McMillan's Musings

Capri and the Blue Grotto

2010-10-03T06:33:00.000-07:00

The tail end of our journey takes us to island of Capri off the coast of Italy, about an hour from Naples. If you want the most relaxing two days of your entire life, you should probably go to Capri. Not only is this mountainous island secretly hiding breathtaking views at every bend. I have no need to spew nonsense right now, but rather I'll let the pictures do the talking.

Deuces,

CM

Canals of the Venetian Variety

2010-10-03T05:54:00.000-07:00

Our saga continues as we headed from Florence to Venice. Much to no surprise it was tough waking up at 10 am to get out of the hostel in Florence. It’s actually quite amazing that the woman didn’t try and kill us as we left the hostel. Sitting in the middle of the square looking at St. Croche on a mildly overcast day, while being hung-over (on fruit juice of course) I was able to experience something almost as awesome as Gustav back in Geneve (see green-fanny-pack-leotard man from a few posts below). I guess dancing and using gyration motions in a public square are a great style of dance in Europe, go figure We arrived in Venice, and it was raining. Below are the pictures from about a day and half in Venice.

The best part of the trip to Venice was probably the anticipation that Chris P. and I had leading up to the night train. Who knew that a train could be so exciting. Also, a quick shout out the Australian girls who recommended all the things for Capri.

Deuces,

CM

Firenze

2010-09-24T09:03:00.000-07:00

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)

2010-09-15T19:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-10T06:05:00.000-07:00

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,

Time and Time Again

2010-09-06T11:20:00.000-07:00

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.

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,

'Euro Style'

2010-09-01T03:47:00.000-07:00

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,

Da Rhineland, Yah

2010-08-29T03:28:00.000-07:00

Guten Tag,

I have successfully returned from the Rhineland in which German hospitality was experienced at its finest. First and foremost before I get into my spiel, if you ever have the opportunity to go up to Bacharach or to St. Goar, do not hesitate at all. Our trip is essentially broken down into four distinct, yet awesome, parts.

1) The trip to Bacharach

Like most trips in Europe, we took the train. While it was a little confusing at first, we quickly figured out that the European model of transportation works like clock work. We had four separate connections and we made all of them, on time. No nonsense like airlines in the states bumping your seat. Hell, if you can’t find a seat on the train, sit on the ground and wait for the next stop for someone to get up. Regardless, the trip up was a blur, mostly because we were exhausted from the previous night’s adventures. We arrived in Bacharach around 2:45 pm after leaving Geneva at 6:40 am.

2) Bacharach

Thanks to Mr. Brown we booked a room in a hostel in what is a 13^th century castle…no big deal. We got off the train and wandered around briefly before noticing that our castle was a good hike upward. We made the hike, checked in, got settled, and headed back into town. The town itself is a gem. Old churches and houses tucked around every corner. After hiking up what looked like a deer path, which of course was wunderbar, we headed to the local kabob place for a k-bob. In my previous post I have mentioned the illustrious King Kabob, well ladies and gents, we found Queen Kabob tucked away in a small town in Germany. Huge kabobs that came out to about $4 made our day. After the k-bob and a beer at a local restaurant we hiked back up to the castle, in the rain, mimicking 12^th century French troops trying to invade the castle. It sounded and looked more like the great American action films that Arnold Schwarzenegger, but it was fun nonetheless. We decided that we’d kick it in the dungeon of castle and relax over a few brews, just to pass the time.

3) Da Rhineland Yah

Our adventure on this glorious Friday starts on a ferry leaving Bacharach. We got on the ferry at about 11:15 am and cruised around seeing the sites and the castles (below)

We finally got off about three hours later in Boppard, where some old Roman walls stood. They were old, end of story. The cool thing about them though was the fact that they were the border of the old Roman Empire.

From there we hopped on the train and went to St. Goar where a 11^th-12^th century castle stands and it was in remarkably good shape

After our foray into the castle, things started to get fun. We decided to back on the ferry and head back to Bacharach, but of course we could not leave without sampling some of the fine local brews, that would be a crime against Germany. So, after picking up a few and getting on the boat (thank you Germany for allowing open containers), we arrived at Bacharach and returned to the glorious Queen Kabob restaurant where we downed our sandwich and went for a stroll outside of town.

