Spring break '09: My 11-day European adventure

I’ve skied in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont, Colorado, Utah, Montana, California, British Columbia and the French and Swiss Alps. I’ve seen the Golden Gate Bridge, been to Fenway Park, (The Old) Yankee Stadium and Wrigley Field in one season. I’ve lay on the beaches of Acapulco, Mexico and Punta Cana, Dominican Republic and cruised the Caribbean islands. I’ve been to the World Series, Super Bowl, NBA Finals and Sweet 16 in a short span of five years, all including the teams for which I diehardingly (made up word, but it fits) follow (I was 3-1; the Badgers failed me against Stephen Curry in Detroit).

Wow, I’ve done a lot of amazing things in my 21 1/6-year existence. But to be perfectly honest, these past 11 days, as a whole, have rivaled all the above-mentioned experiences.

Max, Henry, Doug, Tyler, Brady and I (the boys of Templova 7) were greeted by sunshine and palm trees in Barcelona two Fridays ago. That big, bright star of ours has become a novelty, as Max, Tyler and I seem to be haunted by the same rain cloud wherever we travel. The six of us took a bus to Brady’s high school friend’s apartment in Barceloneta, which is right on the beach of the Mediterranean Sea – sand between your toes was a nice change of pace from the wind and hail in Prague. The location was perfect; the only downside was that her place was the size of your average Dodge Caravan. Luckily, her two roommates were gone traveling, so Brady, Henry, Tyler and Doug shared the pullout coach and one empty bed; Max and I left our bags there and went to stay with Erica, a fellow Bostonian Badger from Sharon.

We, Americans call New York the City That Never Sleeps. We, Americans are wrong. New York is the City That Barely Sleeps. Barcelona is truly the City That Never Sleeps. It’s wild. You don’t go out to the raging clubs until around 2 a.m. and walk home as the sun is coming (or is already) up. But it’s not as if you then sleep ‘til 5 p.m. to make up for it; there’s too much going on during the day for head-to-pillow contact.

La Rambla is the main strip in downtown Barcelona. It’s crazy, to say the least. They sell roosters, pigeons, fish, turtles, you name it, on the street. I almost (OK, not really) bought a chameleon – whose eyes move independently of each other – for 70 euro on the street, just to say I bought a chameleon in Barcelona. Don’t think it would have gotten through customs, though, so I refrained. La Rambla is hoppin’ during the day (you’ll see the reason for italics later). So much commotion, people dressed as statues looking for money every 12 feet. They even had an American bar (the food sucked, especially compared to the seafood and paella the city had to offer) where we could watch some March Madness (quick shoutout to myself for making the money in our Framingham pool for probably the fourth time out of the last six years.)

Also located on La Rambla was the coolest food market I’ve ever seen. It had everything from fresh-squeezed kiwi juice, to full, hanging (dead) pigs, to live octopi being hosed down to stay fresh. I went twice and was mesmerized both times.

Max and I partook in an anti-capitalist movement at the top of the city square. Yeah, we were basically Communists for all of 25 minutes. These Spanish workers were banging drums, screaming into megaphones, chanting, burning fake euro in front of the Bank of Spain. Apparently they too aren’t happy with the current global financial situation.

Saturday night is when things got a bit crazy. A bunch of Madison folk went to this club called Elephant (as in “font,” not “phint”). Shawna and her friends were also in town and I wanted to meet up with them. So I took a cab (you take cabs everywhere in Barcelona; it’s just too big. Not friendly on the ole’ wallet) to the club they were at. By the time I got there – let’s say 4:30 a.m., they were leaving the club (I did meet up with them the next day for some Gaudi-architectural sightseeing). I was staying at my friend Julie’s (another Badger) apartment, so I called her and tried to tell the cab driver in Spanish (very little English in Barcelona) where to go. To make a medium-sized story short, two cab rides later (yeah, my Spanish is that good), I found myself walking down La Rambla toward Brady’s friend’s apartment because it was the only place I recognized. Only thing was, no one was answering their phones. This presented somewhat of a problem.

Anyone who knows anything about Barcelona knows that walking down La Rambla by one’s self at night (well, early morning) is basically walking into a gauntlet of "illegal" (at least by U.S. standards) activity. As I strolled the street, I was bombarded by beer sellers, drug dealers and prostitutes. That happens sometimes in Prague, too, when they smell the American on you, but not to this magnitude. All I wanted was a bed – by myself, mind you – but all the hotels were full (who would have thought at six in the morning?). Finally I found a hostel for 17 euro, slept on the bottom bunk, woke up at noon and re-found my friends. If only the excitement stopped there.

