Mom and Dad Martin do Europe

Now for the series of 'posts I'm sure you've been eagerly waiting for: reports on the Martins' European Vacation. I know, I'm pretty anxious to tell about it.

Click here to view the photographic evidence

Waiting, Hoping, Wishing - March 31st

Remember a few entries ago where I was writing about an hour before I had to meet them? Following the blog I made the 15 minute stroll to the St. Clements bus stop- ecstatic that the weather was just perfect. Blue skies, a nice breeze....it was just the weather I'd hoped would greet my parents on their first day in England. I walked briskly- knowing that if they arrived at the bus stop before I did it might not be such a happy greeting-

I had expected the possibility of waiting around for an hour if there had been any delays. After the first few buses arrived with no sign of mom or dad martin I became certain that this would be the case. I passed the time watching people enjoy the day and greet their own families at the bus stop. After about 40 minutes I decided that a seat in subway would be a more comfy place to pass the time- and lunch wouldn't be a bad idea. I got a good seat next to the window and kept my eyes glued to the bus stop and passing buses for fear that they might just not get off the bus if they didn't see me.......another half hour passed by....and another.....

....and then the clouds started rolling in. My heart sank as I watched the blue sky disappear....and as the time approached 2 hours I became a bit concerned that mom and dad were waiting for me at some obscure place in oxford with no idea how to contact me. Even if they knew my phone number- I clearly was not at home, and I had no intentions of leaving as the sky looked like it was going to unleash a down pour at any moment. I listened to an American woman carry on about the details of city Real Estate to a guy who seemed uninterested at best....I endured bombardment of my sitting space by some young skater kids who reminded me of my friends from middle school at OBI...and as each bus stopped I examined the people getting off praying that mom or dad would be one of them....

...with the next blue Airline coach I watched a man walk off who seemed a little more exhausted and concerned than the rest, he looked like my dad - and when I caught a glimpse of the balding spot on the back of his head I knew without a doubt that Dad Martin had made it Oxford. Just as I rushed across the street the wind picked up and Mom barely had time to have a good cry and a hug before the rain started....so much for the cheery welcome to England...

I was just relieved to see them and finally start the walk back to Stanley Road. Mom had bought rolly duffel bag/back packs which only came in bright Kentucky Blue....she had also packed a spare duffel entirely stuffed with food for me which might have weighed more both of their luggage combined. I was impressed with Mom's ability to pack so light- but the uneven and often bricked sidewalks in Oxford are unkind to anything on wheels- so we had to stop frequently to get balanced again which I'm sure made for an interesting site. As we rolled along the sky cleared up and by the time we made it to the house, all was perfectly sunny again. Perhaps even with a later start than expected, the evening was going to be nice after all.

Falling behind, and I haven't even Started yet

April 10, 2007

I have always been known to be a slow poke. The catchphrase of my life is "hold on" and has been ever since I could utter the words "I'll be there in a minute". I suppose I just never was motivated to rush or get in much of a hurry. Yeah, I'm one of "those" people you get impatiently annoyed with because I just have no concept of time. My life's greatest flaw. My only consolation is that perhaps I'm bound to live longer since I'm just not in a big hurry to get life over with.

I'm generally used to feeling behind on school work or a ton of other projects I'm wanting to get around to. But lately I feel as though I am falling behind everyone in life in general- recently so many things are just changing. Everyone is moving on, following new directions, making decisions....and I - well I just realized that I'm 3 days late for declaring a topic for my Honor's thesis, I'm a few months behind for figuring out summer plans, and I'm struggling just to figure out which classes to register for next year byond the mere 16 hours that I have left for graduation. At least I'm ahead of the game on one thing- if I had thought about it I guess I could have graduated at December- but that would only mean I'd have to figure the next step sooner....totally not my style. :)

It's not as though I don't have options. Sort of. Basically, I can either move to a city and essentially pay to volunteer for something related to my interests- or I can just stay close to home and work like crazy to pay for next school year. This can not be interesting to read about- but it is on my mind.

Here comes the kink: my sister just told me last week that she will be moving to Alabama less than 10 days before I return to the states this June!! Now, I have missed my friends lately- but I have longed to spend time with my sister for probably 2 years now. Last summer was crazy with the wedding- and I left for school while she was on her honeymoon and didn't see her for 2 months...then of course, I spent a week and a half home for Christmas before coming to England- and now it seems that I will be lucky if I see her once or twice before returning to Georgetown in the fall.

This makes me incredibly sad. Of course, I don't think it has really sunk in yet that she won't be around when I get home- because I've gotten used to being away from everyone over here- but I am inclined to move to Alabama this summer for the 8 weeks before fall semester if I find it hard justifying a loan to do some volunteer interning in Ky- if anyone reading this knows of something I can do around Fort Ruckers let me know!!!

Ultimately, I'm not horribly concerned about the fact that I have no clue what life will bring after 2 months from today. Maybe that fact is something to worry about---I'm sure it will all work out one way or another. I suppose I have let myself become a little too disconnected from my life as a college student belonging to the Bluegrass.....a little focus is what is needed.

