While I'm Abroad

Thoughts on the touring of England and Wales

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Wed, 04 Feb 2015 03:23:00 +0000

Let me start on the 4th. God Bless America. Beau and I had planned a little get together for that night at our flat. We hosted a good group of people, sang the national anthem, and generally had a good time. I would wager that everyone who was there enjoyed themselves.

If you have been reading any of my other blog posts than you are familiar with my luck traveling. Keeping to tradition I overslept and was 40 minutes late to the bus, but they hadn't left yet so it was not a major problem. I was running off little sleep in an American flag shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. We set off to our first destination: Harlow.

Harlow is a place close to my heart. This summer I worked for the Harlow MP or congressman basically so I was kind of familiar with the area. We arrived at our spot with a splattering of rain accompanying us and began to hand out leaflets. I wandered to first the sound of a guitar and as I neared I heard the beautiful sounds of Wagon Wheel. Of course I sang with him and then talked. His name was Stefan and he was playing a guitar he had bought for 25 pounds and had a pretty good range of songs. I wouldn't sign him for a record deal but he sounded good for a street performer. Next I heard Native American music and went towards that. I saw a guy dressed in full Native American dress and waited till he finished to ask if he was from the states. He wasn't. The phony. We then packed up everything and headed to Ipswich.

Ipswich
We arrived early here so I got to walk around and explore for a bit. There was a moment where I was walking down the street, looking as American as physically possible, heading in one direction and everyone else seemed to be going the other and I felt like an American in a foreign land. This lasted until I saw a guy playing the guitar but he had a banjo leaned up next to him so I threw him a pound and asked him to play something America sounding. He broke out Oh Suzanna at first and then the beginning of the deliverance theme. There was also a band of guys playing a couple different instruments who were really cool. Besides street musicians the people there were friendly and I had some good conversations with the green grocers and stall workers in the market.

Next we moved to Peterborough, a small town with a beautiful cathedral and nice open square. We took a picture quickly and then sat down outside a restaurant for dinner. I ordered a "gigantic" pizza which was maybe half the size of a pizza if get back home. But more importantly than the lack of quality pizza portions is that this place had a really small town vibe. The sun was setting and there were a lot of people out walking or biking around. It was a great little town and I would love to visit again.

After finishing there we went to our hotel which was located on the side of some highway basically. I was exhausted by this point and basically just passed out. The next morning I got a good full English breakfast and felt much better.

Our first stop on Sunday was Leicester which is pronounced Lester. We arrived here pretty early and I got to walk around for a bit. It didn't have the small town vibe like Peterborough but it was a cool place. My two favorite parts about European cities are rivers running through towns and having the stone or brick streets which only people walk down. It has that very old time feeling and makes you remember how old some of these places are. I found a church which was having some kind of festival, they had a climbing wall and a couple stands of various goods. I soon had to go back to the group to work and we finished it up without too much trouble.

Next was Nottingham, the fabled home of Robin Hood. I had actually been there before, as Beau and I had gone on a political trip up there. We were in the main square and the coolest part of this city was the street musicians. There weren't that many but I got to listen to live music while I worked which is the best.

After Nottingham we went to Sheffield which we didn't really see the actual city. We went to one of the head politicians headquarters and took a few pictures. You know, real "cheeky" political move.

Then it was off too Doncaster where we say down for a pint and watched some Wimbledon before going to another politicians headquarters and taking another picture. We didn't see much if the actual town here either but driving by it appeared to be a nice place.

On the drives from place to place it's interesting to see how people use their time. Sometimes we sleep, sometimes everyone's stems to their own music, and sometimes I convince the group to play a good country music playlist and I can feel like it's summer for a bit.

Last night we stayed in a pretty nice hotel, at least nicer than the first place we stayed at. We grabbed a huge dinner and then went out for a walk before realizing that where we were in Scunthorpe, England maybe was not the best place to be taking an evening stroll.

Next morning we drove to Hull. It was a really nice drive, there was a big bridge over a decent sized river. We aren't talking Mississippi but definitely not bad. We did not do much there, had some breakfast and then set up the stand to take a few pictures before setting off to York.

York was a very cool town. It had a large castle and cathedral. A very medieval looking place. I was exhausted and the work was a bit difficult the highlight was definitely meeting a family from Huntsville, Alabama who were vacationing in the UK. The father and sons were wearing Alabama caps so I got a enthusiastic roll tide from them.

After we went to Yarm, which my esteemed colleague told me was an inconsequential town which he had never heard of before the trip.

Soccer

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Tue, 01 Jul 2014 13:22:00 +0000

I like soccer. Wait, let me clarify…I like to play soccer. Or for the few people not American (if any) reading this: football. I remember playing goalie when I was young, in my head I was not that good but I remember getting a bloody lip one time and hurting another kid so I have good memories.

