Galway to Omagh to Amsterdam

Well, we have been a bit busy with traveling so the blog has lagged a bit but here goes...we are in Amsterdam but that is getting ahead of the story...after the Owen Wilson siting we walked back to our small town against 50mph winds...needless to say the bad hair day took on new meaning but we found our way back and to our new favorite pub which this time Hoyt really got to make friends with some locals including one that everyone called Johnny the Leg due to his bummed leg...we sat with a group of Irish men and listened to them tell stories and jokes for a couple of hours until our stomachs were sore from laughing so hard...

We woke up early the next morning and headed for the bus to Northern Ireland and to discover from where the great Fergus Sloan started his adventure to the new world...Northern Ireland definetly feels a bit cooler and more reserved than the republic...the folk are not as jolly although still quite nice but not in that 'I don't know ya but I want to know ya' kinda way...the land is quite different - rolling hills, lots of green, lots of small farms and all the people we met spoke much more about the land and how things are changing temperature wise...we stayed at a hostel that was also a sustainable farm. The Irish couple who owned the farm were heavily into the movement and into education about sustainable farming which turns out is very universal and not just something done in Northern California. The house was out in the country and the lovely part was the walking along the windy roads trying to pretend the smell of cow dung was actually honeysuckle...

The next day we woke up early and headed for the American Folk Park which upon our arrival we were hesitant due to the fact that we took the average age of people there down by 10 years...but once we got going we were pleasantly suprised..the historical land is a full recreation of the story of the irish and scott-irish immigration and life experience. Houses from the early 18th century peasant home to the tenant house to the boat that immigrants came over to America on (3 months on the bottom of a boat to get over)...there were people in the homes and shops along the way that were like history teachers and will tell you about how ads were printed or what herbs were used for different medicinal purposes...it was really informative. We found out that Hoyt's family most likely left due to religious persecution rather than say the potato famine because they left before 1760 and most likely they were scot-irish...

Anyway, that night we got some groceries, made some irish stew and ended up visiting with a family from Northern Michigan who you wou wouldn't beleive - were Sloan's and also looking for Sloan history - serendipity I tell ya.

We hopped on a 6am bus to Dublin, caught our flight to Amsterdam and made it to our hotel at around 5pm...we picked correctly because we are staying in what seems like a quiet, family area of Amsterdam...not many tourists and lots of people on bikes.

Everyone bikes everywhere here. We have seen 3 people on one bike going to and fro. Interestingly enough none of the bikes look new all are rusty and very well used. We figure that if a bike is something you use everday all year then you must just use it until you need a new one...instead of our way of thinking of a bike which is riding on a nice day around town for excerise...so, Amsterdam is a suprise in the fact that it is not all pot smoking, hipsters but is actually probably the most beautiful, clean city we have visited and everyone seems to be content (they did get the happiest people award this past year). We enjoyed one of their main sites yesterday, the Van Gogh Museum, which was both inspiring and heart wrenching...amazing to see how someone could create something so bright and full of movement and life and then be so depressed and broken...We ended the day with the final game of the Euro cup - congrats Spain for winning after 44 years of no win.

Dublin to Inishmor to Galway and the Owen Wilson siting...

We wrapped up in Dublin and hopped on a bus to Galway...we arrived and are staying in a town about 2km from Galway called Salthill at Noreen and Ambrose Cosgrove's Bed & Breakfast...a charming Irish couple that Hoyt has managed to chat with every free second he gets...Hoyt has been all smiles since we landed and tries to chat up everyone he can...of course, they are Irish and so for them that is a welcomed action...they are for sure always up for a chat...they certainly are the most friendly folk I have ever met.

This morning we were walking on the street and looking at our map and a gentlemen stopped to ask if we 'were getting on ok' and there was a moment where I thought oh no, he will ask for a change but that is not the case in all but in actuality he genuinely was concerned about our well being...amazing.

