Late Arrival in Paris

The train arrived in Paris – Nord about 9:15pm and I reassembled my belongings. There was nowhere to put everything in one place so I'd had to spread it out in the entrance and above my seat. The train stopped outside the station so it was a fairly long walk to the main terminal. By the end of a day of standing in lines for tickets and running around terminals the pack really starts to destroy my shoulders. In Paris I will be getting rid of nearly all my books, about half my clothes, and whatever else I can live without.

After arriving I tried to make a call to Thibault but was unable to because most of the phones were calling card-only phones and the one local coin-op phone I found was out of service. I knew the train stop and the address, I’d looked it up on Google Earth and it was only about .6km away from the subway stop. And it really was, that’s just not the route I went.

Somehow I got turned around, not hard to do when you’re in a city that was settled somewhere around 250BC, growth happened, central planning came later, and there may not be a straight street in the city. After stomping around for a little while I started asking people if they knew the street I was looking for. Unfortunately no one did. I made my way back to the metro stop and found a taxi. Even he thought it should be around there somewhere but put it into the navigation system anyway.

The taxi lets me out at the address and I pushed what I thought was the bell. Nothing happened, I push some other buttons, nothing happened. After a little bit I ask a man walking in my direction if he has a cell phone and if I could give him some money to make a call. He kindly agrees, puts in the number and hands me the phone. I get voicemail. Just in case he is screening I say “Thibault, It’s Brad, I’m outside your address if you get this” and hand the nice man his phone back. He accepted no money.

About 30 seconds later as I’m considering my options the large front door heaves open and an exasperated Thibault flies out. Many hugs were exchanged and lots of “how, where, when” questions were asked. We collected all my gear and headed upstairs where I found that there were a few people waiting for me. His girlfriend and his roommate and her boyfriend we’re all in the apartment and there was an intricately set dinner table where it looked like nothing had been eaten. It was now 11pm.

They had prepared a full French meal, with French wines and cheeses, and even French apple pie (no top crust)! I felt terrible that they had gone to all this effort and then I show up some 4 hours after anticipated. The reception was fantastic and I was incredibly happy to be there. We sat down to eat at about midnight and everything was excellent. We all started to fade about 2am and retired shortly after.

Berlin

First a note on the Hostel I was staying at. I can wholeheartedly recommend the Citystay Berlin Mitte. It is very reasonably priced, has a great central location, friendly staff, and clean facilities. The prices in the 23hr bar/lounge attached are pretty good and they play hip music. By “hip music” of course I mean the music I listen to. The only drawback is that while they have a wonderful courtyard, they fail to enforce the 10pm quiet-time and you occasionally get drunken French girls grunting out classical music until 2am. (name this tune: blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah-blah-blah blah) Still, I’ll be staying here when I come back through Berlin.

A note on prices in Berlin. I’ve been comfortably getting by on 5 euro a day for food and drinks if I choose not to have a beer. That will blow the budget. For about 5 Euro you can stop by a grocery store get some fruit and yogurt and a bottle of water for breakfast (1.5eur), stop at a food stand for some kind of “wurst” – try the Currywurst - (1-2eur) for lunch and then find a hearty Doner Kebap (2.5eur) for dinner. There is no reason anyone should go broke or hungry while you’re here. Of course, you can spend as much as you’d like on food and drinks. I’ve chosen the budget route which allows me to spend some money on the sights.

I’ve chosen to skip some of the major ones. The TV tower just a few blocks away is 8.5eur for a ride to the top. That, in my opinion, is too much for an elevator ride. I’m sure the view is great but I’ll check a postcard for that. The museums on Museuminsel (Museum Island) just down the street are well worth the money if you are interested in Greek or Egyptian antiquity. Although I have no capacity to remember the names or dates of the major figures in any civilization I do enjoy seeing the progression of art and skill through the ages. They have an English audio tour available, which is helpful since nearly all the placards are only in German. However this does mean that you are subject to the artistic interpretation of the narrator. I found her descriptions of some of the sculptures to be way over the top. Such as “you’ll find this figure with her attentive eyes and regal posture absolutely straining against her robes as if poised for action!” Maybe I punched in the wrong number, but the sculpture I saw was a figure, sitting, hands over closed robe, open eyed, and calm. It was an excellent piece, but I was under no impression it was about to hop up and order a pyramid built.

With its great art and antiques Berlin also has its past to consider. It does so tastefully and with humility. I visited the “Topography of Terror” memorial which chronicles the Nazi reign of atrocities from 1933 when Hitler sized power to the eventual prosecution or execution of their many officers. There are many lessons here for citizens of any country. Get the audio tour and listen to the whole thing.

Like I’d mentioned in the last post the wall is down but not forgotten. There are several memorials: Checkpoint Charlie (the American checkpoint in West Berlin), A section of wall near the Brandenburg Gate, another section of the wall at Potzdamer Platz, and finally all the concrete, asphalt, brickwork, etc. that the wall used to live on has been replaced with memorial markers so that as you’re walking you know where it stood for those 28 years.

There are many more exhibits, memorials, museums, and attractions that I had neither time nor money to see. Plan to spend at least a week there to appreciate it.

