Ok first of all apologies for the lack of posting...its hard...really hard sometimes to come up with witty, funny things to say...not to say that we live boring lives...on the contrary, perhaps too many things are happening that we are having little to no time to jot them down...So here is a little story that took place a few days ago...Its being written about because it fits our initial 'impromptu' theme and is still very fresh in my mind...
Planning is technically a major part of both mine and T's everyday lives since we are teachers. And though I try and rebel against this as much as possible, I have come to realize that planning ahead does make teaching a whole lot easier and more effective. Now, since I have started to accept this in my work life, I feel as though I have completely neglected it in my everyday life....perhaps on purpose, as I am a big supporter of spontaneous adventures, or simply because planning takes time and makes things nauseatingly organized...Either way, a perfect example of plan-less travel occurred on Saturday:
Thursday afternoon as I am enjoying my day off I get a thought process flowing through that goes something like this...'Monday is a bank holiday...Cousin works at a bank...I wonder if he gets the day off, or is it just a big tease of a name for all bankers...he for sure doesn't get it off, he never gets time off...I'll call him...oh its 2pm...he is probably in a meeting...but if I was in a meeting I would have my phone on silent as I am sure he does so it will just go to voice-mail...decided...calling...ring ring...
a very quite "Hello?"...
"Hey can you talk?"
this has been a typical way of responding by Cousin lately...I'm going to call him out on it as soon as I get a good opportunity:
"Ya ya ya give me a sec....Hey whats up?"
"Do you get the day off on Monday, and if you do do you wanna go somewhere this weekend?"
"Ya ya ya...I get the day off Cousin...its a BANK holiday"... (OK fine it makes perfect sense that he would get the day off but whatever...thought I'd make sure...)
Either way the conversation went something along the lines of well where do you want to go...I don't know...anywhere...but the weather will be crap...oh who cares it will be crap here as well...ok fine where does T want to go? Not sure, I haven't asked him if he wants to go anywhere he is in the shower... Bla bla bla...End of conversation decided nothing, a few ideas were thrown around but I hung up not really convinced that Cousin would be down for a random vaca as he seemed mega concerned about the weather being crap...which it is/was and has been for the past month...argh...
So Friday night a little more random discussion occurred about the possibility of going somewhere but was left with...we will discuss it in the morning...
Saturday morning...T and I wake up at roughly 8:30... not sure why, but it happened...I try and call Cousin...voice-mail...This happens over and over for a good 2.5 hours...Not cool Cousin...
While still in bed T and I start semi planning a possible weekend away...B&Bs are booked up, hotels are not in our price range and also seemingly booked up...so far not a great start...At about 10:30 we decide that we will just get ready and head over to Cousins, pick him up and go to the train station together headed to Brighton. (The idea of Brighton arose when our wonderful friends/neighbors suggested it as they had made reasonable plans at least a month in advance to have a wonderful long weekend away)...
At roughly 11:00 we make it down to central London, ring Cousins bell...He is stunned/confused at our unexpected arrival...We quickly get him and his not so ready at all to go friend (still in bed and wildly hungover) to get dressed and out the door.
By 1 we are on the train...by 2 we are sitting on the beach looking for rocks with holes through them...Not sure about you but in my family we always search for these natural treasures...Normally, or from previous treasure hunting excursions we were lucky to find one or two...The rocky Brighton beach however proved to be crawling with 'Chicken Gods' as we call them, so now I have a HUGE collection...zing!
By 3 we have decided to go see the Brighton palace...with a purse already super heavy and now filled with magical rocks we head down the boardwalk with the ocean on one side and a quaint beach town on the other.
We arrive at the palace...a wildly out of place Indian looking structure, surrounded by gardens, stands before us. We take it in, all with our heads kind of leaning to one side trying to grasp the meaning behind this weird place and move on. Our friends, M and S are waiting for us at the museum, which is located in the palace grounds...And as much as the palace totally did not fit into Brighton at all, at least it had its museum friend which was pretty much its twin sister...Full of totally random exhibitions of pretty much anything you can think of and find all shoved into one place...Entertaining? yes...Interesting? perhaps...Strange? very much so...
