Firenze

After nearly a week of traveling, I’d never thought the words, “I’m stoked to be back in the Geneve” would ever come out of my mouth, but much to my chagrin, they did.  As a broad overview before I give you an in-depth explanation of everything that I managed to survive through, I believe that I successfully conquered Italy. My travels were full of big churches, priceless pieces of art, hoboes selling hats, night trains, getting photographically assaulted, party lines in the blue grotto, and Memento.

While my initial travel plans intended to take me northward towards Austria, the allure of the beaches of Capri following Florence and Venice proved too much for my commitment to my previous plans.  As a result, I spent about a week traveling about Italy, and I could not be happier with my decision to deviate from the plan and do something else.

The train ride was enjoyable.  I discovered spades and all its glory.  Debbie and Rhonda accepted food from strange Italian folks, who looked like they felt sorry for them.  Frankly, I felt sorry for them too.  Who eats a half eaten ice cream bar from some strange Italian man on a train in Europe?  Who does that?  Debbie does, that’s who. 

Florence was and still is my favorite city in Italy.  No picture of the Duomo can do it justice.  I got to see my favorite piece of art of all-time (Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise) and I got to go to my gelato place.  Maybe at one point in time, you can have your own gelato place as well.  It’s a pretty special connection. 

   

                                             

The nightlife in Florence was pretty wild.  Most of the time I was too lost and confused to know where exactly we were. Night one and two was a club with ‘cheap drinks’ by European standards, and it included a guest performance by pseudo-Dave Matthews, which actually wasn’t too bad.  Next up was karaoke, which I may or may not have done.  At that point in the night I’m pretty sure I was just yelling to hear some Wagon Wheel.  Unfortunately, no Wagon Wheel.  But by screaming Wagon Wheel at the top of my lungs, I managed to meet some folks that went to Baylor.  It might have been the happiest moment of the trip, until it was quickly replaced when I saw a souped out Dodge Ram posted up on the streets of Geneve.   

Of course every city has its pitfalls.  These pitfalls included the large amounts of animosity that the owner of the hostel had for us (I pray that none of you have to hear an angry Italian woman yell at you at 7 am).  Also, the endless number of street vendors that attempted to sell us pure crap.  No guy, I don't want to buy that silly hat with fake gemstones or the ridiculous necklaces that I remember making in kindergarten art class.  

I have plenty of time to ramble in the next few posts so I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking for me, partially because I’m exhausted and too busy jamming out to Bryan Adams.

Spring Break (number 1)

Alright folks,

I'm headed out to Florence, Venice, Prague, Vienna, and Berlin.  Try not to be too jealous.  I know I've deprived you of glorious happenings about the Geneve but deal with it.  I'll be around occasionally throughout the next few weeks hopefully uploading pictures and informing you of my trips.  I wish the best to everyone as I go on my temporary hiatus.

Later ya'll.

Deuces,

CM

Scooters and Skates

Europe is interesting in the fact that essentially every type of transportation is used.  The Geneve is a prime example of all of those modes, as people often use their cars, public transportation (buses, trains, etc), and boats to get around.  However, with the good there is always the bad.  The bad, which includes rampant use of scooters, roller blades, and even roller skates is for a lack of a better term, totally Euro.

With the exception of T-Chan, scooters are a non-factor in terms of transportation in the United States.  Yes Miami, think back two years ago and you all probably thought to yourself, “That kid is a totally hipster” or “man, what a goon” when seeing Mr. Chan scoot around Oxford, weaving in and out of throngs of people.  Well guess what? Maybe T-Chan was ahead of the times, or he just belonged in Europe from the start.   Clearly the man below is someone who rides scooters.

Scooters in Europe are annoying.  At first, it was interesting to see people cross through heavy traffic with scooters, but now it’s just a hindrance.  While, I may be a close-minded, lover of all things American, I do respect the comedic value that scooters bring to the table.  Just the other day, I had to pleasure of witness a complete and total wipeout.  Scooter vs. Car doesn’t exactly have the David vs. Goliath aura about it but it provided me with my good chuckle for the day. 

