Right. It's December 27th, and I'm back in the office. Christmas break? I've got to say it was a little too short. Of course, my life is right on scale with those little inflatable bouncy rooms that everyone seems to be renting for their kids' birthday parties these days.
After a nice paella with Fran's family on Christmas afternoon, I picked up a few things at casa Tomas Trenor, then headed back to my apartment, threw a few more things in a bag, then jumped on a metro to meet a couple of friends for a Christmas evening drink. I wasn't feeling too comfortable with my packing situation; surely it would be a minor miracle to get everything stuffed into two bags and a backpack, but I figured I would calm myself down a bit with a couple of pints in town.
I'd already hung out with Jose Miguel, but was on the hook for seeing his sister Gemma. Fortunately, Gemma, another friend Maria and I managed to have a few pints at Sherlock Holmes pub, which is a few minutes walk from Finnegan's (which was closed for Christmas).
In the past few years, my Christmas night has been spent with Lynne and Fran, usually watching a movie and being lazy around the house. This year was a bit different, since I only stayed with them on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Thus, they were free to lounge around by themselves without me plunking about.
Pints with Gemma and Maria was just the ticket. You never know who will be out and about on Christmas night, but the crowd was small in Sherlock Holmes, and festive. I was flattered that both Gemma and Maria complemented me on my Spanish; I was a regular chatterbox. We cut the evening short, however, as both of them had to work on the 26th.
This actually suited me fine, as I managed to finish most of my creative packing before midnight.
Boxing Day morning came all too quickly, and I ran about the apartment trying to clean up as best I could: this was my final day in the Alboraya apartment. I wasn't too motivated, but was short on time. Dang, isn't that the story of my life right now?
Lynne, Fran, and Daniel were to come by around 10 to bid farewells, collect the keys, and put me in a taxi to the airport. Around 10.45 without their arrival, I was getting antsy, smoking a pocketful of ciggy outside on the street. With the long lines in airports these days, even smaller sized airports, I wanted to be sure I had sufficient time to check in and all that. I was already concerned that the "your luggage is too damn heavy" police would give me trouble at the airport, and I'd be forced to either pay extra for transport, or worse, discard items that I wanted to take with me to Germany. OK, the book 501 Spanish Verbs may not seem like the most needed item for an American living in Germany, but it's a close friend to me.
At 11am, I saw Fran's car pull around the corner. Fran and I said a quick goodbye, then he left to attend a mass in memory of his father, who passed away several years ago. Lynne and Daniel stayed with me to inspect the apartment; Lynne would have to bat clean-up here, getting a few leftovers back to her place, returning the keys to the casera, etc. I'm very thankful for her help.
From there, we trudged down the street to a little café next to a taxi stand, and had one last cortado before I headed for the airport. As usual, I don't like goodbyes, nor do I like having all my stuff in various hotels around Europe. But, I needed to get to the airport. A big hug from sis helped, and Daniel, who wasn't feeling very friendly, finally came around and gave me a little hug and kiss of his own. I missed them before I even got in the cab.
I chatted with the cab driver on the way to the airport, and was flattered for the umpteenth time when he said he was impressed with my ability in Spanish. We talked about red meat, overweight Americans, and Mozart (only in Valencia, eh?) en route, and got to the airport about an hour and a half before my flight was to leave.
Check-in was a breeze, so I had time for another café and some smokes, then took the prop-job to Madrid, where I discovered that my ticket was too restricted to allow for any schedule changes in the flight to Frankfurt. Thus, I had about five hours to kill in Terminal 4 of Barajas.
I sat down at an empty bank of seats, and just sort of reflected a moment, then opened up a book my sister gave me to read, The Labyrinth. It was pretty engrossing, and I absolutely love to read, so I was actually pretty content. From time to time, I ate a couple of Christmas cookies from the tray that Lynne had prepared for me. I had almost left them behind on the account of lack of space factor, but am so very glad that I didn't. My sister still has a touch for whipping up toll house, decorated cookies, truffas, and I was set. In short, I made the most of my Boxing Day, though I would have gladly preferred to be somewhere other than the airport.
Our flight left on time from Frankfurt around 8pm, and we landed 2 and half hours later. My luggage arrived, I grabbed a cab, and 50 euros later was walking in the front door of my hotel, saying hello to my buddy Herr Fuhr, who's been watching out for me during my stay. We exchanged pleasantries (I really thought I'd turn 40 or 50 years old before using the word pleasantries), then I headed upstairs to catch a bit of sleep.
It's a grey day here on the 27th, and I'm catching up on all the emails from the past week. Fortunately a lot of people are out on holiday, so it's quiet. However, it is -1 degree right now. That's fucking cold. No snow at the moment, but it could come at any time. Can't wait til I can get an apartment and figure out how to use public transportation. Trudging three blocks through the slush to the U-Bahn stop just sounds neat.
thanks for all the updates, well wishes, and festive greetings.
keep the faith
bryan
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
Weihnachten, Noche Buena y la noche antes
It´s kind of a neat feeling to be back in Valencia for a few days after an action packed December in Germany and the UK. Being Christmas, it's not particularly quiet, what with shoppers rushing about in the streets and such. However, though I´ve been in the streets a bit myself, I´ve not been one of the shoppers.
Only with the slightest bit of guilt to I find myself on Christmas morning having no gifts to give anyone. OK, I actually feel a bit more guilty, but the truth of the matter is that I prefer to give a gift attached to some sentiment rather than simply buying another object for someone just to say it was a Christmas gift. Well, I´ve not been able to do any kind of shopping over the past month whatsoever. And I refuse to buy something in the bloody airport.
