Stockholm, Sweden August 1st - 4th, 2008

We planned a quick weekend trip to Stockholm, as it was one of the cities that had come highly recommended, especially in the summer. We armed ourselves with a guidebook and as many recommendations from friends and acquaintances as possible. As par for the course, we arrived late on Friday night and brought the wet weather with us as we have been doing lately on our short weekend trips.

The night we arrived, it was quite late so we hopped in a taxi and headed to our hotel in Sodermalm, which is south of the main city. We stayed at a guesthouse called The Columbus Hotel. It had a lovely courtyard with tables out front, and was quite cosy when you first walked in. Our room was a decent size, but the furniture was minimal, it was stifling, and had two twin beds. The biggest surprise was the bathroom and shower. They were communal and down the hall from the room. After having a good laugh at our surroundings, we went to bed to the sweet sounds of teenagers yelling and laughing outside of our window.

We were on the top floor of our hotel and it was very hot when we arrived. 

We got up the next morning and went for a run along the river. Eric and I like doing this so that we can see more of the city in a short amount of time. The run was a bit hilly, but nice. The breakfast that was waiting was a welcome reward for the run. It was phenomenal. We had a choice of meats, cheeses, muesli, bread, cereal, the works. It was really good and set us up for a great day of sightseeing.

We walked into town and made our way to the marina where we had hoped to catch a boat to one of the 20,000 Archipelago Islands that make up the country of Sweden. The next boat to Fjaderholmarna was a half hour later, so we decided to stroll through the old city - Gamla Stan and explore the narrow cobblestone streets. At noon, and as the rain poured down, we boarded the boat. We arrived on Fjaderholmarna about 25 minutes later.

The island was really cute and would have been a perfect place for lunch on a sunny day. There were a few little shops and restaurants dotting the island. Alongside the commercial posts were pieces of history (an old machine gun, a touret, and chain anchors embedded in the side of bunkers.) An even stranger sight was three old women skinny dipping in the rain in the freezing water. After a quick tour around the island (in the pouring rain) we grabbed some ice cream and boarded the boat back to Stockholm. The skinny dippers ladies were on our boat too. They were throwing back a bottle of shared whiskey. I think I would have needed the whiskey before jumping into the water (with or without a swim suit), but I supposed it helped to warm them up quickly.

Wandering Gamla stan with the Lees 

After disembarking the boat, we saw the main street lined with spectators. We couldn't quite figure out what was going on, so we decided to join the crowd and await whatever was to come around the corner.  About 10 minutes later, amid rainbow flags and whistles emerged a sea of Euro Pride members and supporters. The costumes were hilarious. From really tame (men dressed as women) to Adam and Steve and leather and straps. It was definitely a sight.

Once we'd seen enough, we made our way back to Gamla Stan and to one of the recommended restaurants, Kryp In. A tiny place, it's translation is something like "Trip In." We tried a few traditional dishes and they both turned out to be really good. Some friends who lived in NY and swam with us at NYAC are now living in Stockholm and met us at the end of lunch. We spent some time catching up with Jeff, Asa and their 6 month old baby Kasper. Following lunch, we braved the weather and took a walk down one of the main shopping streets in Gamla Stan.

Jeff, Casper and Asa

The view from the park next to the Vasa Museum.

On Sunday, we headed out for brunch with Jeff, Asa and Kasper. The brunch was amazing! The chorizo/potato and onion mixture with an omelette and salad was delicious. After such a heavy breakfast, we decided to go for a long walk to the Kungsholmen (King's Island). The weather was much better so we spent as much time as possible outside. One of our stops was to the City Hall (where the Nobel Prize dinner is held). Then, we made our way down to the Vasa Museum which houses an old war ship that sank about 100 yards from the harbor on its maiden voyage in the late 1600s. It wasn't until 333 years later that it was pulled from the sea floor and restored to its original condition. It looks just like something Disney would copy for the filming of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. The museum is built around the boat and gives a very detailed history of the materials used in the building, the purpose of the boat and even so much as the people on board. Apparently, the boat was too top heavy and keeled over in a light breeze. That point marked the beginning of the decline of the Swedish kingdom in the Nordics and what is now Germany.

