We had a wonderful, wonderful time in Boulder, Colorado. More than ever on this trip, I felt like being at home. In a real home. The cast of this Boulder home: Kristen our hostess, Ryan the boyfriend, Mary the roommate (or actually, housemate), Kristin the neighbour and Macaroni Mary’s little schnauzer-like dog. A typical day, Kristin, Ryan and us would cook dinner and play cards, Mary and Kristin making interesting attempts on baking banana pound cake. As it happened, there were two cakes, since the first one lacked milk, and some other vital ingredients. The whole thing felt very homy.
Boulder is a smallish college town just north of Denver, that we heard well of. Again, it seems that towns that are European in style, are those that Americans themselves like. It doesn’t take a genius to ask the question: why don’t they make more towns like that? Who knows. The streets in Boulder have sidewalks, there are people out walking, there are restaurants, bars and even stores with clothes that seem to be made to fit people. Not only real big people. Colorado people seem to be in better shape than others. I guess it’s because they’re all outdoor freaks, which is reasonable – the nature here is spectacular.
At the hip local mall, we tried to enter a store, but it was closed. We realized it was Sunday, and also that we had been talking about going to church and see what that’s like. Said and done. The First Presbyterian Church is where our GPS took us, and it was good stuff. There was music that was actually good (and not awkwardly cheesy), and speakers that actually had interesting things to say on the topic of the day (which was money – will it control you, ore can you control the money). Now, I don’t believe in the eternal life, so the pun was kind of lost, but everything up to that made sense, and was interesting.
Having been such good Christians, Kristen took us to a microbrewery where her brother happened to work. There is lots of good beer in the states, and the microbreweries is where to find it. It’s weird that the tasteless Bud, Miller and Coors are the only ones that are bestsellers, when there apparently is knowledge all around about how to make real beer. We had some of these real beers and played Boggle until it was time to go home. Never start with too nice a place when going out for a pub-crawl.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
There's always room for desert
West Texas was the start of the desert part of our trip. It is strange how this boring landscape can be so beautiful.
We needed to go to a travel agent to arrange some stuff, and we found one in El Paso, just by the Mexican border. In the office was Doris, an elderly American lady, who used to walk over to the Mexican sister town Juarez every Sunday to get her hair cut by her favourite barber and stroll around in what she describes as a colourful and culturally exciting environment. A couple of years ago, she stopped. Mexico had become too dangerous. Maybe it has gotten more dangerous. But it feels like the main reason is that Americans are getting increasingly afraid. And it feels like a shame. In Doris’ defence, it should be said that a relative of hers was kidnapped in Juarez some years back, and was released for the facile ransom of $30000. And that there was a shoot-out in her favourite restaurant there. Things that would scare most people, even iron-lady Doris.
Iron-man Robert and iron-man Anton were not intimidated. (Though we didn’t actually dare take our car over the border.) Our two days in Juarez offered an underground rock concert and a fun Mexican karaoke birthday party that ended in a fight between two of the attending girls. Fortunately, our Spanish was not good enough for us to understand what those girls were shouting to each other. Together with our hosts Sofia and Jover, we discretely left the party. Altogether, Juarez was lots of fun.
Outside Truth or Consequences (yes – that is the name of a town), New Mexico, we needed to stop for gas. Filling the tank, we realized that we also needed food. We had the best piece of meat I’ve ever had. Not many Swedes come to this charming desert town. Jeremy, a local, offered us some drinks, and a soak in natural hot springs. Unable to refuse the proposal, we stayed the night in T or C. They say the town has magical powers that make some people who just happen to pass through stay for good. Which is easy to believe.
There are maybe 5 roads in New Mexico. I’m not kidding. Not having many options, we ended up in Gallup, a dirty hole on the historic Route 66. We felt like staying at one place for a couple of days, but clearly Gallup was not the place. We continued straight through the Navajo Indian land of north-western New Mexico to the slightly larger town of Farmington, where we now look forward to having some peace for a day or two.