Monday, Max, Tyler and I hopped on a plane to Rome. Tyler met Kelly there so Max and I were on our own. We stayed in a nice bed and breakfast in town. We immediately went out for Italian food and let me tell you, the stigma is for real: the food in Italy is amazing. All week I had nothing but feasts, from spaghetti to pizza, lasagna to ravioli, in one word: awesome.

Anyway, we sat next to this nice, middle-aged Irish couple. Two hours later, we were exchanging emails, phone numbers and addresses, which I subsequently lost the next evening (story coming soon). We talked about politics, school, economics, history, you name it. Great people. Funny thing was, we had almost the exact same conversation with a similarly-aged Danish couple the next night at dinner. Both couples were excited about the Obama Era, for the record.

Although this semester has begun to change this, as mentioned in a previous post: historically, I have not been one enthralled by history (not involving some sort of ball), art or architecture. Rome, however, blew me away. Max and I saw the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps that first night. The Trevi Fountain is one of the coolest manmade structures I’ve seen. The Steps were nothing to write home about, so I phoned home (ET style) from the top instead (true story).

Tuesday we got up early to go to the Vatican. The Sistine Chapel left me in a daze and the tombs of all of the Popes were pretty cool, too. Next was the Coliseum. Not much to say about that; I think the pictures speak for themselves. I simply can’t fathom how the Ancient Romans were able to build that thing. It honestly makes no sense. You can see where the gladiators waited before their matches, as the sand floor obviously no longer exists. Wild.

Those were the two highlights of the day. We saw the Pantheon, the shrine of Emanuel II and the Forum. They were all amazing, but incomparable to those first two sights. Tyler and Kelly were headed back to Florence, but Max and I wanted to stay in Rome one more night with a bunch of kids from our program in Prague. That was a mistake.

It came up several times over the course of the week that I had had my black Calvin Klein wallet since 7^th grade. Now I’m convinced jinxing is for real. Ten of us went out together to explore the Roman night life. A couple bars later, my left pocket was wallet-less. I don’t know if I left it somewhere or it was stolen, but either way I had to cancel my debit card. Really put a damper on things in the middle of my trip. I contemplated going back to Prague that Friday. Good thing I didn’t.

After cancelling my card, Max and I took the train to Florence. He stayed with Tyler, Kelly and Co.; I stayed with Becky and her seven roommates. The Bus2Alps trip to the Amalfi Coast was full (we hadn't signed up yet), so I stayed with Becky (Elena came Thursday) for five nights. Living with multiple girls is interesting, but it was a nice change from Testosterone Templova.

I loved Florence. We went to the top of the Duomo, a huge cathedral in the city’s center, took a bus to this hill overlooking the entire city and even watched the UConn-Michigan State game at an Irish pub (Becky and a couple of her roommates are Huskies, so they were bummed). The gelato and pizza/pasta in Florence is unreal and those first four days were a blast, but they didn’t come close to the sights of Cinque Terre, our Sunday day trip and the culmination of my 11-day vacation.

“Cinque Terre” means “Five towns” in Italian. There are five tiny towns all on the rocky Mediterranean Coast. We took a train to the furthest town, planning to hike back to the nearest. Little did we know it was two-plus hours from No. 5 to No. 4. The hike was a bit challenging and steep (it didn’t help being in jeans; I didn’t know what to expect), but it was well worth it. It was me and six girls (which again, was a bit interesting) but we all had a blast. Some of the best views I’ve ever seen.

We took the train back to Florence and my spring break was all but over. We didn’t feel the deadly earthquake that struck northeast of Rome Sunday night, thank god. Monday was a day of trains, trams and planes, but finally we were back to trusty Templova.

What a vacation. On to Amsterdam tomorrow morning!

(I’m sure I left a lot out, but as usual, if I remember something important, I will add it later. Uncle Eric, the international people blog is coming soon, I promise.)

European irony

Europe is very environmentally friendly: Many lights are on timers, toilets have less water; Europeans take shorter, cooler showers. But for a union that is so conscious of such issues, apparently they haven't gotten the memo that cigarettes kill you.