Multiple ways to take your pickled herring.

Jeff and Asa were great tour guides. They took us all around the city pointing out the main buildings and sights. After a few hours, we took a bus to their apartment up in Vasastaden where we were going to stay for the night. Around 8, Jeff, Eric and I headed to another recommended restaurant, The Grodan (The Frog). We tried pickled herring and a few other traditional dishes and caught up with Jeff. We had a really nice time.


Jeff, Asa and Kasper left us after the museum and headed back to her parent's summer house a few hours south. We went next door to another recommended drink place called Josefina's. It was a really cool outdoor space in a rather odd area. We relaxed with a drink and a brownie and enjoyed the setting. The sun finally poked through the clouds as we looked across the water at Gamla Stan.

Our flight was later that night, so Eric and I just spent the late afternoon roaming the city. We stopped at a cafe on the way back to Jeff and Asa's and people-watched. I have never seen so many blondes in one place before. Not only were they tall and beautiful, but they were all seemed so fit and happy.

We had a really great trip and would definitely recommend Stockholm as a quick weekend trip. The weather could have been better, but we made the best of it.

For pictures - click here:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.3jxyamur&x=0&y=-8zx6sx&localeid=en_US

Cleveland, Ohio, USA July 6th - July 12th, 2008

Following the wedding festivities, Eric and I headed to Cleveland to spend the week with my family. Thanks to Scott and Sara, we were able to get a lift back to Ohio as they made their way back to New York.

We spent the week catching up with family, playing lots of tennis, golf, and eating really well. It was nice to be back home again and kind of revert back to being a kid. It is tough only seeing the family every once in awhile now, especially as my niece continues to get older and even more fun to spend time with.

I was also able to spend an evening catching up with my childhood friend, Lisa and her boyfriend John. Even though, we don't get to see each other too often anymore, we picked up where we left off the last time we saw each other. Those are the friendships I know I am lucky to have.

The week went by all too quickly and with teeth polished, eyes checked, a new haircut, and plenty of Target treasures, we headed back to London on the red-eye Saturday night.

We had a great trip, and I was reminded once again, how much I love going back to visit 608 Rutland Drive.

Indianapolis, Indiana, USA July 3-6, 2008

There's no place better to celebrate the 4th of July than the land of corn fields and drive-way basketball. We flew back on Thursday night to join a gathering of many of our closest friends who had gathered in Indianapolis for the wedding of Marisa Meyer and Josh Peters.

We met Marisa in New York when she subleased a room in our apartment at Beta West for a summer (of 2004?) At the time she was a friend of Hopwood's from Palo Alto, CA. Marisa and Josh were introduced at our engagement party and the rest is history.

It was an outstanding weekend. We would have traveled twice the distance if necessary in order to attend.

Pictures from our trip to Indianapolis for the wedding of Marisa and Josh Peters.
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.3yvwem0r&x=0&y=-ym0ype&localeid=en_US

Dubai, United Arab Emirates, June 17th, 2008

The worlds tallest building, the Burj Dubai

Unfortunately this was just a work trip for me (Eric), so Erin wasn't able to tag along. Further, I was only in Dubai from 8am Tuesday to 2am Wednesday so my stay was brief. However, my friend and colleague Jason and I had a three hour break between our morning and afternoon meetings. On most business trips, I probably would have used the down time for a nap or to catch up on email. But this is Dubai, and in the middle of the desert there's only one way to spend three spare hours...skiing!



Ski Dubai is for Experts Only



Jason and I took a taxi from our hotel to the indoor mall where Ski Dubai is located. 15 minutes after walking in the front doors by food court, we were decked out in our standard issue ski pants and jacket (a necessity - who in Dubai would own ski gear?!?), skis, boots, and poles. Off we went up the lift. It was actually a very impressive operation. The snow was decent, the slopes were longer, steeper, and less crowded than I expected, and they even had a ski lodge half way up the mountain. We did about 12 runs in one or two hours (longer slopes than expected, but still not THAT long).