I remember sitting in a bar in Aix-en-Provence with Cory and a soccer match was on, within seconds we were both playing some game on our phone. That’s a good metaphor for my interest in soccer. But the world cup is different. Maybe it is that I am older, maybe it is that I am in London, or maybe Americans have just decided to care about the World Cup this year but I love it. I have stayed up to watch games, made promises in exchange for a win, been heartbroken by Portugal and disappointed by Germany.

Last week for the Germany game I went to a bar near parliament and ordered a drink to watch the game. There was another guy at the bar who was watching so I asked if he was American. He was. I asked what he was doing here and not at Sports and Social (the greatest bar in the world located inside Parliament)? He said he did not know how to get there. I told him if he got me in, I would show him how to get there and he agreed so we set off together.

When we arrived it was every American intern in Parliament gathered in the bar trying to watch the game. Most were in suits, I was in this gorgeous wrangler blue shirt with the stars and stripes on the shoulders and cowboy boots. Needless to say, I was ready to make some friends. People feel pretty comfortable talking to a guy in cowboy boots and an American flag. As with most groups of Americans abroad, most of them came from the northeast although one was from Georgia.

But we were all there really for one reason, we did not expect to meet other Americans, we were there to watch our team play or to be honest we were all there to watch our team win. I cannot say when I go home I am ever going to watch soccer at a less than world cup level, in fact I will tell you now I won’t. But this time has been fun to watch, and I hope we can beat Belgium today to stay in.

In summation #IBelieve

Beau and Jesse Do Dublin

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 30 Jun 2014 14:16:00 +0000

Going on trips in Europe, I have a much better appreciation for great writers. People who have seen amazing things and then can put them down onto paper…or computer screen, well enough for others to feel like they were there. Like Homer tackling The Odyssey or Shakespeare and Romeo and Juliet, or O.J. “The Juice” Simpsons If I Did It, I will try to express the incredible journey of Beau and Jesse in Dublin, Ireland.

A few weeks prior to our trip we were trying to book plane tickets, there was a little trouble as Ryan Air is the worst and a lot of online purchases in Europe do not appreciate American cards, but Beau figured it out and bought his ticket. I was unable to purchase my ticket at the same time but the next morning I woke up and got my tickets for the trip. Our first crisis was averted and we both had out tickets.

Now for those unfamiliar with the process of travelling via Ryan Ayer, the Taco Bell of airline services, you must check in online and print a ticket starting two days before your flight until a half hour before. Beau was unable to print his ticket so we headed to the airport, I having been in nearly the exact same place before was pretty confident we were not both going to be able to get onto the plane. But with all the optimism in the world we arrived, got on the wifi, and Beau pulled up a ticket on his phone which the lady assured us would work. We ran to the gate where you have to swipe your ticket over a scanner to enter, except we couldn’t enter. Beau was using his return ticket so we ran back to the Ryan Air desk.

By some miracle this lady decided she would do anything to help young Beau and walked him to a separate desk figured out what needed to be done, and then put him in front of forty people so that he could get a copy of his ticket printed off. This happened and we had -2 minutes to the flight departure so we started our run. We had to throw away most of the personal hygiene items as they were to large to pass security and a woman joked with me she knew I would cause problems as soon as she saw my cowboy boots. Of course I paused to tell her she hadn’t seen anything yet, before throwing on my boots and beginning my ~~walk~~ ~~jog~~ sprint to the terminal. Apparently Beau had gotten more held up because when I looked behind me all I saw were the crowds cheering me on to my terminal but no Beau. ..maybe I am remembering that incorrectly but none of you were there so that’s what happened.

I arrived at the terminal to see that the flight had been delayed and a queue (which we call a line) had formed. I was ecstatic and waited for Beau who soon followed sprinting around the airport to our terminal. We began joking and soon started conversation with some Canadian parents and their adult daughter who were doing some travelling around the UK before going to a wedding. We joked with them about American superiority/stupidity and the best places we visited, before boarding the plane.

I slept for a bit on the plane before Beau called me up, he had an extra seat next to him and told me I should take it, so I did. He was surrounded by a Hen party (Bachelorette party) and they were in a great mood and laughed and joked with us for the remainder of the trip until we touched down in Dublin, Ireland…

Stepping onto Irish soil is a magical experience, or it was for us. We had taken two steps out of the airport when a guy came over and grabbed us. He and his friends were taking shots and he wanted to introduce us to his friends, a group of really “sober” individuals, one of whom had definitely not taken off his shirt. They were one the same bus as us and we all piled into the back of the bus. We began our trip singing the traditional Irish song “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers before breaking off into every song they could think of regardless of knowledge of tune or lyrics. Finally the stumbled upon a beautiful song which starts with a rhyme of a persons name, then you say a phrase which I am sure my parents would not approve of writing down before ending with “on (insert friends name)”. When the persons name was sung there was a fifteen second pause as everyone through punches and mocked the individual, but then it was time for the individual to respond with another friends name. This game was fun, albeit possibly out of hand, and the bus had to stop multiple times in order to tell these gentleman to calm down.