I’m off to Paris now and will actually (hopefully) be there at the time of this post. My friend Thibault has offered me a place to stay and is willing to show me a French time. I seriously doubt that my high school French will do me any good. I’ve got the basics, but anything more advanced than “may I use the bathroom” will get me in trouble. There’s universal sign language for that anyway (enter: “the pee-pee dance”). So it will be great to have a guide.

Update on the Paris journey: I went to the ticket office in Berlin's main station to get my reservations for the trains to Paris. Yes, you need reservations and they cost money. During the journey from Essen to Berlin I was playing a bit of musical chairs as people with actual assigned seats showed up at the different stops. I only had to move twice but I was always waiting for someone to tap me. Like when you "upgrade" your own seats at a concert, hoping the people that actually paid for those front row seats aren't just stuck in traffic.

Anyway, so the ticket lady gives me a reservation for the first train Berlin to Koln (pronounced like cologne) and tells me that she can't make me a reservation on the Koln to Paris leg. "Just talk to the conductor" she says. "OK, I'll do that" and everything is great. Nice train, first class, little monitors, and food service. When I get to Koln I find the ticket director and show him my Eurail pass and tell him what I was told. "This pass is only valid with reservation, and this train is full, go talk to the ticket center" he says. "OK, I'll do that"

I got the last reservation in the class for my pass... I'm still going to Paris today I'll just arrive a little later.

Walls

"Ich bin ein Berliner" [I am a citizen of Berlin] was said by John F. Kennedy in 1963 as a moral boost to the West Berliners and as an affront to the Soviets who had just constructed the Berlin wall. Separating East from West.

From his speech:
"Two thousand years ago the proudest boast was civis romanus sum [I am a Roman citizen]. Today, in the world of freedom, the proudest boast is 'Ich bin ein Berliner'...All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words 'Ich bin ein Berliner!'"

Then after September 11th, 2001 the French newspaper "Le Monde" echoed that sentiment. Their headline on September 12th read "Nous sommes tous Américains" [We are all Americans].

I've made my way from Essen to Berlin to find an amazing city. With a population of roughly 4 Million people and who knows how many tourists it never feels crowded here. I'd read reports of rudeness like you'd find in New York, and have seen none. Absolutely everyone I've dealt with here has been helpful and, at the very least, pleasant. From the DMV-like attendants at the Die Bahn information stations to the little old lady that picked up the jacket I dropped while walking through a park in Potsdam. I believe she was telling me I would be very cold soon if I didn't have that jacket, or something else. It went on for a little while. I just waited for the pause and said "danke schon" smiling back.

After arriving at my hotel and venturing out on a walk the next day I realized I was staying in East Berlin. I had no idea. I just followed the instructions to get to my hostel and didn't give it a second thought. Other than a line in every bit of pavement that used to be home to the wall and some other memorials there is no sign that this city was divided for 28 years.

There is bustling commerce everywhere, U-bahn and S-bahn to everywhere, tourists, everywhere...

I noted those two quotes at the beginning of this post for a reason. While I found no Berlin wall, I found another wall.

I lost my passport at the Love Parade a few days back. Don't freak out, I've got a backup. I know this about myself, I lose things. So I do my best to have a backup plan or an idea of what would be involved in replacing them. There are many reasons for having a second passport: having a real passport in your pocket when a Hostel asks to hold one during your stay, visiting Israel and being able to then visit Syria, or, you know, dropping it somewhere amidst a mass of people.

I waited to deal with it until I got to Berlin because I knew we had a full embassy here. So I went to visit my embassy and found giant concrete barricades blocking all the streets approaching it. I walked up to the guard booth and when I attempted to open the door the guard made a signal as if he wanted me to show him a pass. Eventually another guard came to the door and asked what I wanted. "American Citizen, lost passport" I said. To which he responded by handing me a small white piece of paper with an address and an underground stop on it. It was the address for the US Consulate somewhere else in Berlin. I thanked him and walked away. I walked past the walls blocking anything bigger than a pedestrian or a bicycle from approaching and made my way to the train station.

I'm pointing out the barricades because I've passed a number of other embassies during my walks. They don't have them and I really don't like that my country needs them.

To summarize... I found the consulate about 12:30 and they were closed (8:30am-12pm) so I had to come back this morning. This time I knew the way and was happy to have another cold-fried-egg-with-ham-on-baguette thingy at the stop for the consulate. I entered, filled out paperwork, took pictures, paid money, and will have my passport in about 10 days. I just have to be back here in Berlin to pick it up at some point. Not a problem, it's centrally located. Now I'm working on what to do with the time in between.

Love Parade 2007

What do you get when you combine 1.2million people crowding a city of 500,000 to dance and party? Well in Germany it's called the Love Parade and it is truly something to behold.

I woke around 9:30 am to get some breakfast and noticed that another of the bunks in the 5-bed dorm I was staying in was filled. Sometime after breakfast we introduced ourselves, his name was Juan Jose (Juan-Jo for short) and he had come in from Madrid for the Parade with a couple of friends. Later he invited me to join the three of them and get some lunch before heading down to the parade. They wore matching red shirts with a white bull on the front, representing the part of Spain they were from, and all three were incredibly nice guys.

We drank a little before heading down to the parade. Some whiskey and coke and a Corona with a Doner Kebab. We didn't see throngs of people heading for the stations so we thought maybe it was slow to start. This is the first year the Love Parade has been anywhere outside of Berlin since it began in the 90's.