My nephew is just starting to understand how things work, and fortunately, he's too excited with his new firetruck with hook and ladder and working lights to be upset because he doesn't have a present from me today. (He'll be getting something from Uncle B in good time, maybe in time for King's Day, which, in fact, is the more celebrated holiday in Spain.)
I'm simply glad to be spending the holiday with Lynne, Fran, and Daniel. I've continued my tradition (8 years and counting), and this year the added positive was that I also have friends and routines from my own experience here during 2006. I arrived on Wednesday evening, saw my sister briefly on Thursday, and finally saw F and D on Friday evening; I was using the free time to see folks who were going to be out of town for their Christmas holidays.
Obviously this included several trips to the pub. Duh.
I can't stop liking pubs, and have fond memories of the Dub and the Monk in Dallas with their Christmas decorations and hot drinks. The recent week in Colchester involved several moments of pub time, and again, it was nice to see the decorations and the festive atmosphere.
Finnegan's is certainly no different. Over the course of the past few days, I´ve shared some great moments with friends, old regulars, colleagues from Casa Americana, and have met several other new friends. Personally, I´m glad to have spent the time getting into the Christmas spirit as opposed to fighting crowds trying to find some gift for someone.
Saturday afternoon, I went in to wish everyone a great holiday. The bar closes on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, which is extremely nice for the employees. However, there was one employee there that I was particularly interested in talking to. I´ve been trying for months to get up enough nerve to talk to her a bit more, and of course, about the time I get my confidence, I up and move out of the country. (pause while I try to work through the deja vu I´m feeling at present moment)
At any rate, with the help of a couple of pints of Guinness, along with a 6-2 victory by Arsenal over Blackburn, I was ready to talk at 6pm when she finished work. Unfortunately, she was leaving for her hometown in a few hours, and had to rush home to finish preparing for the trip.
Instead of letting her walk out of the bar, I grabbed my jacket and said, "I´m coming along," and together we walked to the metro stop 10 minutes away at Colon. As usual, I couldn't get off the small talk for the first five minutes, and it didn't help that there was some sort of demonstration going on in a street that we were crossing, creating further traffic to a busy shopping evening.
Thank goodness I finally came to my senses as we were getting closer to the metro stop. With a bit of an effort, I conveyed what I wanted to say, somewhat tactfully, I might add. I certainly don't deserve any points for waiting until the last possible moment to let someone know that I would really like to go out with them, and the irony is that just when I´m really able to say that in Spanish with a straight face, I don't actually live in Spain.
However, I told her. She´s a nice girl, and pretty much the only girl in Spain that I felt like telling that to. I was willing to break the rule about dating someone that works in your pub, simply because this girl is that cool, even based on the few times that we´ve actually hung out. I think I did score some points with her for flattery, not to mention surprise, and because the conversation ended with the traditional two besos at the metro stop with the agreement that we´ll see one another in 2007 in either Germany or Spain, who knows. At least I know a really cool girl in Spain who seems to like me at least a little bit. And being friends is most important, particularly in the situation where you´re bouncing all over the world right now like I seem to be.
I left the metro stop and walked back to Finnegan´s to finish my pint and start another, feeling very good about things. I spent the rest of the evening wishing friends and strangers Merry Christmas, and was fortunate that my buddy Jose Miguel had time to come out for a drink or two. That ultimately turned into some tapas in Barrio del Carmen, and we had a good time mucking about.
I work up Christmas eve morning feeling a slight ping in the head, but with a lingering smile (I talked to a pretty girl last night!). The choir was having a concert in a town close to Valencia, and I was glad to have the chance to see my choir friends perform. It was pretty cold inside the church, but the choir sang really well, and as they performed their final number, I realized that I needed to have the experience to help set the Christmas mood.
We ate in a restaurant in El Palmar that I´ve been to several times before, and it was nice to be recognized by some of the staff. Good fideua, nice wine, and a carajillo, and I was ready for a nap. Instead, however, it was bake as many Christmas cookies as possible before heading to Xuso and Mireya´s for Noche Buena.
Lynne and I powered through, with the creative help from Daniel. It´s always a nervous moment working with baking products around a four year old, but he did really well. I was rolling truffa balls as fast as I could, and Lynne was doing about 15 things at once. Hot stove, warm oven, chocolate and egg beaters; any of these could turn into problems very quickly, especially with the little one racing around the house pretty psyched up for the coming days.
It all paid off, though, because by 9.30, we were sitting at X and M´s, hanging out for Christmas Eve dinner. The kids all played, the craic was good, and just about all you could expect from the night before Christmas.
I even watched a bit of It´s a Wonderful Life before drifting off to sleep.
So it's the 25th, and I´m signing off, cos' I´d rather have another coffee then continue to type.
Feliz navidad, Schöne Weihnachten, and Happy Christmas.
Please have a safe and happy season, and a peaceful new year.
bryan
Only with the slightest bit of guilt to I find myself on Christmas morning having no gifts to give anyone. OK, I actually feel a bit more guilty, but the truth of the matter is that I prefer to give a gift attached to some sentiment rather than simply buying another object for someone just to say it was a Christmas gift. Well, I´ve not been able to do any kind of shopping over the past month whatsoever. And I refuse to buy something in the bloody airport.