Anyway, we pulled into our beach town and walked along the promenade which is right on the coast and then settled into one of the oldest most unique pubs in Ireland. The pub has been given the James Joyce award which is the highest honor for a pub in Ireland. So, what makes this one so unique was by far the 150 lamps strewn around, the 200 kettles tucked away into every nook and cranning. The placed looked as if one of the couple had a serious pack-rat problem and the other person in the couple said "let's open a pub and you can put every treasure you find into it." It is perfect.

The next day we woke up early for our adventure on the Aran isalnds which are a chain of islands off the western coast of Ireland. We caught the ferry over after a delicious Irish breakfast prepared by the ever-lovely Noreen. We then hired a bike and set forth although it was about 40 degrees with about 50mph winds hurling through. We are so happy we did. The island is everything you see in the movies. Green pastures marked with stone walls, people speaking in gaelic over large pints and cliffs where you cannot even step to the edge due to fear of being blown off and swept away by the crashing waves 200 ft below. We biked for about 5 hours all around the island, stopping everyonce in a while when the wind would get the best of us but thankfully we had bought some aran sweaters so we stayed toasty.

The day concluded with some fish and chips where the mackral was caught fresh that morning and listening to the local fisherman tell jokes and stories of the day or of their glory days...we sadly got on the ferry at 7:30pm and got back to town, had one more pint where the bartendress did one of those shamrocks on the top and hoyt got to of course chat it up with more folk...a perfect day!

Today, we were so overwhelmed by the grandeur of the day that we slept in, watched some trashy irish version of Jerry Springer and headed to Galway to wander the streets...while wondering, Hoyt all of the sudden stopped dead in his tracks and said "oh my gosh, that is owen wilson." He was walking next to us. Seriously, something weird always happens to me when I travel and it is this weird sentiment of the randomness of the world, mixed with the understanding of how small I am in the grand scheme of things. I realize now that in my own world, at home, I feel like that is the world and the rest is like a story book. Then, as always, some bizarre twist of fate happens and the world seems so small. Not a very good explanation but the best I can do right now...

Anyway, the fact that at least 1 person a week tells Hoyt "you know you look like Owen Wilson" that it was to the say the least a surreal experience to have him then walking next to him...of course, then I realize that the randomness makes sense if we think that at some level there must be a bizarre connection between the two...we were unfortunately too star struck to figure out how to approach him and so we followed him around for a bit and got a decent photo of him from the distance...maybe he will be at O'connor's tonight...who knows?

Venice to Dublin

I am not going to lie - there is something to be said about being in a place where everyone speaks your language - there is definetly something a little more relaxing about Ireland and I know it is not totally due to the language difference but that is a nice perk.

Dublin reminds me a bit of San Francisco...the people are friendly, the weather is cold but something is cozy about it at the same time. Although the similarites are there, there is one major difference - the amount of time spent in pubs. I mean, I had heard that visiting Ireland was half about visiting the pubs and meeting the people but part of me couldn't imagine how true this really is. It has, I guess stereotypically so, been raining and cold pretty much the hold time here so far so we stopped into a pub for a tea (for me) and a pint (for Hoyt) on Saturday at about 1 pm and it was amazing - the place was packed and I mean wall to wall and this is beside the fact that there is a pub on every corner...Needless to say, Hoyt and I are loving it.

Beside pub hopping, we have also visited a few writer musuems and exhibits which has been one of my favorite parts of the trips...I love hearing about great writers and their stories, how they came to be, what their inspirations were and their eccentricities...I didn't realize that Bram Stoker was from Ireland for instance...we visited the Guiness storehouse and have really enjoyed the fish and chips, stuffed pies and stews...food is always one of the best memories...on top of it all, my sister was kind enough to use her points to score us rooms in a westin here and we are trying to convince ourselves after 3 days of 1000 threadcount sheets and fluffy robes that the little hotels off the beaten path are much more cozy but somehow it is like the coke bottle and gods must be crazy and once the bottle drops, it is hard to experience things in the same light...we are off tomorrow to the coast and to galway where our biking adventure begins...yeah!!!

Siena to Venice

We have really enjoyed Italy and not simply because of the spaghetti and gelatti...the Euro 2008 games have helped as well. We have most definetly become addicts although I think this has just reinforced the quieted drive for the sport which he tucked away when he picked up the paintbrush...it is amazing to see the universal gusto for a game that is very hush, hush in the states.

