You can take our lives, but you can never take (dramatic pause) OUR FREEDOM

As the title would suggest, I am in Scotland, home of Scotch whiskey, William Wallace, confusing accents, and bagpiped Amazing Grace. More specifically, I'm in Edinburgh, the capital. This will be very brief. I successfully met my mom in London, and after 5 hours of aimlessly wandering the airport, made it to Edinburgh. The Holiday Inn Express is amazing here. Today, we hit up the castle, and I am currently in a raging debate between spending a ton of money on a real kilt or a ton of money on a tweed coat. I think the tweed coat will win out though. A little more real life usage, I think. So yeah, that's that. I had haggis at a terrible pub, but recovered. I need to go find mom somewhere in Marks & Spencer now. Later.

Remedy

Last night's post was so bad, I decided I had to remedy it. I was sick from McDonald's, and just sort of barfed up a lame regurgitation of events. If you're ever in Switzerland, do not ever get the Ciabatta Grande with fromage. It reaches new levels of disust. So, here's something a little better, I hope. I'm still in Geneva, though this morning, I took a train a half hour up the lakeshore to Lausanne, home of the Olympic Museum. Lausanne is the home of the International Olympic Committee. I was very impressed with the museum, as it was very nicely laid out, very modern, and very informative. Maybe it's the inherent cowboy mentality in all of us Yanks, but I had some sort of weird expectation of a museum dedicated to American Olympic ass kicking. Surprisingly though, the museum instead focused on the larger goals and ideals of the Olympic movement, which was really fascinating. A lot of time describing why the Olympics were refounded, stuff like that. They had a video library, and I did get my fix, as I watched a 9 minute clip of the 1992 dream team win the gold medal. That was the one with Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, etc. I tried to watch the 1980 hockey team, but the computer thing didn't work. Whatever, it was a very good way to spend the morning. They have this park with a lot of really sweet statues, made even sweeter by listening to the Olympic fanfare on your iPod. Plus, no one ever checked my Eurail pass, so I got free passage to Lausanne and back to Geneva.

Back in Geneva, I met up with Kevin, Hilary, Mary, and Anna at Starbucks, my home away from home in Europe. I'm actually in an internet cafe in the train station, having just came from said location. Although Geneva is painfully overpriced, we had a great time, enjoying some coffee, taking artsy photographs, and talking. One of the more interesting conversations related to our perceptions of ourselves throughout the years. Like, everyone thinks they had everything figured out in high school. Then you get to college, and you're like, "wait a second, I didn't know jack." So, we were just talking about that progression. Like, are we adults now, or do we just think we are? Who knows. What I do know, is that for about 10 days now, I have been travelling Europe, with no guidelines, no tour coordinator, no nothing. The only thing I've been able to rely on to get myelf around in one piece and figure out what's going on has been myself and those who have been with me. I think the fact that right now, I am sitting in Geneva after successfully navigating through London, Chamonix, Reutte, Prague, and Munich is a good indication of the intense growth that one is necessarily brought through during such an adventure. I guess the purpose of this is to say, I feel good about myself right now, being able to handle all of this. It's certainly been intense. I still have Edinburgh, Dublin, more London, and Vienna to go. The strange thing is, after this break is over, there's only a few months until the longer spring break is upon us. Wow.

Like I said, I'm in Geneva for Christmas. It's certainly not been a very Christmas Eve-y Christmas Eve. It's really hard to get Christmasy when you're constantly on the road. It's a trade off, I suppose. I have an opportunity this year, and the traditional Christmas is being sacrificed for that opportunity. But it's very nice to be able to spend Christmas with some of the Luther crew, as they are my family for the year. There definitely is that feeling, at least among the core group of people I've been travelling with. And it's always nice to be with family at Christmas. Even if we are going to spend it at Starbucks (open on Christmas!) and seeing Casino Royale. It's been nice to get to know some different Luther people better over the past few days, which is always nice. It will be bittersweet to leave them, but I'm looking forward to spending time with my mom and after that, my friend Scott. And after that, seeing Benjamin and Kate in Vienna. Familiarity is always good. Since there is nothing to do in Geneva (honestly, don't come here, it's not as cool as it sounds), I'll probably post a Christmas message tomorrow. But if I don't, everyone have a very merry Christmas. And to those of you from WAG, sorry I missed the Christmas party. It would have been nice to see Shane drink too much and make fun of the fork he constantly has in his pocket, among so many other things, but such is life. No Leeann Chin yet, but I'm constantly on the lookout (for those of you not in the know, Leeann Chin is the preferred Chinese fast food establishment of Walgreens Pharmacy #5634). As they say in Geneva, Joyeux Nöel!