My nephew is just starting to understand how things work, and fortunately, he's too excited with his new firetruck with hook and ladder and working lights to be upset because he doesn't have a present from me today. (He'll be getting something from Uncle B in good time, maybe in time for King's Day, which, in fact, is the more celebrated holiday in Spain.)
I'm simply glad to be spending the holiday with Lynne, Fran, and Daniel. I've continued my tradition (8 years and counting), and this year the added positive was that I also have friends and routines from my own experience here during 2006. I arrived on Wednesday evening, saw my sister briefly on Thursday, and finally saw F and D on Friday evening; I was using the free time to see folks who were going to be out of town for their Christmas holidays.
Obviously this included several trips to the pub. Duh.
I can't stop liking pubs, and have fond memories of the Dub and the Monk in Dallas with their Christmas decorations and hot drinks. The recent week in Colchester involved several moments of pub time, and again, it was nice to see the decorations and the festive atmosphere.
Finnegan's is certainly no different. Over the course of the past few days, I´ve shared some great moments with friends, old regulars, colleagues from Casa Americana, and have met several other new friends. Personally, I´m glad to have spent the time getting into the Christmas spirit as opposed to fighting crowds trying to find some gift for someone.
Saturday afternoon, I went in to wish everyone a great holiday. The bar closes on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, which is extremely nice for the employees. However, there was one employee there that I was particularly interested in talking to. I´ve been trying for months to get up enough nerve to talk to her a bit more, and of course, about the time I get my confidence, I up and move out of the country. (pause while I try to work through the deja vu I´m feeling at present moment)
At any rate, with the help of a couple of pints of Guinness, along with a 6-2 victory by Arsenal over Blackburn, I was ready to talk at 6pm when she finished work. Unfortunately, she was leaving for her hometown in a few hours, and had to rush home to finish preparing for the trip.
Instead of letting her walk out of the bar, I grabbed my jacket and said, "I´m coming along," and together we walked to the metro stop 10 minutes away at Colon. As usual, I couldn't get off the small talk for the first five minutes, and it didn't help that there was some sort of demonstration going on in a street that we were crossing, creating further traffic to a busy shopping evening.
Thank goodness I finally came to my senses as we were getting closer to the metro stop. With a bit of an effort, I conveyed what I wanted to say, somewhat tactfully, I might add. I certainly don't deserve any points for waiting until the last possible moment to let someone know that I would really like to go out with them, and the irony is that just when I´m really able to say that in Spanish with a straight face, I don't actually live in Spain.
However, I told her. She´s a nice girl, and pretty much the only girl in Spain that I felt like telling that to. I was willing to break the rule about dating someone that works in your pub, simply because this girl is that cool, even based on the few times that we´ve actually hung out. I think I did score some points with her for flattery, not to mention surprise, and because the conversation ended with the traditional two besos at the metro stop with the agreement that we´ll see one another in 2007 in either Germany or Spain, who knows. At least I know a really cool girl in Spain who seems to like me at least a little bit. And being friends is most important, particularly in the situation where you´re bouncing all over the world right now like I seem to be.
I left the metro stop and walked back to Finnegan´s to finish my pint and start another, feeling very good about things. I spent the rest of the evening wishing friends and strangers Merry Christmas, and was fortunate that my buddy Jose Miguel had time to come out for a drink or two. That ultimately turned into some tapas in Barrio del Carmen, and we had a good time mucking about.
I work up Christmas eve morning feeling a slight ping in the head, but with a lingering smile (I talked to a pretty girl last night!). The choir was having a concert in a town close to Valencia, and I was glad to have the chance to see my choir friends perform. It was pretty cold inside the church, but the choir sang really well, and as they performed their final number, I realized that I needed to have the experience to help set the Christmas mood.
We ate in a restaurant in El Palmar that I´ve been to several times before, and it was nice to be recognized by some of the staff. Good fideua, nice wine, and a carajillo, and I was ready for a nap. Instead, however, it was bake as many Christmas cookies as possible before heading to Xuso and Mireya´s for Noche Buena.
Lynne and I powered through, with the creative help from Daniel. It´s always a nervous moment working with baking products around a four year old, but he did really well. I was rolling truffa balls as fast as I could, and Lynne was doing about 15 things at once. Hot stove, warm oven, chocolate and egg beaters; any of these could turn into problems very quickly, especially with the little one racing around the house pretty psyched up for the coming days.
It all paid off, though, because by 9.30, we were sitting at X and M´s, hanging out for Christmas Eve dinner. The kids all played, the craic was good, and just about all you could expect from the night before Christmas.
I even watched a bit of It´s a Wonderful Life before drifting off to sleep.
So it's the 25th, and I´m signing off, cos' I´d rather have another coffee then continue to type.
Feliz navidad, Schöne Weihnachten, and Happy Christmas.
Please have a safe and happy season, and a peaceful new year.
bryan
Sunday, December 17, 2006
A dream of Festivus
OK, so I spent about 12 hours a day working in Colchester last week, trying frantically to get things going in a project. I've worked with that group before, but it was my first time in the facility. A good group of folks, and quite the experience.
It was nice trading comments with their general manager about football; he supports West Ham and kept trying to tell me that Arsenal wasn't a football club. Of course, he didn't have solid ground to stand on, as WH are struggling at the moment. They've got a new coach as of midweek, and it'll be a surprise if they can truly recover form. Then again, Arsenal had to claw a point out of their game yesterday against Portsmouth by coming from 2 goals down. I'm truly hoping that Arsenal find a way to return to their own form very quickly.