There we are, three fine American gentlemen, minding our own business when out of the blue we pass this campsite and we here what? Nothing else but Hootie and Blowfish. Being the adventures that we are, we sauntered over to check out what awesomeness this was that Germans loved Hootie, because everyone should love Hootie/Darius Rucker. Inside we essentially find a block party that has moved its way up the Rhine to celebrate nothing else but a beerfest. Fully stocked with copious amounts of every kind of drink you could imagine, they invited us to stay and enjoy in their good times. We stayed, for six hours….(side note: Hostels sometimes have curfews. Ours had one for 10 pm…we missed it…by four hours). Anyway, we stayed, we hung up, we learned a lot about Germans. First, they like to drink. Second, they hate France. Third, they like to drink. For some Godforsaken reason we leave the tent and attempt to wander home. I leave this story at that. I’m pulling a Christopher Nolan on all of you, and you can decide what happens, mostly because I’m tired of writing.

This weekend we’re hitting up Cinque Terra off the coast of Italy for some hiking and some beach action, should be a good time. The following weekend, I’ll be getting my country fix and attending a concert in Gstaad featuring Miranda Lambert, Patty Loveless and Craig Morgan, and some Swiss guy. Should be a good time.

Until then I bid you adieu. College football starts in 6 days and some change, and I’m excited to say the least.

Deuces,

Legendary

2010-08-28T14:13:00.001-07:00

Little Doses of Grace

2010-08-28T14:05:00.000-07:00

Bon jour,

Amazingly, I’m writing to ya’ll only one day after my previous post. I’m surprised and impressed with my ability to even come close to meeting a deadline. Currently, there are a few issues that are really hindering the American folk (us) in taking over this part of the world. Here are some of the issues that we have faced:

Lack of internet
Lack of toilet paper
Unpredictable weather
Lastly, and most importantly, there is little to no access to American sports

While enjoying a tower of beer from the local brewery (yes, even in Geneva, they have beer towers), I was fortunate enough to enjoy WWE Wrestlemania, which for some god-forsaken reason, every single person and their mom enjoyed and showed up to watch.

Anyway, these minor issues are easily thrown by the wayside, when I roll over every morning and see Geneva’s amazing fountain shooting water sky-high, I usually think to myself, “I’m living the hard life”.

From wandering the streets to enjoying friendly conversation with ‘King Kabob’ as we call him (A kabob restaurant owner that loves us for some horrifying reason), Geneva is through and through an amazing place. While you may have to go elsewhere to find the hardcore party scene, Geneva mixes class with beauty.

As for grace, those of you who know me well, know that I’m the epitome of graceful. Much like a swan, only not as pretty. On this trip so far, I’ve managed to fall of a high bar stool in the most classy of manners, bit it beneath a waterfall in the Rhine hard, and lastly and most graciously, run triumphantly through a briar patch

My day today consisted of:

· A long run through the city

· The most refreshing swim I think I have ever taken…why the Swiss haven’t taken a note from Fiji and bottled up their water and sent it out to make tons of money is beyond me.

· Went to class

· Enjoyed a sandwich from a street vendor

· Threw a football (American style, don’t even get be started on ‘futbol’) around in the park

· Shared my words of wisdom with you all

I leave you for now pondering about the awesomeness that is my life right now, despite the fact that I am insanely jealous that most of you are in Oxford without me living it up. Still I don’t regret my decision to kick off my senior year doing this study abroad thing at all. If the first week and a half have been a good indicator of how much fun/trouble I could get into this semester, I think I’ll be okay.

Deuces,

Touring the Geneve

2010-08-23T10:27:00.000-07:00

Hey folks,

Sorry its taken me so long to get back to ya'll. Things have been crazy to say the least. After getting off the plane in Geneva we were shuttled by bus to a hotel where we dropped off our bags and set out for the Alps. The first 4 days were spent in a town of 200 tucked away in the Alps....here's what happened:
[Disclaimer: Internet quality does not allow me to share my many words of wisdom with the world]

A lot of that...and a lot of this:

And a bit of this:

Capped off with this:

Then we decided we should do some work...and by work, I mean take over a city. The Geneve had no idea what hit them, or so we thought.

Initially Geneva, seemed quiet, ordinary, and extrememly upscale. After enjoying many a brew at the lake front, I decided it would be a good idea to take some pictures. And this is what we did:

That's everything so far...there will be more, and more time for me to share my experiences with ya'll. Class is beckoning, which is surprising because living here doesn't exactly make me want to 'do school'

Deuces,

CM

Tanning Spray, Fist Pumps, and Large Muscles

2010-08-17T04:39:00.000-07:00

Waking up at 7:00 am was a lot tougher than I had initially expected. If only I knew what was going to happen later in the day/into the next day, I probably would have stayed in my bed, curled up in the fetal position, dreaming of all things that are American. Here’s the breakdown of my extravagant journey, which in actuality was just a comedy of errors.