Prague, Munich, Geneva.....

I'm in Geneva right now, after a whirlwind 16 hours spent in Munich. Prague went well. If you're ever in Central Europe, I would recommend it pretty strongly. I don't know, it's just a very pretty city, and it's a good place to walk around. I spent most of the day with Hilary, which was fun. Much of yesterday was spent getting from Prague to Munich, which means a 6 hour train ride. Upon arrival at our hostel, we headed out to check out the city. Being Christmas, there was a big Christmas market going on, which meant that I purchased a bratwurst in Germany. After that, we headed over the Hofbrauhaus, which is a big beer hall. Details aren't really that important, but it involved a bunch of Germans at the table next to us, one of whom didn't even speak German, but Bavarian, a fair quantity of Munich's famous beer, pretzels, a bunch of men in lederhosen playing brass instruments, and an ill feeling in the morning. I guess if you want the non G-rated version, e-mail or something. Anyways, I'm in Geneva now. I have to be frank, Geneva is not impressing me whatsoever. It just feels very blah, and does not have the atmosphere or charm of Prague or Munich, much less Chamonix. You think Switzerland, and images are conjured up of grand moutains and quaint towns. Geneva just has not met these criteria yet. I'm sure I'll survive though. If it's open tomorrow, I may head out to the International Olympic Museum in nearby Lausanne, which would be really cool. It's good to have someplace to settle down for Christmas though. Tonight, we ate at McDonald's, pretty much out of laziness. I had something called a Ciabatta Grande avec fromage, and I wouldn't recommend it. I feel sort of ill because of it, I'm fairly certain. I really don't have much else to say right now. So, everyone have a very merry Christmas!

Behind the Iron Curtain

This will be short, as I feel as if I'm blogging way too much for vacation. Needless to say, I'm in Prague right now, the capital of the Czech Republic. The Czech Republic, hmm, land of a thousand lame jokes. I forgot my czechbook, let's czech that out, I need to czech out with my groceries, etc, etc, etc. After a long train journey from Reutte, I met up with the gang in the very Soviet Union-esque train station. If one thing sticks out from these first 5 or so hours in Prague, it's that it is dirt cheap. It seems as if this country is a huge dollar store. Seriously, everything seems to come out to one US dollar. And it's not like you're getting bad stuff either. Tonight, I had a steak, a plate of fried potato things, and two beers, all for under US 14 dollars. We ate dinner in a very smoky restaurant, but it was good. We all experienced a bit of culture shock, as the waitress was wearing a black skirt, a black sweater jacket, and that's it. In polite terms, she was utterly and fully exposed. Not what you'd typically see in the US. Tomorrow sees an early morning to czech out Prague to the fullest it can be in 24 hours. Tomorrow also rings in Emily's 21st birthday. So, joyeux anniversaire for that. Prague, supposedly one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, dirt cheap, full of amazing beer, and ripe for the picking. Bring it.

Sprechen sie Englisch?