The workweek was extremely busy, but I did manage to have a few pints with some of my new colleagues, as well as my old managing director. Friday night, two of the guys from Dallas and I went to a Spanish restaurant for tapas. I was most impressed. I had been earlier in the week with a couple of clients, and had little trouble getting excited about a return trip. The family apparently comes from Andalucia, and they're very very nice, particularly our cute waitress, Estrella, from Friday night.
After several pitchers of sangria, the three of us had chupitos, then headed down the highstreet to the Hippodrome, a popular Colchester disco. They weren't quite open, so we had a pint next door in another pub full of Christmas partiers, meaning that most people were fairly well oiled, having begun their festivities several hours earlier in the afternoon.
Around 10.30, we queued up outside the disco, then got chatted up by a rather drunk local girl who was responsible for her office's party. She was trying to tell us that we were too old to be going clubbing, but of course, she was in line to go to the same queue. Eventually, however, her group tired of waiting, so they left before we actually got inside.
Once inside, the three of us grabbed pints, and watched the scene. As discos go, I prefer those from Spain, but with the holiday season in gear, it was nice to see the little Santa's helpers outfits being worn. Ultimately, I was reminded of the club scene from the film Trainspotting, though I was hoping that I wouldn't be clocked by any lager louts in the restroom.
After a couple of hours and a few more pints, we headed to another pub in time for two more shots (note to self - will I ever really learn?), another beer, and a suggestion that we go to an after hours place for a last drink.
Well, we trooped over to the next place only to find it closed to new customers. Not too surprising, considering the time (about 2am), but a bit annoying that the employee at the other pub had suggested the place to us. How come she didn't know the hours they'd be open?
At 2.30am, we were standing out in the street, and it was raining a fair amount. Furthermore, everyone else was outside trying to get a taxi, of which there are very few in the town of Colchester. Finally, thank goodness, we managed a taxi, and got back to our business hotel.
Two of us had to catch early taxis to our airports. I was leaving from Heathrow, and my American boss was leaving from Gatwick. Both airports are almost two hours away from Colchester. As my flight was leaving around 9.50, I needed to leave around 5.30 to get to the airport in time for check-in and lots of security checks.
After a night on the town, the mind sometimes makes some interesting choices. Rather than trying to catch a quick nap before the early start, I elected to have a couple more pints in the hotel bar with the night duty desk clerk. Fun as that was, my intake finally reached it's limit. I headed to my room to pack up, but made the mistake of sitting down on the bed, "only for a minute."
At 5.30, my phone rang with news that my taxi was waiting. I frantically threw my gear in my bag, hoped I wasn't forgetting anything, ran downstairs, paid the hotel bill, and rode to Heathrow, fading in and out of consciousness.
We arrived at Heathrow, I bid farewell to my taxi guy, then walked inside to the Lufthansa check-in desk to find hundreds of people already queued up. I hadn't looked in the mirror in what seemed like days, and I kept noticing a smell that I feared was coming from my person. On top of that, my mouth tasted like I'd just cleaned the floor with my tongue, and I sort of wanted a quiet safe haven.
Eventually, I got checked in, took care of business, went through three security checks, and still smelled bad. We boarded our flight on time, but then got to sit on the airplane for an hour before take off. Many passengers suddenly realized that they were going to miss their connections in Frankfurt, so everyone was a bit tense. I was glad that I'd be home soon enough, and particularly glad of the opportunity to shower.
Obviously the plane arrived an hour late, but I collected my bag, walked outside to the taxi stand, and was back at my hotel around 2pm. Oliver, the manager, was there to greet me, and made me a nice espresso while I logged on to check emails. I had a quick chat with my sister, who told me about their busy week in Valencia, then went upstairs for a bit of nap.
I wasn't feeling very hungry, but I was very tired on all fronts. Busy work week, no sleep from the previous night, and then a return to a German speaking environment. I already know that it's going to be very stressful in the coming months, and I find myself needing a bit of time to think about things a bit.
The project I'm working on has as first deadline of January 1, and it's going to be tough to get everything ready. There has not been much time for a lot of carol singing, etc. Christmas is a week away, and I've done no shopping, and don't think I'm going to have much time to shop anyway. I'm not too worried, actually, but would like a bit of Christmas spirit. I was in Colchester when the Weiterstadt team held their Christmas party, and Colchester has their party later this week, which I will miss also. That said, there are little Christmas markets in Germany, and I might run down the street to explore the one in Darmstadt a little later this afternoon. I might even find a few gifts.
This morning, my phone rang at 5.30am once again, but this time it was Chris calling to see if I had any grievances. Festivus was held at Goliad last night! Yet another party I had to miss, but I was glad to at least be included via telephone. My only grievance might have been that it's not always great when someone forgets to check the difference in time zones, but I was so out of it on the phone that I couldn't even think to say anything. I could hardly hear anything except for loads of people who seemed to have had several glasses of punch each all talking at once.
Thanks for the call, McKee. I wish I had been more alert. Maybe I'll call you in a couple of hours and return the cheer.
So it's Sunday afternoon, and I'm sitting in the hotel bar having a Kaffee. The weather is certainly chilly, and I'm starting to get in the Christmas spirit. I will work Monday and Tuesday in Germany, then return to Valencia for a quick visit, one that I'm really looking forward to.
With a little luck, one more shower will remove the last of the smell (did I step in something or what!!!???), and I'll get all my expense reports completed and approved. More on the joys of submitting expense reports in pounds, euros, and dollars later.