Anyway, we left our favorite town of Siena and spent the following day waiting in line to see the great works of the Florentine artists in the Uffizi. One thing that amazes me is that I can revisit places that were once my favorite and not that they are not still great but for some reason the magic of the experience for whatever reason is contained in the past. I believe the first time one sees La Primavera is the lasting moment although it was amazing this time, it did not necessarily produce the same reaction. We hurried on up the road to Treviso which is a somewhat large town but not touristy but actually a real town. It would be like coming to the states and visiting Charlotte, North Carolina. Cool city but nothing to write home about and the real issue is that it closes down at 9pm unlike all the other big cities. So, when we discovered that the reservations we printed out did not have an address or a phone number and nothing was opened we spent an hour and a half trying to communicate broken italian to the gelatto ladies about the small, obscure bed and breakfast which no suprise they had not heard of.

In the end, we called my sister in New York and had her look up on line where the hotel was located and 15 minutes later we realized that our map did not even have the area of town on it, so we grabbed a cab and found our B&B in this little neighborhood in what seems to be suburbia Italy. Hilarious!

The next day thought we joined the flow of tourists in Venice and looked at the gondolas pass by and Hoyt noticed that there were many empty. I pointed out that that is because they charge $75/hour and so they pretty much maybe do 2 rides a day to the unsuspecting tourist and make their living and hang out and people watch the rest of the day. Ahhh bschool making me a cynic...
We did make it over to Murano which is where all the Venetian glass is made which was really facinating to watch but then, of course, the stuff we really liked was the stuff that was unique and artistic which is more a piece of art than just a vase...we settled for the wine stopper and many a photos...

Today, we got out of the cities and headed for the alps on our last eurail ticket before we leave for Dublin tomorrow...turns out that all tourist offices are closed from 12:30 - 3:30pm so when we got to the mountain town at 12:45pm for our hike we had no way of knowing where to go...as inventive souls we did what any good mountaineer would do - we headed for the mountains. We found a trail which turned out to be more of a rock climbing trek and laughed a lot at the Lauren and Hoytness of the situation...we found our way back to town and at the suggestion of our b&b owner, we are now eating at the local internet cafe/bar/restaurant/big screen tv place to watch the euro game...the spaghetti was yummy though...

Genoa to Rigamorre to Siena

So we have officially begun the traveling part of our trip...by that I mean, dodgy hotels, running with big backpacks to catch a train that should have left 10 minutes ago and finally being relaxed enough to start spending a couple hours reading although there are, of course, a million amazing things to see...I mean isn't understanding 'who is john galt' as important as seeing a 15th century fresco?

We are knee deep into Italy now and although we love France there is something about Italy that brings with it more of a gravitational pull...maybe it is the gelato, i don't know. We began our Italian adventure after a poor decision by me for us to drive across France so we could have one more night of luxury at Lizzie and Mike's but that proved to be a lesson in why Europeans use public transport. The answer is not because it is necessarily a more pleasant experience although that could be argued but this is certainly a monetary decision. To drive 7 hours in a diesel car with gas mileage to compete with any Prius cost us around 150 euro due to gas prices (at 1.60 euro per liter = $6.40 a gallon) but this was not a suprise but what was a suprise were the tolls...about every 50 miles you must pay around 10 euro to just use the road (they are nice roads mind you). Although I was highly disturbed by the pull on my purse, this did seem to be reasonable if the goal was to have people use public transport. We still have not even begun to feel the crunch in the US, the price elasticity has not even begun to become taunt.

Anyway, we were headed for cinque terre, an area on the Italian coast, where 5 villages are linked via a rugged trail which many people hike, for our own hiking excursion but due to our late arrival we decided to stay in seedy Genoa because we thought we could find a place more easily (since this was my one attempt for the entire 7 weeks of being relaxed enough to not secure accomodations). Turns out we could get a room for cheap and I had flashbacks of Moldova for a second as we entered the dingy accomodations but then I remembered we were actually backpacking and I realized that I might really be 10 years older than when I last did this and a little more pampered.