Actually, that's entirely false. On every cigarette box in Europe, there is a label in huge font reading: CIGARETTES CAN KILL YOU. I guess Philip Morris doesn't allow that on the other side of the Atlantic.

But even with the label, which is probably 20 times the size of our "surgeon general's warning," Europeans -- especially in Spain -- chain smoke the shit out of cigarettes like they're searching for Wonka's golden ticket at each filter. I just don't understand it. That, and they all love McDonald's, but I've yet to see one obese person. We must be doing something wrong.

(I'm in the middle of my spring break post. It's taking a while.)

Obama actually brought 'change!'

President Obama was here in Prague over the weekend to address the rotating Presidency of the European Union (it's would be as if the capital of the U.S. moved from Washington to New York to L.A. every six months), which is here from January to June. I missed him, unfortunately, but he stood true to his campaign word; he certainly brought change.

I hardly even recognize this place. No clouds. High of 70 degrees. Bright sun. Outdoor seating for restaurants everywhere. Old Town Square looks like one big festival...

OK, I'm done procrastinating. I was just too mesmerized on my way to school this morning not to share it. Hopefully I'll be able to finish my spring break blog this afternoon. Again, no promises.

Spring Break post in the making

I'm currently sitting in a Florence library, crafting what will be the longest blog post yet: The tales of the past 11 days. I won't be able to finish it right now, and with two presentations and a paper due in the next 48 hours, I can't promise it will be done soon. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it tomorrow afternoon, but again, no promises.

Sorry for the delay, as I know you're all on the edges of your seats in anticipation. But I think this one will be worth the wait, especially because of the pictures.

Spring break update: Change of plans

Instead of going on the Bus2Alps trip to the Amalfi Coast, I'm staying in Florence with Becky and Elena. We have some good day trips planned, including one to Cinque Terre, which is a nice substitute for Sorrento and Capri.

Spring Break has been a blast thus far and is showing no signs of slowing down. The post-break post (confusing, I know) will include all of the escapades (and there have been many) with plenty of pictures from this 11-day adventure. No hints, until then; you'll just have to wait!

Finally, spring break

Thank god, I could use a break from all this stress. School, Ireland, France, Switzerland, Prague, it really wears you down mentally. Eh, not really, but it is spring break, so we're taking full advantage of the double-digit days off.

Tomorrow we fly to Barcelona for three days before Rome, Florence, Sorrento, Capri and whatever else we run into in Italy, including the blue grotto, one of the seven wonders of the world. As you can imagine, I'm pretty pumped.

We fly back Monday April 6, so don't expect any updates until then. And give me a day or two after that, as I'm sure there'll be a novel's worth to write about. Plus, I have a couple of presentations that week, so unfortunately those take priority over blogging. Trust me, if I had it my way, they wouldn't, either.

Subway wouldn't take my debit card

Think about that for a minute. I got a footlong (more than $5) and I had to go to the ATM around the corner to get cash to pay for it. What would Jared have to say about that?

Traveling tips for a good cause

If you're a frantic, last-minute traveler -- like myself, and pretty much every college student abroad -- I've found the perfect site for you: Hotelscombined.com

Chloe, a representative from Hotels Combined told me in an email that:

"Hotels Combined is a leading price comparison system used by over 25 million people every year. We aggregate and compare accommodation prices from all major sources such as Hotels.com, Travelocity.com, Priceline.com and many more. We are a free research tool helping users find the best priced accommodation option. If required, the reservation is made directly on the compared websites (Hotels.com, Travelocity.com, Priceline etc..)"

Just by mentioning its site on this blog, Hotels Combined is donating $20 to a charity of my choice, which will be the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Apparently my writing has paid (literally) off.

So if you're traveling in the near future, be sure to check out Hotelscombined.com!

Day trip to Pilsen

To be quite honest, my expectations for Pilsen were rather low; it’s a Czech city about an hour northwest of Prague, but I felt obligated to go. Good thing.

Tyler and I (and the rest of the group of about 20, no one else from my apartment) had to get up at 8:00. The highlight of the trip was supposed to be the Pilsner beer factory and quite frankly, we had just seen the biggest beer factory in the world nine days prior, so we weren’t all that enthused.

