10 Days to gogogo...

My time here is coming to a close. So much to look back and reflect on.....which I will no doubt do for a long time. I'm glad I took a lot of pictures and kept this blog thing. Hell I don't know if a lot of people really read this...not too concerned. I know my Mom is always looking for updates, that's enough for me to keep doin it.

Hopefully the snow comes back this weekend. Alex arrives on Thursday, then it's off to the RTT Christmas party on Friday night. Free car, hotel, dinner, and club afterwards...all drinks free. Gonna get crazy from what people vaguely talk about last years party. Then on saturday Alex and I hop on a plan to Barcelona Spain....hey that rhymes! I'm a nerd. Two days in Spain with my girlfriend...gonna be an awesome trip.

.....and to top it off I fly back to Los Angeles on the 21st....only to have no work until the 2nd of January...woohoo! It's like Winter break from school all over again. Looking forward to the next few weeks...lots to happen, check for pictures. Peace.

parker

Modern Art Museum...

or rather, the Pinakothek der Moderne. I went there a few weekends ago with Curtis, Reijo, and Ethan, all guys from work. They also had a Max Beckman exhibit, but no one was interested in paying for that. Some pretty cool stuff and also they had things like modern IBM Thinkpads, that robotic dog that came out a few years back....the AIBO? and a bunch of other random stuff. Here's some pics. Enjoy!

Tatra T87...glorious in all it's...weirdness...Harks back to the boattail design element I was so facinated with in my thesis project at Art Center.

Marble wall...car sculpture. It was about 30 feet long.







Ingenious...I mean, a tree is a chair....now it is official.

They played some strange videos, this one showed the aftermath of some trash strewn park that probably had some kind of concert. It highlights some crazy guy going around throwing trash bags in the air.

Another video is an interview with a Holocaust survivor, who had his 5 digit number tattoo'd in his arm some 60 years ago. He tells the story, then the tattoo artist urge him to go forward with the revitalization of the number, to get it redone. He agrees, and it's almost sad just watching this whole story unfold. His number is revived, and you can see the sadness in his eyes when it's all over.

This is our fridge corner, you get good money for returning your bottles...so we do our best to maintain a nice collection.


parker

Herren Chiemsee...the Royal Palace.

Last weekend...I went to what might be my final castle in Germany, the Royal Palace of Herren Chiemsee. Herren Chiemsee translates to 'Man's Island', and is right next to Frauen Chiemsee, 'Woman's Island', which is about 1/10th the size. Insert male chauvinistic joke here. I went with Dani, a friend from work, who has been to this castle before. So driving there without getting lost was not a problem. Plus it was nice to once again be in a car, which I am slowly wondering how I will accustom myself to driving everywhere when I get back. I might actually miss the trains...sniff.

This is the third castle of Kind Ludwig II...the other being Neuschwanstein that I went to and I don't know the name of the third. Again, this castle was unfinished...maybe 20 of 80 rooms completed. And he only spent 10 days in the castle before he left and was later found face down in a shallow pool of water.

This is Berta...she was our boat who took us the 20 minutes to the island. On board you can buy pretzels, coffee, beer, and ice cream.

The Royal Palace, which is what I will be calling my next house I live in...no matter where or what neighborhood it is located in.

Random bedroom. The one I don't have a picture of took 7 years to make for the King.

Horns to drink beer out of. Take a note, I would like one of these for Christmas.

All the fountains were covered up...and the flowers and plants torn out. Not as visually entertaining as the inside.



Looking out into the water, it was grey and eery. Almost snowing, but just warm enough to fall in drops of water. Felt like I was on a set on some movie, with just a grey tarp for the backdrop as you couldn't see anything off the island.




The island might have only had 100 people on it at most. And walking back to the boat it was quiet...so quiet I may never hear quiet like this again. No animals, wind, people, cars, buildings, just silence. I actually felt like I was in 1873 or something...how did people entertain themselves back then? Oh excuse me my iPhone is ringing....

parker

First snow in Munich....

These pictures are from back in November 15th, when Munich started getting some good snow. It's so funny because I get all excited when the snow starts. Obviously living in Arizona and then Cali didn't provide me days like this to wake up to. You only see snow when you purposefully travel to it.

Shot from the South side...out my window...

Shot out the north side, in the stairwell...

Snow covered bikes....

This is on the wall of the train station I use to get to work. I see it every morning...and the character is interesting to say the least. Just one example of the street art found in Munich.

Thanksgiving in Munich....ehhhh.....

So what to do on the traditional turkey day when the family is 6000 miles away and I want my turkey. To start, I looked up places in Munich that were serving thanksgiving meals. Sure enough, I found at least 3 of them. The catch was that most wanted a reservation made, possibly paid beforehand, and the price was anywhere from 31-40 Euro. That's about 50-60 US Dollars if you pay attention to how weak our money is over here.