Indoor skiing with Jason between meetings



Another taxi then took us to Burj al Arab hotel, the world's first 7-star hotel - the one shaped like a sail perched on the edge of the Persian Gulf. As we should have known, not just anyone can enter a 7-star hotel...at least not for free. The 70 Dirham ($20) "entry fee" seemed both frustrating and intriguing. If they can charge $20 just to walk through the lobby, it MUST be worth seeing. However, we decided against it as our evening meeting was rapidly approaching and "sight seeing" is not usually an acceptable excuse for tardiness with clients. The driver took us to a public beach next to the hotel so we could snap some photos.

One thing you'll notice in the pictures is the poor air quality. Apparently it is a combo of humidity, heat mirage (it was 115 degrees), pollution, and a sand storm. I noticed that as our plane landing that morning. As most of the other business travelers wisely slept, I was the dork sitting awake with my camera hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the famous Dubai development. No such luck. Too hazy.

Dubai is a very interesting place. They've definitely adopted the Sino/American philosophy of bigger is better over the current European preference for understatement and charm. (I guess it's natural to flaunt what you got.) What seems like hundreds of sky scrapers shoot up from the desert in all directions; half complete, half under construction. The architecture is all safely described as "modern." For example, the 38-story Dubai World Trade Center building was the city's tallest when it was completed in 1979. Now it's ranked #59. For the sake of comparison, the Empire State Building was New York City's tallest when it was completed in 1931 and it's still the tallest today. Even if the WTC towers were still standing the Empire State Building would be 3rd...not 59th.



View from my hotel



The roads are always jammed with cars (a side effect of cheap oil). There is a subway system under construction, but the jury is out on how many riders will take advantage. Any tasks that involve walking in the open air are not perceived favorably.

It also seems extremely diverse in terms of culture, race, religion, ethnicity, dress, economic status, and language. Though everyone that I spoke to used flawless English. The scenery altered between perfectly manicured landscaping and sand or dust. The Saudi clients we met were delightful, as eager to learn about us as we were to learn about them.

I'd go back in a heart beat...especially since there is NO WAY Dubai is going to exist in its current state 20 years from now. It's either going to be thriving in a state closer to "complete" than "in progress." Or it's going to go completely bust because the region's economies simply do not have the fundamental infrastructure to support the boom-style building that's going on right now. Either way, it will be something to watch.

Click the link for my pictures: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.c86ymi03&x=0&y=-b8ss29&localeid=en_US

Barcelona, Spain June 14th-16th 2008



 

For Eric's 28th birthday, it was my duty to surprise him with something fun and unexpected. I am not very good at keeping surprises underwraps, but I was pretty proud of myself for keeping it a surprise until the week before especially since Eric was trying to plan a work trip that left from "secret birthday place."

Eric is usually the planner when we go away for trips, but this time it was my turn to make all the arrangements (including having a plan for when we got there). As it goes, I bought a guide book and tried to map out a plan including recommendations from colleagues, and friends.

We arrived on Saturday afternoon and easily boarded the train into the center of town. The stop turned out to be a bit of a hike from the hotel in the Eiaxample district only because we got lost - because of me. Good start to the trip. Found the hotel - nice 4 star which was a steal - Acevi Villaroel. Dropped our bags and headed off to explore. As it turns out my plan included very little. And soon enough, we reverted back to our old role of Eric leading/navigating and me just enjoying the surroundings.

Las Ramblas

We made our way to Las Ramblas which is a very hectic pedestrian street filled with street performers/human statue art, poultry for sale (yeah, weird), flower stalls, tourist souvenirs and the usual crap. We walked the entire length of it to the end where the Christopher Columbus welcomes one to the Port. The harbor was lovely in the early evening. It was starting to buzz while we were down there especially along Rambla La Mar which is a wooden walkway leading to a separate part of town along the water with restaurants, a mall, and an IMAX.