Flight 1134: DFW-Newark

Things to consider before discussing the flight/my thought progression:

· Newark is New Jersey

o Jersey Shore is also in New Jersey

· A bodybuilding competition in DFW took place on Friday + Saturday leading up to my Sunday flight

o Muscle tees and spray tans were seen frequent and often near the gate

While boarding I had the distinct pleasure of sitting next to a Danny Bonadouche clone who, as he told me, “got screwed out of winning the award for best abs because he wasn’t tan enough.” Anyway, the flight went off without a hitch until Danny boy insisted on testing my knowledge of the 1^st season of Jersey Shore. As David and the Walnut St. crew know, many a fun night ended with intense Jersey shore knowledge. Unfortunately, I’m ashamed to inform all of my friends and family that I failed wannabe-Danny Bondouche’s challenge and brought immense shame upon myself. According to Danny boy it was a ‘travesty and disgrace’ that I did not know what tanning oil each of the bro-skis used, and I failed to memorize their daily workout routine. As a consolation prize (and I’m not kidding), Danny offered to help me improve my fist-pump. After I showed Danny, the boss man, my fist pump with limited enthusiasm, not only did he burst out in laughter but his crew of muscular bros sitting a row up joined in on this apparently hilarious attempt at mastering the pumping of the fist. His response to me was: “Now listen here brah, I’m doing this for all the guidos and guidettes around the country”. What he did next was one of those moments that happen once or twice in a lifetime, where you literally cannot believe what happens before your eyes. The fearless leader of the wolf-pack, Danny, jumped from his aisle seat, into the aisle screaming, “if you love New Jersey, prove it.” Slowly Danny, with what I learned was perfect form and flawless facial expression, started a fist pump rally (if that’s what you call it) that spread throughout the plane of about 75 people. Surprisingly, the stewardesses on my flight did not enjoy this guy’s attempt at humor and told him to sit down and stop pumping his fist. The flight ended a short 30 minutes later with no more exciting Jerseyisms, much to my chagrin. Danny and I exchanged a handshake and said our goodbyes, and finally I was in Newark.

I was super pumped to wait for 5 hours before our flight boarded for Geneva, which takes us into a completely different story, full of kicking babies, annoyed grannies, and stewardesses getting ‘bowed in the face. Good times were had by all.

People who play with video settings on skype too much....

2010-08-14T19:54:00.000-07:00

Need I say anything?

Preparing to Embark

2010-08-13T19:45:00.000-07:00

It's currently 8:52 Central Standard Time and my life is in ruins. Not only have a failed to pack anything in bags, I've found it more enjoyable to catch up on all the Jersey Shore that I possibly could want to watch before I leave this country. I'm hoping that in the next 24 hours I can manage to throw my clothes and belongings into some organized fashion before my parents forcibly remove me from the U.S. of A. On a side note major props go out to DJ DD and E-Hads for the name, it is probably a little more family friendly than the name I had previously suggested.

Tomorrow, I plan on doing all things that are American. Tristan Chan, Dave, and the Miami summer crew of 2009 will remember it as a day of glory and justice all rolled into fun-filled activities. My preliminary itinerary is as follows:

8:00 am - Wake up

8:15 am - Breakfast/morning swim

9:00 am - Independence Day drinking game (Andy Klausing's special rule on Jeff Goldblum's dad included)

11:30 am - Hair cut action

12:00 - Pack a bit

12:05 - Drink a bit

12:08 - Pack a bit

12:12 - Drink a bit

12:14-3 pm - (pattern continues)

3:30 - pool action/fire off some fireworks

4:00 pm - Happy hour time at the sushi place

*** Side note => One may ask why on a day where I'm enjoying all things American, would I go to a Japanese sushi place? Answer: One of the most American things is finding cheap deals. As a well-educated collegiate, I find good deals, end of story.

5:45-7 pm - Enjoying my iPhone for the last time in 4 months.

8pm - dinner/pool time/drinking time

10ish/8 drinks later (whichever one is first) - trying my best to acquire a great British accent

11 pm - bed

6 am- airport

Then....Europe

Should be fun.

More posts are soon to come, with pictures...hopefully they won't be as horribly written as this one

-CM