Eighth week of the year--done.

Exciting title isnt it? Thats the best I could do right before I goto bed. So this week was the exciting foray into german health care. You I have four wisdom teeth that have no purpose whatsoever. They�re free loading teeth, using me four fresh blood and a warm place to stay. Well my body is not a welfare state, so they're getting extracted on March 15th. It costs me 10 dollars in copay, pain for a week, and lots of bloody bandages. The oral surgeon here suggested I have only two done at once, but I elected all four just to get it over with, pain be damned. I'm sure to not like the decision the day after.

The health care over here is a socialist system, where everyone recieves and everyone pays--17% out of your check--and your employer pays another 17%. No physicals and no background checks or previous conditions. Just sign the dotted line and you have insurance. Amazingly, appointments are not the norm--you walk in (early if your smart) and wait to be seen for most doctor and dental visits. One day I waited three hours and then left--my patience wore out and I swore at this ridiculous system. The next day I made sure I was there at opening and was seen within 15 minutes. My pocket english-german dictionary was getting a work out--all the doctors speak fairly good english--but receptionists and nurses is a different story. The german questionaires were god awful. I ended up just marking NO to every question. Translating was too damn difficult as half the words werent in my pocket dictionary. Somehow you can get therapeutic massages (so many per year) also covered by insurance--I have to figure that out soon!

Wednesday I finally move into my new apartment and am excited to do so. It does not have a oven, so I went to german ebay and bought a microwave/grill/hot-fan-air oven. It does it all! If you want--you can program it to do all three. When you have 220V outletts more appliances with more power is possible. The grill is a big ass heating element on top that claims you can cook a steak with. Or weinershnitzel. I love the weinerschnitzel. HOw can you not love batter fried steak? mmmmmm.

So this weekend I had nothing to do--so I decided I needed a hobby--something fun i could do/see everyday. I thought a small garden or a couple of plotted plants would be fun (and easy). But then I thought--those plants are gonna die for sure--I sometimes forget to feed me--how am I gonna remember to feed/water them? Lets face it--they would be compost in a month. So I says to myself,'' Self, how are we going to keep those plants alive?'' A cactus to boring for me--not much ever happens. Then it hits me--get fun and cool colorful plants I NEVER have to water! How is this possible you ask? An Plant aquarium of course!! The plants sit in the water--and therefore never need watering---BRILLIANT I think!

So thats what I did this weekend. I setup up a 16g/60L aquarium with over a dozen little plants. Their my new pets. It even has CO2 injection in the water for faster plant growth. How do I manage this you ask? tanks, regulators, refills all cost alot right? You are right--so I didnt do it that way. I did it dirt-ass-cheap method. Half cup of sugar, teaspoon of yeast in a 2 liter bottle--dissolve in water and you have a generated trickle of CO2 that lasts for 2-3 weeks! After a week, I will drop in a couple of siamese algae eaters--tank gets clean and poop fertilizes the plants. All interesting--but a hell of a lot more work than I thought it was going to be--but it was fun being busy with something else besides journals and research proposals. I will get a picture of my new found hobby up as soon as I can. I had a bit of luck too-the pet store guy helping me was a student botanist and spoke english. He said he'd been to florida once to check out the everglades. He thought the swamps were fascinating.....hmmmmm.

Settling in my new found town.

Above, the place where I will churning out research journals like nobody's business.

Below, the place where Terry currently has been sleeping.
Not very cozy, but the price is right.

So after a week of searching, I think I might have finally found an apartment. Its not big by any means, as it is a one room apartment that measures about 20 x 20 feet square with a small kitchen and bathroom. But after living in my the coop house with centipedes, dripping pipes, and crazed medical students, this will be a something to look forward to. Half the apartments I looked at didnt have a fridge or oven, as you are expected to buy those on your own. So getting the place is only half the battle as furnishing it will be the next time consuming chore. I have to seek out the second hand stores that sell used furniture. I can move into the apartment on March 1st, which leaves me two weeks to find another place to sleep.