We needed to go to a travel agent to arrange some stuff, and we found one in El Paso, just by the Mexican border. In the office was Doris, an elderly American lady, who used to walk over to the Mexican sister town Juarez every Sunday to get her hair cut by her favourite barber and stroll around in what she describes as a colourful and culturally exciting environment. A couple of years ago, she stopped. Mexico had become too dangerous. Maybe it has gotten more dangerous. But it feels like the main reason is that Americans are getting increasingly afraid. And it feels like a shame. In Doris’ defence, it should be said that a relative of hers was kidnapped in Juarez some years back, and was released for the facile ransom of $30000. And that there was a shoot-out in her favourite restaurant there. Things that would scare most people, even iron-lady Doris.
Iron-man Robert and iron-man Anton were not intimidated. (Though we didn’t actually dare take our car over the border.) Our two days in Juarez offered an underground rock concert and a fun Mexican karaoke birthday party that ended in a fight between two of the attending girls. Fortunately, our Spanish was not good enough for us to understand what those girls were shouting to each other. Together with our hosts Sofia and Jover, we discretely left the party. Altogether, Juarez was lots of fun.
Outside Truth or Consequences (yes – that is the name of a town), New Mexico, we needed to stop for gas. Filling the tank, we realized that we also needed food. We had the best piece of meat I’ve ever had. Not many Swedes come to this charming desert town. Jeremy, a local, offered us some drinks, and a soak in natural hot springs. Unable to refuse the proposal, we stayed the night in T or C. They say the town has magical powers that make some people who just happen to pass through stay for good. Which is easy to believe.
There are maybe 5 roads in New Mexico. I’m not kidding. Not having many options, we ended up in Gallup, a dirty hole on the historic Route 66. We felt like staying at one place for a couple of days, but clearly Gallup was not the place. We continued straight through the Navajo Indian land of north-western New Mexico to the slightly larger town of Farmington, where we now look forward to having some peace for a day or two.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Hot, hot, hot
In Austin, we had a house to ourselves. Martin, an old school buddy of ours, let us stay in his house, in which he no longer lives since he moved in with his girlfriend. Now, I have to tell you that sitting out on the shady porch of your house, under a fan, with a cold beer or a glass of bourbon in your hand, is a very pleasant experience. But don’t get me wrong, Austin was no lazy days. I played golf for the first time in my life. I think you can imagine how that went, but it was great fun. We also played pool, bowled and went for a real Texas BBQ. Man, that stuff is good. I think we ate half a cow.
Austin has a big university. So we thought hey, let’s go to some random lecture, to see how those are here in the states. First, we stalked some people with backpacks, who seemed to be in a hurry. That led us to dark hallways, restrooms or in some cases nowhere. So instead, we tried to find the auditoriums. We finally did, and we now know more about accounting and first-order logic. We did not blend in as well as we thought we would. After looking at us nervously for the first ten minutes of the lecture, the logics teacher finally asked us: who are you and what are you doing here? She unwillingly bought our explanation (that there was no particular reason), after a short speech to the class about Virginia Tech.
Our first visit to a national park would be to Big Bend, right on the border to Mexico. It was spectacular. But also hot. So hot, in fact, I thought we might die. 45 degrees Celsius in the shade is a lot. And shade is a rare thing in a desert. Even so, we managed to make a hike in the dusk, and one in the dawn. In one of them, we had a close encounter with a mountain lion. Ok, we didn’t actually see the lion, but hearing it was scary enough for us to pick up some big rocks to use as weapons and hasten away.
As I write this, I’m in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, Texas, enjoying an air-con more than ever before.
Austin has a big university. So we thought hey, let’s go to some random lecture, to see how those are here in the states. First, we stalked some people with backpacks, who seemed to be in a hurry. That led us to dark hallways, restrooms or in some cases nowhere. So instead, we tried to find the auditoriums. We finally did, and we now know more about accounting and first-order logic. We did not blend in as well as we thought we would. After looking at us nervously for the first ten minutes of the lecture, the logics teacher finally asked us: who are you and what are you doing here? She unwillingly bought our explanation (that there was no particular reason), after a short speech to the class about Virginia Tech.
