The Last Blog.

As my days in Europe draw to an end, so does the blogging. Cassie is alive, and she is coming home.

I left off in Montepulciano, Italy before MJ necessitated a brief interruption. Here Danielle and I drank wine like it was our job. Wine with breakfast, wine with lunch, wine for dinner, and wine tasting in between all three. We mastered the concept of a perma-buzz. I look back very fondly at that sweet little Tuscan town.

Our day trip to Florence resulted in serious euro depletion and one fantastic new leather jacket.

… And I saw the David, and it was a very memorable moment for me. I went in kind of expecting another hyped up art piece (burned by the anticlimactic Mona Lisa experience) and upon rounding the corner I actually stopped in my tracks and gaped like an idiot. He is absolutely enormous and spectacular. His hand is like the size of my torso. And he is so perfect it’s impossible to find a flaw. I bought a postcard that is how impressed I was.

Then today we did a tour of the Vatican and I can officially say I’m in love with Michelangelo. Yes I realize he was a strange dirty man that cut up corpses … but the stories told throughout his work are seriously incredible. He is a fascinating creature. Forget the postcards; I bought a huge thick plaque/poster thing that I have to figure out how to get home now. And with it comes a fantastic story that makes the whole thing worth it.

The Coliseum also lived up to its reputation. It’s impressive from the outside and then you get inside and it’s just unreal. It honestly took me back in time; I was expecting a tiger to emerge and eat me at any second.

Now we have one more day to indulge in wine, pasta, bread, and all other things Roman. Go big, then go home.

First thing on the agenda in the States? MEXICAN FOOD!

InVision, see you Monday!

MICHAEL JACKSON.

On August 3, 2009 Danielle was scheduled to see MJ live in concert in London. Tickets already purchased. Number one on her bucket list. It was a huge factor in our travel plans. And (obviously) it never happened.

A little background…………

Danielle has loved (truly loved) MJ since her first clear memory. His was the first CD she ever bought. She has all his videos and moves memorized. Ironically, she had the tickets for August 3 in London to finally see him live. And then he went and died, and Danielle purchased the 32-DVD collector’s edition from her office cube the moment she found out (after hundreds of concerned phone calls, the equivalent of a family member dying) …. and then she cried.

When we found each other in Germany, his name was mentioned (gently) and I admitted I had never seen an MJ video. After Danielle hyperventilated and regained herself, she immediately brought out her computer and the two of us watched several MJ videos. After that, an addiction was born. Every train ride, every spare second … MJ filled our hours. I slowly began to understand the significance of his death. The magnitude of the loss the world had endured.

Everywhere we went people united over MJ. Every country, the same reaction. I was buying fruit at a market in Paris, and the guy ringing me up asked ‘American?’ I said ‘Yes. Oui.’ And he said ‘Michael Jackson, no?’ and (kid you not) busted out a few MJ moves right there in the market in front of me. I smiled, and nodded, and pretended to wipe a tear from my eye. Every time we walked anywhere, MJ was blasting from speakers in the cars driving by; every nightclub we frequented, MJ was bringing the dance floor to life. I realized quickly that he is more than an American legend. He is a global phenomenon that draws people together.

As a result, he became the theme of our entire trip, and led us to some interesting places. In Amsterdam, stumbling home at 2AM, we heard MJ coming from a random bar next to our hotel. I believe my last words were ‘Just one song, we have to.’ Three hours later, I was on the back of a bicycle (I couldn’t walk at this point) being cycled home from the dance club we ended up at with the locals we met inside the bar. We credit MJ.

Now (August 3rd) Danielle and I are sitting in the lobby of the hotel we are at (not in London, sad) drinking very expensive wine purchased in Montepulciano, and watching every MJ video ever produced. The hotel receptionist thinks we are on crack. Danielle is wearing her one sparkled glove. I actually stood up and attempted some MJ moves at one point. We had to honor him, and the concert that never happened. A bucket list that will never be complete. Ohhhhh MJ. This one’s for you.

View From Our Apartment

Wine and MEATBALLS!

“It’s like an angel pissing on your tongue” – that is what the Dutch say when something tastes good. In case you were wondering.

Amsterdam was a huge, and very pleasant, surprise for me. While I had heard about the coffee shops that sell pot (because that is all anyone ever says about it) I had no idea that it was an adorable place with canals and bridges and beautiful brick buildings everywhere. Like taking the best of Boston and San Francisco and combining it into this quaint city with a fun atmosphere about it. I went in picturing a dirty druggy town. They DO have public, exposed urinals in the middle of everything (we were alarmed at first) but otherwise so cute.