....but until that happens, Kristie and I are planning our next trip to Dublin followed by Paris! I can't think of a better way to end my European travels to an end before slaving away on those essays come next Tuesday. We're just squeezing in every bit of excitement we can while it can last.

Blessings on Easter

I am waking up this morning at Caitlan's brother's apartment in London...not quite the typical Easter Sunday I have ever had before, but of course the past 3 months have been anything but typical.

I have had a wonderful week with my parents. The weather was simply amazing all week. Belgium is one now making my list for one of the most beautiful places in the world.- and I can't imagine a better way to have spent Holy Week, a reflection on the sacrifice of my Saviour, than by retracing the steps of my Grandfather during the WWII Battle of Ardennes at Bastogne. He was my age-about 22- and he was fortunate to have endured the bitter cold with little supplies they had that December. I think of how much stronger and driven-how much greater the physical pain he endured- just at the age of 22 than I may ever come to meet. It is hard to imagine really.....of course it is- because it should a bit unnatural to want to think of such real suffering or sacrifice beyond hollywood's creations.....

....it leads me this Easter to reflect on Christ's suffering in a new way...I know that his death and the torture he endured was far greater than anything my grandfather encountered for me, his future generation.... So- if I know that I cannot fully realize what a soldier went through 60 years ago, how much greater is my inability to imagine just how immense the pain, the sacrifice, the blessing for me by Christ?

Last night I attented an Easter vigil at St. Paul's Cathedral, here in London. It was magnificent. And while the painting I was sitting by in the church evoked emotions towards the suffering of Christ on the cross, I couldn't help but share the joy and countless "Alleluias" in a crowd of hundreds celebrating his resurrection and life.

To know that I am a part of a body that extends across the oceans..whether within one of the oldest,most architecturally celebrated churches in history or perhaps a basement floor hideaway...a body that connects me with past generations-beyond that of my grandfather even....that is certainly a blessing.

Finally, Visitors for Me

Only one more hour until I meet Mom and Dad at the St. Clements bus stop! It is a surprisingly beautiful day here in Oxford...nothing like my first day here when it was cold and cloudy. I had expected rain today but it looks as though mom and dad might get a good taste of beautiful Oxford.

Needless to say, I'm am so excited 1. about my parents first trip to Europe and 2. the fact that I'm having visitors...I am a person who need my time just for me- but a week of that has been plenty and it will be nice to finally share some of my experience with family. No matter how great blogs or pictures...nothing can really replace the experience of walking through the streets here and just soaking it all in - in person.

Ryan's parents arrived the other day and Kristie and I tagged along to show them around the city. I guess this was my practice run for being the tour guide for my family. We had a good time and it was neat to see their excitement about everything. I'm jealous because they are going to Dublin! and I don't think I'm going to make it to Ireland this time around. I suppose living with an Irish guy will have to do for now....

Its surprising how much I've learned about the school, the buildings, the architects, the history- I guess part of that is the result of trying to write about things here for family back home- Last night I joined Ryan and his father and Kristie and her boyfriend Tyler in an evening at The Turf Pub....it really is one of the coolest pubs here I think- if you didn't know where it was you would never find it because it is at the end of this long little alley and not really marked at all. It was my first night in a while to just walk around Oxford at night- since I've gotten my bike I guess I haven't walked much anywhere. I wonder if I'm just getting used to living in such a beautifully unique place. Perhaps the next few days with my parents will allow me to re-appreciate it all as I try to share it with them.

The next few days will be interesting just to see how we react as a family travelling abroad. hah. Sometimes I just laugh thinking about us....and we haven't even started yet. Those of you who know my family well- know exactly why.

We plan to go to Belgium to see the battlefield where my grandfather fought in Bastogne...and we plan to see Phantom of the Opera in London (because I couldn't resist it being Mom's favorite movie)......so they are excited about that...but I am most of all excited about Mom cooking for me tonight and tomorrow. That is all I really want. I have been missing them and it will be good just to visit.

Photo Access!!

I'm excited to have finally figured out how to post my complete photo albums on here. It will save me tons of time trying to decide which pictures to display in my blog...especially with the recent travel photos!! The links are to the right..and you just click on the photos to see them...don't worry, you don't have to be a member of facebook.

The Segrada Familia

When I woke up around 3 pm I was completely disoriented and forgot that I had gone to sleep in the hostel...my new Barcelonean home for the next few days.

We got ourselves together and decided to find our way to the number one tourist destination: The Segrada Familia.

We decided to navigate our way by a little walk around to enjoy the city-something you can't do on a metro...It was wonderful. The little cafes, the shops, even the pavement (sidewalk) which was tiled with a floral pattern was so picturesque and just how I would imagine spain to look. Almost every building had a balcony made of black rod iron fashionably shaped into neat curves. Floral type molding covered many of the entrances to these buildings and the windows and such. No building looked the same really. And most had some type of design or color to them. Though it was a large and modern city, the history here was evident on every corner.