So last night I was invited to play texas holdem with the students from our lab. Things were going fine until the Ouzo bottle came out. Never heard of Ouzo? It is a liquor made in Greece and I thought it was quite good and lost count at how many shots were done. The following website gives some interesting info on ouzo:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ouzo

So after the poker game we then went out to a russian bar and sampled the high quality vodka. Terry did what inebriated Terry's do, which was basically make a big fool of himself, but a good time was had by all nevertheless. I thought for sure I might have made a big mistake by doing that when I woke up this morning but everyone was goodhearted and the initiation into the Kissel lab was done with quite the success. So much so that two of the graduate students offered me places to stay this morning until I can move into my apartment. I was touched. One of the offers basically gives me a place to myself, because the graduate student basically lives with his girlfriend and does not live in his apartment. So, I now have to a place to sleep with an actual bed. This is good, as sleeping on the lab cot can be a little awkward, especially when someone comes in the lab early and I have accidently slept in.

I also signed up for german lessons at the Volkshochschile--literally, the people's high school. It is the equivalent of community education in the states. My german class starts March 5th. I took the intensive course and so I have it Monday through Friday from 2-5:30. There are six levels of these courses and I was able to test into the second level. Mainly from what I remembered in high school and me trying to be a quick study while over here. If you complete the sixth level, you get a German Language Diploma, which looks good on the resume.

So this weekend I search out the second hand stores, study alot on my new research project, and finally take a shower. The washcloth and sink cleanup is getting old but has kept me relatively clean. If anything exciting happens, you will be the first to know.

Your world traveling, ouzo drinking, lovable and huggable, post-doctorate working man.

Zermatt and Beyond

Quiz question of the day: What is the name of the famous mountain behing me?

I´m glad everyone enjoyed the drunken philosophical dithering. It seems some of the best wrtiers in history were massive drunks (hemingway, dillon thomas) so for one night I indulged and tried both (writing + a few beers). Yes, Yes, I´m going back to my day job.

So after Florence, I traveled to Zermatt, Switzerland. It turns out it is one of the greatest ski resorts in Europe. This combined with me showing up on Friday almost guaranteed me that I was not going to get a room at the hostel..the cheapest hotel in town by a factor of ten. But, I took a chance and hung out around the hostel anyway and got lucky when one of the guests was a no show. I scored a 25 dollar bed instead of having to pay 200 for a 2 star motel.

Most of the ski resorts around europe are taking a huge hit due to the warm winter, but not Zermatt. It is in a higher elevation and has snow on every run. It was the most beautiful ski experience I´ve ever had. It took every once of skill I ever had to ski those powdered mountains though. Training on the Minnesota hills just doesn't cut it here.

The views were amazing. On top of the mountains, you could see, in some parts, the end ski run you were on. Looking down a mile and a half to where you´re going to end up, was surreal---you could see skiers at the end of the run and they looked like tiny stick men. It felt like the game I play when I'm on a airplane with the window seat--how long can I still make out people--then cars--buildings etc.

Some sections on the mountain were just exhilarating. One section was a ridge that had a straight drop off of probably a thousand feet. I skied along the ridge and was awestruck at the sight and also being five feet away from death if I happen go sailing over the edge. Another section had a ski run that bored through the mountain. For about five hundred feet you skied through a hole in the mountain that had diameter of about 7-8 feet (2.5 meters). There were no lights either, so all you could see is the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

Next time though, I bring something better than yellow leather work gloves and rental boots that are 2 sizes two small. The hands were near frostbite, the feet blistered, but the pain was worth it. Also bring goggles--very important for mountain skiing I guess.

I learned first hand that half the fun of mountain skiing is when the slopes close at four and everyone crowds into the smalltown bars. In fact, some bars were outside, and the people loved it.The town was raucous, spirited, and full of mainly people who only spoke english. Austrailians, south americans, canadians, and british somehow all converged on that spot to ski all day and party all night.