For now, I need to work on my feats of strength.
keep the faith
bryan
Atlanta hotel Darmstadt
suggested soundtrack:
Wham! - Last Christmas (ok, just joking)
Take That - Patience (ok, just joking again)
Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit
It was nice trading comments with their general manager about football; he supports West Ham and kept trying to tell me that Arsenal wasn't a football club. Of course, he didn't have solid ground to stand on, as WH are struggling at the moment. They've got a new coach as of midweek, and it'll be a surprise if they can truly recover form. Then again, Arsenal had to claw a point out of their game yesterday against Portsmouth by coming from 2 goals down. I'm truly hoping that Arsenal find a way to return to their own form very quickly.
The workweek was extremely busy, but I did manage to have a few pints with some of my new colleagues, as well as my old managing director. Friday night, two of the guys from Dallas and I went to a Spanish restaurant for tapas. I was most impressed. I had been earlier in the week with a couple of clients, and had little trouble getting excited about a return trip. The family apparently comes from Andalucia, and they're very very nice, particularly our cute waitress, Estrella, from Friday night.
After several pitchers of sangria, the three of us had chupitos, then headed down the highstreet to the Hippodrome, a popular Colchester disco. They weren't quite open, so we had a pint next door in another pub full of Christmas partiers, meaning that most people were fairly well oiled, having begun their festivities several hours earlier in the afternoon.
Around 10.30, we queued up outside the disco, then got chatted up by a rather drunk local girl who was responsible for her office's party. She was trying to tell us that we were too old to be going clubbing, but of course, she was in line to go to the same queue. Eventually, however, her group tired of waiting, so they left before we actually got inside.
Once inside, the three of us grabbed pints, and watched the scene. As discos go, I prefer those from Spain, but with the holiday season in gear, it was nice to see the little Santa's helpers outfits being worn. Ultimately, I was reminded of the club scene from the film Trainspotting, though I was hoping that I wouldn't be clocked by any lager louts in the restroom.
After a couple of hours and a few more pints, we headed to another pub in time for two more shots (note to self - will I ever really learn?), another beer, and a suggestion that we go to an after hours place for a last drink.
Well, we trooped over to the next place only to find it closed to new customers. Not too surprising, considering the time (about 2am), but a bit annoying that the employee at the other pub had suggested the place to us. How come she didn't know the hours they'd be open?
At 2.30am, we were standing out in the street, and it was raining a fair amount. Furthermore, everyone else was outside trying to get a taxi, of which there are very few in the town of Colchester. Finally, thank goodness, we managed a taxi, and got back to our business hotel.
Two of us had to catch early taxis to our airports. I was leaving from Heathrow, and my American boss was leaving from Gatwick. Both airports are almost two hours away from Colchester. As my flight was leaving around 9.50, I needed to leave around 5.30 to get to the airport in time for check-in and lots of security checks.
After a night on the town, the mind sometimes makes some interesting choices. Rather than trying to catch a quick nap before the early start, I elected to have a couple more pints in the hotel bar with the night duty desk clerk. Fun as that was, my intake finally reached it's limit. I headed to my room to pack up, but made the mistake of sitting down on the bed, "only for a minute."
At 5.30, my phone rang with news that my taxi was waiting. I frantically threw my gear in my bag, hoped I wasn't forgetting anything, ran downstairs, paid the hotel bill, and rode to Heathrow, fading in and out of consciousness.
We arrived at Heathrow, I bid farewell to my taxi guy, then walked inside to the Lufthansa check-in desk to find hundreds of people already queued up. I hadn't looked in the mirror in what seemed like days, and I kept noticing a smell that I feared was coming from my person. On top of that, my mouth tasted like I'd just cleaned the floor with my tongue, and I sort of wanted a quiet safe haven.
Eventually, I got checked in, took care of business, went through three security checks, and still smelled bad. We boarded our flight on time, but then got to sit on the airplane for an hour before take off. Many passengers suddenly realized that they were going to miss their connections in Frankfurt, so everyone was a bit tense. I was glad that I'd be home soon enough, and particularly glad of the opportunity to shower.
Obviously the plane arrived an hour late, but I collected my bag, walked outside to the taxi stand, and was back at my hotel around 2pm. Oliver, the manager, was there to greet me, and made me a nice espresso while I logged on to check emails. I had a quick chat with my sister, who told me about their busy week in Valencia, then went upstairs for a bit of nap.
I wasn't feeling very hungry, but I was very tired on all fronts. Busy work week, no sleep from the previous night, and then a return to a German speaking environment. I already know that it's going to be very stressful in the coming months, and I find myself needing a bit of time to think about things a bit.
The project I'm working on has as first deadline of January 1, and it's going to be tough to get everything ready. There has not been much time for a lot of carol singing, etc. Christmas is a week away, and I've done no shopping, and don't think I'm going to have much time to shop anyway. I'm not too worried, actually, but would like a bit of Christmas spirit. I was in Colchester when the Weiterstadt team held their Christmas party, and Colchester has their party later this week, which I will miss also. That said, there are little Christmas markets in Germany, and I might run down the street to explore the one in Darmstadt a little later this afternoon. I might even find a few gifts.
This morning, my phone rang at 5.30am once again, but this time it was Chris calling to see if I had any grievances. Festivus was held at Goliad last night! Yet another party I had to miss, but I was glad to at least be included via telephone. My only grievance might have been that it's not always great when someone forgets to check the difference in time zones, but I was so out of it on the phone that I couldn't even think to say anything. I could hardly hear anything except for loads of people who seemed to have had several glasses of punch each all talking at once.