We reached the basillica called the Segrada Familia (The Holy Family) which is an ongoing construction site vistited by millions of people each year. The designer, Gaudi, spent 40 years on it before dying in 1926 and the work is expected to continue for many years to come. Despite the fact that his entire vision has not yet been completed..this was the most unique basillica I encountered on all of my travels. There was just soo much to look at and I think I could stare for hours and never truly see all of the details of the building. The statues depict many of the events in the life of Christ and the disciples. The nativity facade (my first picture there) was very Gaudi like. I still am amazed by it looking back on my pictures.

The nativity facade was no less impressive..even though it was obviously not as old nor as Gaudi-like as the other side of the basillica.

The statues were beautiful. But I wondered what it would be like to go to church where Judas' betrayal of Jesus stands right next to the door way- a constant reminder of human nature....just the thing to get some good worship going I suppose....

We wandered on and found our first Tapas bar which we decided was definitely authentic Spanish because the guy working the counter spoke absolutely no english. This was agood chance for us to test our spanish skills- even though the only thing I could make out on the menu was ham and cheese. Of course our spanish didn't come in very handy as in Barcelona the people speak what is called Catalan...but we managed for the most part. I discovered quickly that pork is a staple food item in spain....

(My travel buddies outside the Tapas Bar, our first dining experience )

By this time in the evening we were dead tired of walking...but determined to make it to Park Guelle...an entire park that is designed by Gaudi... this is when we discovered that Barcelona is built on a very very steep hill......we walked what seemed like forever and were sad that the park was not lit up enough for us to enjoy it...we trekked the miles back to the hostel promising to return tomorrow....and ready to ride the Metro.

Barcelona and a Grand Beginning

Since I could not take my laptop along on the trip, I suppose I will just have to start from day one, using my journal entries and memories to blog on the experiences. Hopefully it will flow enough to understand.

The first day was essentially part of the day before the first day of travel
->meaning that we did not sleep the night before our flight to Barcelona, Spain. I had spent the day collecting maps and directions info online while Kristie gave Bobbie Jo the grand London tour, when they got back around 10 pm and we started getting everything together, we realized that we would have to catch a very early bus to London Gatwick Airport- early as in 3 am....or so I thought....

at about 1am I rechecked the bus times and realized the bus headed out was at 2~~!!! Our last hour of packing was a bit of a frantic moment for me. Even though I had spent most of the day getting ready, I felt so unprepared~! Packing everything for 8 days into one backpack just didn't seem like it should cut it, I knew I had to be foregetting something...but as 1:50 rolled around it was time to be on our way.

We strolled down Iffely Road pretty briskly considering we were on the verge of missing the bus...luckly we made it with time to spare. Me worrying about potential disasters soon became a theme of this trip. Bobbie Jo and Kristie tended to be a little less worried so I guess we made for a well balanced group.

After nearly a 2 hour wait in the airport, we were finally seated on the plane around 7 am- finally, time to go to sleep!We booked the cheapest flights possible- this one was with Easyjet (sounds reliable eh?) so I wasn't sure what to expect- but all went smoothly and I woke up just as we were flying over a mountain range north of Barcelona. As this was only my 3rd flight destination ever- it was my first opportunity to view mountains from a plane- and I suppose any mountain range at all outside of the Appalachians, they were absolutely breath taking.

From the sky Barcelona appeared very brown- as opposed to England which was very greenish- The tan color of the beach sand seemed to fade right on into the hundreds of buildings and on into the hills behind them. Barcelona was massive. Luckily the streets were on the grid pattern and not the crazy circle arrangement like Lexington- so navigation wasn't bad but I don't want to even know how many miles we walked over the city.

We caught a bus from the airport to the city, and ended about 10 minutes walk from our hostel. The walk up via Rumbla y Catalunya seemed endless as we were loaded with our backpacks and I had not dressed for such warm weather. When we finally stumbled upon the entrance to our hostel we were pretty perplexed as it actually looked like a respectable building in the center of the city- I had imagined the hostel to be more like a concentration camp with 20 bunkbeds in a dark and dingy room- since our method for choosing the places were based on the cheapest bed we could find in the city, we were certainly risking that possibility throughout the trip - but this place seemed fine enough- It came complete with free internet access, breakfast, kitchen access and balconies overlooking the city from the kitchen area-

there it is...so normal looking we almost missed it.

view from the hostel balcony looking down via Rumbla y Catalunya

Our room mates were three girls from Sweden who were living in Barcelona for over a month- the hostel was alright but there is no way I would want to stay more than a few days. Another guy there, Abe was from the states and was now working there as the kitchen cleaner and in town as a translator. He had been traveling the all over and ran out of money when he got to Barcelona- so he stumbled upon the job at the hostel which gave him a place to live as well- he was telling the room how he had earned enough money over the past few months to move on to South America soon- I suppose I knew some people spent much of their lives traveling around, but I never new "world traveler" could qualify as an ultimate occupation- to see whatever you can and start work where ever you happen to run out of money- and live until you make enough to go to the next place---I'm curious what it would be like, but not sure I would be cut out for it. But I guess if my life were paycheck to paycheck it might as well go hand in hand with a little adventure. I know I would never have the guts to just go for it though.

So there we were, with our grand entrance to Barcelona, and with in an hour of arrival all three of us were dead asleep for at least 3 or 4 hours. Some hard core back packers, eh?