I soon forgo any other attempts at getting my 'authentic' expensive thanksgiving meal. I do want turkey, and Ethan from work, another American, is down to find some with me. We end up going to Berg Poppenheim, a little German place near my apartment. We ordered puten schnitzel and pommes, translation, pounded and battered turkey, with french fries. Top that off with some salad, 4 beers, and call it a night. It was a hearty meal, and I remember wanting a nap afterwards, so it was just like a normal Thanksgiving.

Looking forward to Mom's home cookin back in Phoenix. Christmas is right around the corner people, and I'm almost home.

parker

One my way to Rally Ireland...Nov 16-18

Ireland...where do I even begin with this one. I am an adventurer (is that even a word), and I can take on anything. Since everyone I am willing to travel with in Munich was busy, I decided to hit Ireland on my own. First night Dublin on Friday, see the rally race on Saturday, head up to Belfast saturday night, then back to Dublin to fly out on Sunday. Simple enough.

I arrive in Dublin at around 930pm. I head to Hertz to pick up my rental car and get a Peugot 207...basically a base model hyundai elantra or something comparable. They talk me into the GPS unit and the extra insurance, thinking I might need it seeing how I'm in Ireland, by myself, driving on the left side of the road, something is bound to go slightly awry. It didn't really dawn on me that driving on the right side of the car, in the left lane, would be so difficult. Pedals are the same, it's a 5 speed manual, and the shift gate is in the same location, 1st gear to reverse. Except I have to use my left hand to shift, right to drive, and and the A pillar is located 1 foot from my right eye, not my left.

Getting on the road was....scary. I still wasn't used to driving like this, now I had to get on the major motorway and get to my hotel, at around 1030pm. I notice a toll road up ahead, so I exit and hit my first roundabout of 100 or so in this weekend alone. The non toll road took me through the downtown city streets of Dublin, full of pubs, restaurants, and shops. Nothing too exciting, plus I was so focused on driving I couldn't think of anything else. The roads were 4 lanes wide, going down to 1 for my side at the drop of a dime, forcing my to merge in front of or behind buses who were not staying within the lines. It's a freeforall...and the traffic lights are not on the opposite side of the street, they are on your corner, forcing you to lean forward to see when the light will turn green. And it goes from red to yellow to green...kind of like the start of a race. i assume this is to give this manual cars time to shift to first, then take off. Then the light goes from green to red, with no yellow warning. Odd.

I arrive at my hostel, I survived the first trip, only to pull into a parking spot on the left side of the road and scrape the hubcaps past the paint down to the plastic because I thought I had to get over more in the lane. My mind still thinks I'm on the left side of the car. I put my things in the Dublin Youth Hostel, where I am staying with 5 other random people. No one else is there, I assume they are out drinking and will have to deal with them at 4 in the morning drunk off their asses. I proceed to walk around Dublins pub streets, an area called Temple. It's full of street carnies, drunken Irish dudes like frat boys, and girls puking in the alleys next to the bars. It's packed, and suddenly I lose all desire to attempt to go into a bar to get 'a' beer.



I spent the next 90 minutes walking around the streets, and then away from the Temple area to some landmarks on my tourist map. It's all near my hostel, so I feel relatively safe. The taxis are driving drunk guys and girls around, some of them hanging out the window, and when one taxi drops off some girls he pulls a U, almost burning out, then speeds off, and the girls just laugh and comment on how cool the taxi driver was. Everyone gets into the spirit. I get a Guinness beer and return to the hostel to plan my driving to Enniskillin for the WRC rally race, Rally Ireland.




Up by 8 to leave the hostel, downstairs for breakfast at 830. Turns out Ireland is one hour back, so it's only 730. yay....this is now officially the earliest I've been up on a saturday. My GPS leads me out of town, and I begin a mix of freeways and two lane roads to the west side of Northern Ireland. The rain has started but it's light, although the forcast calls for heavy rains starting on the west and heading east all day. The weather report in Ireland is downright depressing, and should be abolished. We all know whats coming.

I get to Enniskillin and head to an area where stage 13, where I might be able to catch the tail end of the race. I start walking up the road, and begin to see a stream of people heading the other way. I give up hope and return to my car. There are 3 more stages to go in the day, I thought I'd see all three, but quickly realized with the traffic and rain it was better to find one and wait it out, making sure I saw something, anything. Stage 15, Ballinamallard 2 starts at 250pm....it's only 1130. Sigh..... I drive there, it's only about 5 miles, but takes 30 minutes with traffic. This is also the point when my GPS starts refusing to work. Regardless, I get there, and realize waiting is my best option. People are in there cars waiting, lining a lonely 2 lane country road that is the only entrance to the spectator zone. I see that waiting is normal, and these people probably have done this since 6am and maybe only saw one other stage.


I walk the mile or so to the viewing area. The ground is covered in mud mixed with patches of thick grass, and there is 2 day rain soaked cow manure everywhere. Tennis shoes are not welcome here. I find an area I think will be good, reluctantly, because I always think there is someplace better to be standing, but the roads quickly get blocked off the closer it gets to race time. I'm standing there surrounded by Irish people, listening to their conversations, and realize I can't understand 90% of what they are saying. I'm even trying to read lips and its like a foreign language to me. I understood more German than Irish at this point. Some kids are running and sliding butt first then belly first down a mud covered hill, into puddles of water at the bottom for fun. Then I notice one guy in front of me is missing most of his top row of teeth when he smiles. The 'teeth' are black and short, almost looking like titanium inserts, but I realize this monetary installation of such teeth are probably not a hot commodity in Ireland, and realize his teeth are just so deteriorated they are almost black. Wow. I love paying for health care and dentistry in America, I actually use it.