After boarding the U-bahn towards BerlinerPlatz we discovered that we were just further out than the rest of the party goers. The next stop on the line opened to the cheers of people packed into the terminal and 30seconds later the train was overflowing. Two stops further and the cheering crowd poured out of the train and we followed. Exiting the station we could hear the music and the horizon was full of people as far as you could see.

We wandered about, taking in the spectacle and then dived in to the center. I started taking pictures and people started jumping in front of the camera and grabbing their friends. What's funny is almost always after they asked for a card showing where they could see the picture. It's funny because a few years back I ran a nightlife website for Portland clubs (R.I.P. PDXCLUBPIX) and that's exactly what we'd do. Snap a picture and hand out a card. I had cards printed up for an easy way to point people to this site before I left so I handed some of those out. To those of you that thought I was shooting for a magazine or online publication, sorry, I'm just a traveler, but like I promised you can see your pictures by clicking HERE.

Everyone I talked to that day was friendly and happy to be there. We stayed and danced and drank until the wee hours and then headed back to the hostel for some short sleep before our respective departures the next morning. Thanks again to my new Spanish friends for letting a goofy American tag along!

Pictures: Love Parade 2007 set on Flickr.com

Learning Curve

You must understand by now that my misadventures are my adventures. Ending up in the wrong place is often as interesting as ending up in the right place. Sometimes more.

So with that said... I find myself at an AOL Kiosk in an American themed bar/resturant next to my indoor soccerplex-hostel. Country music on the stereo and belt buckles and cowboy hats on the staff, including a giant backdrop of Monument Valley behind what I imagine would be the dancefloor on a busier night....

But getting here is the story.

Leaving Antwerp was my first use of the Eurail pass I bought. 3 months unlimited rail travel throughout 18 countries in Europe. After validating the ticket at Antwerp Central I recieved an itinnerary consisting of 4 train changes to get to Essen Germany. It should have taken about 4 hours... There was another option that would have arrived there later but with less train changes (and the insidious "suppliment": extra money for better trains)

In the end both would have arrived about the same time.

I was dozing in and out of conciousness on the first 45 minute leg and phazed in at one point right around the time that we stopped at a station. We'd been traveling about 40 minutes at the time and other people were getting off so I switched into lemming-mode and got off as well.

After the train pulled away the sign on the station was revealed. At that point I realized I had made a mistake. The sign read "Essen." There is an Essen in Belgium also, just before the stop I wanted.

An agent happened to be standing on the opposite side of the tracks facing me. "Rosendaal?" I said, pointing in the direction the train had just gone. He nodded in reply.
"Oops." I said with a smile. He was able to print me another series of connections to get to Essen (Germany) and I went back to the platform to wait the 50 minutes for the next train.

Mistake #2

So after the first goof I had an hour to study the train schedule and, although it was in Dutch, it was making sense. My guesses prooved correct for the next two changes.
Until Venlo.

Upon arriving at Venlo I turtled my way over to platform 3b where the train was waiting (changing platforms requires that you go down a flight of stairs, through a tunnel and up a flight of stairs). It was early and the doors were open so I got on board.

The train started moving early. "Do they leave early?" I thought to myself as we pulled away from the station. As we passed the first stop I recognized the name.

Getting all my gear together and through the doors in my way didn't happen in time and I was still heading in the direction I'd just come from. Oops.

I was able to hop the next Eastbound at the following stop and get back to Venlo, where I waited for the next version of the train I'd missed. During this time I realized I had entered a new country. Not because of any change in the people or architecture, but because the sound of the dominant language had changed. The more gutteral sounds of German were everywhere.

Dutch and German sound similar. I'm told by a Belgian that when the English came to Belgium they heard the language and thought it was German (or Deütch) which was then softened in the telling to "Dutch." Also now with the announcement there was a very helpful English translation which was never present in Belgium.

Arriving in Essen (the right one) I was tired, hungry, and done with hefting my bags around. I hunted for the busses the info booth told me would be needed to get to my destination. After walking around for a little while I decided on a cab with a very nice Iranian exile for the driver. All the streets are closed for the Love Parade tomorrow so we had to take the long way...

Love Parade = up to 1,000,000 people filling the streets to enjoy dance music from DJs on floats. Google it. It should be interesting.

Pictures so far - Part II

Sorry for the delay in getting this second batch of pictures up. I'm always looking to improve so any critiques are welcome.

All pictures are posted on my flicker page:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/digiboom

United States:

Saturday In The Park 2007 - Sioux City, Iowa

RAGBRAI 2007

Plymouth County Fair

Hannibal, Missouri

Wild Turkey Distillery - Lexington, Kentucky

Buffalo Trace Distillery - Lexington, Kentucky

National Corvette Museum - Bowling Green, Kentucky

Charleston, South Carolina

Across the Atlantic:

Freighter Travel

Europe:

Belgium - Antwerp (partial)

I'm off to Essen, Germany in the morning. Gonna give this Eurail thing a go.

Beer, Chocolate, and Waffles

60 days… 11,000 miles… I am finally in Europe. I love Europe. For its small cars, its strange boxed fluids, for the myriad of languages (that I do not understand) heard in every corner and many, many other things.