Our first visit to a national park would be to Big Bend, right on the border to Mexico. It was spectacular. But also hot. So hot, in fact, I thought we might die. 45 degrees Celsius in the shade is a lot. And shade is a rare thing in a desert. Even so, we managed to make a hike in the dusk, and one in the dawn. In one of them, we had a close encounter with a mountain lion. Ok, we didn’t actually see the lion, but hearing it was scary enough for us to pick up some big rocks to use as weapons and hasten away.
As I write this, I’m in a motel room in the middle of nowhere, Texas, enjoying an air-con more than ever before.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Guatemalamania
I always feel empty inside when returning from an intense experience. I was sad to leave Guatemala.
Yes, we left the country for a week. Anton went to Argentina to meet up with his girlfriend, I went to Guatemala. I knew absolutely nothing about Guatemala. And I had never really traveled on my own before. But I would not be lonely. In Antigua, I stayed with Cynthia, a Guatemalan restaurant manager chick, who at the same time hosted German coffee expert Thomas, British DJ Adam, and American teacher Ben. The five of us became what Guatemalans for a long time will remember as The Gang. Antigua is a cute little town full of life. The Gang was invited to have a barbecue at Priscilla’s porch, so we went to the market to buy what we needed: prawns, chicken, avocados, peppers, pineapples, bananas, mangoes, garlic and lemons. All obviously locally produced, and ours for a couple of bucks. Also, to Priscilla’s surprise, we bought a live rooster, who she now keeps as her pet.
There are active volcanoes in Guatemala, and I and Adam decided we’d go climb one. It was actually really cool. At the top, all forces of nature tried to tell us: guys, you’re not supposed to be here. There was fog and thunder and lightning (that once even struck the very mountain top we were on), and of course there was the lava. And then the rain started pouring and I was soaked within minutes. And then Adam slipped on the magma gravel and cut his hand pretty deep. There we stood, trying to tie a piece of cloth around his hand, while nature roared. The only good thing was that as long as we were close to the lava, we were warm. But of course, as we started to climb down, it got really, really cold.
The two-day trip that I, Adam and Thomas made to lake Atitlan, was far more comfortable. On arrival, we had lunch at restaurant Buddha in San Pedro, which might be the most relaxed place on earth. Big sofas on the second floor, overlooking the mountain lake and its surrounding green and lush volcanoes. After lunch, we just chilled and had a couple of beers, until it was time for dinner. We ended up staying until they closed, all the time comfortably horizontal.
On a trip around the lake, Thomas taught us all thee is to know about coffee, which grows abundantly in the region. Back in Antigua, it was time to say good-bye to all these fantastic people and wonderful places. The car was waiting for me at the Dallas international airport, and I must admit that it felt as if I had not seen that car for months.
Yes, we left the country for a week. Anton went to Argentina to meet up with his girlfriend, I went to Guatemala. I knew absolutely nothing about Guatemala. And I had never really traveled on my own before. But I would not be lonely. In Antigua, I stayed with Cynthia, a Guatemalan restaurant manager chick, who at the same time hosted German coffee expert Thomas, British DJ Adam, and American teacher Ben. The five of us became what Guatemalans for a long time will remember as The Gang. Antigua is a cute little town full of life. The Gang was invited to have a barbecue at Priscilla’s porch, so we went to the market to buy what we needed: prawns, chicken, avocados, peppers, pineapples, bananas, mangoes, garlic and lemons. All obviously locally produced, and ours for a couple of bucks. Also, to Priscilla’s surprise, we bought a live rooster, who she now keeps as her pet.
There are active volcanoes in Guatemala, and I and Adam decided we’d go climb one. It was actually really cool. At the top, all forces of nature tried to tell us: guys, you’re not supposed to be here. There was fog and thunder and lightning (that once even struck the very mountain top we were on), and of course there was the lava. And then the rain started pouring and I was soaked within minutes. And then Adam slipped on the magma gravel and cut his hand pretty deep. There we stood, trying to tie a piece of cloth around his hand, while nature roared. The only good thing was that as long as we were close to the lava, we were warm. But of course, as we started to climb down, it got really, really cold.
