Florence right now, which is absolutely ridiculous. No wonder everyone spoke English to us.

After dinner we learned that they tend to go out and drink about five nights a week, as their classes consist of drawing naked women and walking around to the Uffizi and the Ponte Vecchio to make sketches of famous works by Michelangelo or Botticelli, then getting fucked up. I later learned that a liter of wine is enough for one person, and that you shouldn’t have too much more, otherwise you’ll find yourself passed out later. With pictures taken of you. And you’ll end up puking all the way back because it’s a long walk to your hostel. And that Florence is such a small city that you might end up running into the girl who refused to travel with you anymore while you’re almost passed out and puking everywhere. And that when locals see you on the street puking, they’ll offer to buy you a cigarette. Oh yeah, there’s also apparently this terrorist law in Florence that you have to be in your own house at 11:00 p.m. And you need your passport on you. And that I don’t chew my Fettuicini. And that it would have made a beautiful photograph since it was right in front of the Duomo! Too bad you’ll have to imagine this yourself.

Our last destination was Venice, and traveling had taken its toll in the form of diarrhea for Tai and in the form of the flu for Ray. Mark on the other hand just dropped his camera into the Grand Canal. Again, we ended up staying about a 40 minute train ride from the actual city, but at least this time we had our own kitchen and could cook our own dinners, which were the most filling ones we had in a long time. We spent the day navigating through the labrynth that is Venice and ended up finding the Piazza San Marco after numerous wrong turns into small canals. Also, there are an incredible amount of pigeons there. Its absolutely disgusting because their feathers are everywhere, and my fear of birds combined with my fear of airborne diseases meant that the pigeons circling about scared the shit out of me.

Still, it turned out to be a great vacation. I have some select photos uploaded here, but Zach had the camera that lasted the longest (and had most of the pictures), that I still have no access to. I was going to wait, but there’ll be another update about my first week in London. He mentioned that he was traveling with a GPS and was going to put up a website that tracked every step of our journey with a photograph. So maybe there will be more.

Shortly before the end of the school year I convinced three of my friends to fly across the country to visit San Diego for a week, then drive back in a car across the country in order for me to have a car for the summer. When I think about all the failed road trips I had always tried to plan in high school, this was surprisingly easy, especially considering none of us came from the same place. A lot of people have asked me about this later: how I can possibly pick three people I would want to spend a week in a car with? But it turns out that when you’re singing, making jokes, and living in constant fear of a car breaking down… time tends to pass pretty fast.

Ray, my roommate from sophomore year went from home schooling in a heavily Christian home to an all boys’ high school to Duke University, Kilgo Quad, House O, Room 209. He studies math, computer science, and music. He contributed posters of Miles Davis, Snakes on a Plane, and Hot Pretzels to our room. His eyes are always bloodshot and he sports a couple tie-dye shirts.

Eric is a member of the Navy ROTC at our school, an individual I met freshman year in my math class before he dropped out of Engineering. He went to the same high school as another one of our friends, a high school that a random from Torrey Pines transferred to after his sophomore year. Small world, really. Eric seems to try to do things that question his sexuality. He likes making tea, but not drinking it, if you know what I mean.

Jeremy was my roommate from freshman year, an individual who was once a prominent member of the number one Guild Wars guild in the world. I instantly liked him better after I didn’t have to watch him play World of Warcraft 12 hours a day while talking on his microphone. He has a twin brother who goes to Cal Tech. Jeremy overuses words such as “owned” and “epic.” He likes saying “lawl.”

We began on the back of a pick-up truck at 4am; I had actually booked my ticket for the wrong day and optimistically moved my ticket on the afternoon of the actual day, with no charge, and thought I could get on stand-by. I managed to be the second person to land in San Diego and arrived for a week of sunshine and good times. It’s a little strange to be home without going into some kind of soccer playing, burrito eating, high fiving routine, but I was able to enjoy the “normal” attractions by going to the beach and trying to push a river kayak into the water. My friends were really fascinated by Jamba Juice more than anything else, but seemed to enjoy San Diego nonetheless.

Jeremy had a brother who went to Cal Tech that he wanted to visit. We drove off early Friday night with iPods full of hot jams and found the quietest college campus in the country. Nothing but crickets chirping. The most eventful thing that happened that night was when Ray and I were caught urinating outside of their dorms.