Thanks for the call, McKee. I wish I had been more alert. Maybe I'll call you in a couple of hours and return the cheer.
So it's Sunday afternoon, and I'm sitting in the hotel bar having a Kaffee. The weather is certainly chilly, and I'm starting to get in the Christmas spirit. I will work Monday and Tuesday in Germany, then return to Valencia for a quick visit, one that I'm really looking forward to.
With a little luck, one more shower will remove the last of the smell (did I step in something or what!!!???), and I'll get all my expense reports completed and approved. More on the joys of submitting expense reports in pounds, euros, and dollars later.
For now, I need to work on my feats of strength.
keep the faith
bryan
Atlanta hotel Darmstadt
suggested soundtrack:
Wham! - Last Christmas (ok, just joking)
Take That - Patience (ok, just joking again)
Nirvana - Smells Like Teen Spirit
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
A word about coffee, café, and Kaffee
As an American who consumes enough coffee to deserve his own coffee plantation, I feel the need to comment on the various levels of coffee I've had the pleasure, or disgust, of consuming over recent months.
We all know that I was on the frequent flyer plan at Starbuck's, which had it's perks. As much as I enjoyed playing for the Pogue Mahones (Starbucks football team), I was pretty thrilled to leave a Starbuck's environment and find myself in a land where EVERY café is espresso. Fenomenal.
Cortados and café con leches in Espania. Hmmm. The prices are always reasonable (ie. they don't charge an extra 1.95 for hot milk), and the quality is almost always above average. Sure, it is possible to have the rare bad cortado, but since it doesn't cost all that much, it's not that big of a deal. Besides, as you'll see below, I'm not so pretentious as to be unable to take this in stride.
Take Germany for example, where espresso is consumed a bit less. The drip coffee isn't nearly as good as espresso, but still drinkable. At my office, there are Kaffee pots everywhere, and loads of mugs about. It reminds me a little of Cafe Brazil coffee, if I need to offer a comparison to a Dallas location.
Though I haven't spent too much time I Frankfurt just yet, there do seem to be quite a lot of little cafe houses around, and I'm quite sure that many of them are espresso bars. I'll certainly know more in a few weeks.
Now, after a few days in England, I can comment that the coffee experience in England is simply different. In the workplace, you can spend 20p for a little plastic cup of coffee or tea that is far from delicious. Drinkable, yes, (says the guy who drinks just about anything), but a delightful experience, I think not.
However, it's the experience that makes the reward. Three guys standing around the vending machine in the canteen drinking some hot liquid out of a little plastic cup that looks like what I used to submit a urine sample to my doctor when I was a child. It's a hard visiual to get out of the head, and the warmth of the cup itself doesn't help matters.
Coffee in restaurants and bars really isn't that much better, though you normally get served with a proper cup or mug.
No complaints from me, really, it's just that I notice the differences. Of course, if that's the kind of remark you'd expect from someone who just slipped out at lunch to have a quick pint in the pub, then snarfed a plate of chips and sausage roll on the way back to the office, eh?
there you have it
keep the faith
bryan
We all know that I was on the frequent flyer plan at Starbuck's, which had it's perks. As much as I enjoyed playing for the Pogue Mahones (Starbucks football team), I was pretty thrilled to leave a Starbuck's environment and find myself in a land where EVERY café is espresso. Fenomenal.
Cortados and café con leches in Espania. Hmmm. The prices are always reasonable (ie. they don't charge an extra 1.95 for hot milk), and the quality is almost always above average. Sure, it is possible to have the rare bad cortado, but since it doesn't cost all that much, it's not that big of a deal. Besides, as you'll see below, I'm not so pretentious as to be unable to take this in stride.
Take Germany for example, where espresso is consumed a bit less. The drip coffee isn't nearly as good as espresso, but still drinkable. At my office, there are Kaffee pots everywhere, and loads of mugs about. It reminds me a little of Cafe Brazil coffee, if I need to offer a comparison to a Dallas location.
Though I haven't spent too much time I Frankfurt just yet, there do seem to be quite a lot of little cafe houses around, and I'm quite sure that many of them are espresso bars. I'll certainly know more in a few weeks.
Now, after a few days in England, I can comment that the coffee experience in England is simply different. In the workplace, you can spend 20p for a little plastic cup of coffee or tea that is far from delicious. Drinkable, yes, (says the guy who drinks just about anything), but a delightful experience, I think not.
However, it's the experience that makes the reward. Three guys standing around the vending machine in the canteen drinking some hot liquid out of a little plastic cup that looks like what I used to submit a urine sample to my doctor when I was a child. It's a hard visiual to get out of the head, and the warmth of the cup itself doesn't help matters.
Coffee in restaurants and bars really isn't that much better, though you normally get served with a proper cup or mug.
No complaints from me, really, it's just that I notice the differences. Of course, if that's the kind of remark you'd expect from someone who just slipped out at lunch to have a quick pint in the pub, then snarfed a plate of chips and sausage roll on the way back to the office, eh?
there you have it
keep the faith
bryan
Friday, December 08, 2006
So much for a quiet week at work
OK, so I managed to have two quiet days in the office before the "ka-pow! let's get zany!!" show started. No, it's not just that I've already sat through a two hour staff meeting which was conducted partly in German and party in English (er, 90% German, 10% English), it's that I go to England to another of our repair sites all next week.