It is the most uncomfortable feeling in the world, not being able to freelz communicate (taking a cue from Kevin, I'm giving up on trzing to spel correctlz on the German kezboard. The z's and y's are switched around. Deal with it). I know I mentioned that before. But it's the truth. Anzwazs, todaz, I got up plentz earlz, ate breakfast at mz guesthouse, and then the kindlz Austrian woman who co-owns the place drove me to the bus station in Reutte to catch mz bus to Fussen. Well anzwazs, like an idiot, I picked out the wrong time, so I ended up waiting around for 40 minutes before catching the bus for the half hour ride to Fussen. Fussen is a fairlz touristz town in Bavaria, famouslz known for the Konigschlossen, or King's Castles. There are two of them, both of which I toured. The more normal Hohenschwagou (or something) and the quite more impressive Neuschwanstein. The king in question is Ludwig II of Bavaria, who ruled in the late 19th centurz. This dude was wild. He was mildlz insane, his best friend was Richard Wagner (zeah, that one), and he basicallz decided to build a fantaszland castle for himself, that of Neuschwanstein. It was ridiculous. I wish I could post photos, but it looks like something out of a Disnez movie, no joke. He dedicated the castle to Wagner, so all the paintings are of Wagnerian operas, which I found cool. I had the Die Meistersinger Prelude going in mz head the whole time. The interior was almost offensivelz overlz decorated. Being unable to speak English, I had to take the English tour, which was most decidedlz the AMERICAN TOUR. On a coincidence, I ran into a group of elderlz folk from Waverlz, IA on a bus tour. Upon hearing I was a Luther boz, thez immediatelz gave me the required crap. There was also a verz curious guz, who looked about 34, on a trip with his parents and same age brother. He had on this Columbia jacket with all these patches rather tackilz sewn on, and he had the hair and air of a used car salesman. I discreetlz took a photo of him, because his mannerisms were so funnz (not to mention the ridiculous coat). Although, it was nice to be among some of mz people, even with the lame complaints, fake superioritz delusions, and offhand threats to sue. Upon taking a verz crappz guided tour with said crapload of Americans (including mzself), I rushed back down to the central area hoping to catch a bus which would take me to mz bus back to Reutte. Thanks to the inefficiencz of Fussen public transport, I missed it, and was stuck for an additional 2.5 hours in Fussen, with nothing to do. I had planned to go back to Reutte and check out a series of castle ruins on top of some hills. But no, instead I wandered around Fussen. I did stumble across Fussen's own castle, which was mildlz entertaining. Anzwazs, I finallz got back to Reutte, and after making the 2 mile walk to mz hotel, collapsed in tiredness. I had walked a lot, since after I missed the bus back to Fussen from the castles, I walked back 3.3 KM back. To round out the evening, I walked back into town for some food. Austria is the land of Mozart, yodeling, enthusiastic European integration, and HUGE ASS PIZZAS. For real, I ordered a pizza for around 5 Euros, and ended up with a monstrositz with the circumference of a small planet. Anzwazs, dulz sated, I returned to the Pension Hohenrainer with a bottle of Stiegl and watched some incrediblz lame Euro-CNN. It just doesn't hold zour interest when the same 3 stories are repeated all daz. This is long. Tomorrow, off to Prague and a reunion with Luther folk. Although I like the freedom of solo travel, it's so nice to have people to share experiences with. So anzwazs, staring down the barrel of 9 hours, 4 train changes (if I'm luckz), and a trip behind the former Iron Curtain. Bring it on.

SOLO

So, I'm now writing from the relatively remote confines of Ehenbichl, following an intense 11 hour/7 transfer train journey from Chamonix to Reutte. We all left Chamonix at 7:40 AM, and traveled more or less together until Zurich. At Zurich, I split off, and through a couple of very local trains, found myself in Reutte, Austria right around 7:00. I'm kind of in the middle of nowhere. On each train, a Deutsch Bahn employee felt the need to clarify where I was going, as it must have seemed preposterous that a lone American was traveling so far into the middle of nowhere. Not really the middle of nowhere, but not the big cities. Anyways, after getting lost in Reutte, I managed to walk to Ehenbichl, a tiny village about a mile down the road. The atmosphere is amazing though. My hotel is right underneath the Ehrenburg castle ruins, which are perched high above on a hill, and lit up at night. There is a light snow falling, complementing the snow already on the ground. And there are Christmas lights everywhere. Good stuff. Reutte/Ehenbichl is in Tirol, which is the Austrian equivalent of Bavaria. It's only a half hour bus ride from Fussen, where I'm headed tomorrow to check out Neuschwanstein Castle, the fairly tale-esque home of Mad King Ludwig. Then I hope to bus back to Reutte and check out the hilltop castle ruins. All in all, I'm looking to relax a bit before catching up with everyone in Prague on Wednesday. Let me tell you, one of the most nervewracking things is not being able to communicate freely, like me not knowing a bit of German. It's very unnerving. But it's going to be good, I can tell. I have a single room in a family run guesthouse. They're going to drive me to the bus station after breakfast in the morning, just a glimpse of how folksy this is. As much as the hostel lifestyle is glorified, there is nothing like having a private room, complete with TV and bathroom. So tonight, I think I'll just chill out and watch some English CNN, which I seem to get. For those who wondered, the rest of the time in Chamonix was great. We went up the Aiguille du Midi cable car some 12,000 feet up. Damn, it was unbelievable. I think everyone in the group agreed. I have some photos that will blow the mind. Kudos to Mary for overcoming her fear of heights, because we were definitely very high. Anyways, I just got back from a splurged 11 Euro meal of wiener schnitzel, a ton of French fries, salad, and Kaiser beer in the only restaurant in this tiny village, served by a man who spoke no English. This is the sort of experience I hope to find in abundance in the coming weeks.