Deciding that we were both quite hungry (seeing as now it was pushing 9:30), we set off to find one of the recommended restaurants. We stumbled upon it in the El Born region - El Xampanyet. It is a very local, tapas/wine bar with few seated tables and few high tables. It is run by the same family since 1930 and is apparently truly authentic. It was so crowded, and I was cranky so we decided to find someplace else. After what seemed like a good hour, and after browsing many menus, we stumbled into a place called Con K. It was a small, modern looking place that didn't have any tables available until 10:30. So we put our name in and went to a shady-looking bar next door. It was really big, and really empty and the child behind the bar didn't really speak English. But, luckily her mom did and made us a really great liter of Sangria - complete with a Tang like substance. I was desperate for the snacks that they had in a few glass jars behind the bar, but didn't dare ask. I just stared angrily at the couple sitting next to us who were able to ask for them in Spanish.

Around 10:30, we went back to Con K, and ended up having a fabulous meal that was a really great value. Looking back, we both agree that that was by far the best meal we had, and best of all, we just happened upon it! I think the most surprising thing of all was that throughout the meal, about a dozen "parties" were turned away up until 12:30 when we left. People actually were going to sit down for dinner at 12:30!! Eric and I were ready for bed at that point.

Day 2

Nice bike

One of the other parts of the trip that I actually planned ahead for was the Fat Tire Bike Tour. Eric has an obsession with renting bikes when we travel, and each and every time, I have basically said no. Not sure if it is because I am just being a pain or I am scared to get hit by a car. But, on this occasion because it was his birthday and it was an organized tour, I went for it. The tour, we found out, was actually a spinoff of Mike's Bikes which Eric did in Germany back in the summer of 2002. It was a very informative and fun tour that took us to the major sites of the city. Our guide was a laid back "ex Californian" who screamed "surfer." He came to do a 3 month Spanish intensive in the city, but ended up staying because of how much he fell in love with it. Sam, as our guide was called, made the 4 hour trip entertaining as well as educational. We felt like we really got a taste of the history and larger sites . I definitely recommend it to anyone with a short stay in Barcelona who want to see the main attractions and learn a little bit of their background.



Sagrada Familia - still under construction



After the bike tour, we made our way up to the old Olympic park to see the Stadium, the diving and competition pool, and the surrounding structures that were built specifically for the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona. It seemed a bit more dilapatated than I expected seeing as it was only 16 years prior, but still just like in Munich, it was really cool just being there and envisioning what it was like to be walk through the facilities while the competitions were taking place.

1992 Olympic Diving Venue.

We had been out wandering for most of the afternoon following the bike tour and I was a bit tired so we walked back to the hotel and rested for a bit. Around 8:30 we set off for dinner. We had asked Sam what his favorite local restaurant was and decided to check it out. He made sure to point out that it was not fancy, pretty cheap but really good food. To me, that meant - greasy spoon and probably really dirty. Turns out, that is exactly what it was. It was proper Spanish food. I had sole which was pretty good and Eric had a pork leg, which was a proper huge leg that you would see at a fun fair and probably what the cavemen ate. It was an experience and one that I more than fine to see end.

After dinner we headed to the Palau National (national palace) to see the Font Màgica (Magic Fountain) which puts on a spectacular light/sound show with the water moving to the music. The music ran the gamet from classical to the Backstreet Boys. The colors and the movement of the water was cool, but the music left something to be desired. Following the water show, Eric wanted to "get one for the road"so we wandered back towards the hotel, taking a detour to see one of Gaudi's most famous buildings on Passeig de Gracia - Casa Batillo. It is an eerie sight when it is illuminated at night. All Gaudi’s favourite materials are used here, such as ceramic tiles (on the roof) and mosaic (on the façade). In search of ice cream, we ended up a a bar/tapas place. Eric got his beer, and I, the Chocolate Prohibito. Basically the densest, chocolatiest creation ever topped with full on whipping cream. Then off to bed with a brick in the stomach.

Day 3

Gaudi's work in Parc Guell

On the 3rd day, we headed out for a run up to Parc Guell. It was pretty much up hill for 2.5 miles from our hotel. This is one of Barcelona's largest urban parks, originally intended to be an English style garden city. Gaudi's name is written all of this park. It reminded me a little bit of Candyland with the random colorful structures that dotted the interior of the park. It had a great view over the city that extended to the sea.