And EVERYONE bikes there. My first two hours I kept walking in the bike lanes on accident because they are everywhere and the packs of bikers would yell at me or furiously ding their little bells until I moved. We finally rented bikes and cruised the city ourselves, yelling at stupid tourists that got in our lanes. (Okay so we actually cruised the city in complete disarray causing near-accidents with cars and bikers because we had no idea where we were going or what lanes belonged to us). So fun.

And we learned that pancakes are the staple of the Dutch diet. Pancakes with cheese, pancakes with butter … even pancake sushi. You name it, stick it in a pancake and they'll eat it.

The Red Light District was … incredibly disturbing. The end.

Monday morning we left Amsterdam …… and 1 subway stop, 3 train transfers, 1 flight, 1 bus and a pack mule later we arrived in Montepulciano, Italy. Words can’t describe this city. Medieval meets wine country meets the most gorgeous scenery you can imagine. We walked in to our apartment, and the view from the window looked fake. Something you see in a movie … or heaven. We headed straight for the nearest Italian restaurant and (language barrier) ordered a bottle of wine each, and just basked in the fact that we are here.

Side note: For all of you Twilight fans, the second movie in the series (New Moon) was filmed here just a few weeks ago. The scene where she follows him to Italy and runs through the fountain … it was all steps from where we are staying! We have seen photos of them in restaurants and shops. I care about these things. I should also mention that I saw the new Harry Potter movie opening night in Paris. I’m not ashamed.

We remain here for another week and then head to this lovely place that my dad sponsored a room for us for the night of my birthday, as a gift while I'm out here. THANK YOU!! – From Cassie and Danielle

http://www.residenzadarte.com/borgo_eng.html

Val, look familiar? ;)

Hope everyone’s summer is going well! Ciào!

BASTILLE DAY!


























and The Louvre









(I couldn't take it anymore. 23,456,200 espressos later, I HAD to have an iced coffee! I know ... I know ... It's embarrassing.)

No more baguettes =(

Today is my last day in Paris … until I return July 14, 2010 for next year’s Bastille Day ;)

The French seriously know how to celebrate their Independence. Danielle and I were up at 7am (a first) amidst thousands of people waiting at Champs Elysees for the parade to begin. They kicked it off with military flyovers (so fun) and throughout the rest of the day we came across every single possible type of service and military uniform that you have ever seen or imagined … Danielle announced that she had just walked into Baskin Robbins. The afternoon festivities gave way to a night of dancing when Danielle and I joined up with our firefighters for dinner and then on to the station, which had been completely transformed into a dance club. I was forced to learn how to dance to techno because the DJ laughed at me when I requested Lady GaGa.

My French relative, Lorenzo (second cousin? something cousin once removed?) has been a fantastic help for the last week here. One of the nights he gave us a night tour of Paris in his VW convertible! I thought I might die in the roundabouts, but otherwise very enjoyable and educational.

And I have finally experienced the famous Louvre! The Mona Lisa was kind of anticlimactic to be honest. Maybe I just don’t ‘get’ art … but if I wasn’t taught the importance of the painting, I would likely not give it a second look. I took a picture with her anyways ;)

Now we are headed to Amsterdam and after some research we have found some things to do there BESIDES smoke pot. And we have a four and a half hour train ride to learn some Dutch!

Goodbye Paris! We will miss you.

Fun Day Task Force, this one's for you.

We are not going to Pamplona anymore. =(

July 14th was the only day of the San Fermin Festival that we could work into our schedule and when Danielle realized that Bastille Day falls on the same day, she (understandably) preferred to remain in Paris for the celebration rather than pay money to fly/train into Pamplona and risk her life.

But there is a consolation prize ...

We had just finished a round of espressos (and I was silently pondering ways to get to Pamplona by myself) when we happened upon twenty-two firefighters (full uniform) hanging out at a neighboring café. Pamplona was instantly forgotten as the three of us unanimously agreed it was time for another round of espressos.

Turns out they are with a huge number of firefighters that had come to Paris from other places to participate in the parade the morning of Bastille Day. AND … apparently after the parade all the fire stations in the city transform into hang-outs/bars for what we have deemed a ‘Firehouse Crawl’, and the festivities continue all night. We are meeting them tomorrow evening at one of the stations to start the crawl with them.

The bulls will be there next year.

Marie! The baguettes! Hurry up!

Bonjour from France!