When we reached our spot we parted ways to go and search for our hostel. We stood on a street corner and asked a guy if he knew where our hostel was to which he responded “No mate, but here is my phone, just look it up”. Another quality example of Irish generosity. We were not too far away and began our walk to the hostel, easily making it there and checking in. Then we decided to go out. We started at first just going from place to place, Dublin has pretty expensive drinks and we were looking for the cheapest place we could find. Out of desperation we asked this guy where the cheapest drinks were in Dublin and he told us he and his friends were going there and pushed us into a taxi.

The taxi let us out at a casino and all the guys were going on so we followed. I did not bet anything but offered my advice. After a short time we left the casino and went into a bar called Dicey’s. In the front Diceys is a small bar with pretty good music, it looked like it opened up in the back but we did not go back there at first. As the night wore on we decided to go and take a look to discover an open patio/dance floor full of people.

Kind of like this except less 1920's and more drunk Irish people

We spent a long time here before deciding to find a way home. We made it to the hostel without any more trouble and fell asleep. The next morning we went to the Guinness Storehouse which is the original home of Guinness and learned about the process and the history of Ireland’s second proudest export (the first being alcoholism I imagine). It was great to see and we talked to a lot of the workers who were friendly people (shock. Everyone in Ireland is cool. That’s science, prove me wrong). We then went to go take a nap, then went to a store to by food supplies. We made ourselves a wonderful breakfast and then began to try to find something to do tonight.

One of our roommates at the hostel was a young French girl named Adeli, I don’t know how to actually spell her name. She was friendly, although shy, and we encouraged her to go out with us. We once again went from bar to bar dancing, joking, and having an all around good time before going back to the hostel. There tragedy struck, and through some bizarre circumstances Beau’s spot in the hostel was no longer available. I went to go grab my stuff so that we could seek other means of sleeping but when I exited the hostel he was not there. I went to the park that was next door where there were two girls eating chips and they offered me some, so I sat down and started eating with them. After a while I figured I should just go to sleep so I went back to my room and passed out.

When I awoke I realized that I had lost Beau. He was probably dead. That’s what happens when Americans get lost in Europe right? I took up post outside the hostel door and sent him a message on Facebook that I was at the hostel and he should come meet me. I sat there for about two hours before he messaged me to tell me that he was safe and on his way.

Apparently he had been on the street corner when a guy came by and offered his couch for Beau to sleep on for the night, which Beau accepted. The guy made him breakfast in the morning and now I think they are Facebook friends, anyway Ireland is awesome is the moral of the story.

We next walked around trying to find the cheapest Irish breakfast but found nothing which we liked so we asked a guy who directed us to a Chinese place. We didn't want Chinese so we settled on Doner/Kebabs instead. While eating we decided Beau should get a tattoo. Ireland deserved it. And we began our walk to find an open parlor.

We met Chinese food guy who invited us into the bar for a drink. It was 11:30, but it was also Ireland so of course we agreed. Turns out twenty-four years ago he came to Ireland for a long weekend, got arrested, and had been there ever since. Awesome guy. Really hospital, gave us his number and told us to call him if we ever came back, especially for St. Patty's day.

We got Beau his tattoo after a ton of effort and then made it to his plane without too much trouble. Only to find that we had booked our flights to two different airports in London. We split up and there were a ton of Americans on my flight so I talked with them. When I landed, I jumped on the train to bring me to London but when I arrived I realized the Tube (underground) was closed and I needed to take a bus. Long story short: Wrong bus, walked around, hired a taxi, taxi guy gave me a discount because I did not have any money. At 3 in the morning I arrived home.

This story is incredible, Dublin is probably my favorite place I have ever been, sorry Warsaw and Prague.

Same Continent, Different Country

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 09 Jun 2014 10:36:00 +0000

It has been a little over a year and I have found myself back in Europe. This time a bit north of France in London, England. I am interning here for two political think tanks and an MP or Minister of Parliament who is the equivalent of a congressman basically. After reading some of my past blog posts from France, I realize how different I have approached London as compared to my time in Marseille and Aix-en-Provence.

My rationale for this is either 1) I'm older now and so more mature, or 2) because I am working everyday it does not look the same as when I was a student. But lets establish some differences first:

Aix-En-Provence London
Weather: Sunny, Windy, Perfect Rainy, Cloudy, Windy
Accents: Different language but manageable, Same language possibly,
a lot spoke decent English accents make it unintelligible
Lifestyle: Bread, Wine, Cheese Beer and Gin
History: Not sure, something with art Long and impressive
Culture: European Capital of Culture Home of every industry and market in UK
Price: Expensive but doable How can anyone afford to live here?
Sights: Countryside, cathedral, the sea Big Ben, Parliament, Harry Potter stuff, Queen, London
Politics: Met my first communist In my group of friends...very right wing

London is a very cool city, maybe a little big for me but cool nonetheless. Really my only complaint is the weather but I guess I am spoiled coming from Birmingham, Alabama and Charleston, South Carolina.