We made our way back to the hotel, checked out and then headed to the market for our last meal. The market was off of Las Ramblas and it was here that we pieced together a nice haphazard lunch with salami, manchego, fresh fruit, and chocolate covered good-ness. We sat on a planter, enjoyed people watching and buying some kleenex from a lovely middle-aged woman for 50 pence.

Fully stuffed, we made our way back to the hotel using the Metro system (which is very easy and very user-friendly), grabbed our bags and went to to the airport. Eric was flying to Dubai that night so he had to catch an earlier flight than originally planned.

If I had to choose, I would say that this was one of my favorite trips so far. I don't really even feel like we scratched the surface with things to see and do in the city. Next time, I would love to try a good authentic tapas restaurant, spend a little more time at the beach, and continue to drink the amazing Sangria.
Happy Birthday Er, you old 28 year old man.
To see the pictures from our trip. Click here: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.2yl7d0cj&x=0&y=-j183kx&localeid=en_US

Porto, La Sintra, Cascais, and Lisbon, Portugal May 24th-27th 2008

During Rob and Jean's trip to London in May, we took advantage of the second bank holiday weekend and made a trip down to Portugal. We flew on the very stylish RyanAir out of London Stansted airport into Porto. When we arrived we were so hoping to be landing in warm sunny weather, but unfortunately the rain followed us south.

We picked up our brand new Clio at Avis and made our way to Hotel Tuela in the Boa Vista area. It was still quite early so we dropped our bags and headed out to town. What we didn't initially realize was how hilly the city of Porto is. We started our journey down to the waterside and took a long walk exploring the port and all of the little shops and restaurants. The area on the north bank by the tall bridge is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. We're not exactly sure what that means, but we discovered tons of narrow stairways and pathways in various stages of ruin that led from the Duoro up to the center of town. If it's possible for slums to be charming, these would probably fit that criteria.

The north bank in Porto

On the far side of the port along the hillside were all of the big name wine lodges where the drink Port originates. For those who don't know, it is a concentrated sweet wine that is normally enjoyed after dinner. It isn't for everyone (me) but it apparently helps with digestion. And fun fact: Port isn't Port, unless it ages in the wine lodges on the Duoro River in Porto. We learned this as well as many other facts - like Port is actually red wine mixed with Brandy - on the wine tour of Veramina.

Port barrel shippers

The rest day was spent wandering the streets of Porto, shopping and dodgeing the schizophrenic weather. Saturday night we received a recommendation from the hotel for a restaurant down by the water. We took a cab down there but didn't quite make it to the recommended restaurant. Instead, we wandered down an alley and into a small place called Vinhas D'Alho on Muro Dos Bacalhoeiros which seemed to have only fish and fish ingredients in each of the dishes. I was a bit nervous.But, as we sat down and started looking through the menu, I decided to try the wild boar as it looked pretty safe and was not of the sea. Before each meal, and without being asked we received olives, prociutto, bread and cheese. I was in heaven. Salt cod is one of the main specialties for an entree. The food ended up being amazing. The wine, too, was some of the best I've had. Looking back, that was the best meal of the whole trip.

They might not care for port, but the wine will do just fine.

On Sunday, we started our drive down to Cascais and Sintra. I think we got lost a few times but in the end we made it in one piece. We parked in a church parking lot and made the trek down to the city. It was all downhill and steep. After walking around the cute little downtown area, we stopped at a restaurant right off of the square and had some wine and goat cheese with bread. The wine was necessary to get us back up the steep hills to the Moorish castle that sat high atop the hill overlooking the city. The views on the way up were gorgeous and the air show that we caught the tail-end of was also quite a spectacle. The vast stone structure of the Moorish castle was something. The faulty stone work and gale force winds made the various arms that led to each of the towers almost trecherous at times. However, once you reached one of the towers the views were spectacular.

