celind73's Travel Blog

B.C. - Before Communication - Malaga, Spain

 This place was Average visited May 1997

There was a time, not too long ago, when people did not have access to or use the communication technology that we today could not (seemingly) possibly live without. Before the breakthrough of the World Wide Web, mobile telephony, SMS, instant messaging, email, digital cameras, Ipods, DVD, or what have you...That was the case for the class of 1996/1997 in Malaga, Spain. Using the Internet basically meant calling the main campus – obviously in Spanish – to make a reservation to use a computer with a insanely slow dial-up connection. Useful for finding information, useless for communicating – nobody had an email address anyway... Few people owned mobile telephones. Making phone calls to the homeland was indeed possible, but the roaming charges were astronomical...Even fewer people owned landphones, and those who did were restricted to incoming calls. Apparently Spanish landlords did not have the greatest of trust in young foreign students... World news, one might wonder? Swedish or international newspapers in Torremolinos or Fuengirola, 10 and 30 kilometers away respectively. Spanish newspapers, good reading practice, but time consuming. Television, indeed. Mainly soccer, incomprehensible gameshows, movies dubbed into Spanish. BBC, CNN, Eurosport, Euronews – yeah, right... So how did people communicate then, not being able to make a snapshot on their Nokia and sending it instantly around the world, or not being able to log on to MSN Messenger to chat with friends or family, or just pop into an Internet café that you can find today in the most remote of locations? Letters or postcards – Yup, writing manually can actually be fun, and postal service did in fact deliver. Using payphones and prepaid phonecards – Today considered ancient behavior, at the time the standard mean of communicating with the family and friends at home. Personal visit – Hey now! What’s that? For those who were raised in the digital age – the act of putting on shoes, and manually walking/biking/driving/rollerblading from your own home to the home of someone you know, knock on the door, and show up unannounced. In the western world of today considered odd behavior, back then sometimes the only option of getting together. When this is written, that was the reality for the international student crowd in Malaga only 10 years ago. Stone age/strange/inconvenient/complicated? Maybe. But the most memorable time of my life. Totally cut off (oh, well…) from the outside world, depending on your friends on site, and actually getting to know people in 3-D. Fantastic. Has the world become better with in this digital era? Think I’ll leave that discussion for philosophers and scientists. All I know is that I had the time of my life. Remains to be seen where we stand another 10 years from now.

posted Nov 29, 2006 | Comments (0)

Alkmaarder - Copenhagen, Denmark

 This place was Great visited Jul 2006

When you’re traveling alone and check in for a flight you never know who you’re going to end up next to. That’s why I always check in early and choose the window seat. If nothing else, you can look out the window, admire the view. Sometimes you get lucky and end up to someone who can keep you nice company during the flight, making the time goes faster. However, the short – one hour – flight between Amsterdam and Copenhagen isn’t exactly the ideal trip to make long term friends with strangers, so a lot of people try to use the time to make up some sleep and take a nap. Exactly what the young girl next to me decided to do. Will never know her name, but found out she’s from Alkmaar north of Amsterdam, going to see her boyfriend in Denmark. A warm smile towards her neighbor for the next hour – me – and she’s off to dreamland. She tries to lean against the rest, but she’s too short. So, next she tries to hold her head straight up and nap. No good, it keeps on falling to the side. Head to the right, snap and straighten it up. Head to the left, snap and straighten it up. Maybe she subconsciously realizes her head is entering unknown territory, and pulls out. Maybe this is how she always sleeps. Cute in an awkward way, but seemingly very uncomfortable. Being the gentleman I am, offer her to switch seats, so that she can lean against the window. Politely she turns down with the motivation that looking out over the wing would make her even more uncomfortable. So the twitching and swaying continues throughout the trip. I could never have imagined that watching someone trying to sleep could be this entertaining, but it sure as hell beat reading the in-flight magazine...

posted Nov 29, 2006 | Comments (0)

Cracking The Code - Amsterdam, Netherlands

 This place was Great visited Sep 2006

Pretty much every single song ever written has a meaning. Some songs have deeper meanings than other songs. Actually, considering the massive output of songs throughout the years, most songs ever written probably mean very little to the vast majority. Personally, I’ve only taken the time to analyze no more than a dozen or so songs to find the true meaning and apply to my own situation. Most of them in association with romantic situations. In fact, all but one. But it took two. By coincidence on a Saturday night out, Mr. M and me started singing on one of the most brilliant rock songs ever written – Proud Mary. After having sung it numerous times in various versions, was started to actually listen to it. After having listening to it, we started to translating the lyrics to our native language Swedish. After having translated the lyrics, this song with seemingly little depth gained a whole new perspective. So, what have we got...? A character, probably a man, who left a good job in the city and hitched a ride on a river boat queen. Never lost a minute of sleep worrying about the way things might have been. Going up and down Mississippi, making some stops in Memphis and New Orleans. No financial worries, people on the river happy to give. So, this brilliant masterpiece that in the eyes and the ears of the big mass is merely a tune for karaoke bars or live pub evenings, is hereby been proven to have a much deeper significance, one that most will never comprehend. Repeating: a guy (or a girl) in the riverboat era, cruises the mighty Mississippi, leaves all the worries ashore. The code is cracked, the content of the song revealed – so simple but yet so complex. At least to two slightly intoxicated Swedish guys on a Saturday evening in Amsterdam. Big wheels keep on turning. Tina Turner said it well. The greatest diva of all – Proud Mary keeps on burning.