The next day, I contacted a nice friend of mine named Peggy whose father was in the business of socks and underwear and we swam in her pool, posed on her statues, and enjoyed her company while she directed us to some adventures in hollyhood. Stay fly. We spent a couple hours walking down the area, waiting in line at Pink’s Hot Dog Stand, and enjoying the combination of beggars and street performers while we marveled at the stars of famous celebrities such as Chuck Norris himself; all the while having randoms from limousines informing us how hot we were and that we really should smoke weed.

I decided that we ought to spend some time in the company of others so we drove across town and arrived at UCLA where I called a few of my old friends and had my friends marvel at the idea of a combination of an ice cream sandwich and a cookie, then playing the ultimate icebreaker game in balderdash. If it wasn’t for that, Ethan and Sophia would have never known that Eric was a teabagging sailor with an affinity for purchasing pink bathrobes. Little did they know that later that night he walked around the Cal Tech campus and tried to flash the quiet little kids, dressed in his bathrobe and a pair of aviators.

We left the next morning towards Las Vegas, broke down when the car overheated for what we thought would be the only time, and wound up going to Hoover Dam on the way so we could make awkward puns and get yelled at by policemen when we wanted to stand on top of trash cans to take pictures. Damn the Dam cops. The night in Vegas was as keen as it always is for many underage gentlemen, and we walked up and down the strip while listening to others suggest that paying $69 for a hooker was way too much.

Continuing our scenic tour of the Southwest, we drove through Zion Park the next day in car filled with an enormous amount of heat, Stepmania on Jeremy’s laptop, and the tune of Young Folks coming out of a recorder that they swiped from my house earlier in the week. Oh yeah, and Jamba Juice. They all loved Jamba Juice. Driving through the Grand Canyon later that afternoon, we braced ourselves as the valve on the front left tire leaked and we had to change to a small replacement tire in the middle of the national park. Oh yeah, and the car overheated again, but this time we had no coolant and were forced to use water temporarily. It wasn’t until we drove 50 miles on a spare that we found a gas station that patched up tires, seeing as we were in the middle of Arizona, and we promptly made up time and drove to Albuquerque.

During the drive the speedometer kept bumping up and down, and the next morning after Eric made us stay in a smoking room in the Motel 76 so he could save $10 (Note: He spent $20 earlier that week on a pink bathrobe he wore once), we found the next morning that the speedometer was permanently fixed at zero and that the check engine light was going to be on permanently as a result. Maybe because we couldn’t figure out our speed, other than timing the mile markers, Ray received a speeding violation driving through small towns in Texas – and was accused of several more violations like being asked if he was smoking weed. The policemen then handed him a really big ticket, because you know, everything is bigger in Texas.

We stayed with my friend Lily that night in Plano, Texas. As soon as we arrived, her father looked at us awkwardly before exclaiming, “beer?” Too bad we had to turn him down. I went to an enormous gym that night so we could enjoy the steam rooms and saunas. Leaving early that morning, we stopped at another Jamba Juice and Ray got Pink Starburst for what seemed like the 10th time. Eric got the same flavor as Ray, of course. Driving to Atlanta the next day to stop at Georgia Tech and stay with Eric’s girlfriend Vanessa, we passed the Mississippi and Eric got so excited that he took a picture of the wrong river (more like a little stream) and was really disappointed that the Mississippi was so lame. I also took a detour and drove through my old home, Birmingham, Alabama and realized I don’t remember much of anything from my childhood hometown.

Eric departed from our journey in Atlanta, after we went to the Georgia Tech gym for more free sauna time, and we drove to Jeremy’s house in Simpsonville, South Carolina. His mom was so nice that he let Ray stay in the master bedroom and bought us all toothbrushes and toothpaste, just in case. We just used our own though. When we left, Jeremy’s mom told us that we were super guys. He was very embarrassed. We stayed at Duke the next night with Tai and his new roommate Mark because summer session had started and we had an excuse to party. I saw some friends that I really didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to… but ended up blacked out in a bathroom for a little bit, then threw up promptly as I started walking home. I woke up later that night thinking I needed to pee, but threw up again midstream. Surprisingly, no one realized that anything even happened.

After that, the trip was over and I dropped Ray home in Delaware and made my way to Richmond, Virginia where I was going to spend the next 12 weeks.