One of the castles at Sintra

On to Cascais, a laid-back beach town about 50 km west of Lisbon. On the drive down we stopped at the most important building in Portugal. It was actually closed but if I remember correctly, it was a cathedral of some sort. It was quite large. Upon arrival in Cascais, the hotel provided lovely views of the harbor and you could tell that in a few weeks time the streets would be bustling with tourists. We didn't get there until somewhat late so we just checked into our hotel and headed to dinner. We decided on a nice little seafood place on the way into "downtown." The food was quite good and again salt cod and halibut were the specialties.

After a soaking wet run along the coast road the next morning, we had breakfast and then decided to stroll through town. The weather was again being quite temperamental and therefore ducking into shops became frequent. I think during our trip we ended up browsing in 5 different Zaras. They were in every town and sometimes there were multiple stores around the corner from one another. But, our Zara trips were worth it! I was looking for a dress for a wedding and found success at the very last Zara. I swear they all had different stock! The sun came out and admittedly the temperature rose in the early afternoon just as we were about to leave for Lisbon. It was cool to walk up and down the narrow cobblestone streets. Jean took some great pictures that really captured the quaint feel of the little streets.

Once we arrived in Lisbon, we found a place to ditch the car and went exploring. In the guidebook one off the places it said to visit was the Bohemian section with narrow streets and cool architecture. After using our sweet map skills we ended up in a neighborhood that we thought was the Bohemian section - although not as great as we had expected. We stopped for lunch at a very local cafe (I use the term very loosely here because I still don't really know what type of place it was. It sold pastries alongside mystery meat wrapped in pastry. That was the one place where I actually struggled to find something to eat.

It turns out that wasn't the Bohemian section at all. It was just some local neighborhood, the name of which we do not know. Oh well, we fit in with the local crowd and no one suspected we were tourists (NOT.) We headed back to the car and ended up driving through Lisbon seeing what we could on the way out of town. We followed a street trolley which we think was a good thing because we were able to see some sights on the way out. I hear Lisbon is a cool city so I think one day we will have to go back and do it properly.

We drove back to Porto as we were leaving the next morning and it was about a 3 hour drive back. We ended up on the other side of town from where we stayed the first night which was good as it gave us the opportunity to see another section of Porto. We were sans hotel reservation upon arrival so we tried a few 3-star places. Rob checked out the lobby of the first option and decided we should probably move on. Jean vetoed the second hotel based on looks alone before Eric even came to a complete stop. Just as we were all starting to lose patience with our fun game, the Dom Henrique had two open rooms and a parking garage right next door...bonus! It was quite late so we just decided to have dinner a local restaurant recommended by the hotel.

The JT bite

We sat down at this local place (and it seemed quite authentic) and were presented with glasses of Port, bread, cheese, melon and prociutto. Yum. No one likes port except Eric so he drank all four glasses and had a nice buzz going by the time they took our order. Dinner was again more of the same - cod, halibut, steak, but Eric decided to be different - as always. He decided to get the octopus, which came heavily recommended by the restaurant owner. Usually when Eric orders something new he makes me try it. This time was no different. The stakes were a bit higher this time because I vehemently refused. I didn't care if I wasn't being adventurous. Octopus is rubbery and revolting. But...Eric threw in a sweetener. If I took just one bite of tentacle (and mind you the piece he put forth had about 8 little suckers and was colored purple from the octi-ink...yuck!) he would buy me two tickets (front row if available) to see Justin Timberlake the next time he was in London. To most this probably seems like a raw deal, but to me eating squid was worth it. It took me about 5 minutes to chew it and a piece of bread as a chaser, but I got it down and it stayed down. I felt like I was on Fear Factor. It was all worth it though. Now, I only hope that Justin doesn't stop touring or else it will have been for naught.

It was a great last meal and a great way to end our trip. The next morning we flew out early from Porto and landed at Stansted where again it was raining. Perfect.

For the photo tour, follow the link below to our pictures and Jean and Rob's. Our pictures actually include a few from a horse race we went to in May called Ascot. We had never been to a horse race and it was quite an experience. I actually came away with a winner on the last race of the day. With that win, we almost broke even! Rob and Jean's pics include their entire trip to London and Ireland as well.