Note to those riding scooters around Geneve: you can’t jump over a car.  When you hit the car and go flying over the front hood, you will be in some pain.  Don’t get up and yell at the car for ‘being in the way’, instead maintain what fragment of dignity you have left and scoot as fast as you can away before the owner of the Bentley you just hit, lays down the iron fist of justice. 

Before I get too disgusted and throw my computer out the window at the exhibitionist couple that lives across the street from us on the Du Lac, I’ll move on the even more enjoyable topic of roller skates.  My philosophy on roller skates is that if you don’t work for Sonic and you’re like the rest of us and not stuck in the disco era, there’s no reason ever to wear roller skates. 

There has been one time on this trip so far that I have cracked and just lost in the middle of the boardwalk, dying of laughter.  This man, Gustav as we call him, not only shared his love for rollerdancing with us but also his love for leopard skin leotards.  This man-thing, graced us with his presence on one fine Wednesday afternoon.  I couldn’t possibly be angry at a man-thing named Gustav struttin’ his stuff in a leopard skin leotard on roller skates.  Why?  I was too busy taking pictures and laughing.  Only afterwards could I really embrace the atrocity that I had just witnessed.  His green fanny-man-pack, and his Jim McMahon headband only added to this horrifying image.  I pray that you someday can see something so enjoyable and awful as I witnessed.

Side note, as I let you get on with living your lives: Notre Dame will beat Michigan this weekend 35-24.  All will be good with the world. (Sorry LP, truth hurts).

Deuces,

CM

Time and Time Again

Bon Soir,

First and foremost I apologize for the time in between posts.  It seems that despite being in a place as gorgeous as Geneva, one can still catch a stomach virus and can make one incapable of exorbitant amounts of physical activity (i.e. walking around outside).

So for the weekend, while my plan was to originally go to Cinque Terra with some of the guys fell through, I managed to find other ways to occupy myself.  A lot of it has to do with critiquing Switzerland.  Ironically, and this may be difficult for some of you to hear, I found some positive things about Europe.  Who knew?  The Swiss drinking water (it’s unconfirmed if it was the water or the smoked salmon sandwich that gave me the stomach bug) is some of the purest water I’ve ever had.  Essentially my weekend consisted of my catching this bug, hanging out by the lake, visiting the cathedral in Old Town Geneva, heading over to catch the Notre Dame-Purdue game—after watching the Miami game of course, and lastly enjoying some Vin Blanc which is clearly the drink of choice in the Geneve region.

I probably spent a combined 6-8 hours of my weekend spent at the lake/beach area reading and catching up on schoolwork…already.  Fun fact though, despite all the time I’ve spent outside in the sun, I’m still super pasty and pale, Casper the ghost style.  I’m looking forward to going to Nice this weekend *hopefully* and getting a little color.  That’s the plan as of right now, depending on if those freaking French decide to get over their strike and get the planes, trains, and automobiles moving once again.  Mom and Dad, be proud, I’m currently ahead, yes, ahead, of my school work and it’s only been three weeks into the semester.  This may be a record for college. 

Anyway, continuing with my weekend, I had the opportunity to go back and visit the cathedral in old town Geneva again, which despite its Catholic architecture and general layout is actually Protestant.  Regardless, the cathedral was gorgeous; the chapel in particular was fantastic.  The stained glass coupled with the sun shining in on the church made it look amazing. 