My work has been great so far. I started off with The Freedom Association and am now working for Rob Halfon inside Parliament.

I would be lying if I said it was not cool to walk into this building everyday.

Also they have a bar named Sports and Social, which, at least for my housemate and I, is the British equivalent to "Cheers". We go in there and we can almost always find someone we know.

I tell people that England is different than I expected but I cannot exactly explain to them what is different. I will think about this question more and may provide an answer before I leave but for now I will leave you in suspense as well.

My Greatest Obstacle

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 09 Jun 2014 10:08:00 +0000

If I can get past one little sub-conscious barrier than I could be a true Francophile or whatever you call those Americans who are so infatuated with France. This barrier, as probably obvious from that last statement, is that I do not know why people enjoy this country. Well I do not understand the great love that a lot of people have for France.

If I was super interested in art or fashion or something along those lines then maybe I could understand because France is all about that stuff. I on the other hand do not care about any of those things, and it creates a rift which makes it hard to understand this country.

The United States has this amazing sense of pride in our history, we are a country of people who will fight for what we believe in and help those in need. The American dream is all about working hard to accomplish your goals. At least in the south people are friendly and will go out of their way to help you out even if you are a complete stranger. Those kind of things I can understand and believe in but France does not seem to celebrate any of those ideals.

It is also hard for me to try to embrace French culture when I see other bashing something about America. In a meeting at The Citadel they told us that we did not have to defend the U.S. in every situation but I catch myself doing that a lot. So for everyone who is annoyed with my over patriotism you can rest easy knowing that I am working on it. And if all goes well I will be walking around with my baguette, beret, and cigarrette.

Me vs The Locked Door

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 09 Jun 2014 10:05:00 +0000

You know that saying "when life closes a door, it opens a window"? Not my experience exactly...

At nights, I often try to go out to find people my age at the local watering hole and discuss political and social problems. I find it complements my education nicely to get some first hand experience out in the "real world". Well on this particular night I had gone to the International or American bar with some of my fellow classmates. This was my first time out in France and I was excited to see what opportunities the night had in store for me.

We arrived at the bar and went down into the basement. For some reasons every building has a basement similar to a torture chamber or bomb shelter with low roofs and loud music. There was a pretty good crowd and as my and my compatriots settled down a girl approached us. She spoke in excellent English and when she found out I was from the great state of Alabama she said, "Oh Sweet Home Alabama, Where the skies are so blue". Needless to say, she had me from "sweet". We talked with her and her friend for a while before moving on to the next room where we met a guy by the name of Tony who plays for the local American football team. He gave me a "Roll Tide" and I figured this night could not get any better, and boy was I right.

I left shortly after that, and as my friend Cory and his housemate walked home we were laughing and having a good time ending with a beautiful rendition of Old Crow Medicine Show's "Wagon Wheel". I was really feeling good walking up to my house, I had mingled, not gotten beaten up, and was even respectful of the ridiculous government the French call their own. I approached my door and inserted the key to unlock the door when tragedy struck...

As I tried to open the door I could tell it was still locked, embarrassed but undeterred I tried the other two locks (yes they have three locks on their door and no it doesn't make any sense) and confidently opened the door only to find it still locked. That shock of reality hit but was completely replaced by the confidence afforded a 20 year old American and so I tried again, and again, and again. That confidence slowly began to fade as I began to examine my options. I realized my housemate had his room right above the door and I could throw rocks at his window and wake him to ask/beg for help. So call me Romeo I threw rocks but to no avail. At this point I am starting to get worried but I realize what must be done, years of climbing trees and rocks in my back yard had prepared me to scale the fence and climb onto the porch connected to my housemates room. With one foot on a giant potted plant, the other on the fence, and my head in the sky I pushed off to remedy my situation, only to feel the potted plant tip over and me with it.

Now I am cursing myself for being an idiot and breaking what is probably a priceless heirloom which had been brought over by their ancestors from Atlantis or Mount Olympus a thousand years ago and I could only stand and think as I had no idea how I was going to get in this house. At that moment the light went on over my head...literally my housemates light came on and I could barely contain my excitement as I whispered/screamed for him to come outside and let me in which he did unhesitatingly.

If this were the end of the story I would have been contempt but it came up the next night. My house-mom, house-dad, the random other guy that lives in the house, and two grand-daughters began to mock me for not knowing how to open unlock a door. I have been humiliated many times in many ways but nothing stung as much as a 8 year old girl laughing at me for not being able to open a door. So to the guy who came up with the "door/window" theory sorry but I am calling BS on that one.