Well, sometimes it’s better not to expect greatness, which ended up being the case yesterday. As Tyler put it midway through the day: “This shits on the Guinness Factory.” The girls cringed at the expression, but he was right, the Pilsner tour put the Irish version to shame because the Guinness Factory was a self-guided tour through what was essentially a museum of the Irish stout. Pilsner was a guided tour of the actual factory, where we got to see bottles being manufactured and saw videos of how the pride of Pilsen was created.

The trip was paid for by CEA (originally paid by us, but still) and we got a “free” 3-course meal at the factory as well. Then the historical part of the trip began.

I’ve never been much of a history buff, but yesterday afternoon was pretty cool. We went to the Big Synagogue of Pilsen (apparently they didn’t feel like being creative during the naming process; or it doesn’t translate properly). It’s the second-biggest synagogue in all of Europe (the biggest is in Budapest, Hungary). It was taken over by the Nazis in WWII, but was liberated by the American troops at the end of the war. There’s a big memorial in the center of town saying, “Thank you America!” which is located at the top of America Street. The synagogue survived not only WWII, but the Cold War as well, as it was then part of Czechoslovakia and the Soviet Union. Pretty humbling to be in a building with such historical importance.

Before we left Pilsen, we climbed 301 steep, narrow, winding stairs to the top of a cathedral in the middle of town. The lookout tower was 102 meters high and had a great view of the city and landscape surrounding it. Good closure for very fun, enlightening, worthwhile day trip. And I sacrificed some March Madness viewing to go, with no regrets. Who would’ve thought?

Switzerland sights

Paddy's weekend winners

Chamonix shots

Prague pics (LONG overdue)

Random notes from Prague

Don't really feel like writing coherent paragraphs, so...

The girls from Top Secret Cafe (where I'm currently sitting) said they missed me, since I haven't been here in a month because our Internet actually started working in Templova, which I explained to them. It's nice to be missed.

Nick left this morning. We had a blast with the Framingham girls in Prague, who left yesterday morning. I'd say they enjoyed themselves. It's exhausting playing tour guide.

Haven't been to the grocery store before Dublin. That, along with a plummeting exchange rate (now less than 20 crowns per dollar), isn't helping the checkbook. Thank god we're not on the Euro. Great decision.

Had my first exam Thursday in Econ 320 (Economic and Business Policies of the EU). Not too bad. Not exactly a Madison-difficulty test.

Nick wasn't a big fan of Czech food. But then again, he has a tough time finishing a bagel and cream cheese, so he isn't exactly an impartial judge.

Before Thursday, I knew of one bar that played ESPN America on a regular basis. Now that the NCAA Tournament started (which airs on that station here), you can find it in several bars. Apparently they know the deal.

Cleveland States really screwed up my bracket last night. But I had UConn (who lost to San Diego in the first round a year ago) in the Final Four last year and I still won my pool. So all hope is not lost.

I have a couple of exams and a presentation this coming week, so it should be mellow before spring break a week from now.

Next trip on tap (literally): Pilsen, Czech Republic tomorrow, where they brew Pilsner beer. I wonder how it compares to the Guinness factory. It's a free trip through CEA, so a bunch of us are going.

Next international trip: Spring break, starting Friday: Barcalona, Rome, Florence, trip along the Amalfi Coast.

I know, tough life I'm living out here. I'm not taking it for granted, though. That's got to count for something. Until next time...

Madison, Framingham invade Dublin

The myth is true: Guinness actually does flow through the streets of Dublin. You can get on your knees and slurp it up along the riverbeds.

Not really, but the Guinness in Dublin tastes much better than the Guinness in the States because they know how to take care of it properly. It honestly tastes more like a milkshake than a beer. And it’s everywhere; again, no myth.

The weekend went entirely as planned. There were close to 20 of us staying at Flannagan’s house (my friend from Madison, for those of you who don’t know). Yeah, it was a bit crowded, but well-worth the trip. Kids came from their cities abroad, plus Madison (spring break) to stay at Casa de Flano – which was a lovely house, just not built for 20 college kids; but we made do, with very minimal damage.

Thursday Tyler, Max and I got there and met the five that arrived early. We checked into Hotel Flanster, then went straight to the local pub to relive Flano’s childhood. Seven rounds of Guinness made for some interesting conversations that night. Welcome to Dublin.

Friday the rest of the Delta Upsilon crew came from Chicago, upping to total to about 20. Nick Kynoch flew in from Boston and after a genius Facebook wall post by me, a few emails from Mom and a Skype convo with his dad, I found Nick just blocks from Flano’s, no cell phone usage needed. Honestly, it was a miracle.