After completing our cultural program as we like to say we headed down the lanes to find some food for our hungover, hungry friends...Linner (lunch+dinner) was served at a wonderful tapas restaurant (if I had planned on writing this then I would have looked up the name and added it to the post but...)
By 7 pm we were standing outside a pub while the boys caught the last few minutes of the football match...once again if I planned this I would tell you who was playing and why it was so intriguing for them but...
Ok so this is where the lack of planning and possibly the learning experience for our next trip kicks in...Up until this point we had had a great day, we explored, we ate, we walked along the beach...etc...T and I however kind of wanted to stay in Brighton for the night and even packed a few overnight things with us juuussttt incasesss...
So we part ways with Cousin and still very much hungover friend and decide to meet up with M and S for some drinks while we search on Ts ever so handy telephone/mini computer for a place to sleep for the night.
By 10pm we are walking along the beach again while M and S are at dinner, in search for a random place to take us in...Our search ends quickly as we find (thankfully) that the hostel filled with drunk girls either dressed as cows or milk maids is completely full...
By 11 we are on the train headed home...I really wanted to stay, and was even super whiny about it...poor T....but this just goes to show me that perhaps planning, even just a little before going somewhere is probably a good idea...
All in all, Brighton is a beautiful/ slightly tacky little town that will be revisited with a little more planning as soon as the weather gets better...
That is it for now...Hopefully T will post part 2 of his Ukraine adventures soon...
V.
Showing posts with label last minute. Show all posts
Showing posts with label last minute. Show all posts
Monday, May 7, 2012
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Ukraine Part 1....Kiev
We landed at Kiev's Boryspil International Airport at roughly 2:30 am local time, welcomed by swells of pouring rain. After having been met at the airport, we quickly walked to the car, and proceeded to change certain pieces of our wardrobe which were more club appropriate. It was V's cousin's birthday weekend and we were therefore expected/very willing to party all weekend long. Sitting in the car on the way to the club, I felt like a six year old for the first time in a while. I knew what sounds Cyrillic letters made, but trying to read words by piecing sounds together proved to be very difficult while speeding by in a car.
Kokos was the name of the fine establishment we were quickly escorted to, for a fine night of celebration (at least that's what we imagined was in store for us). What we got instead was a tacky looking, rather empty club, that left a lot to be desired (shots that just so happened to be lit on fire seemed to be the theme of the night). Nonetheless we had a good time partying it up until 6 am, going to a friends' place after having left the club (the majority of clubs tend to close around 6 am, in fact there is no official closing time. Clubs will stay open as long as there are paying customers present). One of the most surprising occurrences of that night though was the fact that after a number of drinks, most of the people we were with could spew out comprehensible english phrases (in between bouts of yelling this is Ukraine, a la "this is Sparta", quickly followed by the downing of a whiskey or vodka shot). I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep up if the endless drinking of shots was the name of the game being played that night so instead I took the mixed drink route (mixing whiskey with coke), which based on the Ukrainian-styled peer pressure, led me to believe that "real" men didn't mix their drinks. In the end, my fellow drinkers were okay with the fact that I had mixed my shot (some of them did as well) and the "peer pressure" was simply a facade to try and get me, for the lack of a better term wasted. Most conversation that night revolved around the discussion of world football events, including (but not limited to); the upcoming Euro taking place in Poland and Ukraine, Portuguese football, the Europa League match between Metalist Kharkov and Sporting Lisbon, Chelsea Football Club, and Cristiano Ronaldo.