The Most Unbelievable Trip

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 12:16:00 +0000

Warning: This post will be long and probably unbelievable

For winter break I decided to travel with 5 of my friends from school to visit Prague and Vienna. The details of the first part of our trip will have to be saved for another post for what I want to focus is on the incredible experience I have had in Vienna (Wien), Austria.

The plan was to leave Prague on Tuesday morning and take a bus which we had already payed for to Vienna. The trip would take a couple hours and we had already booked our hostel. Everything started smoothly, we were up and easily checked out of the hostel from which we were staying and there was a bus driver who offered to give us a ride for a very cheap price which we all agreed to and got to the bus station in plenty of time. We got our tickets and sat down, chatting and laughing, looking forward to our adventure in Vienna. When the bus arrived we walked out, put our bags in the bus and tried to check in but they were checking passports and I, as will be discussed in a later post, did not have my passport. I tried to tell the others to go on without me but they refused and we watched as the bus left.

At this point I felt pretty terrible, I had been able to fly into the Czech Republic from France without a passport but I could not ride a bus from Czech to Austria. One of the members of our group suggested we look into trains so we began the walk to the train station. And bought tickets on the promise that a passport was not necessary and then went to a Starbucks to wait till the train would leave. We got on the train and left without a problem and began our adventure.

About three quarters of the way through our trip I had the idea of creating a story, each person contributing to it with a couple of sentences. This progressed as you might think with six different people taking the plot in six different directions. It culminated with a double agent named Seamus O'Malley, four German U-boats, and James Bond rescuing a ship carrying people from England to America. The details of this story are bizarre and long but suffice it to say it was a hilarious moment for our group as we worked our way through the stories. When we arrived in Vienna we easily took the metro to the desired stop and walked to our hostel without incident. When we walked into the hostel there was the owner/manager sitting at his desk and the chirps of a bird coming from his office off to the side. We checked in and walked up to our room when turned out to be the hostel equivalent of a palace. It had a kitchen, water closet (toilet), bathroom, living room with bunk beds, separate bed room, and walk in closet. We were all pretty excited but also hungry as we hadn't eaten since breakfast so we decided to head out to find some dinner, which is when this story gets weird.

Right outside of the hostel we stopped to read the map and try to figure out where our desired restaurant was when a large man walked up in a rubber apron and greeted us asking if he could help us with anything. Cory asked if he knew where a restaurant was called Inge and Gary's. He pulled up his apron, looked at his crotch and said, "Last time I checked, I was Gary. Come on right this way." We all looked around in stunned silence at the ridiculousness of the situation before us but followed obediently. His restaurant was literally right around the corner. No more than a thirty second walk but he fit around twenty minutes of conversation into that time, telling us he was from San Francisco, California and was a "niners" fan and talking professional and college football with us. He gave us all some type of beer and then we ordered traditional Viennese food. The entire time this guy was just talking our ear off, literally we could not get a word in edge wise. When we had finished he personally walked us over to a travelers bar across the street telling us that he was allowed to stay around because he was to old and drank to much and scared away the clientele. Now it is important to picture him as saying all of these things as a joke, but with the definite possibility that it all was actually accurate.

We did not stay at the bar for very long as we were all tired, so we headed back to the hostel and fell asleep pretty quickly. The next morning we were excited about exploring Vienna and our hostel had a special worked out with Inge and Gary so we headed over there again. This time he was not there but we ate our breakfast and headed out on our journey. We walked in a couple of shops and then we stumbled across this ice rink. But not the atypical circular ice rink, because this is Vienna and nothing we did was normal. This course had a circular part, then a system of ice trails leading to another rink. We skated for an hour or two having a great time. We talked to some of the local kids in broken German/English/French and possibly were recorded by some Austrian television station.

After that we explored the city some more and then a man approached us in an overcoat and offering us tickets to a classical music performance for the next night. All of us wanted to do something like that so we agreed and bought the tickets. We also asked for directions to a good restaurant and headed over there. IT was an interesting place with a funny waiter and we all ordered food. I was not that hungry and did not want to spend the money so I did not order anything, although I dug into the bread that was in the center of the table. I ate basically all of the bread minus half of a roll. When it was time to pay we divided up what we had each eaten when we learned that the bread was not free. I payed for the bread, grabbed my half a roll, and marched out of the restaurant in a foul mood and headed for the hostel. When we arrived in the hostel one of the guys in our group was craving some of the delicious Apple Strudel we had the night before at Gary's so some of us made the journey over to get some. Once there we were treated to the hospitality that only Gary can give and a fascinating lecture about Gary's beliefs on the origin of man. The garden of Eden was actually a large peachtree dish that the aliens used to test out different genetic codes. The Greek and Roman myths about Cyclops and heroes with incredible strength were just the aliens slightly messing up the genetic code. The aliens then left and all of our religions are the natural evolution of our remembering of them. Eventually, about thirty minutes after we could/wanted to leave we made it out of his restaurant and laughingly went back home.