A group of us then went on a bus tour of the city, highlighted by a tour of the Guinness factory, which I’m told is the biggest brewery in the world. It was pretty cool. The Gravity Bar on the 7^th floor had a sweet, 360-degree view of the city and the surrounding mountains. Not much to see around the outskirts of Dublin, to tell you the truth, but it was cool, nonetheless.

(Not-so-quick aside: Dublin is on the east coast of Ireland and although it is rarely sunny and warm – although we had an unexpected amount of sunshine during our stay – it does have a beach-town feel to it. Believe it or not, there are a fair amount of palm trees and Nick kept saying it had a Nantucket feel to it, which I agreed.

Very quick aside: Little kids speaking in Irish accents are hilarious. British kids, too.)

Friday night we went to the Temple Bar area and went to a bar where they were playing traditional Irish songs. It was dripping with Americans wanting to celebrate Paddy’s Day – many of whom I knew – but there were plenty of real Dubliners there, too. Probably one of the most fun nights in recent (though sometimes foggy) memory.

Saturday, Ireland played Scotland in the Six Nations Cup, made up of those two, plus England, France, Wales and Italy. So we went back to Kiely’s Pub to watch the Irish beat the Scots in comeback fashion. They’re now 4-0, pending next week’s match against Wales, who is 3-1. Because of goal differential, Ireland has the Cup all but locked up but a perfect 5-0 tournament (they call it a Grand Slam) is a big deal, so of course this weekend will be interesting. Plenty of Guinnesses (Guinni, perhaps?) during the 5:30 match quickly transitioned into another eventful night in town. Nick ended up trying to put his license and his student ID in the ATM machine. Enough said.

Sunday, it was Framingham’s turn to invade Dublin. Nick and I met Tessa, Missy, Erica and Bridget – who were visiting Sam – at their nearby hotel. It was still Paddy’s Day weekend and they were chomping at the bit, so we took them into town as if we knew where the hell we were going. But we managed to do all right, grab some fish and chips, some more Guinness mixed with a handful of Jamison and gingers (had to keep it local). Another fun night in town; still plenty of people festively celebrating Patrick’s sainthood. Yesterday (Monday) we flew back to Prague, where the girls will meet us tomorrow.

Not exactly a trip filled with cultural, sightseeing experiences, but I wasn’t expecting that, given the situation. It was St. Patrick’s Day weekend in Dublin, Ireland. Honestly, what were you expecting? I think Barcelona and Italy in two weekends will be more of the touristy variety.

[More pictures coming (relatively) soon (hopefully). People blog, requested by Uncle Eric, coming later, too; plus probably some more random notes, as usual.]

Crazy Czech climate

Upon my arrival in Madison 2 1/2 years ago, all I heard about was the "wacky Wisconsin weather," mostly from my new Oconomowoc friends. Well, let me tell you: it doesn't compare to here.

Yesterday I woke up to a sunny day, walked home from class with dark clouds overhead, watched a 2-minute hailstorm from my apartment and went out in the rain.

Today seems to be following a similar pattern: woke up to sun, then cloudy, then hail, brief sun, now dark, ominous clouds at 2:30. I'm waiting for this afternoon's tornado.

Yellow light innovations

In the States, you wait at a red light, then suddenly, out of nowhere it turns green and you go. If you're not paying attention, you might miss the switch. Then it turns yellow, so you can anticipate the next red.

In Europe, the yellow light is used both from green to red and from red to green. So when you're sitting at a red light, you can prepare for the upcoming green. It makes so much sense.

Weekend in Chamonix

Skiing isn’t like basketball, football or soccer; it’s completely dependent on one thing: weather. Mediocre mountains become spectacular with a foot of fresh snow and the best resorts in the world become pedestrian if Mother Nature isn’t cooperating. New England skiers are all too familiar with this concept, as annual January thaws cripple the Northeast ski industry. Sometimes it’s rain or sleet, wind or ice. Other times the visibility is simply too poor to make confident turns. That’s what happened for the first two days of Drew’s and my (I never know how to properly say that) three-day trip to Chamonix, France. Then came Saturday. We’ll get there.