Bonjour from Chamonix

Bonne soir les americains! I'm in Chamonix, France, right at the foot of Mont Blanc. It has been amazing, the best way possible to start the break. Our room is amazing, it's basically an apartment, complete with kitchen and dishwasher. And it is so nice to have more than a couple days in one place. You don't even know, man it's relaxing. Of course, we've been enjoying some French wine and cheese, as well as bread. You'll never eat better anywhere else, that's for sure. The scenery is something that really can't be described here. I went skiing today at les Grands Montets, which was unbelievable. I paid less than I would to ski at Welch Village to ski in the Alps. It was opening day of the Chamonix ski areas, so the whole place wasn't open, but that was okay. I conquered that which was open. I even (avert your eyes mom) went on an "off piste" black run, meaning the run was closed, and it was ungroomed. Black here is like the equivalent of a double black back home. The first run down was most successful. I was the only one in this huge bowl, with probably 2 feet of powder, and the most epic mountainscapes you can imagine. It's so mountain-y here, it's almost unreal. You feel as if you are in a postcard, or a landscape painting. Later, I decided to go off piste again, but this time I guess I wanted to prove that I was a badass to whoever was watching. So I decided to go down the not touched area dotted with large rocks and other obstacles. Let's just say I fell down a couple times, but they were very light falls, and I emerged unscathed. But I made it down. Skiing in the Alps is a lot more difficult I feel, because you really have to be in control. It's like driving in the city, instead of on the freeway. Small runs, varying snow conditions, you have to know your stuff to get it done. Just from this one day out, I feel a lot better in my ability to ski in powder though. I don't know if I'll get out again, but man, if the opportunity arises, I'll go. One other great thing about France is the Euro. I mean, I'm still losing money, but not nearly as much as I would in England. It's a good feeling. I've been able to use my French, which has been good. I'm the interpreter for the group. I'm making every possible effort to speak in French rather than English, with varying degrees of success. Tonight will probably be another chill night in the room. We just ate at our first Euro McDonald's, which puts American ones to shame. Pictures eventually. So yeah, Chamonix is a smashing success. Anyone who's considering it, come here. Now. C'est la vie.

Off

In roughly 2 hours, I'm catching a train to London, and setting off on my Euro-Christmasy trek across the Alps (if anyone is curious, I'm in Geneva for Christmas and London for New Year's). After an extremely late night attempting to pack, rushing together final travel plans, consulting train schedules, and trying to remember how to speak French, I think I can say that I am about as planned as I'm ever going to be. All that's left to do is walk out the door. I'm armed with a Eurail pass, approximately 2.5 GB of camera memory, and quite a few New England-ish articles of clothing from Eddie Bauer. But I'm definitely quite nervous. As I've stated earlier, I have quite a few visions of myself sleeping in some random train station in the middle of Austria, or not being able to escape the Czech Republic or something. But I think the excitement now outweighs the nervousness. I'm just ready to go now. I think the highlights of the trip are going to be skiing or whatever alpine activity in Chamonix, my solo trip to Austria, Prague, seeing family and friends, and the London Symphony concert I'm going to at the very end. It will be interesting as well to see how I manage literally living out of a suitcase for 3 weeks. I'm pretty proud of my packing job, I went really light. I definitely won't be very stylish, but at least I'll be functional. So, right. I just wanted to share the above pictures. First is my Eurail pass, which is basically the most valuable thing I own for the next month or so. You'd think $400 would look a little more impressive... Second is British Pizza Hut delivery, which I must say, takes American Pizza Hut to school. It was amazing. So anyways, t-minus one hour till I ship out for the station. As you may suspect, blog posts will become less frequent for the next 3 weeks. I will try to provide quick updates via the use of internet cafes and such. Although I'll miss playing in the Christmas band back home at church, along with all the other Christmasy traditions, this will be a good thing for me to do. Every once in a while, we must do things that are uncomfortable or difficult, in order to grow as people. I would characterize this journey as one of those things. Everyone stay well, wish me luck, and have a very merry Christmas!