The next morning we slept in and decided we would go to Gary's for a early lunch/late breakfast. Inge was there and we had a great time talking with her, learning about the Summer palace which we had to see in order to really have been to Vienna. After we left her we went to the Summer Palace which was truly amazing. The history of Vienna and the great minds that it has produced is incredible and after we toured the palace we walked into the gardens behind it. After a while the group split up and Cory and I went to the exit to the palace thinking the rational and logical place to look would be the one place that everyone has to eventually go. We waited there for an hour and a half before walking back to the gardens and finding the rest of our group. We then went home and prepared as we were going to a classical concert that night.

The concert was not exactly what we were expecting but it was a good experience. The Maestro was a violinist who was absolutely stunning. (Fun fact: the woman in this country are overall really attractive) We then made our way back home, tired from the performance and all the walking around. We were trying to decide on dinner when we all agreed the only thing to do was to go back to Gary. One girl in our group decided that she did not want to eat but would go along with us. As we walked in we went to the same table we sat at every time we ate there, in the same spots, except that spot the girl sat at did not have silverware. At this point we realized that Gary was psychic. So began the craziest dinner I have ever had. We talked about aliens, inappropriate jokes, and anything else they could think of. One of the guys in our group asked where he could buy a beer mug for his father and Gary, being typical Gary, told him to take the one he was drinking from, then he pulled out a clean one and told him to take the clean one or both. He extended the offer to all of us and most of us took one. We then wrote them a note, hugged Inge and shook hands with Gary and tried to leave. But that of course was going to happen so we were there a good thirty minutes more before we escaped. In total we were probably in the restaurant for 2 hours that night and no telling the total amount we spent in there. They were the nicest couple and there is so much more I could say about them but I do not have the time and can not explain in detail deserving of such a character.

Adventuring

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Sun, 17 Feb 2013 15:07:00 +0000

Yesterday I set out with Cory, my trusted Citadel brother, and our new friend Lauren to explore this mountain Cory had walked around a couple days before. With the nicest weather that we have had so far in Aix Cory and I started off to meet up with Lauren, who had gotten lost. On our way to find her we found this little paradise which I can only think is used for bizarre rituals and viral videos.

Possibly the coolest place in Aix

After we found her and we began our adventures by buying supplies consisting of cookies and sandwiches. After that we started our walk and were soon passed by some high schoolers in matching shorts and shirts with high and tights. Cory and I were laughing because it looked eerily similar to the old Citadel. As we began our walk up the mountain, with our backs to the city the landscape changed and we found ourselves in the parking area which looked like a state park. And began hiking around the area when we came across one of the coolest views I have seen so far in this country...

The French version of America

We took our share of pictures and then began to head down to the dam to do a little more exploring and find the sunlight as it was getting a bit cold. We found this little haven where it looks like people have camped out

Possibly where the French soldiers escaped too during WWII

When we made it to the dam there were more of the military cadets or whatever the French call them and Cory and I went up to start a conversation. They were training the freshman and were all trying to get into the French version of West Point. Take away their over motivated high and tights and they were pretty cool guys, but they had freshman to haze and we had an adventure to continue so we parted ways and my trio began the march back home. While walking we ran into some more of the highly disciplined military students.

Pictured: Failure

So if you are like me the first thing that sticks out in this picture is suspenders over on the right. Yea we asked him about that, if you fail to get into French West Point they give you a pair of suspenders as a consolation prize to try to get you to try again. Second the guy on the left is walking around with a giant chain. Is it a fashion statement? Is French hazing a lot harder than any of us would have guessed? Is there a branch of the French military that loves chains? These are all good questions and unfortunately I do not have an answer for you. That guy is a mystery, as well as where the black guys blouse is.

French Wellness Tips

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Sat, 09 Feb 2013 05:20:00 +0000

I have never had a week go downhill as quickly and sharply as this week has. Tuesday night as a group of friends and I were walking around we found a bar with live musicians playing Lynrd Skynrd, needless to say I will be returning to that place it was like an oasis in a sea of house and electronic music. Not that I have anything against it, I just do not think there is any intermediate way to dance to that stuff for guys, you either are a ridiculous dancer and everyone watches you or you stand in the corner and try to convince people you are just too cool to dance. I do not really know about the latter, never really been good at playing off the nonchalant type so I normally end up looking like an idiot jumping around.