Wednesday I left class a bit early to make my 4:30 flight (a bit more conventional than driving to the Alps, like last week) to Geneva, Switzerland. I took the metro then the bus to the airport. It took about an hour and a half to get from Templova to Praha-Ruzne International Airport. For once in my life (as many of you know), my flights were actually on time. Unfortunately, this was the one time that I could have afforded to be significantly late, because Drew’s plane from Barcelona landed four hours after mine. It was fine, though. I had a nice Swiss meal, practiced some French and watched “Step Brothers” on my laptop in the meantime. I’m used to waiting in airports.

(Quick aside: I took French for seven years, and this weekend was the first time it was actually useful. Honestly, it was really rewarding. Now I can imagine what taking Spanish in say, Framingham is like.

Also, note to Switzerland: Ditch the whole eastside, German thing. French is much more pleasant to be around. Needless to say, Geneva is much more tolerable language-wise than Interlaken.)

Drew landed just after 10:00; we met our driver and by just after midnight, we checked into Mercure Chamonix les Bossons Hotel. (Perhaps I’m just unlucky in the States? Maybe it’s not about luck.) It was raining during the entire drive, which meant snow in the mountains and us, in turn, chomping at the bit.

Our hotel wasn’t exactly in Chamonix Centre. We had to walk about 10 minutes to the nearest bus stop which took us there. Easy enough. We quickly rented skis, boots and poles for only 30 euros a day. Great deal, considering we got top-of-the-line skis. It was snowing pretty steadily so we were psyched. We hopped on the bus to Les Grands Montets (Chamonix is the name of the village – which is very Aspen-like; there’s no peak named Chamonix). We soon realized what we were getting ourselves into. These mountains were extremely steep and wooded for about the first 1,000 meters, which for the most part, is unskiable. Then you hit the tree line. And above tree line + snowstorm = complete whiteout. At times, you could only see two chairs in front of you. We wanted to challenge ourselves and find some fun (I refuse to use “gnarley”) lines, but it was simply impossible. Trails are staked only with bamboo in the Alps; they rarely rope things off. So had we ventured outside the stakes, we theoretically could have found an 80-foot cliff – which would have been the case in Interlaken. We later found out that that wasn’t true at Chamonix, but at the time, we obviously couldn’t take any life-threatening chances.

We found a couple trails where we used trees for depth perception. The snow was great, about 8 fresh inches; you just couldn’t tell the difference between up and down, left and right. It was frustrating and exhausting. Thursday night we were asleep before 10:00. Dinnerless.

Day 2 was much of the same. We tried Le Tour instead of Les Grands Montets, but the results were very similar. Again we were above the tree line in a whiteout. There were some periods of (very) brief sun (being in back-to-back whiteouts, and being in Prague, for that matter, will really make you appreciate that big, fiery star of ours), which was nice, but for the most part, we were picking our way through visual pea soup with fluff underneath. Again, a bit frustrating, but we found our spots in the trees, made some tracks and had a fun, productive day. The highlights of the day were the meals, ordering deux croque monsieurs for lunch and great pizzas and desserts in the village for dinner. The French certainly know how to eat. Our waiter talked to most Americans (or Brits, and there were many) in English, but respected my French enough to talk to me in le francais. I guess that’s what you get for seven long years. Again: exhausted, out cold. Then came Saturday.

Saturday was one of the top six (very arbitrary number) coolest days of my life. The sun was out and there was about a foot of fresh snow. We went back to Les Grand Montets and it looked like a completely different world, and it was an entirely different experience. We had no idea what the previous whiteouts were hiding. The views were incredible and the skiing options were unlimited. It was like Vail’s back bowls times four. So much vertical and more vast than either of us could have imagined. The Alps really do put the Rockies to shame if (and that’s a big “if”) you get favorable weather and snow. Neither is close to a guarantee, but if you get both, like we did, you’re in for a treat. Saturday made are weekend and probably made my semester.

Somehow our 6:00 shuttle to Geneva was a half hour late, so when we strolled into the hotel at 6:35, it was still there waiting for us. Actually, the driver was trying to call me, but my phone was shut off inside. So we hopped in the shuttle, ski clothes still on, and went to Geneva Airport’s Holiday Inn. Drew had a 7:00 a.m. flight to Barcelona; I had a 10:00 flight to Zurich, then a 12:45 to Prague.

So my Alps adventure comes to an end. Six ski days in nine total days. Not bad. But the traveling is far from over. Off to Dublin on Thursday for a Framingham/Madison/DU reunion. Should be eventful.

Until then, enjoy the pictures.