The two-day trip that I, Adam and Thomas made to lake Atitlan, was far more comfortable. On arrival, we had lunch at restaurant Buddha in San Pedro, which might be the most relaxed place on earth. Big sofas on the second floor, overlooking the mountain lake and its surrounding green and lush volcanoes. After lunch, we just chilled and had a couple of beers, until it was time for dinner. We ended up staying until they closed, all the time comfortably horizontal.
On a trip around the lake, Thomas taught us all thee is to know about coffee, which grows abundantly in the region. Back in Antigua, it was time to say good-bye to all these fantastic people and wonderful places. The car was waiting for me at the Dallas international airport, and I must admit that it felt as if I had not seen that car for months.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Sick in Ghost town
What strikes me more and more about the US is that there is nothing here. And the things that are, are all the same everywhere: McDonald’s, KFC, Dunkin' Donuts and Wal-Mart. Host Mark told us that there were so many things around in Panama City, but we didn’t believe him. And we were right. The city was dead. Not only is there no cafés, restaurants or stores, there are no people. The towns are empty. Anyhow, through Mark, we finally met some nice people and had a good time.
In Pensacola Beach, we took in to the fanciest hotel so far. To little use for me, it would turn out. I got sick, and just stayed in bed all the time.
New Orleans, as opposed to Panama City and most other cities here, is very European. European is good. European means diverse and lively. Here, there are stores, cafés and restaurants (which still mostly serve deep-fried grease with gravy), and people out in the streets. And of course bars with live music. We went on a swamp tour, where we saw some alligators, and we went to the Laura Plantations, which is some sort of historic site where the Creoles used to grow sugar. Not being big fans of historic sites, the plantations exceeded our expectations. Probably mostly due to the guide who knew the secrets of storytelling. Some days of jazz and Creole history later, we set off for a new part of our trip: Texas.
In Pensacola Beach, we took in to the fanciest hotel so far. To little use for me, it would turn out. I got sick, and just stayed in bed all the time.
New Orleans, as opposed to Panama City and most other cities here, is very European. European is good. European means diverse and lively. Here, there are stores, cafés and restaurants (which still mostly serve deep-fried grease with gravy), and people out in the streets. And of course bars with live music. We went on a swamp tour, where we saw some alligators, and we went to the Laura Plantations, which is some sort of historic site where the Creoles used to grow sugar. Not being big fans of historic sites, the plantations exceeded our expectations. Probably mostly due to the guide who knew the secrets of storytelling. Some days of jazz and Creole history later, we set off for a new part of our trip: Texas.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Just another week in the south
I had this romantic idea of our car breaking down somewhere in the desert, forcing us to walk for miles and miles, until we ran out of water. Well, the car broke down at a big parking lot outside a Wal-Mart. The ride with the tower was a good experience though. He was a big Nice Inch Nails fan, and I got to hear the latest album at a freakishly high volume.
This was yesterday. A week ago or so, we stayed in a house in midtown Memphis. We never really understood who lived in this house. It was some sort of art hippie vegan community type thing, where people just seemed to come and go. You know the type: drawings and poetry on the walls, some old wheelchair as improvised furniture, some old sofa from a dumpster out on the porch. We brought bourbon and nachos, and so we were much welcomed. Also, we installed a shower and ripped out the floor from a room where a new guy was to live together with a bunch of robots. He was a robotics artist hoping to get to Hollywood working with robotic special effects.
In Alabama, we stayed with Curt and Salina. Both of them being white water freaks, we went for a two day trip to the Appalachians. Day one was white water kayaking, day two was rafting. Kayaking is really lots cooler than rafting. Rafting, as our guide put it, is like running down the stream in a Cadillac.
After a night with the mechanics, the car works fine now, and it took us down to Panama City, Florida, with no problems. Although we did get stopped by the police, who thought that we were drug dealers and interrogated us for 15 minutes. Fortunately, we're not drug dealers, so we finally got out of it.