I went out with an entourage (10 of us) that included people from argentina, bulgaria, austrailia, swiss, and good ol´ usa. The other american there worked security for diplomats and visiting presidents/senators. The reception guy went out with us (ended up hooking up with one of the canadians too---jerk.)--and I was asking him questions like, How does one end up speaking five languages? cause he did--english, german, french, russian, and chinese. The mad language skills must turn on canadians.

So we went to a country bar (that was the name too--Country Bar) that played OK music. Can you imagine a swiss band that plays country music? Probably not, and your´re not missing anything either. We then took off for somewhere that was more lively. The club we went to had a cement pedestal with different tiers (like a wedding cake). We noted that the drunker one got, the higher they went, and the funnier they fell off. Sadistic, but good times nevertheless. So we danced, did some shots and then we did a drunken march back to the hostel. Not a bad way to end one´s vacation.

So now I enter the daily life again of the employed-working for a living crowd. You must all feel so sorry for me. I have a lot to learn though--like the german language--cause it is getting just a little frustrating at not understanding all those around you. I have to find an apartment too. Once again, not so easy in a foreign language. Either is dealing with the german beaucratic offices for visas, tax cards, worker status, etc etc and the constant forms they give that I dont understand.. A tiny voice in my head keeps reminding myself that I asked for all this--and I kindly tell it to shut the hell up.

So after traveling by oneself for a month, with nothing but three changes of clothes, a purple toiletry bag, small digital camera (once replaced), and a microfiber blanket my mom sewed into a sleeping bag (Thanks MOM!..it was great!) you learn things about oneself ...and others. Things that you half suspected before, or denied and are forced to confront.

I learned I can go it alone, depend on myself and even force myself to have a good time all by myself.

But I don´t want to do it again.

Maybe I had a withering image of myself--the lone traveler--seeing the sights of the world like a rough and weathered hitchhiker. Work for awhile, take a month and go visit a continent by yourself. Fuck that. Traveling by yourself sucks.

When I saw the sunset over the ocean in Zadar, listening to the whale-like music of the sea organ, it was serene, slow motion and perfect. But you need someone--I needed someone, to look over and say something like,''Well holy shit, wasn´t that cool?'' A friend, a brother, a girlfriend..all would have worked. Instead I was taken out of my wonder by slurping sounds-- damn those croatian couples.

I learned that after a month of traveling, with a different city every two or three days, I´m done. No more for me. I don´t care if its all expenses paid. New cities and crazy hostels where all the people snore and have bad smelling feet get on your nerves. Next time I travel, I pick a city and stay there for the week.

I learned you can make friends almost instantly when you buy a cold six pack of beer, offer one to a fellow traveler and ask where (s)he´s been and where's (s)he's going. Keep doing that all night long and soon you have 6-10 crazy people looking to go party like they were all best friends for a lifetime. That was the most enjoyable part of the trip.

I met people from different countries and strange backgrounds who would give the shirt off there back and rent you a boat, even though it was illegal (for both of you). Then I met some americans who were so self-centered, they wouldn´t speak five words to you.

I learned, of the travelers I met, Austrailians were always the most outgoing, and the Chinese would rarely would be socialable. I learned that Indians and Turks are in every country running Internet/call shops and Gyro/Kebab stands. And they are usually friendlier and more honest than the locals. I once left 20 dollars in change at the Indian run Kebab stand--I was so hungry I took the gyro and left without my change back. I went back an hour later realizing what I had done. I figured the chance was small he would admit what I did. But, as soon as he saw me, smiled and gave me my correct change. I tried to give a dollar tip and he wouldnt take it.

I learned I missed my family and friends a great deal, and surprisingly enough, my job doing research. Traveling is great, but it lacked a substantial purpose for me. Traveling around just for the sake of 'seeing it all' was fun, but somewhat baseless. I found more interest in the locals and the people traveling, than most of the tourist attractions.

That wraps up my trip around eastern europe, and the few stops I did in Italy and Switzerland. I´m still trying to get an apartment and am currently sleeping on a cot in the lab and using the communal kitchen for meals. Its not comfortable, but its cheap. Tomorrow (Thursday) is my first official day in the lab. I had to sign contracts today that promised I wouldn´t sell secrets nor make explosives in the lab. I had such big goals too.