No real problem as far as I'm concerned, but I just signed a contract to work in Germany, and suddenly I'm not spending any time in the German office. However, my project involves both the UK and the German site, so I knew I would be involved in some fashion. Didn't realize that I'd be sleeping in some hotel in Colchester the week before Christmas, though...
Speaking of England, let's briefly talk Arsenal football. 0-0 draw with Porto got them through to the final 16 in Champs League, which won't resume until February 2007. Good. That will give me time to get things organized and give the club time to start playing better.
Arsenal are away at Chelsea this Sunday, and play right about the time I'll be riding through the countryside on the train from Liverpool Street Station. Just my luck that I didn't think to arrange my flight a bit better so as to see the match, but oh well.
Now, I don't want to start passing commentary on Germany, the people or the culture, but a few things have struck me in the five days that I've been here.
Taxi's are more expensive here than in Spain. Hopefully I'll solve this problem soon by organizing my own transportation. Oh wait, I'm going to be out of town the next couple of weeks...
Doner kebaps are spicier in Alemania. Incredible. Doner Kebaps are almost the only late night food available in Spain, and in recent weeks, I had to consume my fair share. Not the most healthy thing for you, but I'd argue that they're certainly more healthy than Taco Hell or even IHoP, particularly my type of IHoP excursion.
While kepab places in Spain are usually tasty, they're also usually run by non-Spanish. The place in Meliana was predominately Rumanian (??), but most I've seen are Turkish or Indian. In my experience in Spain, all of the kepab houses spoke Spanish and English.
Imagine my surprise in Darmstadt (where everyone seems to speak quite a bit of English), then, when I encountered a kepab house where they didn't speak English (and certainly not Spanish). I struggled to get the right thing ordered (probably didn't help that I kept using Spanish words), but the result was excellent. Here, they put a bit of super spicy crushed pepper on everything, and I now know where I can satisfy my hot fix for comida picante.
I'm suffering from a bit of a cold at moment, but certainly felt better after chowing through a couple of spicy kebaps.
The language barrier will be a problem for me, mainly because I feel like such a dolt for knowing so little German. Almost everyone speaks a fair amount of English, which is impressive. There are small, humorous mistakes made from time to time. My office companion has a habit of using "BE" any time he needs to use a conjugation of the verb "to be". Thus, I might hear, "This be where you can drink coffee."
In my hotel, I had to request laundry service, and the cute St. Pauli girl working at the front desk said, "Sure, no problem. Where is your luggage?" This question confused me enough that I started immediately babbling in Spanish, English, and a few German words I created, which ultimately confused the matter enough that the employee had to get a colleague to help. At least I'm getting my clothes clean.
This evening, I'm headed into Frankfurt to check out the sights, and hopefully get an idea as to where I might find a decent apartment (within budget).
Hopefully a few pils will help my cold, and I can always have another kepab.
Let's go Arsenal! We need a lot of fortunate luck to win at Chelsea Sunday, but I believe. It's called keeping the faith.
Tschüs!
Bryan
soundtrack:
Robbie Williams live in Leeds. (don't know if this is available on CD or not, but I saw the vid last night on German music channel)
Juli - Dieses Leben (ok, I don't know much about German rock music, but the lead singer of this rock band looks really cute in a red and black striped sweater. And that is certainly reason enough to buy an album...)
No real problem as far as I'm concerned, but I just signed a contract to work in Germany, and suddenly I'm not spending any time in the German office. However, my project involves both the UK and the German site, so I knew I would be involved in some fashion. Didn't realize that I'd be sleeping in some hotel in Colchester the week before Christmas, though...
Speaking of England, let's briefly talk Arsenal football. 0-0 draw with Porto got them through to the final 16 in Champs League, which won't resume until February 2007. Good. That will give me time to get things organized and give the club time to start playing better.
Arsenal are away at Chelsea this Sunday, and play right about the time I'll be riding through the countryside on the train from Liverpool Street Station. Just my luck that I didn't think to arrange my flight a bit better so as to see the match, but oh well.
Now, I don't want to start passing commentary on Germany, the people or the culture, but a few things have struck me in the five days that I've been here.
Taxi's are more expensive here than in Spain. Hopefully I'll solve this problem soon by organizing my own transportation. Oh wait, I'm going to be out of town the next couple of weeks...
Doner kebaps are spicier in Alemania. Incredible. Doner Kebaps are almost the only late night food available in Spain, and in recent weeks, I had to consume my fair share. Not the most healthy thing for you, but I'd argue that they're certainly more healthy than Taco Hell or even IHoP, particularly my type of IHoP excursion.
While kepab places in Spain are usually tasty, they're also usually run by non-Spanish. The place in Meliana was predominately Rumanian (??), but most I've seen are Turkish or Indian. In my experience in Spain, all of the kepab houses spoke Spanish and English.
Imagine my surprise in Darmstadt (where everyone seems to speak quite a bit of English), then, when I encountered a kepab house where they didn't speak English (and certainly not Spanish). I struggled to get the right thing ordered (probably didn't help that I kept using Spanish words), but the result was excellent. Here, they put a bit of super spicy crushed pepper on everything, and I now know where I can satisfy my hot fix for comida picante.
I'm suffering from a bit of a cold at moment, but certainly felt better after chowing through a couple of spicy kebaps.