This was yesterday. A week ago or so, we stayed in a house in midtown Memphis. We never really understood who lived in this house. It was some sort of art hippie vegan community type thing, where people just seemed to come and go. You know the type: drawings and poetry on the walls, some old wheelchair as improvised furniture, some old sofa from a dumpster out on the porch. We brought bourbon and nachos, and so we were much welcomed. Also, we installed a shower and ripped out the floor from a room where a new guy was to live together with a bunch of robots. He was a robotics artist hoping to get to Hollywood working with robotic special effects.
In Alabama, we stayed with Curt and Salina. Both of them being white water freaks, we went for a two day trip to the Appalachians. Day one was white water kayaking, day two was rafting. Kayaking is really lots cooler than rafting. Rafting, as our guide put it, is like running down the stream in a Cadillac.
After a night with the mechanics, the car works fine now, and it took us down to Panama City, Florida, with no problems. Although we did get stopped by the police, who thought that we were drug dealers and interrogated us for 15 minutes. Fortunately, we're not drug dealers, so we finally got out of it.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Crazy days
St Louis was two days loaded with experience. Hannah had a tiny dirty apartment, and no less than four guests: her boyfriend, an Australian couchsurfer, and us. Our queen size air mattress came in handy. And took up the entire floor. With Hannah, there was non-stop action. She took us to a dodgy bar god knows where, where we ended up having the best time with her and her many, many friends all night long.
Odd enough for an Aussie, Will was a big baseball fan. So we tagged along to the Chicago Cubs vs St Louis Cardinals game that he was supposed to see with some girl. Me and Anton bought a pair of tickets. Obviously, we had no clue as to the rules and tactics of this all American sport. Luckily, two or three parties of people around us engaged greatly in explaining it all. Again, we had made new friends. And so had they: apparently the joint task of explaining baseball to Swedes overshadowed the rivalry between Cubs and Cardinals fans. We all went out for drinks, and met Al Hrabosky, aka The Mad Hungarian. We had no clue who he was, but as Cardinals fan Matt put it: this for us is what it would be for you to meet Péle. I even got to touch his World Series ring. Yes, he was actually wearing it. As for Aussie-boy Will, that girl never showed up so he never even saw the game.
The following days were not as eventful, and more traditionally touristy. Lousville, Kentucky, was an interesting experience. We came at night, stayed at a creepy motel where we thought we would be killed, and left early in the morning. Without knowing our general direction for the day, we went for a short tour in the Mammoth Caves and to the Jim Beam distillery. This Sunday, however, we could not do the presumably nicest part of the distillery tour – the tasting of bourbons. Illegal, on Sundays. Sweden flashback.
Nashville, Tennessee, the home of country music. Here, there are bars that have live music acts every day. And nothing else. Lucky for us, this is the best motel so far. We’re enjoying the pool, the clean sheets, and the lack of old coke cans and used napkins under our beds.
Odd enough for an Aussie, Will was a big baseball fan. So we tagged along to the Chicago Cubs vs St Louis Cardinals game that he was supposed to see with some girl. Me and Anton bought a pair of tickets. Obviously, we had no clue as to the rules and tactics of this all American sport. Luckily, two or three parties of people around us engaged greatly in explaining it all. Again, we had made new friends. And so had they: apparently the joint task of explaining baseball to Swedes overshadowed the rivalry between Cubs and Cardinals fans. We all went out for drinks, and met Al Hrabosky, aka The Mad Hungarian. We had no clue who he was, but as Cardinals fan Matt put it: this for us is what it would be for you to meet Péle. I even got to touch his World Series ring. Yes, he was actually wearing it. As for Aussie-boy Will, that girl never showed up so he never even saw the game.
The following days were not as eventful, and more traditionally touristy. Lousville, Kentucky, was an interesting experience. We came at night, stayed at a creepy motel where we thought we would be killed, and left early in the morning. Without knowing our general direction for the day, we went for a short tour in the Mammoth Caves and to the Jim Beam distillery. This Sunday, however, we could not do the presumably nicest part of the distillery tour – the tasting of bourbons. Illegal, on Sundays. Sweden flashback.
Nashville, Tennessee, the home of country music. Here, there are bars that have live music acts every day. And nothing else. Lucky for us, this is the best motel so far. We’re enjoying the pool, the clean sheets, and the lack of old coke cans and used napkins under our beds.
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