We arrived in port on the 21st at about 1pm. I spent the morning consolidating the contents of the small duffel into the big backpack. After visiting with the immigration officers that came aboard around and showing them my passport, Eurail pass, and proof that I wasn’t broke, I was welcomed to Belgium.

I was able to call Yves, my host, from the ship and arrange for a time to meet at the Antwerp Central station.

30 minutes by cab and 41Euro later I was at the station. The timing was great and Yves walked up just a few minutes after I arrived.

Yves is an amazing and generous host, I can’t imagine a luckier turn of events than those that put me into contact with him. The first night he made me a traditional Belgian dinner complete with Belgian beer and then took me on a walking tour of the city center. Along the way we stopped into several pubs to sample more of the tasty famous ales.

There is no better way to see a place, especially a very old place, than with a local that truly enjoys it.

The next day I ventured out on my own. When exploring a city for the first time I tend to walk more than anything else. It gives you a street level view of many things and situations you would never see if you hopped on the underground and went directly to your destination. By virtue of my uncanny ability to head in the wrong direction I completely botched the directions Yves gave me and went for a very long walk. Instead of the 20 minutes it should have taken me to get to the Central Station I discovered a route that took me a little over 2 hours, which is absolutely fine by me! We figured out later that night that I probably logged somewhere in the range of 5 or 6 miles for the day.

Even though the weather has been overcast and wet, it is still a beautiful place. I’m incredibly happy to not be able to read the signs or the menus or understand what anyone says to me – until I make my quizzical “I’m sorry?” at which point they deftly switch languages to English.

Across the Atlantic

Nine days at Sea… There is an immense amount of water out there. You see it from the beach and think, “Wow, I feel so small compared to its vastness.” Well that feeling is only intensified when your entire field of view, in every direction, for nine days, is ocean.

I’d anticipated twelve days, but am happy with nine. It is a unique experience especially on a nine hundred foot ship manned by only twenty three people, and one passenger, but it is a long slow ride and the novelty of the water wears off by about day four, so you focus on the people. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to travel by cargo ship, I thought it would be a far more intimate and interesting travel experience.

Beware: long post, some profanity, tense confusion

Day 1 – Getting on the ship:

After sitting at Starbucks for an hour and a half I decided to call the dock agent to see if he had better information about the arrival of the ship. He answered and told me that the ship had docked and that I could come aboard. It took me another 30 minutes to get a cab to this uncharted Starbucks and then to the boat. We returned to the security checkpoint where the guard shrugged her shoulders and said “I don’t know why it’s here so early.”

Driving down the line of massive container ships while looking for MSC painted on the side seemed to take quite a while. But finally we found it. I unloaded my bags from the cab, hefted them up onto me, and walked up the bouncy gangway to sign in and have my ID checked. From there it was a series of narrow hallways and stairs to get to the lift that would take me to my room. I had just enough time to drop my bags and glance at my accommodations before heading down to the Officer’s mess for lunch. This was to be my first “foreign” experience of the trip so far. I sat with the Officers and stared off into space while they spoke German to each other. The food was good and served with a sugary orangeish juice that would make its appearance at every meal after that.

I also made my first serious etiquette mistake of the trip. I haven’t had a hair cut in a couple months and didn’t feel like dealing with it so I had a hat on. In the hurry to get me to my room and down to the mess I didn’t consider taking it off. A short time after I was seated I considered the fact that no one else was wearing a hat, including the Captain. I considered that, at that point, the potential situation was too far gone and left the hat where it was. Some time later when everyone had left the room the Captain turned to me and politely asked “Does your head have a cold?” Being a bit slow I said “I’m sorry?” and he repeated. After the second run through he plainly asked if I would remove my hat, which I did immediately, and apologized repeatedly. (I didn’t wear the hat again for the duration of the voyage, bad hair day or not…)

I learned that we would be in port for the night as they readjusted some containers for more efficient weight distribution. I still had phone reception so I badgered Summer all night, full of anxiety about my pending departure. I’ve always thought she was an amazing woman for putting up with the idea of this trip, I feel it even more so now that she has had to deal with all my neuroses from having started it.

Dinner was interesting tonight; apparently it is some kind of German tradition to have cold cuts for dinner on Sundays. I was the first one into the officer’s mess and wasn’t quite sure what was going on. Usually I like to arrive later, that way I can follow the cues of others. I started out like I was making a sandwich and decided based on the number of bread slices that I should take only one, but I took three slices of different meat. There was some ham and mayonnaise looking concoction in a bowl so I took a scoop of that as well. The salad was self explanatory.

After others arrived and I watched them put their dinner together I realized several things. The ham and mayo was actually a sandwich topping. The other diners spread it on the toasted baguette whereas I ate mine like some kind of potato salad.

The cold cut stack I put together was far larger than anyone else’s. The two men sitting on either side of me took only one piece of meat and applied it to the heavily buttered bread.

I attempted as much as possible to eat like they did cutting the cold cut stack instead of instinctively picking it up with my hands.

After dinner I left with the 4th Mate to do some paperwork, sign off that I understood the security concerns, and knew the general and abandon ship alarms.