 

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Now to the most important part of the weekend, clearly, the watching of the Notre Dame game preceded by the Miami vs. Florida game.  The day began with the watching of College Gameday via channelsurfing.net.  From there, we acted like purebred Americans, yelling at the computer screen as Miami led Florida for one quarter, which in all my years of watching football, may be the most fantastic 45 minutes of my watching.  Unfortunately Florida decided to stop sucking and start being Florida and beat Miami senseless. As a consolation prize, I got to watch Notre Dame live at 9:30 pm via slingbox.  Now if you haven’t heard of slingbox, I strongly suggest you look up its awesomeness.  The greatness that is the 21^st century allows people time zones away to rock out to the Notre Dame fight song and collectively yell, “Ohhhhhh” every time Robert Marve gets sacks.  Anyway, the game was awesome, we won, end of story.  On a side note, there’s a circus across the street from the watch party, with lots of animals.  Geneva is weird.  Only in a city like Geneva can you have a circus right across the street from upscale offices and restaurants.  Sweet Europe, you’re so great. 

Of course, over this whole trip, the group and I have been enjoying the classic drink of Geneve, Vin Blanc.  With its sweet flavor and its interesting ability to make people play basketball much better than their actual ability, the Vin clearly must be the nectar of the gods.  If you’re in the states, I can only hope and dream that you can come to Geneve and experience the Vin Blanc.  Similarly to getting Ice’d with the amazing drink Smirnoff Ice (which actually is a ‘premium’ drink in Europe, go figure) the new fad should be getting Blanc’d, just a thought.  The Vin is great, that is all.

vs.

You be the judge

A short preview of what you have to expect in the future:

The ‘Eurostyle’ critique continues, this time in honor of the beloved Tristan Chan and his scooter.  While Tristan has started, or at least attempted to start a fad in the States, Euros are often on their scooters, looking super Euro and super horrible.  Freaking scooters…

Deuces,

CM

'Euro Style'

For the past couple weeks I’ve been keenly observing the Euro style of fashion, and I must say it’s quite interesting.  From the jean capris to the pointy polished shoes, Euro fashion is just horrible.  Who in their right mind would wear jean capris?  Honestly, if you want to wear pants, wear pants.  If you want to wear shorts, wear shorts.  There’s no room for people to be bandwagon fans and get the best of both worlds.  On a side note to those that have slightly hated on my fashion, please remember that I brought maybe two weeks of clothes.  To those that know me well, you know that I pride myself on the horrible color combinations that I can put together.  Just remember it’s part of my charm.

Anywho, as I sit here on the boardwalk of beautiful Lake Geneve, I can’t help but notice all the horrible atrocities that are ‘Euro fashion’.  Some of my friends the other day were cursed enough to see roller skating leotard man traipsing about the park, doing his thing.  It may have been his scantily clad attire, or his classic Richard Simmons-style dance moves on his skates, but he disturbs me on many different levels.  From this point on, we will discuss the intricacies of ‘Eurostyle’ and how amusing it is to look at.  Just a quick preview of my thoughts…

Jean capris

Rule number one….bros should never wear jean shorts.  Rule number two…bros should never wear cut off jean pants.  Lastly, rule number three…bros should never ever, ever wear jean capris.  At what level of degradation must you be at in order to don such a horrible piece of clothing?  Your attire makes Lady Gaga laugh with pleasure, because she’s no longer the worst dressed person in the world.  Make up your mind whether you’re hot or you’re cold, don’t put two hands in the cookie jar.  If you hate on me for having an epic farmer’s tan, I’ll quickly remind you that your pantish things are not attractive, and by not attractive I mean horrible offensive to all things great.  So Mr. Jean Capri Wearer, please stop your nonsense, so the rest of us can go about our business with a semblance of peace.

                                                                       BAD                        

      

                                                                         GOOD

By the way, our residence hall director, J.D. aka Florence Nightengale, is look totally Euro today, and it’s horribly offensive.  He can take his V-neck and his pointy shoes elsewhere.  There’s no room for his nonsense here.

That’s all for now.  I dragged Kelsey out into the cold to get internet, and now she’s demanding to go inside before we get pneumonia, which is a good idea in actuality.

Deuces,

CM