The next morning I awoke to find that I had a little cough, it had been a very cold night and we were out late so I figured I might catch a little cold or something but by the next morning I had a terrible cough, nose was completely stopped and felt genuinely terrible. Luckily for me my super study abroad family was not going to let me suffer without trying to help. They gave me some pills which I learned tonight are for pain and fever, and nasal spray which I do not think was one of the bigger issues but they thought it was important. Lastly they pulled out a shot glass and poured some honey in it with a bit of water and heated it up. They then tried to tell me using words and hand motions I should gargle and swallow and it would help my throat. I was in a pretty good amount of pain so I figured it could not hurt and when the microwave went off I tipped my head back and threw that down. That would have been all if it had not been the temperature of molten lava, and the lady was blocking the sink so I could not spit it out instead I swizzled and then swallowed. We then repeated with a cooler temperature and I went off to school. About mid way to school I realized that my tongue was burnt. I have not tasted a thing since Thursday morning, plus there are two blisters on the top of my mouth. All that to say I am a little hesitant to trust these French people with my health and instead chose the only remedy which I use which is sleep. I sleep all day, then stay up all night trying to sleep for the past three days. Friday I left my room two times in 36 hours.

Best I could find for how I feel. This is Leo playing Howard Hughes

The good news is though that I think I have finally gotten past the worst of it, all I have left now is just a residual cough which is not that big of a deal. I hope tomorrow I can get out and check out all the sights and stuff and have a relaxing day but we will see.

Super Bowl Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 17:20:00 +0000

I am not a professional football fan. I go for the St. Louis Rams but do not really follow them, none the less I was excited about being able to watch the Super Bowl. I met up with Cory and his housemate Ryan at 11:30 P.M. and headed to the American bar to watch the game. I was not expecting the place to be packed but it was and I was looking forward to some mutual appreciation for American culture and football. I did not catch the beginning of the game as I was halfway on a staircase and could not see the TV but an American student from California who knew nothing about football gave me a little play by play. The most important thing that happened though was at the beginning of the game when Alicia Keys or whoever it was sang the national anthem. The actual Americans were at the back of the bar and as the song began to play we sang along with everything we had. Now we got some jokes and another girl from California commented about stereotypical Americans but when you love something it does not matter what others think of you and I can honestly say my patriotism was flowing as I watched the beginning of that game.

Weekend At Albert's Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 17:12:00 +0000

After I made it on the bus it was a pretty easy drive over to Nice, which is a lovely waterfront town in the south of France. We had a great time walking around the beaches which feature smooth pebbles of varying size instead of sand. Cory and I walked into the water only to realize when a wave comes in it hurls these rocks right at your shins. When it is warm I hope to go back there and check it out to see if it is enjoyable deeper out. The city is preparing for Mardi Gras or some festival and you could see stands being set up in anticipation of a parade.

After Nice we met back on the bus and drove to our hostel and changed into our nicer clothes to go to the casino in Monaco. I had the good fortune of having a mother who insisted I bring a suit so I was prepared and only had to pick up a tie that week in preparation. The casino in Monaco is called the Monte Carlo and is very famous and as I walked up to it I felt that rush of opportunity as I was surrounded by nice cars and well dressed people. I lost 30 euros at blackjack pretty quick and then began to walk around when I saw a large crowd of people. I walked over towards them to realize that there was an Opera about to begin so I tried to look confident and walked in. Not knowing where to sit I stood in the back until two other girls from my group walked in and I grabbed them and sat in the first open seat I saw. Unfortunately the guy who had the seats showed up and I had to leave but it was still exciting to be that close.

After the casinos the hostel offered a DJ and said we could dance in the dining hall which some students, including Cory and I, took up. We had a great time dancing or more jumping around the dance floor for probably an hour and then we all went back to our rooms to sleep up for the next day.

The next morning we grabbed our food and loaded on the buses to go to a town once occupied by pirates and see a perfume/soap factory. I was not looking forward to it and the tour was pretty boring until I learned that people who have the gift of smell can apply to go to a nose college for 7 years and graduate being able to identify over 3000 scents. That seemed ridiculous to me but I quizzed the lady on it for a bit and then the tour was over so it was pretty easy.

This post I feel like was pretty boring but it was a great weekend and an awesome opportunity.

Weekend At Albert's Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 19:57:00 +0000

If you get a little over 100 college age kids and tell them they have a mandatory field trip they must attend the reactions vary from excitement to anger. Some feel as though its a free opportunity to see the world while others think of it as wasting a weekend.

It started on Saturday at 7 in the morning. I woke up and got dressed, ready, and ate my breakfast and had everything packed up and ready to go as I began the 30 minute walk to the center of town to meet up with all the students. I arrived slightly early and was talking with a group of students when someone said that you needed a passport. I did not have my passport. I left it in my room back at the house and so I turned and a girl said you better run. Now I was wearing cowboy boots so I most certainly not running in those so I changed into my Chuck Taylors or Converse All Stars.

Except Chuck Taylors

Feeling a lot like Benny"The Jet" Rodriguez I took off down the main street of Aix-en-Provence. I was truly flying down these streets and feeling good passing a few students running a bit late I figured I could make it their in good time. Running to the house must have been a mile and a half at least and I kept up a pretty good pace the entire time the highlight being one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen at the bus stop. I mention her because 1) she provided some motivation to keep going and 2) she was really attractive. I reach my house, run inside, grab my passport, and head for the door. I was in and out and on my way out of there and a cramp hit me. Now I had a knob year and have done a few spirit runs around campus to know how to fight through a cramp or two but it did make the run that less enjoyable. But as I passed the local high school I saw a girl run up to her friend who was eagerly handing out an ear-bud and as I passed I heard them sing the chorus to Lonestar's "I'm Already There".