P.S.- If anyone is interested in calling me while on break, I actually have my correct cell phone number here for an international caller. Keep in mind that when in Europe, I am 7 hours ahead instead of the 6 on the British Isles. On my phone at least, the "+" is formed by holding down the zero. Or double tapping it.

+44 79 6003 9380

The Final Countdown

T minus 3 days until I put England in the rearview mirror, and head out to the French Alps for the first leg of an epic journey across Alpine Europe, Edinburgh, Dublin, and London. For the public's interest, here is my itinerary

Dec 13th- depart for London

Dec 14th-18- Chamonix, France

Dec 18-20- Reutty, Austria/Fussen, Germany

Dec 20-22- Prague, Czech Republic

Dec 22-24- Munich, Germany

Dec 24-26- Geneva, Switzerland

Dec 26- Fly to London, meet mom, go to Edinburgh

Dec 26-29- Edinburgh, Scotland

Dec 29-30- Nottingham, England (meet Scott)

Dec 30-Jan 2- London (mom leaves on 31, Scott and I stay until the 2nd)

Dec 2-4- Dublin, Ireland

Dec 4-7- London

Dec 7- Return to Nottingham

And for good measure, I'll throw this in

Dec 10-14- Vienna, Austria

Looking at it on paper, it's a pretty intense 3 weeks. As we speak, I'm surrounded by a seemingly insurmountable pile of travel books, train schedules, hotel reservations, and maps. In my hurried rush to get all my trains, planes, and hostels booked, I haven't had much time to actually figure out what I want to do in each place yet. I mean, some ideas, but other than that, Rick Steves, you're my man. This whole planning thing has been one of the most intimidating things I've ever done. I'm armed with my Eurail pass, a timetable book, a sheaf of set rail journeys to and from my various destinations, but I still have the sneaking suspicion I'm going to end up stranded in some tiny village in Germany. Everything is planned out well, but navigating stations, finding seats on trains, etc, is a frightening prospect. As Kevin said, you just have to sort of get on and pray to God you end up where you want to go. Sounds like a good idea to me.

Anyways, it was a typically rainy, depressing, and freakishly cold English Sunday, complete with 20 MPH wind gusts. Sounds like a great day for a baseball game. Yes, today saw my re-entry to the world of competitive amateur baseball, as we defeated the university softball team in 3 innings on a windswept plain outside of town. I started in left field. I only touched the ball once in the field, and although I fielded it successfully, I made an idiot play throwing it back in, and sort of threw it somewhere between second base and the center fielder. Whatever. The real stupidity came when I batted. I ended up walking, and made it to second as a result of another walk. Anyways, the guy on first like, forgot I was on second, and decided to steal. So he starts running, I figure out what's going on, and I try to steal third. I get called out, he makes it. It was one of the lamest things I've ever had happen to me.

Saturday night, a large group of us decided to go see this year's formulaic Christmas film, aptly named "The Holiday." I must be honest, it is making a very strong case for the worst movie I've ever seen in a theatre. I found out that Cameron Diaz is not only the worst actress I've ever seen, but also a genuinely irritating human being. She ruined the movie. In any case, the film was terrible, and I would discourage anyone from seeing it, unless you want to subject yourself to way too much crappy acting, predictable plot, and horrifyingly bad dialogue.