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.4agjf83n&x=0&y=-jn4z3a&localeid=en_US

Le Touquet & Calais, France and Dover, UK May 3rd-5th 2008

Erin entered her late 20s this year on April 16th. Now that I've published that, I'm not sure that's information a man is supposed to share about his wife to the general public, but there you have it. She also weighed herself this morning and the scale read ...... haha. I know my limits.

Anyway, we saved the money we had set aside for birthday cake, party hats, and the balloon-animal-blowing clown and put it toward a trip to France; partly because a 2-person birthday party is just sad and partly because clowns scare the crap out of both of us...damn you Steven King!!!

On Saturday morning, we picked up our rented, steering-wheel-on-the-right, stick-shift-on-the-left, red Renault Clio from the Avis on Old Brompton Road and made a B-line for the M-20 toward Folkstone. Except in London, a B-line is better described as an endless sequence of Ss (esses?), each linked by a series of roundabouts...and of course the streets aren't marked with signs. I immediately sympathized with Chuck Abbey, who had driven us all over Ireland battling similar circumstances last summer. Except I was navigating these narrow streets in a car the size of a golf cart while he did the same in a Ford Transit, which is shaped like, but only slightly smaller than, a mobile home. Props to Chuck.

Erin did not know the details of our trip before we left. In fact, one of the few hints I offered her was that we would be taking a train to our destination (not a lie, as you will see). Since we were lost within, oh, 10 minutes, plus or minus 570 seconds after departing the Avis parking lot, I decided to concede the surprise factor in favor of actually reaching our destination. I handed Erin some maps and told her the direction we would be heading.

We finally reached the M-20 after about 2 hours of touring shady parts of London. After another hour on the highway, we finally arrived at the EuroTunnel train station near Folkstone that would take us and Clio under the English Channel to France. Needless to say, we missed our train. No worries, the next one departed within an hour.

All the cars climb aboard the train

The train process was pretty remarkable I must say. They must fit about 250 cars, trucks, and tour buses on each train. 35 sweaty and claustrophobic minutes later, we arrived in Calais. Amazing. "Please stay on the right side of the road," the recorded voice reminded us as we pulled out of the train.

If London's sign-free streets proved challenging for us, the French side wasn't much easier. Whichever American civil engineer decided to do away with roundabouts, I salute you. I don't know that you needed to leave the metric system behind as well, but if I had to choose, I'll take the Imperial measurement system with NO roundabouts 8 days a week. But I digress...



Erin in the Cleo in the Chunnel Train



I think our guide-book said it best. "If for some reason, you actually decide to stay in Calais..." I suppose I should have known better. Staying in Calais when you arrive in France is like flying into JFK airport, but rather than heading into Manhattan you stay at the La Quinta Airport Express in Rockaway, Queens.

Oh well, lesson learned. We dropped our bags at the Holiday Inn Calais (better than the La Quinta? the jury is out) and headed for the beach. First we stopped at a touristy cafe for a glass of wine (for me) and a Coke Light (for Erin) and half of a Chevre panini each. Saturday was supposed to be our only sunny day of the weekend, so we made the most of it with a two hour beach stroll. It was a little too hazy to see England in the distance (21 miles), but it was still a beautiful day. There were a few old (what I can only assume to be) German-built cement bunkers perched hastily on the dunes over-looking the Channel. Each was the size of a bungalow. It is impossible to imagine what the scene must have looked like in June 1944 for the boys and men on both sides of the beach. Calais wasn't the exact location of the D-day invasion, but it's not far from where it actually took place. And zee Germanz obviously didn't know where the Allies would attack so they scattered their bunkers all along the French coast.

Calais

We could have been on a beach anywhere. We both felt it looked a little like Cannon Beach in Oregon. People in clam-diggers digging clams. Dads teaching their kids how to fly kites. Cold water. We shared a chocolate and coffee ice-cream on the way off the beach and made our way into town. After a short tour, we settled on Cafe de Paris for dinner. It had a hoakie Eiffel Tour logo on the front window so how could we go wrong? I can't remember exactly what we ordered, but whatever Erin had definitely had more chevre.

