Right now, I’m in the honeymoon phase. But rather than tell you about the delights of Firenze, I’ll just show them to you instead. Enjoy the picture tour!
This next picture is indisputably something Sarah can appreciate.
Friday, January 29, 2010
New Stomping Grounds
There are four stages of culture shock: honeymoon, crises, acceptance, and adjustment.
Right now, I’m in the honeymoon phase. But rather than tell you about the delights of Firenze, I’ll just show them to you instead. Enjoy the picture tour!
This next picture is indisputably something Sarah can appreciate.
Right now, I’m in the honeymoon phase. But rather than tell you about the delights of Firenze, I’ll just show them to you instead. Enjoy the picture tour!
This next picture is indisputably something Sarah can appreciate.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Odysseus did not drink McCafe
There are constellations on the earth. A map, for those who sail the clouds.
Let me tell you, it pays to be small. When international planes made their seating plans, they must have had people under 5’3 in mind. Because there is no chance in hell anyone else would fit comfortably in those six inches of leg room. However, I learned as I trekked my way from the very back of the plane through the first and second class seats, that legroom is directly proportional to cost of ticket. The most outrageously priced ticket of all will even get you a bed. I saw it in the United catalogue.
Anyway.
I still can’t decide what was the most memorable part of my 12+ hour odyssey. But here are the undeniable highlights.
A. The only two viable movie options were ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ (which is considered a ‘classic’ of the 2000s. Did this not just come out last year?) and Michael Jackson’s ‘This Is It’. I did not watch either.
B. The man who, on two separate occasions, cursed out the stewardess because she could not accept cash for his shot of whiskey.
C.The wild sprint (yes, it was a literal sprint. You failed to mention that I had to get on a bus to get to the international terminal in Dellas Dad :P) through half of the Washington Airport trying to make my connecting flight to Germany in under an hour.
D. Flying over the Alps at sunset. Actually, as far as highlights go, this wins hands down. I wish I had possessed the presence of mind to take a picture.
I had a four hour layover in Frankfurt Germany. Here are some of the landmarks of the airport. Brace yourself, they’re wildly exciting.
International cat disapproves of your packing skillz. (Yeah, this was not taken in Frankfurt.)
Guten Tag! Welcome to Frankfurt. (Not Hamburg Mom!)
Bengal, standing vigil on my grossly obese backpack. Rawr. Behind him is the enormous vast expanse of the airport. It really is overwhelming. We had to take a bus from the plane to the actual terminal itself there was so much activity going on.
The McDonald’s in the Frankfurt Airport. I only ate here because I knew exactly what a chicken Mcnugget was, unlike the food in the other airport eateries. Don’t judge me. I was desperate.
This was almost two euros. That’s approximately three American dollars. And it’s from McDonald’s. See how it’s the size of the iPod? This does not bode well for my caffeine addiction in Europe.
Shockingly enough, I didn’t have any problems with my flights. I arrived in Florence at about six on the 27th and took the most harrowing taxi ride of my life to the apartment check-in point (if you are a nervous backseat driver DO NOT take a taxi over here oh god. You will go into cardiac arrest). I then took another taxi to my apartment, dragged my fifty pound luggage up ten flights of stairs to the top floor, and found my apartment. More on that later.
Let me tell you, it pays to be small. When international planes made their seating plans, they must have had people under 5’3 in mind. Because there is no chance in hell anyone else would fit comfortably in those six inches of leg room. However, I learned as I trekked my way from the very back of the plane through the first and second class seats, that legroom is directly proportional to cost of ticket. The most outrageously priced ticket of all will even get you a bed. I saw it in the United catalogue.
Anyway.
I still can’t decide what was the most memorable part of my 12+ hour odyssey. But here are the undeniable highlights.
A. The only two viable movie options were ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ (which is considered a ‘classic’ of the 2000s. Did this not just come out last year?) and Michael Jackson’s ‘This Is It’. I did not watch either.
B. The man who, on two separate occasions, cursed out the stewardess because she could not accept cash for his shot of whiskey.
C.The wild sprint (yes, it was a literal sprint. You failed to mention that I had to get on a bus to get to the international terminal in Dellas Dad :P) through half of the Washington Airport trying to make my connecting flight to Germany in under an hour.
D. Flying over the Alps at sunset. Actually, as far as highlights go, this wins hands down. I wish I had possessed the presence of mind to take a picture.
I had a four hour layover in Frankfurt Germany. Here are some of the landmarks of the airport. Brace yourself, they’re wildly exciting.
International cat disapproves of your packing skillz. (Yeah, this was not taken in Frankfurt.)
Guten Tag! Welcome to Frankfurt. (Not Hamburg Mom!)
Bengal, standing vigil on my grossly obese backpack. Rawr. Behind him is the enormous vast expanse of the airport. It really is overwhelming. We had to take a bus from the plane to the actual terminal itself there was so much activity going on.
The McDonald’s in the Frankfurt Airport. I only ate here because I knew exactly what a chicken Mcnugget was, unlike the food in the other airport eateries. Don’t judge me. I was desperate.
This was almost two euros. That’s approximately three American dollars. And it’s from McDonald’s. See how it’s the size of the iPod? This does not bode well for my caffeine addiction in Europe.
Shockingly enough, I didn’t have any problems with my flights. I arrived in Florence at about six on the 27th and took the most harrowing taxi ride of my life to the apartment check-in point (if you are a nervous backseat driver DO NOT take a taxi over here oh god. You will go into cardiac arrest). I then took another taxi to my apartment, dragged my fifty pound luggage up ten flights of stairs to the top floor, and found my apartment. More on that later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