Waking up around 10 am the next morning, we had little time to get ourselves ready as we were to set up for another party taking place that day. We arrived at V's Uncle's new house, sitting on the banks of a fast moving tributary of the Dnieper River, ready to help anywhere we could. There was meat to be marinated, drinks to be poured, and floors to be cleaned. Everything that needed tending to, got done well before any of the guests arrived. We were to have a Georgian themed party, and no expense was spared. A Georgian band was brought in, filling the house with the sweet sounds trumpets, small guitar-like instruments similar to Greek bouzoukis, and an accordion. Delicacies were served, which as you might have guessed were native to Georgia, including an incredibly tasty Georgian red wine, Georgian salads, dips, and really anything else Georgian, except for the sushi which was served. I'm pretty sure sushi isn't a staple of Georgian cuisine, despite it being amazingly tasty and my eating 8 pieces of it. By the end of the night, some had had a couple too many drinks to be able to drive legally (although legality is a very gray area in Ukraine), and I was called upon to drive the monster that was the family car, the Toyota Sequoia. To say I was a little nervous would have been a very fair statement. I had only been in the country for roughly 19 hours at that point, and from what I had seen on the streets, it seemed that some regarded traffic laws as mere suggestions. As interim captain of the SS Sequoia, I couldn't show any fear though, as I comfortably took my position in the driver's seat. My fears were laid to rest when a) there wasn't too much traffic (it was 10 pm on a Sunday night) and b) those who did share the road with the monster were seemingly respectful of traffic laws. It took roughly 25 minutes to drive to central Kiev, and not once did I feel uncomfortable while driving through the Ukrainian capitol's streets. Just in case you're wondering, we all arrived home safely, and no one was harmed in the process of getting home, despite irrational fears of my "Canadian Driving" in Kiev. V's uncle even went so far as to thank me, and state that I was in his opinion "a good driver". Mission accomplished, and I can now tick off "driving in eastern Europe" and "driving in an ex-Soviet country" off of my list of things to do.
The next day V, myself, and her grandfather, were to leave for Kharkov at 5 pm. We decided to take advantage of the late departure time, as well as having a great guide with us (grandpa), and get some sightseeing done. The first sight actually occurred prior to our leaving the home for the day. V and I climbed to the roof of the flat, and had a spectacular view of an Orthodox Church (who's name I cannot recall). We snapped a couple of pics of the beautiful golden domes, and quickly went on our way to view more sights. Throughout the rest of the day we saw Saint Sophia's Cathedral, Saint Micheal's Monastery, a couple of monuments, the arc of friendship, and an old stereotypical soviet Lada. That was really all we could fit in the day as we had to make our evening train to Kharkov. I was filled with expectations of a locomotive styled train that hadn't been changed one bit since Lenin was doing his thing. We were greeted instead with a brand spanking new train, and we were hopping on for its maiden voyage to boot. The six and a half hour train ride passed by in a breeze, filled with mini-domino playing/dominating by grandpa, and his seemingly ingenious business proposals. We finally arrived in Kharkov at 11:30 pm, greeted by V's father (whose meeting I was definitely looking forward to, although slightly nervous about). The meeting went well, and we were soon on our way to his Kharkov home, ready to settle in for the upcoming week (the topic of our next post).....
T.
Kokos was the name of the fine establishment we were quickly escorted to, for a fine night of celebration (at least that's what we imagined was in store for us). What we got instead was a tacky looking, rather empty club, that left a lot to be desired (shots that just so happened to be lit on fire seemed to be the theme of the night). Nonetheless we had a good time partying it up until 6 am, going to a friends' place after having left the club (the majority of clubs tend to close around 6 am, in fact there is no official closing time. Clubs will stay open as long as there are paying customers present). One of the most surprising occurrences of that night though was the fact that after a number of drinks, most of the people we were with could spew out comprehensible english phrases (in between bouts of yelling this is Ukraine, a la "this is Sparta", quickly followed by the downing of a whiskey or vodka shot). I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep up if the endless drinking of shots was the name of the game being played that night so instead I took the mixed drink route (mixing whiskey with coke), which based on the Ukrainian-styled peer pressure, led me to believe that "real" men didn't mix their drinks. In the end, my fellow drinkers were okay with the fact that I had mixed my shot (some of them did as well) and the "peer pressure" was simply a facade to try and get me, for the lack of a better term wasted. Most conversation that night revolved around the discussion of world football events, including (but not limited to); the upcoming Euro taking place in Poland and Ukraine, Portuguese football, the Europa League match between Metalist Kharkov and Sporting Lisbon, Chelsea Football Club, and Cristiano Ronaldo.