Jumping back to today, it was a relatively quiet day, save for the baseball game. I've spent most of today trying to get my affairs in order for the break. Some of us (Kevin, Ryan, Hilary, Emily, myself) decided to go eat at Wagamama, which is quickly becoming my favorite British culinary invention. It's a Japanese style noodle bar, and it is amazing. Brings me right back to Concert Band Tour 2005, complete with Kirin. Tomorrow features yet more planning, some sort of presentation to Mark and Carol for the Paideia final, a shopping trip downtown for travel essentials, baseball practice, and some sort of celebration for Mary's birthday. I don't know, it should be good. Hopefully I'll get more stuff solidified for break, and not have as much a potential for a meltdown. In any case, it's sure to be intense.

Razzle Dazzle

It's December. To me, that means one thing. ELVIS' CHRISTMAS ALBUM.

I went and saw Chicago with Mary last night. I must say, my near-encyclopedic knowledge of the movie version did me in. Everything I compared to the movie, and typically found less than up to the task. Granted, it's the touring show. I mean, there's a preordained stigma anyways. The point in which the show excelled was the choreography, which was very very good. You could tell they spent a lot of time on it. The singing, eh. I would characterize it as generally good, but not what I would expect from a touring musical. Billy Flynn was not very good. He definitely could have used a good critical watching of the movie and taken some notes from Richard Gere. Richard Gere's presence in general would have greatly lifted the quality of the production. It was quite odd, it seemed as if the entire theater was comprised of high school age girls. At least the cheap section that we were in was. The theater was entirely too big for the show. I feel as if Chicago is a show that would greatly benefit from a more intimate performance venue, to get that cabaret feel. I make it sound as if the show sucked. It didn't. I was entertained. But I prefer the movie to the UK touring version. So sue me.

This week has been perhaps the worst week of the semester, in terms of workload. Being gone over the weekend, I had Monday and Tuesday to write a 1,500 word history essay on the motivations for European expansion and colonialism in the early modern period. I also had to deal with Mark and Carol's Paideia Final of Doom on Tuesday night, which featured 2 hours of straight essay-ing. Honestly, I didn't find it as difficult as I feared it may have been, but it was definitely intense. But with the relative laxidasical quality of stuff at the university, a little Luther-esque kick in the face was probably good. Anyways, I got the essay turned in, my journals for the weekend at Stratford complete. All that now stands between me and (hopefully) skiing in the Alps is a seminar presentation on Friday and a wack oral presentation of some sort of Paideia final to the directors on Monday. Plus some studious practicing of the trombone. Given my academic demands as of late, I have not been able to practice for a week, which really irritates me. It always happens this time of year, but it doesn't ever get less annoying. In good news, I got my first essay back, this one from American History. I scored a 70, which converts into an "A" in the American system. Considering it was worth 50% of my grade, I was okay with that.

Another momentous hurdle was lept yesterday in my struggle to become BRITISH. I purchased and subsequently ate a pre-packaged sandwich, similar to the one pictured. Rather, mine was chicken and bacon, and I got it at Boots, the Walgreens wannabe chain pharmacy. Britain is the land of the pre-packaged sandwich, and I am continually mystified by their enduring popularity among the masses here. One will not believe just how many people walk around with these things on a regular basis. I'm sure there are more than a few students at the university who are completely sustained by them. You would not have caught me dead with such a sandwich in the States. But, I concluded that a certain level of sacrifice was necessary for greater cultural understanding. I'm somewhat horrified to admit that it wasn't all that bad.

Travel plans are irritating me, but I found something to do in the 3 days between Chamonix and Prague. I'm going to Fussen, Germany. It's in Bavaria, 10 minutes or so across the border from Austria. It features the castle pictured above. I don't really know where I'm going to stay yet, but I'm hoping to figure that out by the weekend. I'm learning the advantages of early booking, especially when it comes to hostels. So either I'm going to get lucky with some hotels, or I'm going to be staying in some random person's guesthouse in a backwater Austrian town. No, really, I might. In any event, it will be a good test case for future travels.

Why am I still on this thing? I need to figure out this lame seminar crap. More European colonization. I keep feeling I should be some sort of celebrity, because I'm from the place colonized by Europeans. That makes no sense, I'm not Native American. Out.