Danielle and I happened upon our first French friend on the train ride from Germany. Thibault is a 23 year old Paris native who speaks fluent English, and he instructed us on everything Paris. Poor guy was dealing with two American girls who don't know a lick of French ( he says menage a trios doesn't count), but he cheerfully assured us, and I quote 'Your accents are so cute, they will forgive you.' He also wrote a list of places he recommends we frequent, categorized by what type of scene we feel like that night. The last category was 'Dirty Places" (the French equivalent to dive bars ... we hope ... )

Our new place is a charming little Bohemian flat located in the district of Paris called Belleville (questionable the gay district). There's nothing touristy about it (love this), and it's filled with the hustle bustle you would imagine in Paris. The streets are packed with lively pubs, cafes, open-air markets and one French speaking Asian with red hair operating a German hot dog stand (fact).

Aside from a few must-sees (ie Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre) we basically move from crepe stand to crepe stand. No real plan or agenda. Danielle has her handy little travel guides to keep us informed of where we are and the history behind all the places we go. And I have my credit cards to buy everything I see because I can't resist the fashion here!)

To summarize: I am having the time of my life with two of my best friends in one of the most amazing and fun cities in the world. Life is great. I'm afraid I might wake up! ;)

Editor's note: Apologies for not including Gustav, the German gnome, in my previous farewell. Daneille read my blog and was horrified that I forgot to mention him.

Gustav, my man, you served us well.

Farewell to the squirrel that sits before the German Bank.

Where to begin ...

My last post was a quick scatterbrained announcement that I was alive ... and via comments I realized I didn't make anything clear.

For starters, yes, I found Danielle. 'A man named Oliver' turned out to be her adorable 25-year old cousin, and he actually found me (sleepwalking through the airport, trying to speak German) and directed me to Danielle's gate. This was the beginning of him taking care of us. He's like our little German Angel sent to protect us. Friend, tour guide, translator, travel agent and body guard. (Dad, are you paying him?)

We have been staying at his parent's house (Danielle's Aunt and Uncle), and they are the happiest, sweetest couple, and just absolutely spoil us. We spent the week exploring the city of Mannheim, Germany, and trying to master enough German to get by. I learned 'thank you' (Danke, pronounced dawn-kay) and kept accidentally saying 'donkey' out of habit. We also spent one night in Darmstadt, at Oli's apartment. It was coincidentally the weekend of a huge annual fair that takes over the town, and we got to partake in the festivities with all the locals. Live music, carnival rides, food stands, games ... the works. We spent the 4th of July on the American Army Base, and that was a huge festival too.

I am already attached to sparkling water, fresh loaves of bread, and drinking tea at all hours of the day. I didn't know that they listen to all our music that we have back home, which is fun because Danielle and I can dance and sing along like pros. (We have already heard Poker Face a few hundred times, it's strangely comforting)

One minor setback. A rash that developed on my arms (which I initially wrote off as a reaction to the dirty 7-dollar blanket I bought) developed into full blown allergies, complete with sneezing fits and a constant burning and itching in my nose. Just as I was about to scratch my nose off, Oli figured out what it was (I've never suffered allergies, and didn't realize what was happening) and went and bought me pills, which have helped immensely. Danielle's Uncle asked me about my symptoms, listened carefully, then said "You drink six beers. You be fine." Oh, I will miss him.

Tomorrow we take the train to Paris, France. I am a little nervous to move forward without our German protectant, but he has work. (Danielle and I forget these things) Our friend Allison is flying in from New York to meet us, and the three of us have six days together. We are titling this chapter 'Donkeys Unite.'

PLEASE NOTE: Danielle and I don't fly to Pamplona until the 13th, so if you see any headlines in the next week about Americans getting trampled, rest assured that I am safe and alive in Paris.

Papa, Ich lebe noch!

That means "Dad, I´m alive" in German.

I´ll write again after I run with the bulls in Pamplona. And don´t worry, we are going to represent on the 4th. Apparently there is an American Army base in this town where they have a huge party every year ... me like.

"according to the map we've only gone 4 inches"

Jo (the expert) suggested I blog once before I left (just remembered that) so here I am on a layover in Philadelphia attempting to post this blog from my blackberry. My flight to Frankfurt boards in an hour.

On my first flight I found out they charge for blankets now. Seven dollars. My poor choice of travel attire left me freezing and desperate, so I purchased it anyways. Even the stewardess was surprised. Now I'm the proud owner of a US Airways embroidered blanket, elastic eye cover, inflatable head rest, and ear plugs. I look like a spokesperson for the airline.

I haven't actually talked to Danielle outside of facebook wall posts since MJ died (she went into mild depression and disappeared) and since the posts were mostly about tattoos of donkeys being chased by bulls the details for finding each other in Germany are somewhat hazy. Apparently there's a man named Oliver picking us up, and I'm supposed to find him when I land. Very useful information, since I've never seen Oliver in my life. As for Danielle, I know the exact time she lands, and from where, but her airline is unclear which complicates things. At least I know what she looks like.

My seven week detour from life has begun!
=)