After that was a quick tour of C deck where the gym, pool, and sauna are located. The gym is far more outfitted than the ship I was supposed to be on. The pictures of that one showed only a ping pong table and a stationary bike. Here we have 3 bikes, free weights, a dartboard, a ping pong table, and a heavy bag. The pool is saltwater and appears to be about 8 feet deep. Swimming in a saltwater pool will be a new experience for me.

The ship’s steward stopped by to see if I needed anything from the on-board store. I asked for some sprite as the water is drinkable from the faucet. That was when I found out that you can only buy things by the case. So now I have 24 cans of sprite for the next seven days of travel. There is no way I will drink all of it, but I will experiment with combining sprite and vodka…

Day 2 – Sailing away

Strangely, it is the 13th and it is also the day I set off for Europe on this cargo ship. I believe they prefer “Container Ship”. I woke about 6:30am this morning. Sleep was spotty last night; I remember waking up many times but nothing was serious enough to keep me up for long. Before going to bed I watched the cranes moving containers around on the ship. They seemed to focus on the stack of containers just outside the tower, and thus, my room. I went to bed about Midnight and they were all on break. There was no clanking or shaking or crazy buzzing alarm for at least 30 minutes.

In that time I fell asleep in my king bed with a comforter for my sheets and blanket.

This morning we got underway at about 7:40 am. I decided to go breakfast late so that I could observe and mimic if necessary. When I opened the door to the Officer’s mess, I was the first and only one there. The cook asked me if I wanted eggs with tomatoes and onions! How did he know? And the other main course was Melba Toast. I’d never had Melba Toast before so I said I’d like to try it. Melba Toast in case you’re curious, is bread, a thin slice of meat, some type of fruit (mandarin oranges in this case), and cheese, then baked.

Before the breakfast had a chance to make it to me there was a call from the bridge. The Captain wanted me upstairs. I jogged up the seven decks to the bridge and walked out to where the captain was. He smiled and said “Make your fucking breakfast later! We are Sailing!!” He was under the impression that none of this is very interesting. And that watching us turn and head out to sea would be the only slightly exciting thing that would happen for the next six days.

At 10:00 am there is a coffee break for the Officers in the ship’s office. I felt like I was intruding as everyone got quiet for a while after I arrived and poured my coffee. Slowly, conversation started back up in German. I busied myself with all the signs and computers in the room. Eventually the captain arrived and sat at the head of the table. More conversation but now some in English. He told me stories of cargo arriving at one port and being relabeled and picked up at another. That there are clever men that out there just sitting back waiting for their money, and apparently it happens all over the place.

Then we got into a discussion about German football (soccer) and whether or not I’d like to be in the betting pool. Cost to enter: 1 Euro, just pick the winners and the one with the most points gets a case of beer. He said that usually the people who know the least about the teams end up winning, or he’s just saying that so I’ll play. Either way, it’s something to pass the time… Totto they call it, instead of Lotto.

Notes from after dinner conversation with the Captain:

The ship is worth 70billion (seems like a lot, maybe he meant million)
It burns 240 tons of fuel a day. It can hold 5000 tons of fuel.
The engine is 75000 hp and can do 25knots
It currently has 4500 containers on board.
It is 300 meters long and 54 meters wide.

The phrase “You don’t believe” is interchangeable with “I can’t believe” When I figured this out I stopped saying “Yes I do!” Example: Captain “You don’t believe how poor Americans are!” Me “Yes I do!” Let me clarify what he meant by this statement. He and the dock agent couldn’t find a Karaoke machine or a 220 to 110 volt converter while out shopping. When he asked for the 220 to 110 converter he couldn’t find anyone that knew what he was talking about. Personally I fault the dock agent more than the “poor” retail person tasked with finding things not many people in the US ever ask for.

At about midnight after several Vodka-Sprites, I put on my headphones and ventured out to the portside D deck which extends closer to the water than any other deck. The night wind was cool and strong and the sky had more stars in it than I’ve ever been able to see before. With nearly all the ship’s lights off it was black one hundred feet in every direction. The Milky Way ran parallel to the ghostly white exhaust from the ships engines and the whitecaps made by the wake of the ship glowed under the few lights that were on.

Day 3 – BBQ night

The social lubricant of the evening was “Gustav’s Special” (aka. German Jungle Juice)

The captain has been taking me to the holds below the galley for the past two days to sample his concoction. Today 3 bottles of champagne were added.

The recipe is thus:

Coniac ( in unknown quantity), Fruit (mostly fruit cocktail style: pinapple, cherry, grapes, etc…), 3 cases of wine, and 3 bottles of champagne. I believe I paid for one of those cases based on a discussion I had with the captain at lunch but we’ll see when the tally rounds up.

I had the rawest steak I’ve ever had tonight. Now, you must understand, I’m not prone to hyperbole, best and worst are wasted on me, so if I ever say anything ending in “–est” that isn’t a German word, know that I’ve put some thought into it. So when I say “rawest” I mean the edges were brown and the middle was nearly beating. Yet I put it down, as well as some of the spit roasted pig and the shrimp that I believe I improperly peeled.

Then we drank the “Gustav’s Special”. By we I mean the captain, officers, and crew. There was one crew member that I never got the name of that continued to steal my glass and fill it whenever I wasn’t looking… He took it when I was watching as well.

Somewhere in the middle, I grabbed the bottle of Grey Goose from my fridge and offered it up to everyone. The Germans laughed at me. Real Vodka comes from Poland or Russia, not France, according to them.