So come around every couple of days and I will give the latest frustrations and weird quarks that abound here in Marburg, Germany.

My video from Zermatt, Switzerland is here:

http://www.mosteal.com/video/zermatt.wmv

Pictures can be found at the website:

http://photos.yahoo.com/mosteal

Auf wiedersehen!

Philosophical Philanthropy

Through the hills I went, on a small train in the middle of nowhere. I ended up here, a little village, not seldom visited but for the snow its highest peaks.The signs say welcome, where the people hold out there hands. The snow awaits fresh running and wax gliding. And thats where I will be in a few not so fresh hours. A lonely gliding, wind, cliffs, and cold air. I will enjoy this too, even when a solo shiver passes through.

One goes forth on a pilgrammage to fulfil an obligation of faith or promise. Faith can falter and promises can be obscured. To thy own self be true when either of which happen. He who goes forth does so with not brave ambition, but monotonous footsteps. Like letters, words, and prophesizing poetry, footsteps, paths, and campaigns are not foreseen, but hindsighted with alacrity.

Decide where you want to take you, and only let a tendril of fate intervene. Attitude is all. Talent a ticket. And luck, never liable, always likeable, nevermind the liasons.

Words but not wisdom, advice but not admonition.

Terry

The Milan train station

I am here at the milan train station, basically heading back to Germany as I seem to have a string of bad luck lately. I got fined 70 dollars on Italian train station for not marking my ticket correctly and then my apartment fell through in Germany, so I have to go back a few days early to find somewhere to live. It is cutting the travel plan by about 3 or 4 days but that is life. My last stop will be in Zermatt, Switzerland for one last day of alpine skiing. Ill take losts of panoramic vistas for your amusement.

OK, train is leaving ten minutes and I have to go! Talk to you soon.

Pompei and Naples

Above, me in the ancient roman baths in the excavated ruins of Pompei.

One of the many reasons I wanted to come to Italy was to visit Pompei. Pompei is the city that got completely smothered by Mt Vesuvius (along with others) in AD 79. A scholar known as Pliny the Younger wrote in great detail about it. Because it was covered in meters of ash and stone, it is remarkably well preserved and many of the building are more preserved than any other in that time period. Excavation is still on going.

A fascinating read on the Pompei eruption from the words of Pliny the Younger, in english, is at:

http://www.volcanolive.com/pliny.html

I made a little video while there (cause thats just what Terrys do):

http://www.mosteal.com/video/pompei.wmv

I also went to see Naples. My travel book says it is still ruled by the Mafia. I've never seen a dirter, more seedy metropolis. Garbage was everywhere and I was going to take pics for your amusement, but I thought better of it--not the place to advertise your a tourist. I walked for about an hour from the train station. At which time it started to get dark and me lost. Not a good combination there. I made in back in one piece though and caught a train back to Rome. I might go out tonight--I have to try and find a date for the Roman Opera. In Italy, on HAS to got the Italian Opera. I've been shutdown twice now. Once by the american girls mentioned in vatican post (they already had train tickets to Florence), and once by a tall and dark brazilian biology scientist staying at the same hostel as I. I was doing shots with her last night. She said no though cause she has a boyfriend back home. I guess shots are one thing, and the opera quite another.

So tomorrow, I go see the David statue, and then head to Florence or Venice. I haven't decided. I may just skip both and go skiing in the Italian Alps. That sounds much more fun than museums at the moment. Ill let you know all about it later.

Amervican Virtues in the Vatican

Parental Advisory: Explicit stories near the end.

A visit to the Vatican is a must for anyone in Rome. It is considered its own sovereign nation complete with currency, police force, and government. Of course the Vatican no longer has the papal rule it once had over Europe, but the cities splendor is no less opulant today. The two main tourist attractions are the Museum Vatica and St Peters Basilica. Inside the Museum Vatica is the Sistine Chapel painted by Michelangelo and three rooms painted by Raphael. I didnt expect to be as fascinated as I was.