The language barrier will be a problem for me, mainly because I feel like such a dolt for knowing so little German. Almost everyone speaks a fair amount of English, which is impressive. There are small, humorous mistakes made from time to time. My office companion has a habit of using "BE" any time he needs to use a conjugation of the verb "to be". Thus, I might hear, "This be where you can drink coffee."
In my hotel, I had to request laundry service, and the cute St. Pauli girl working at the front desk said, "Sure, no problem. Where is your luggage?" This question confused me enough that I started immediately babbling in Spanish, English, and a few German words I created, which ultimately confused the matter enough that the employee had to get a colleague to help. At least I'm getting my clothes clean.
This evening, I'm headed into Frankfurt to check out the sights, and hopefully get an idea as to where I might find a decent apartment (within budget).
Hopefully a few pils will help my cold, and I can always have another kepab.
Let's go Arsenal! We need a lot of fortunate luck to win at Chelsea Sunday, but I believe. It's called keeping the faith.
Tschüs!
Bryan
soundtrack:
Robbie Williams live in Leeds. (don't know if this is available on CD or not, but I saw the vid last night on German music channel)
Juli - Dieses Leben (ok, I don't know much about German rock music, but the lead singer of this rock band looks really cute in a red and black striped sweater. And that is certainly reason enough to buy an album...)
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Not quite normal service resumed
I've been fortunate enough to catch several Arsenal matches in recent weeks, though it's been a bit unnerving as two of those matches were losses. There's almost nothing worse than getting fired up to watch your team play, then see them crash out in the most ridiculous ways. I mean come on, if you take a zillion shots in a match, hit the woodwork about 14 times, how can you possibly lose 1-0 off of a corner kick?
Ah well, welcome to Arsenal football.
I watched the Arsenal-Tottenham match Saturday afternoon at Finnegan's along with two new found English Arsenal fans. The three of us chucked it up over pints for the duration of the game, and then for the rest of the afternoon, which turned into quite the stretch. Fortunately, Arsenal won convincingly 3-0, which made me feel a whole lot better.
While the afternoon was fun, I couldn't help thinking of the same fixture earlier in the year that Chris and I went to. I certainly would have preferred to be at emirates stadium with him saying fun things to the Tottenham fans. Same old Tottenham, always cheating. (At this point, I'll skip over the dubious penalty that was awarded Arsenal in the first half)
It was nice spending my final afternoon in Valencia in Finnegans watching a bit of football. It's not that I won't be back there soon, but when I return, I won't actually be a resident. Trying to gear up for the Sunday move to Germany was not all that easy.
But, it's now a done deal. I'm in Weiterstadt, sitting at my desk, typing on my laptop, suffering from a cold.
Welcome to Germany.
Updates about the move, the new culture, and how pretty the girls are will come later. Right now, I've got to get myself settled into an apartment, decipher the transportation schedules, and get acquainted with the German keyboard. This keyboard thing is kind of interesting, because it's very very different from both the English and the Spanish keyboard. Since I've been a typist for many years, I rarely pay attention to the keys, save for my experiences in Spain toggling between the different layouts. However, unlike the German keyboard, the Spanish keyboard merely has a few extra symbols and accents.
Welcome to Germany.
The German keyboard actually moves the alphabet around, and while this wouldn't necessarily be that big of a deal, the Y character is where the Z character is in German keyboards. Those of you that remember the spelling of my name probably better understand my predicament.
At any rate, the chapter is starting, and I've already been to my first biergarten to watch a champs league match, ironically, Barcelona and Werder Bremen.
It's a good way to begin the experience.
prost
brZan
One last thing. C'mon Arsenal. Beat Porto tonight.
Ah well, welcome to Arsenal football.
I watched the Arsenal-Tottenham match Saturday afternoon at Finnegan's along with two new found English Arsenal fans. The three of us chucked it up over pints for the duration of the game, and then for the rest of the afternoon, which turned into quite the stretch. Fortunately, Arsenal won convincingly 3-0, which made me feel a whole lot better.
While the afternoon was fun, I couldn't help thinking of the same fixture earlier in the year that Chris and I went to. I certainly would have preferred to be at emirates stadium with him saying fun things to the Tottenham fans. Same old Tottenham, always cheating. (At this point, I'll skip over the dubious penalty that was awarded Arsenal in the first half)
It was nice spending my final afternoon in Valencia in Finnegans watching a bit of football. It's not that I won't be back there soon, but when I return, I won't actually be a resident. Trying to gear up for the Sunday move to Germany was not all that easy.
But, it's now a done deal. I'm in Weiterstadt, sitting at my desk, typing on my laptop, suffering from a cold.
Welcome to Germany.
Updates about the move, the new culture, and how pretty the girls are will come later. Right now, I've got to get myself settled into an apartment, decipher the transportation schedules, and get acquainted with the German keyboard. This keyboard thing is kind of interesting, because it's very very different from both the English and the Spanish keyboard. Since I've been a typist for many years, I rarely pay attention to the keys, save for my experiences in Spain toggling between the different layouts. However, unlike the German keyboard, the Spanish keyboard merely has a few extra symbols and accents.
Welcome to Germany.
The German keyboard actually moves the alphabet around, and while this wouldn't necessarily be that big of a deal, the Y character is where the Z character is in German keyboards. Those of you that remember the spelling of my name probably better understand my predicament.
At any rate, the chapter is starting, and I've already been to my first biergarten to watch a champs league match, ironically, Barcelona and Werder Bremen.
It's a good way to begin the experience.
prost
brZan
One last thing. C'mon Arsenal. Beat Porto tonight.
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