If that was not a message than I do not know what is and with that renewed vigor I flew the next mile to the main street. I am running late I know and as I turn to make that final straight away scenes from movies are flashing through my mind encouraging me to finish strong.

And I finish and see the bus and I run around to the front door only to be yelled at by some elderly lady in charge in broken French/English accent which I could not understand. Little did she know I have been taken on guilt trips by the master and yelled at by much more intimidating people so that did not phase me at all. She stopped yelling at me and moved to the side and as I climbed those stairs, triumphant and a bit wobbly from the 3 mile fun run I was greeted by applause and high fives. The official time being 25 minutes nearly on the nose it was a pretty good run. The real kicker is a lot of people on the bus did not have their passports and never once was I asked to present it over the weekend.

The Decision

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 20:41:00 +0000

Thank you for all you time and effort to come to this blog and read it. I know most of you are wondering what my decision will be and I want to tell all of you that it has been a tough call but I think I have decided. It is not really that I am unhappy with where I am now but I think that great things await me with this coming change. In order for you to understand this decision let me give you a little history...

Once upon a Friday, much like today, two young American students were in the far away country of France and a sweet little southern town named Aix. They lived close to each other and often walked to school together as they were good friends. On this particular day, after their class at o dark thirty, henceforth referred to as 8:30, they went down to The Cave, or basement to hang out with some other American students.

These two fun loving kids try to bring joy wherever they go and this lovely place was no different. They joked and kidded with those around them but it was not until a student started playing music from his phone that the fun really began. One student started singing, and the only adjective worthy to describe this music was heavenly. He is undoubtedly the songbird of our generation, a combination of Fergie and Jesus, and dare I say it the next Neil Diamond. The other student, in this case me, quickly got the fever and as they belted out pop, rap, and country hits the basement turned from a communal space to a friend zone. The light was brighter and the air was cooler. Imagine Nirvana, except the speakers go to 11. After this amazing time there was a scavenger hunt and these two enterprising young individuals decided that they would win this competition. They created their team and weighed their options and when the gun went off they were double timing their way through the back alleys of Aix looking for movie theaters and fountains, book stores and statues. As they ran around scaring the local population they learned the city and did a fair amount of espionage against other teams.

Alas much like the dream team of the 2004 Olympics they were unsuccessful in their attempt to gain eternal fame in the halls of Aix but that adventure did lead me to my decision.

With all that said I now officially announce Cory Stratton and my candidacy for CBS's Amazing Race.

Starting Off On The Right Foot

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 09:15:00 +0000

Orientation was the day after I arrived in the country of France and with all the over confidence of an American I set off to try to find the school which I would be attending for the next four months. It is about a 25 minute walk which gives me plenty of time to make cultural mistakes like saying hello or smiling to strangers. But I arrived on time and ready to start this school year right. Besides, I thought to myself, if I can survive my "orientation" at The Citadel then I could definitely handle whatever these guys could do to me right? I have learned since then that one way we could make The Citadel more difficult is if we create our own language and have half the teachers speak in that language, a quarter in such a thick accent no one understands it, and then the last quarter in English. Needless to say I did not take a lot out of the introductions from the teacher but then the Dean of students arose to talk to us. He opened with that he was from Alabama which obviously I was excited about as you do not find many people from Alabama in positions of power outside the Sweet Home but even less when you are in France so I gave him a "Roll Tide!" as is customary in my homeland. To that he turned and said no he attended Auburn and was most definitely not a Crimson Tide fan. Now some of my thousands of readers are counting this guy off right now I am sure but he still gave some good information I guess. Honestly I do not really remember what was said overall but it was a good day overall.

Day 1

noreply@blogger.com (Roecker) — Sun, 27 Jan 2013 12:05:00 +0000

Bonjour from Aix-en-Provence, France. After a solid 25 hours of travel I made it to this lovely little city in the south of France. I guess the first thing to do is recount my trip to get here which started on Friday, January 25 at 6:30 in the morning which was about 2 hours earlier than I needed to be awake but I was excited. My sister drove me over to Atlanta with her friend from college and I got on that plane easily enough but it was the stop in Philly that got me. It was snowing there and we sat on the runway for probably close to two hours before taking off which means I missed my connection to Marseille and instead flew from London to Paris where I waited for 3 hours to get a flight to Marseille. When I arrived I met the family I am staying with and ate with them then went to sleep. Today me and the guy I am living with walked around Marseille for a while and this afternoon we are going to the school for some meeting.

To pass the time I have been listening to country music. Nothing really notable has happened so far but be sure I will keep you up to date on anything interesting that should happen.