The paintings alone were something I have never experienced. I lost count at how many rooms are painted in extraordinary detail from floor to the ceiling. The Sistine chapel itself took four years to paint with Michelangelo working on his back 12-16 hours a day. When you finally see it though, you wonder how he did it so fast. A single painting can take an artist months. These were curved ceilings 80 feet in the air and the wall and ceilings probably take up the area of half a football field. You could stare at it all day and not be done. It is all done in scenes from the Bible and I only wished I had enough background of the stories (ironically) to fully appreciate exactly what each scene was portraying. I didnt feel all to bad though as a lazy catholic beside didnt know all them either.

St Peter's Basilica was the real surprise though. I never imagined a chruch covered in so marble, stone, and gilt. Every surface is polished, all the stone statues sit about 12 feet tall and are kept in such pristine condition that they look like they were carved yesterday. I also went down to the Tomb of the popes and you can see the marble tombs that all have life size marble statues of the deceased pope (the one in the tomb) in a reposed position. They were many preying around the latest deceased pope, John Paul II. Outside the Basilica there was scaffolding put up to clean/repair a statue--even the scaffolding had golden gild covering it. I wondered, where does one get golden gilded scaffolding? I'll check Menards on that one.

I ended up traveling through the museum and basilica with three american girls I had met the day earlier. Their names were Leslie, Camille, and Amy and were doing the exchange trip in Spain as a method to see Europe. This week they just happen to be traveling in Rome. They were three goofy girls who liked to chase pigeons and take pics of each other doing so. It was rather comical and they made the whole vatican experience a lot more fun than I anticipated. The icing on the cake was the story they told of the outing they had the night before. Before I relay this story back to you--let me try to set it up in context.

Of the three american girls, one of them, Leslie, was a lazy catholic. In that I mean she made the church trips at all the important holidays and not much in between. Being that we were at the vatican, it seemed only fitting that she do a confessional.

Inside the St Peters basilica, there are confessional booths, and on them there are posted languages of what the priests speak inside. Most are Italian, but if you search a little, you can pretty much find all the most popular languages.

So as Leslie decides to do a confesstional which leaves Amy, Camille, and I for some time to talk a little, in the Basilica, which just might be the most holiest place on earth (for some). So to kill the time,I ask the girls what they did last night, cause when I met them the day before they said they might goto some disco club.

All three went to a Jazz club, but for giggles, they thought they would goto a female strip bar. Being they were cute american girls they got in for free, most likely because the strip bar they went into probably doesnt get many female clientele, if you get where I am going. Upon watching the one female stripper work the stage for about a half hour, there were amazed at how hard the stripper was working. To put this in the most cleanest of terms, lets just say she used various phallic tools in her act, cleaned them with her own innocent lips, and then let the male patrons participate in the use of the said tools, if they were sweet. From what I gathered all touching was allowed, all over. The three girls stayed for this one act, and as discreetly as they could, left when they wouldnt attract notice of the decidedly seedy crowd. Then they went to dance (on the bar) of a Jazz club, were hordes of drunk Italians were pouring shots down there throats. Mind you, I get the whole story in the basilica (the largest church ever made), while one of the three girls is in confession. After a story like that, I think we're all going to hell. Them for participating, me for just listening (except for Leslie, she confessed and is in the clear).

After that we caught the bus back to the hotel. They had to catch a train for Florence and I had to get something to eat. They did give me a kind invitation to come visit them in Spain, with a free place to stay. Spain has nice beaches in the summer, so that might be a great plan. They also have the running of the bulls--which is a must do!

So for dinner that night, I made something a little special. I found a deli with fresh tomato, basil, ultra fresh mozzerala di bufulo (pronounced moooserela). The lady behind the counter wouldn't give me the mozzerala until I said it just right. I piled the mozzerala, basil, and tomato on bruschetta and had one of the best meals yet here in Italy. Fortissimo!

Next, the city of Pompei!

Some Videos for your amusement.

Editing videos in Italian is a real pain in the ass. I hope you all in enjoy the sweat and tears I put in for my viewing audience. Thank god for Indian run Internet/Call centers.