The Philippinos had no issue with the country of origin once the Captain left. They added it to Gustav’s Special while I held court with the 4th mate and Cadet. We mostly talked about missing our loves. I’ve talked with these men about home and they refer to it in terms of where their loves are. The steward talks of his wife and his1 year old child. The cadet talks of his girlfriend and speaks of the passion that lives in one day in port. The fourth mate talks of starting a family and ending his career as a Seaman. At 24 he knows that his life is best lived in port with his heart a suburb away. I miss my fiancé, my love, and I tell them all about it. I pull out the Archos, and smile proudly as I flip through the pictures.

I miss my girl… My future wife…

It’s 2am again… Breakfast tomorrow is optional…

Day 4 – The sun and the sea

I finally timed the sun correctly so that I could lay out on deck and try to add some color to my skin as I’m easily the whitest person aboard the ship. I’ll probably be the whitest person I Europe until I venture up North, and I mean really north. If I wanted to blend a bit more I’m sure I could venture over to the UK and find some other pale peoples.

So the color of the day is red which will hopefully fade into the tan of my forearms which, while hanging out the windows of the van over 7000 miles, have given up their pastiness. I’ve got a wedding to look good for and that certainly won’t happen if I consume every hearty German meal offered on board. Yesterday I skipped breakfast and still wasn’t hungry by lunch but figured I’d better show up so they didn’t think I was clutching my head in agony all day. I sat down and was served some mystery of burnt meat covered in what tasted like a sweet and sour sauce. As usual I just started eating; now using my fork in my left hand for the duration of the meal. Sorry mom and dad, the manners you taught me have served me well, but this one had to go. The Captain commented the other day about how I ate my steak, cutting pieces then putting down the knife and switching the fork to my right hand. As I’m sure I argued when I was a child “But that’s not how the Europeans do it!” When in Rome…

Day 5 – Keeping Busy-ish

I’ve been reading my books on Europe but can only do that for so long. They are the collections on the whole of Europe so contain mostly tidbits and reference material. I couldn’t bring all my books as the weight of just the things I did bring seems excessive.

I did bring a couple fiction books but feel like reading them would be a waste of the time I could spend working on photos, training on Photoshop, or writing.

Last night the ship really started to roll. I’ve learned what the locks are for on all the drawers. Even with the help of an Ambien I found myself unable to sleep. It was a slow but serious roll from one side to the next. Happily, I’m not seasick, actually I quite enjoy the ride, however, my body isn’t quite sure what’s going on. Maybe it thinks an invisible hand is trying to roll me over so that I’ll stop snoring. Since the Chief Officer’s cabin is just down the hall, maybe he requested this sneaky maneuver. Regardless I found myself awake and gathered up all the loose items in the room, some of which had already made their way to the floor. At one point my full Nalgene of water made a shot for my head. Luckily the pillows stopped it before it made contact with my nose.

I discovered that if I lay in the same direction as the pitching of the ship I sleep much better. I’m very happy at this point that the bed in my cabin is so large. My feet hang off the end when I sleep with my head to port but at least I don’t wake up every few minutes. Finally after sitting up writing for an hour or so and taking a melatonin, I was able to get back to sleep, which I did successfully until about 9am.

5:07pm

No sunshine today and the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees. They’ve taken the water out of the pool due to the rocking of the ship. The captain says we are riding against 12ft. swells, nothing serious, just enough to rock the boat.

I was just out on D deck with my face into the wind and decided shorts are not an option for the next couple of days. There are still no dolphins to escort us.

I’ve been getting homesick in waves lately, wondering if all this was a good idea. I miss Summer terribly and find that I spend most of my time thinking about her and wishing she were here with me or I was there with her. 4 days to go until I can talk to her again. All this time just being “away” is starting to really take its toll.

Somewhere on the E deck I’ve found that the ship sings. There is some kind of harmonic resonance there that always makes me look for a radio that’s on. I don’t know how else to explain it.

I’m skipping dinner tonight in favor of a bunch of fruit I grabbed at lunch, but I think I’ll head up to the bridge later on and pester whomever is on duty to teach me a thing or two about sailing.

7:48pm
N.44. W.44. In the middle of the Atlantic.

Well I never made it to the bridge but the Cadet stopped in to teach me some seaman’s knots. Some of the knots I remembered from the Mountaineering classes I took a few years back but I was rusty and his knots were far more elaborate. The Diamond knot in particular was ornate and functional but was used back in the 1800s. During our discussion I found out that the German Navy has over 500 knots, and doesn’t use them all. Even most of the knots he showed me aren’t used on this ship. They use about four main knots here.

I now know how to tie barrels, splice both nylon and steel braided wires, and make pretty knots for the ladies.

Tomorrow night he’ll test my memory and show me some videos of dolphins chasing the ship.

It’s 1:30 and the Ambien yet again fails to do the job.

Day 6 – A Seaman’s Life

Worked on photos, watched West Wing, and listened to a lot of German “Future Trance” from Sebastian (aka. The Cadet). Spent some time in the gym and running the stairs between decks.

I stopped up on the bridge to see if my GPS readings were accurate for our position and… They were! We’re just past the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

The clouds are a constant low mass at this point, the sun above them just lights up the sky with a ghostly dull grey florescence.