posted Nov 29, 2006 | Comments (0)

Shaken, Not Stirred - Alton, United Kingdom

 This place was Average visited Nov 2006

There are good movies, there are bad movies, and there are James Bond movies. James Bond movies tend to be compared to other Bond movies – not to other Hollywood action/adventure/drama flicks. Therefore, whenever a new Bond film is released on the big screen, even the least level of interest in the character James Bond generates a certain level of anticipation and excitement. So, for a Bond fan like myself, what better way to combine a weekend in England with catching the newest Bond on the opening weekend? The setting is ideal – small local theater, and in the company of an enthusiastic English crowd. No previews, no commercials, no nonsense. Straight to the point. Enter Daniel Craig as 007 in Casino Royale. For a couple of minutes at least...White lines across the screen, blurry picture. If something appears too good to be true, it probably is. In a desperate attempt to save the situation, the movie is turned off by the management. The audience, under the assumption that Bond will return momentarily, is chatting away in amusement. When the light is turned on after a few minutes, the chatter turns into a uniform laugh. The last laugh is however on the poor man walking up in front making the announcement that the projector is broken, and that the show is cancelled. Takes a few seconds to sink in, but where in many places this scenario could cause a minor riot, the local audience politely raise hands to ask questions to the manager regarding the possibilities to rebook. So, an evening in the theater with 007 is turned into a cozy evening in the living room couch with a documentary on James Bond theme songs. The good thing about modern movies is that they are issued in very many copies. If one fails, there is a good chance that someone else will satisfy your needs. One perfectly well functioning showing is to be found the next day in a multiplex theater in the nearest mid-size town. Different price, different atmosphere, different audience, but nevertheless – Bond, James Bond.

posted Nov 21, 2006 | Comments (0)

Tour De France - Paris, France

 This place was Average visited Jul 2005

Paris is a great city in many ways. It is also a terrible city in other ways. One of the ways in which Paris is absolutely horrible is its traffic. Observing it from the sidewalk café is one thing. Observing the Paris traffic from a moving car which you are yourself responsible for the maneuvering of is a completely different ballpark. Paris may be the city personified, but the traffic is pure jungle. Going into close combat with the Parisians on wheels is one of those adventures you will look back at laughing one day, but once in the middle of it you need to be 1000% focused on the task, or there will be a big bang. Having said that...The Paris weekend for us four Swedish out-of-towners had come to an end. As a glorious finish of our weekend we thought it would be a good idea to drive right into the lion’s den, tour up the Champs Elysee, take a few spins around the Triumph Arc, and then head out of Paris in victory. That idea should have been subject to serious review, thought, and vote. It turned out to be a very very bad idea. The first part of the journey from the outskirts of Paris towards the center went pretty well. The straight roads and the boulevards are rather straightforward go-with-the-flow routes. The tough part comes when you need to go though a traffic circle. There is no way to avoid traffic circles in France – when the concept of the traffic circle was invented and entered the market, France must have placed a very good bid and gotten a bulk discount. Bought up a great amount of traffic circles, and since there is no such thing as a “traffic circle warehouse”, they had to put them in action. Randomly distributed throughout France and Paris, they effectively create confusing and dangerous obstacles to any sort of reasonably logical driving. Entering the traffic circles is fairly easy – just try not to get hit, and you’re in. Driving in the Paris traffic circles must be one of the most challenging exercises of driving on this planet. All of a sudden there are cars everywhere. There are no lanes – you create your own space. The cars around you couldn’t care less about you – there’s a very obvious stay-out-of-my-way attitude prevailing, and that is not to be messed with; keep a safe distance to the car in front of you – it will slam the brakes sooner or later without any sort of warning. Keep a safe distance to the car behind you – it will try to pass you, preferably by going through you since that seems to be the shortest way. Definitely, and most importantly, keep an eye on the cars to your left and to your right – they are not interested in whether they hit you or not, if you crash or not yielding for them, if you have to go up in smoke in order to avoid a collision – if they feel a need for changing direction, they will. With that pattern – fairly straight street race and hazardous traffic circle challenges we headed straight for the Arc. Went pretty well until we reached the Louvre. There the French had put some road blocks, blocking all access to the Champs Elysees and the Triumph Arc. Someone had decided that a bunch of guys on bicycles should have the streets all to themselves to finish this little race. At the time it seemed like a pretty unfair thing to do by the French. But, afterwards, I guess letting those guys finish the Tour de France like they’ve always done in central Paris made sense...After all, trying to enter the finishing area of one of the largest and most legendary athletic events in the world, with a rental car in one of the largest cities in Europe, having totally missed this fact in the news, was admittedly a bit ignorant…However, once you’re in there, getting out isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Paris sucks you in, and throws you around in circles until you by pure coincidence happen to remotely see a sign that could lead you to freedom. Map, some would suggest. Yes, wonderful idea that would require at least a tiny bit of motivation and interest of co-drivers to assist. Finally, one of the mentioned signs turned up in the shape of a – sign. A traffic sign suggesting that the freeway to freedom was near. And it was. Lance Armstrong beat us to the finish line of Tour de France, but at least we got out...

posted Apr 21, 2006 | Comments (0)