The first is a sunset I filmed in Split, Croatia--with quadruple speed. Nice and serene.
http://www.mosteal.com/video/sunset4x.wmv

The second is a video of me and breakfast on the city walls of Dubrovnik.
http://www.mosteal.com/video/dubrovnik.wmv

The last is me and my boating experience:
http://www.mosteal.com/video/boat.wmv


Enjoy.

When in Rome....

I made it. It took five hours of bus from Dubrovnik, 10 hours of ferry ride from Split, and 4 hours of train ride from Ancona, and now I made it to Rome. The way I see it, I can do one of two things 1) Declare myself emperor and start a campaign to take over Europe (again), or 2) act like I dont know where I-m going, take a bunch of pics, and piss off the locals as much as I can. Yeah, option 2 definetly sounds more original and more satisfying--I'll go that route.

The past days days have been too much travel and not enough fun--this has to change. My last night I went dancing in Dubrovnik--an american girl living in Istanbul went with me--I met her at the hostel and she wanted to come along. She got really drunk and kept trying to dirty dance with me and maul me. I was having none of it. She was a horrible dancer, smelled funny, and needed to work on a little social etiquette--cause she thought she was da bomb. Maybe I just wasnt drunk enough for her stunts to work. I'm better off for it.

The next day was the bus, and ferry over here. I met a korean girl, named Boyee, who was traveling to Rome too and I taught her how to play cribbage. When we got to Rome together she invited me to stay at her 'special' hostel. It was only for Koreans. At first I was game and thought it would be interesting to stay with a bunch of Koreans while in Italy. Then I went in and checked the place out. The toilet didnt flush, and the sink or shower water didnt run, so I decided to say bye to Boyee and escaped from the Korean hostel. The next hostel I registered at is called the Hostel Beautiful. All was going fine until they had to call the Fire dept cause of a gas leak. I decided to go for a walk at that point and here I am.

So now I walk to the coliseum. When some stories develop, you'll be the first to know.

Last day in the city of stone and light

Intellectual readers, amused bystanders, bored housewives: I thank you all for reading--I really do! But please please, if you post a comment, leave at least your initials (or one) and give me a fighting chance as to who wrote what so that I may respond to your quips and gags in like fashion. ---Your european vagabond.

Today not much to report as I mostly traversed the city by foot to see different interesting sites. One peculiar thing is I ran into the canadian who I took care of in Zagreb, and the guy who I think got me sick. Turns out we are staying inthe same hostel again, but luckily we are in different rooms. Turns out he is on a massive whirlwind tour that has lasted since august and continues until next june. He travels alone like I am, but I wonder how he can pay for it all. He must have a much higher credit card limit than I do. He says he keeps trying to get into iran jordan, and syria, but they wont let him. I would love to write more but the internat shop is closing down. More later.

Of Beer and Boats

Try as I might, I have been yearning to get in the water on a boat since I hit the Coast of Croatia. I have hung around the sailing yards hoping to hop a ride with some lonely old man needing a strapping young man to teach the sailing skills to. I have had no such luck. I haven't even got the chance to ask someone, as it seems no one is out to sail in what is considered winter weather by Croatian standards. By Minnsotan standards, this would be spring and we would be running around in shorts.

So today I had to take matters into my own hands. I decided I was going to rent a boat. OK, find a agency or store to rent one from--should be easy, right? Wrong. Once again, this is their winter and all the boat/wind sailing stores are closed. Hmmm. What next. I go down to the harbor and notice a boat mechanic (cussing in croatian, see above pic) and kindly ask him if he rents boats. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Goverite Engleski? (Speak English? in Croatian)
Boat Mechanic: Ja, I spreche Deutsch! (Yes, I speak german! in German)
Me: OK, boate mieten? (OK, boat rental?, in german)
Boat Mechanic: Yes! Yes! My son rent boat.
Me: So you speak English?
Boat: Ja, I spreche englishen, sonne hier in zwanzig minuten, haben ein Pivo! (Yes, I speak english, son here in 20 minutes, have a beer! in german--except he used the croatian word for beer, pivo.)