Fire drill today… the Steward came to find me at about 3:50pm to tell me about it and get me suited up and ready for the run. I took my camera but discovered once we had all gathered that I’d left the memory card in the cabin… Oh well, you’ll just have to imagine me in a goofy orange hard hat and life preserver.

People keep asking me if I’m bored yet and when I say “nah” they shrug and say “It’s a Seaman’s life.”

I spent more time with Sebastian tonight learning about what is involved in the Seaman’s school he attends. I saw lots of pictures of immersion suits, fire fighting, classrooms, and an interesting party game played with ceramic and metal capped beer bottles.

Day 7 – Birthday Party

It’s colder today for sure. As we creep up the Northern Latitudes we’ve met a low pressure system that is batting the ship around a bit, 10-12 degrees. The elevator (lift) stops working at 15 degrees. I’ve only been attending one or two meals a day lately so the crew has been concerned about me being seasick. I haven’t felt at all seasick yet despite the rolling of the ship. I just haven’t been that hungry and the meals are substantial enough to last me through the day.

We’ve added a day to our journey. What was going to be the 20th in the morning is now the 21st in the morning. Actually we should arrive in port about 11:30pm on the 20th but I will not disembark until the afternoon of the 21st. The Captain says he will arrange for a car to take me to Antwerp Central where I can call my contact, or just hang out until he gets off work.

At night, while taking some dishes back to the galley I came across a flyer for a Birthday party in the Crew Bar so I decided to stop in. I talked at length with several of the crew about the different ports and types of ships they’d worked on and about which islands in the Philippines would be best for a honeymoon. I learned some new phrases in Tagalog. Just the basics: Good Morning (Magandan Omaga) Good evening (Magandang gabi), thank you (Salamat), I’m sorry (Pasensya Ka Na).

Then some time later I found myself in conversation with an older German engineer. Our topics criss-crossed the superficial and somehow we ended up talking about War. He was born and raised in East Germany nearly ten years after the end of the World War II. He had seen Vietnam from the East German side. I could see him holding back memories with everything he had, but the tears came anyway. Although I’ve had no personal involvement in war and I’m thankful to whatever power there is on high that my father wasn’t directed to Vietnam, I still felt every tear this man shed and wished away his pain. He was struggling through broken English and Russian to explain to me how bad it was. The frustration from not being able to find the words and reliving the memories eventually became too much so we switched to lighter topics and he invited me to his cabin tomorrow as a new friend, so that he could show me pictures of his family.

Some truths are learned only from those who have been on the other side….

3am… time for sleep…

Day 8 – English Channel

I finished processing the bulk of the photos from Sioux City through the Atlantic today; I also fixed the DVD player that the Captain lost a disc in. As soon as people found out that I’m a computer guy the questions always start. I’ve helped with several problems that have been nagging the crew, mostly office related stuff, and the occasional “should I have done this?” It felt good to help out with something instead of just being “The Passenger”.

My new friend from last night and the Cadet stopped by my cabin this afternoon and invited me down to look through photos with them. We talked a lot about where they are from and where I am from. We drank some Becks and I showed them some of the pictures from my trip. They liked the time-lapse from New Mexico to Iowa and were surprised at how many miles, and hours, I took to get from Portland to Charleston.

It was a good afternoon.

Tonight we’ve entered the English Channel which is wide enough that we still can’t see much. I’ve seen what appeared to be a ferry cross on the horizon and I’ve been able to see the flashing lights from the lighthouses on the English side. Birds have started to take up positions on the containers outside my window. Sometime tomorrow night we will be with the Pilot that will guide us into the Antwerp port.

We’ve successfully crossed the Atlantic.

Day 9 – Laundry day

I found my way to the ship’s laundry and washed what I had worn, watched more West Wing and found out that I hadn’t won the Totto. No worries, the steward had and he was sharing his beer with the crew regardless. I’ve really begun to like these guys. I can see where this kind of camaraderie could beat back the boredom of months at sea.

Now that we’re so close to land I’m eager to start exploring Europe, the time seems to stretch again as the anticipation grows.

We dropped anchor at 11pm to wait for the tide to come in and didn’t get moving again until about 3am.

I didn’t get much sleep, either the anticipation or the jarring of the ship as we got underway again, kept me from it.

Day 10 - Belguim

I see land. Lots of smaller ships have taken up positions alongside us and are headed in the same direction.

After we made it through the locks it was only a short time before we made it to the dock. The Antwerp port was absolutely buzzing with activity. The tall yellow container crane-trucks looked like hungry ants carrying food to their queens. Everything seemed to move at a pace twice that of Charleston.

I was on the ship until 4pm so I crammed all my junk into my bag and waited for immigration to clear me. After putting on my pack this time I had the serious realization that I’ll be reevaluating its contents. There is no need for half this weight. I’m loaded up for too many scenarios and what will probably happen is that I’ll end up tweaking my back and not being able to carry any of it. House cleaning time is coming.

I was able to talk with Summer for a while today and get caught up on her life and vice versa. It was incredibly refreshing and felt great just to hear her voice. Nine days is too long. I’m ready for Europe now...

Boat day: Part 2

There may be a lot of posts today.