Stratford Upon Avon (aka hangin' with Shakespeare)

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So right, I was in Stratford upon Avon this weekend, to be henceforth referred to simply as "Stratford" for efficiency's sake. As you may or may not know, Stratford was the boyhood home of William Shakespeare, as well as where he lived in later life. It's also the home of the Royal Shakespeare Company, which performs his plays. Being a non-Englishy sort of person, I was a little apprehensive about this particular trip, simply because I thought it would be lame. I've read some Shakespeare, but typically found it so tasking to interpret and figure out, that I just couldn't handle it. I was incorrect.

We left early Friday morning, and made our way to Stratford via car. What was nice about this weekend is that most of our time was unstructured, in that we were given the opportunity to explore Stratford on our own. We got this ticket that gave us access to 5 Shakespeare houses for 12 pounds. These involved Shakespeare's birthplace, his wife's cottage, his daughter's/wealthy doctor son in law's house, his mom's house, and the ruins of the house Will lived in himself before some pretentious idiot knocked it down so he wouldn't have to pay taxes. I mean, it was cool to see Shakespeare's birthplace, but it wasn't like, a life changing experience, like going on a pilgrammage or anything. Some people might characterize Stratford as such. The town was very nice, and it was decorated brilliantly for Christmas, with lights everywhere. I enjoyed it. Once again, I found myself in Starbucks. But thankfully, thanks to the recently received Starbucks card from my mom, it didn't really cost me $6. It cost my small plastic card $6. But not me.

The highlight of the weekend was definitely the plays. On Friday we saw "Pericles" and on Saturday we saw "The Winter's Tale." Both plays were put on by the same cast, of the Royal Shakespeare Company. Pericles was given this African theme, complete with fancy robes, dictators, and guerillas. A Winter's Tale was set up in this 1940's theme, then switched to a 1960's hippie love fest sort of thing. I don't know, I figured out I liked watching live theatre. It's an expensive hobby to have though, so who knows if it will ever pan out. It did make me want to visit the new Guthrie in Minneapolis. Shakespeare though, man his plays make so much more sense when you actually see them performed, instead of just reading. What a good idea.

In other things, the beard journey is over, after a rather humiliating 24 hours sporting a Shakespeare-esque mustache/soul patch thing. Not a good idea. The 4 guys stayed in a penthouse room in a pretty sweet B&B, which was good. We had probably the lamest conversation ever on Friday night. The Red Hot Chili Peppers were on TV, and we were all trying to impress each other, trying to explain why they remain popular. Problem is, none of us knew what the hell we were talking about, so we were making the lamest, most vague statements you can think of. Whatever I said made no sense whatsoever. I stopped in an Oxfam (the British equivalent of Goodwill) and picked up a Penguin guide to Jazz on record for 4 pounds. Like, a 500 page book that has a review and discology of practically every jazz album by anyone of significance from the first recordings to 1995. I was pleased. And how can I forget Sunday's church service at Holy Trinity. Besides being the home of Shakespeare's grave, it also features a man with perhaps the most stereotypical English accent ever. I honestly could not stop laughing during the prayers and hymns. This guy was right behind me, bellowing in the most outrageous, John Cleese-ish, just plain crazy voice I've ever come across in this country. I wish I could have recorded it, or at least recorded an impression of it. Holy crap, it was so funny. Like I said, I couldn't stop laughing, and kept trying to find ways to try and hide by intensely reading the bulletin, or pretending to cough.

Two weeks from right now, I'm going to be in Chamonix, enjoying the aprés ski after a day on the slopes. Holy crap. I'll be leaving a week from this Thursday. It freaks me out, but I am ready for adventure. The great act of going out by oneself, or in my case, in a group of 4. Unfettered adventure. Thank you Eurail. Anyways, I had my band concert tonight. It went well, fairly well. I screwed up some counting, but I'm not as irritated as I could be, because it's not like I wasn't prepared. I played my solo well. The main wind orchestra, they had their moments, but they played Russian Christmas Music, and I wasn't too impressed. In blogging news, I'm including links to a couple other Luther folks' websites. I would encourage people to check a couple of them out every once in a while. Get a different perspective, you know? Anyways, I have a rough two days coming up, with a big history paper, a history seminar, and a Paideia final. But on Wednesday, I'm going to see Chicago. Good times. Congratulations to Scott and his new 50 inch plasma flatscreen TV. I'm impressed, no joke.