We got up early the next morning and headed for cinque terre and as we arrived the thunderstorms rolled in and I felt like the children in cat and the hat. I was very sullen and had a pathetic look on my face as we sat in a cafe and sipped tea. Hoyt said 'let's go anyway' and so we started up the terrain with wet pants, heavy raincoats and thoughts repeating 'this was a choice remember.' 15 minutes later the sun burst through the clouds and the rest of the day was crystal clear and even more perfect because the rains had driven away the clouds and the rain had made everything glisten. I remembered why I always tell myself that the winter serves a very important purpose which is to prepare us to find joy in the spring...imagine if we had peonies all year round, we would miss that first moment when they bloom.

We finished the day in the last town of Riamagorre in a yummy restaurant with a bottle of chianti served with pasta and fresh mussels from the harbor below. Yummmm.

The next day we headed for Siena and for our most perfect hotel where the owner must have friends of friends of Lizzie and Mike because they have created a little piece of heaven in tuscany. The patio looks over the burnt red walled city and in the distance we can see the beginning of the tuscan hills...we have spent today totally relaxing by walking through all the small allies, in and out of shops, stopping to watch the little ones excitement as they discover the fresh gelato of the day and in general enjoying eachother...it is rough but someone must do it...

Coutures to Bergerac and Back

We awoke early (in vacationer speak) around 7:30am in order to get to Bergerac in time to make it to the market but lollygagged with some nutella and bread and thus did not make it out of the house until 10 am so we rolled into the perfectly quaint, cobblestoned street Bordeaux town of Bergerac around 12pm and found our way to the market which, of course, closed at 1pm...we have officially resolved to start making the afternoons our relaxing time...we did make it just in time to the maison des vins which is a place where one can stop and taste various wines of the region and then choose a winery to go to...

The owner of the vineyard was there and he was delightfully odd with a bit of a crazy eye and very broken english but we all understood you like? you want more? we then took a drive to a chateau and had another eccentric wine lady tell us about all the wines of the region and how her chateau had recently changed their logo to an image of cyrano de bergerac so those of us not as knowledgable might show a preference...we headed for another picnic but this time in the vineyard where we found out that it was frog mating season so we layed down, listened to the frogs do their thing and watched the daily thunderstorm roll in...

Couture and the french countryside...

Although we LOVED Paris, the french countryside is a little more our style...we drove around and stopped in the little town of Perigeoux...much like a Cleveland, TN but french so filled with randomn men at the cafe debating who would win the Euro 2008 cup, the boulangerie lightning up the air with the scent of a fresh baked baguette and everywhere are little cars squeezing into spaces that not even the smallest car in the US could get into...no big boxes, no chains...just that freshness that is only found in by far the yuppiest places in the US...we pay big bucks to have what the french consider standard....

We also came back to Lizzie and Mike's and roasted a chicken in butter; fresh thyme, prosuciotto, potatoes, onions and mushrooms...yummy, which seems to be the word to define france...

Paris to Coutres

So, after versailles (Which you see Laren struggling to get in; unfortunately we had to much fun on our picnic in the gardens that we ended up missing the tour) we decided to bit a bit more practical so we spent the next day at the louvre which I think Hoyt could have stayed at for more than 5 hours but my capacity hit a bit earlier...then we had the most lovely meal with my friend Libby and her hubby and new baby in their townhome in boulounge...they served it up with a yummy and red onion and chorizo tart then a pasta served with grilled vegetables and then a delicisioso peach tarte, cheese plate and chocolate...althought the food was perfect I believe that playing with Nathan and getting reaquainted with Libby was the best part...the next day we did very little beause we had run ourselved into the ground but we did make it to a park and down the champs elysees and to the arc...that was yesterday but today...