Brad Pierce: Current Address: Starbucks

The cab ride was fairly short and getting any conversation out of the cabbie, who appeared to have actually fused with the seat, was difficult at best. So we arrived silently at the Wando Terminal security checkpoint where the nice lady informed me that the ship was not in and would not be in until 6pm. 8 hours from now. This was contrary to the information I received yesterday from the Agent for the ship. Yesterday's update was with a high degree of confidence. But things change, and in the freighter travel world, you don't get a call or a convenient text message with an update.

I asked the cabbie to drop me at a Starbucks nearby. And here I am with all my bags and a hot coffee in the corner of a smallish Starbucks. And here I will remain, probably until the sun goes down.

This is my first real exposure to the homeless-backpacker-with-all-his-stuff experience. I’ve tugged around my overstuffed pack for a while in other countries but more often than not, from train to bed was the extent of my lugging.

Now I must defend this piece of rented real estate for the rest of the day. On the bright side, there is internet, power, coffee, and a steady stream of people to watch. Actually it’s pretty much ideal as far as I’m concerned.

UPDATE (11:30am): I just called the Agent to see if I could get some more detail about the 6pm arrival and he told me the ship had arrived and just finished tying up. I'm calling for another cab and will be aboard soon. This will likely be my last post until Belgium, but you never know...

Boat day

I've called the cab to take me to "Port Wondo", it should be here in a few minutes. I'm packed and have expanded my spare duffel to hold provisions for the voyage, Cliff Bars, Peanut Butter Crackers, Liter of Grey Goose, you know, the essentials.

I thought about it last night, and I've been on the road for 51 days as of today and part of me feels like when I get on that ship is when it really starts

Thanks for everyone's calls of support last night, they meant a lot.

Brief Update

It's been 7 days and 1700 miles since my last post and lots of things have happened. My father and I left Sioux City on the 4th and arrived here in Charleston on the 8th. Stay tuned for notes on our stop by Mark Twain's boyhood home in Hannibal Missouri, our visit to the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, the Wild Turkey and Buffalo Trace distilleries in Lexington, the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green Kentucky, and various locations around Charleston.

This is just a quick update since I haven't had time to compose my thoughts with all the driving and administrative this-n-that.

THE VAN HAS BEEN SOLD!!!! I posted the ad on Craigslist upon our arrival and within an hour I was talking to the guy who would eventually buy it from me the next morning. I had about seven other calls and emails the same day. My concerns about being able to move it quickly had disappeared.

With that hurdle cleared, the next was to find out when and where I would board my ship. This is still a moving target. While I know where I will board - Port Wondo - I still am trying to get a solid when. I've called several times in the past several days and the time has changed with each call. As of right now I will be boarding some time on Sunday the 12th...

Freighter Travel is not for everyone. I'm still waiting to find out if it's for me. After talking with my grandfather, during my time in Sioux City, I'm thinking it may be a bumpier ride than I expected. I've got some expired Dramamine patches but hopefully I won't need them.

So for now I'm in Charleston, and it's hot, stupid hot, and humid, like heat index of 119 degrees. We're keeping busy visiting WWII Aircraft Carriers and gazing at the Atlantic ocean.

Stay tuned for more... soon...

Time to go...

Well, tomorrow morning my father and I head off for the East coast. Several things have changed in the past few days that make this a little more exciting than it was before. My cargo departure has changed yet again. Now instead of leaving from Savannah, GA on the 12th I'm leaving from Charleston, SC on the 10th, at 10am. This creates a few wrinkles...

We are now going to have to compress our leisurely stroll across the American Southeast from nine days to six. Originally I had budgeted two days to find a buyer for the van in Savannah, now I'm going to have to pull it off in one day in Charleston. Plus, I have yet to receive any information on where I'm to meet my ship.

I've spent the past two days doing all the things I should have been doing for the past several weeks. I got pretty complacent in my time here, but I think I'll be ok. I've been packing and unpacking my bag trying to make everything fit. I didn't realize how much I'd relied on the van for the extra goodies that are now making my bag weak in the seams. I'm wondering now how much of this stuff I'll actually need. Odds are I'll be getting rid of some of the more useless items during my first real month on the road. Either that or I'll get a lot more efficient at packing them.

I'll try and weigh my pack at some point to give you an idea how much all this adds up to. I'm pretty curious myself. One thing is for sure, I'm going to be in a lot better shape by the time I'm done.

In all I've had a lot of fun while I've been here in Iowa. I've met some great people and really caught up with some old friends. This is the single greatest amount of time I've spent in my hometown since I moved away 10 years ago. Any time before this was long enough to go out for drinks and thats about it. This time I got to really spend some time with friends and family. One night on my oldest friends porch he said to me "It's been nice getting to know you again." It's rare to have friends that are willing to change with you and give you the chance to be different than when you used to spend all that time together. Those are the friends you need to make sure you know for the rest of your life. I'm very fortunate to have many of those friends.

I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone I've talked to about the trip over the past six weeks. Your continued support is very important to me. It has helped nudge me through my doubts and worries. I'd like to thank my parents for basically letting me move back in and feeding me. I'm thankful I got to spend the time with you that I did. And there is one person in particular I have to thank above all others. Summer, I couldn't do this without your support, I'm very lucky to have you in my life. I love you very much.

I'm on the move again...