Waking up around 10 am the next morning, we had little time to get ourselves ready as we were to set up for another party taking place that day. We arrived at V's Uncle's new house, sitting on the banks of a fast moving tributary of the Dnieper River, ready to help anywhere we could. There was meat to be marinated, drinks to be poured, and floors to be cleaned. Everything that needed tending to, got done well before any of the guests arrived. We were to have a Georgian themed party, and no expense was spared. A Georgian band was brought in, filling the house with the sweet sounds trumpets, small guitar-like instruments similar to Greek bouzoukis, and an accordion. Delicacies were served, which as you might have guessed were native to Georgia, including an incredibly tasty Georgian red wine, Georgian salads, dips, and really anything else Georgian, except for the sushi which was served. I'm pretty sure sushi isn't a staple of Georgian cuisine, despite it being amazingly tasty and my eating 8 pieces of it. By the end of the night, some had had a couple too many drinks to be able to drive legally (although legality is a very gray area in Ukraine), and I was called upon to drive the monster that was the family car, the Toyota Sequoia. To say I was a little nervous would have been a very fair statement. I had only been in the country for roughly 19 hours at that point, and from what I had seen on the streets, it seemed that some regarded traffic laws as mere suggestions. As interim captain of the SS Sequoia, I couldn't show any fear though, as I comfortably took my position in the driver's seat. My fears were laid to rest when a) there wasn't too much traffic (it was 10 pm on a Sunday night) and b) those who did share the road with the monster were seemingly respectful of traffic laws. It took roughly 25 minutes to drive to central Kiev, and not once did I feel uncomfortable while driving through the Ukrainian capitol's streets. Just in case you're wondering, we all arrived home safely, and no one was harmed in the process of getting home, despite irrational fears of my "Canadian Driving" in Kiev. V's uncle even went so far as to thank me, and state that I was in his opinion "a good driver". Mission accomplished, and I can now tick off "driving in eastern Europe" and "driving in an ex-Soviet country" off of my list of things to do.
The next day V, myself, and her grandfather, were to leave for Kharkov at 5 pm. We decided to take advantage of the late departure time, as well as having a great guide with us (grandpa), and get some sightseeing done. The first sight actually occurred prior to our leaving the home for the day. V and I climbed to the roof of the flat, and had a spectacular view of an Orthodox Church (who's name I cannot recall). We snapped a couple of pics of the beautiful golden domes, and quickly went on our way to view more sights. Throughout the rest of the day we saw Saint Sophia's Cathedral, Saint Micheal's Monastery, a couple of monuments, the arc of friendship, and an old stereotypical soviet Lada. That was really all we could fit in the day as we had to make our evening train to Kharkov. I was filled with expectations of a locomotive styled train that hadn't been changed one bit since Lenin was doing his thing. We were greeted instead with a brand spanking new train, and we were hopping on for its maiden voyage to boot. The six and a half hour train ride passed by in a breeze, filled with mini-domino playing/dominating by grandpa, and his seemingly ingenious business proposals. We finally arrived in Kharkov at 11:30 pm, greeted by V's father (whose meeting I was definitely looking forward to, although slightly nervous about). The meeting went well, and we were soon on our way to his Kharkov home, ready to settle in for the upcoming week (the topic of our next post).....
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| Wielding a "banya broom", posing with the unknown Orthodox church. |
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| St. Michael's Monastery |
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| The Arc of Friendship, erected well after Grandpa's time because according to him, he "didn't know what it was, and it clearly wasn't that important" |
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| LADA....my dream car |
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| Riding the rails |
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