It was rather a weird conversation in three languages, but the point got across. So I sat down he opened a beer and went to retrieve a glass for me. He found one, on the ground, and proceeded to clean it with his grease rag. Before I could refuse he poured me a tall beer. Looking into the glass I could tell it had its one fauna of tiny animals and dirt pieces on the bottom of the cup. I could hardly refuse, especially after he toasted me. So down it all went. I figured if I downed the beer fast enough, it wouldn't mix the with the 'sprinkles' on the bottom. This back fired as he just kept refilling the cup as fast as I drank it. After the third one, I didnt care the 'sprinkles' were all but gone anyway--hell in college I once drank beer out of a persons boot (hint--dont join rugby).

So the son arrives, father and son argue for a little while (in croation) and then the son starts to ask me some questions. Can you drive boat? (sure) You have boating licence? (No) You boat on sea before? (No) You take risk if polizei pull you over? (Sure.) OK, you can rent boat.

After that we haggled for the price a little while and we settled on about 50 US dollars (300 kuno) for two hours and me having to pay no gas fees, but I also get to take two beers with me. I bargained for all I could, but once again, I think I got robbed. No life jacket either--forgot to ask for that. He then showed me how to get out of the harbor as I had to avoid about 20 boats and the ropes that tied them down. No small feat of evasion.

I must say it was worth every penny to be out in the bay--to be the only boat out in the bay and me waiving at tourists like I lived here and them waiving back just as frantically, like tourists do. There is also something about a sunny clear day, out on the sea--a beer in one hand, and a boat motor in the other. I cruised along, visited some different bays, started to skirt a island, but thought better of it as gas was getting low and the motor starting to pop and skip. Not the type of boat I would want to row for a kilometer. At some spots I killed the motor and just drifted as I took pictures of Debrovnik and soaked up the sun. I had an urge to jump in the water, but I had no anchor, and I could just see me swimming for the boat and me never catching up. While I was out there I have to admit, I decided to talk like a pirate and call everyone on land a bunch of landlubbers--except you have to say it just right--ey yarr allle boonch offf lanlubbers yarrr! Thats more like it. You practice now. It must be the sea air that does it to you. Or too much sun.

I made a video and will try to post it when I find a computer that will let me upload it--maybe when I get to Italy.

Boke.

St Blaise Festival in Dubrovnik

I just arrived in town for the St Blaise Festival that happens every year at this time in Dubrovnik. Here is a short excerpt of from Wikipedia on what it is all about:

"Saint Blaise is the saint of the wild beast. Blaise is the patron saint of the city of Dubrovnik (where he is known as Sveti Vlaho) and formerly the protector of the independent Republic of Ragusa. At Dubrovnik his feast is celebrated yearly on 3 February, when relics of the saint, his head, a bit of bone from his throat, his right hand and his left, are paraded in reliquaries. The festivities begin the previous day, Candlemas, when white doves are released. Chroniclers of Dubrovnik such as Rastic and Ranjina attribute his veneration there to a vision in 971 to warn the inhabitants of an impending attack by the Venetians, whose galleys had dropped anchor in Gruz and near Lokrum, ostensibly to resupply their water but furtively to spy out the city's defenses. St. Blaise (Blasius) revealed their pernicious plan to Stojko, a canon of St. Stephen's Cathedral. The Senate summoned Stojko, who told them in detail how St. Blaise had appeared before him as an old man with a long beard and a bishop's mitre and staff. In this form the effigy of Blaise remained on Dubrovnik's state seal and coinage until the Napoleonic era.
Saint Blaise died from getting attacked by sharks in the ocean while performing vodoo on a jew."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Blaise

I've never seen a town parade around bits of patron saint. Such things just dont happen in america, so this should be quite the experience.

Nothing much has happened in the last two days, just traveling and being harassed off the bus for hawkers of 'sobes' or private rooms in peoples houses--which are often cheaper than hotel rooms. In the off season, competition is frantic among them.