We hopped on the train and made our way to the South of France to Jen's friend Lizzie's place in Coutres, France (which might find on mapquest but probably not). This place is the most beautiful place you can imagine...if you have seen the movie good year with russel crowe blended with the secret garden...imagine that but 50 times better...a little chateau in the wine country, where it smells like a fire was burned a few days before, the gardens are just so overgrown that you feel like someone cares but not too much that they don't enjoy it...and just now a storm is blowing in and the windows are lighting up...and of course you need a blanket but not a big wool one but a light one as long as someone is there to keep you cozy...this is the life for sure

Houston to Paris

Well, we qre going to have to skip the last week and a half...so we found a place in houston at the sabine street lofts which are very urban with a skate park across the street for hoyt to continue reliving his youth and then we made our way to NY where we had sushi with allison before boarding the airplane to paris...our first couple of days have already been quite amusing especially setting off the hotels fire alarm...

Yes, it turns out that even with an adapter a straightner is a little too much energy...damn enviros...hoyt was downstairs at the time and came back up to a smokey room and two fireman who knew very little english...I reptively said 'je na sais pas' and they smiled and shrugged as well...we also saw the catacombs, eiffel tower, erotica museum, dali museum, strolled through the markets, gathered lots of yummy food for a picnic and have been enjoying ourselves thouroughy. Today, we slept until 11 and then made our way to versailles where the gardens were too tempting so we had a picnic and ended up missing the last tour of the inside of versailles b!c it turns out that it is a long way around those ponds and although we ran most of it we still missed it - oh well...we always have the movies...VA KAY SLOAN SLOAN is needless to say superb so far so keep tuned in for more...big hugs.

Salado to Houston

If you ever are thinking of Hoyt and I then come here and find out where we are today...we will try to provide some fun pics and hilarious antecdotes along our adventure...

It all started in Salado...for our quaint Texan wedding...about 100 of our friends and family gathered in little Salado where two weeks before the town was put on the map by a certain daughter of the President but as Emily said it just prepared the town for the real celebrities...Hoyt and I...

We had spent the previous week moving to Houston with Hoyt being the super trooper and actually driving to Houston TWICE within three days...he arrived on Wednesday at 3pm just in time to meet me at the county clerk's office to get our marriage license...in Texas you need to get the license 72 hours before the wedding so we made it by 3 hours... The next few days were by far the most fun days of our lives. It started with Mom and Allison arriving and the three of us running errands until we couldn't run anymore...literally because we were getting our mani/pedi :)

Anyway, on Thursday the crowds arrived for the Thursday night feast (see photos) at Jaime's Mexican Village which was Hoyt's hangout all through college and then we moved the party next door to Club de Villa and then to see a Rocakabilly band at the continental club called the Mother Truckers. On the way home from Austin we jammed out to Jane's Moldovan best CD...needless to say the party had only just begun...

Friday started with a power walk with Richard, Cindy, Em, Katherine, and Jen recovering quite well from the night before - we learned about Jesse James' visit to the Salado Inn and Jenna's bridal brunch...it was superb! Then, I was off to see Brother Bobby (the pastor for the service) in his clockshop and Hoyt and Chris went to get the CHAIRS in Austin...

Chair sidenote...I decided that white was too informal for the wedding reception so we rented 115 chairs from this place in Austin and Chris (bestman) and Hoyt took responsibility for the chairs all weekend...see wedding pictures to see how nice the wood looked - thanks Chris and Hoyt! After lots of running around, I retreated for a nap while the wedding team (Mary Helen, Anne aka Hoyt's Mom, Allison and my Mom) went to town preparing for the rehearsal dinner and wedding which as you can see from these shots was absoultely perfect...thank you Mary Helen and Anne!
The rehersal dinner was a casual barbecue with barbecue, beans, different Texan beers, American wine (Pinot Gris from Oregon and Zinfandel from Northern California) with blackberry cobbler to wash it down with...yum! Many great toasts were given including a teaful one by me (and I told everyone not to cry) and a sweet one by Mom about not getting to meet Hoyt during her trip to Moldova and a funny one about the credit card getting stuck in the machine and Hoyt making sure that the tweezers used to get the card out would be properly sanitized afterward, one by Adam about the little loin cloth at the Budapest bath house...if you missed that one too bad - what happens at the wedding, stays at the wedding...