The rain has stopped and the cars start coming. They release a car every two minutes, but we are near the stage end so they could be 30 seconds apart or 4 minutes. You only get a 6 second warning when the car comes, you hear the sound and then it's there in front of you, ripping around the track doing around 96 mph on the second straight I was told. The road is paved but covered in mud from the rain, we are surrounded by green fields and tractors, if you can imagine the area in which this is taking place. Think Barstow, Buttonwillow, Napa Valley, Flagstaff if you will, maybe even Buckeye. The sounds are amazing, most cars growling hard as they rip around corners on the brink of flying off the road in to a crowd of 500 spectators (i've seen some nasty rally vids in my day, thanks Steve Winters).



There are about 90 cars or so, the first 40 being the faster group. I think I got a picture of Sebastien Loeb, but most pics were blurry from being too close to the action. I leave you with some photos and videos of the race...here....








There was almost one major accident, a car came around the first corner and lost control. As he's sliding left to right, the crowd in front of me screams and most run from the fence for their lives. Just then the driver corrects and keeps on going in his furious pace to the finish, just 1 kilometer ahead.



I left around 4pm or so, thinking I might be able to still hit my extended route to Belfast, which will take me through Tyrone county and Laim, two places where my ancestors came from. My GPS is still on the fritz, it's raining, getting dark, so I decide the straight route to Belfast is safer. I get almost 3/4 of the way there, 2 hours of driving, and my exit to Belfast is blocked by construction. I try to take the detour, but this proves uneventful, make my exit and try to take surface streets to find my way back to the motorway. This is where I get into a 45 minute or so excursion through the Blair Witch part of Belfast. My GPS is broke, it's dark, and the roads are getting shittier and shittier. 2, 3, 4 wrong turns, I'm freaking out. It's pouring rain. I figure I need to backtrack..then the GPS kicks on. It guides me on a new road, I follow, then it goes blank again. F**k. Finally I see a semi truck and follow it for 20 minutes, and I am led to the motorway entrance with signs to Belfast via the roundabout.



The one bar I went to in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Belfast is also under construction. All my roads into the city are a maze of lighted signs and cones, potholes and one lane narrow death traps for a foreigner who likes driving with the steering wheel on the left. People are just not meant to drive on the right of a car, just look at Ireland death rate from crashes. It takes me over 90 minutes again in Belfast to find the hostel. Should have been 5 minutes. I had a detour to the airport and then a gas station for directions. My shitty google map print out with no street names was useless in the mouse trap. When I do arrive they have parking in the back for my car, no on the street thank God, and I meet a nice couple in the room who are travelling Europe and Afrika for 4 1/2 months, nonstop. And I thought I was a traveller. I find one local bar showing the Ireland vs Scotland Football game and watch that, drinking my Harp beer then a KilKenney. I soon realize how alone I am on the desolate island with no one to talk to, and realize the bar is not really welcoming me. I'm not locked arm in arm with my Irish brethren singing Irish drinking songs talking of good ole days in the country, so I return to the hostel to rest up and drive to Dublin in the morning.


The car goes straight, but the wheel is not. Hmmm....and notice the "Drive on Left" warning sticker in the window...



Get in the car still no GPS. I hit about 30 more roundabouts on my way to Dublin. There is a sign that states how many people have died on the M1 in 2007 alone, about 283 people. The Irish are known for thinking they are good drivers, and in reality are very bad, hence the high number on this stretch of road alone. Again, lets all drive on the right people, this is how humans should do this! I figure I haven't seen too many Ireland landmarks, and find a place called Bellingham Castle on my GPS when it kicks in. It's only 4 kilometers off the highway, so I bite. It's a small castle wall that is hiding a hotel resort behind it. This is not Neuschwanstein, Salzberg Fortress, or the Prague Castle, it's like a country club. A-holes. Back to the freeway. I make it to Dublin with 3 hours to spare, hoping to head to town and get some good Irish food, whatever that may be. I find Clancy's on the Magellan GPS, head there, it's inside a hotel near the airport. Next. Back down the main street I went on when I first got here. Everything is closed, just like Germ Town on Sundays. I find a shopping area with a lot of people, and think 'this place has to have food'! After 30 minutes of searching for parking, I gave up and returned to the airport to hand in my car, complain about the GPS, and go eat an airport sandwich specialty.


This trip was not like I imagined it would be, though I did everything I set out to do. I saw the race, that was priority number 1. After that, I saw Dublin and Belfast. You need 1 to 5 other people in your group to really make a go at the city, so maybe next time I can enjoy the bars and drinking like the Irishman I know I really am. She's a beautiful country she is, black teeth and all.

Parker