On Sunday morning we woke up about 10 (now that's vacation), picked up a few croissants from the patisserie and started driving south toward Le Touquet. The town was recommended by a friend from work as the place where Parisians go for their beach holidays. If there's one thing the French do well, it's vacationing. I figured I should trust the experts, and they did not disappoint. Le Touquet ("The Toucan") is made up of a ton of tree-lined streets with small "country homes" leading into four or five blocks of cafes and shops, and then a long sandy beach. After checking into Mercure Grand Hotel, we grabbed a quick bite at the Belgian "Cafe Leffe" on the main Rue Saint Jean, then made our way to the beach for a wine-induced nap. I think we laid there for 3 hours just reading and sleeping. We would make good French people.

We walked around town for a while, then found some tennis courts. Two gruelling hours of bush-league tennis later, we were both dragging. At one point I tried a Raphael Nadal-style slide on the clay court: bad move - strained my hamstring. I'm an idiot. Luckily, I had learned a good cure for hamstring strains...more wine. Dinner was at Le Taverne Royale. I had talked a big game about staying out to take in the local nightlife, but alas, we were in bed by 12.

We awoke for another round of tennis on Monday. (Side note: Monday was a "Bank Holiday" in the UK. On "The Continent," they had celebrated May Day on the 1st of May, but I'm not sure why we had Monday off work. They don't feel the need to assign meaning to all national holidays like in the US, I guess.) We spent some more time on the beach, bought a baguette, some strawberries, and yes, more Chevre. I wonder how many goats were needed to provide all the milk required to make the cheese we ate during our 3-day visit. 2? 3? 10?

Thank you goats.

On our way back to the EuroTunnel, we stopped at the Carrafour in Calais to make the most of our trip across the Channel. This particular Carrafour is a Mecca of supermarkets. It's Costco, Super Wal Mart, and Total Wine & More all in one. It was quite a treat for us, as we are car-less in London, resigned to shopping in our local, narrow-aisled Tesco Expresses for our groceries. We (I) loaded up on enough French wine and Belgian beer to get us through the next few months, hopefully the French customs agents wouldn't search our trunk on account of the rear half of the Clio sagging 14 inches below the front. "Lower than a frog's ass," as Urbs would say. Ha - Frogs...get it?

We missed our train on the way back to England too. Not because we arrived to late, mind you. We arrived the recommended 30 minutes early. It was the endless lines of cars heading through customs. It was like Disneyland or Empire State Building lines, but with cars. We identified the culprits when it was finally our turn to drive through the French immigration station...we had arrived right in the middle of cigarette break time. They would take your passports, walk slowly away, smoke a cigarette, walk slowly back to your car, hand you your passports, then waive you through. Not very efficient. Though they were well-dressed.

White Cliffs of Dover

Pointing out my relay team's plaque.

When we arrived back in England, we took a detour to Dover, the departure beach town for Channel crossing swimmers. We went back to visit Dave and Evelyn, who hosted Werner, Hops, Jordan, Steve, Denis, and me at their trailer park when we completed our Channel swim in 2004. They remembered us vividly...not for crossing successfully, but because we were the most disorganized group they had ever hosted; we arrived in drips and drabs, Steve lost his passport, we only did one short practice swim because the water was so cold, we tried to fatten up at the local pubs to combat the cold water. I can't blame them for doubting us. I've attached some pictures from that trips as well.

Now THAT'S fish 'n chips

The weather was still great so Erin and I were able to make out the French coast from Dover. We did a quick drive through the city, then sat down for a dinner of fish and chips (soooo good in Dover) before making the final drive back to London.

I think it turned out to be a pretty good birthday present, but you'll have to ask Erin.

Pictures from the trip:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.9pp3b6uj&x=0&y=-xkwv4e&localeid=en_US

Pictures from our 2004 Channel crossing swim: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.39wp04fz&x=0&y=63277o&localeid=en_US