In regards to social discrepancy and the return of The Prodigal Son...

Spring Break Part II: Please read the previous post as it's easy to miss that I updated earlier today.

Alright, so this week was fun. Adam, my best friend from Austin, came across the pond to the little island for a visit. However there were some complications.

First a foremost, make sure you charge your phone before taking a transatlantic flight. All I knew about his trip is that his plane got to London a little after nine and that he would be catching the train to Leicester (about a 1 hour ride) at noon. So I moseyed up to the train station getting there around 1:30 to find, surprise surprise, no Adam. On top of that his phone was going straight to voicemail meaning that a) it was dead, b) he couldn't get service in another country, c) he was in a bad situation. Assuming it was option a or b, I waited..... and waited and waited. I waited till the cows came home, which is about about 3:30 in lay terms, before submitting to hunger pains and hitting up the local Dixie Chicken. By the way, these little boutique chicken joints are a godsend. They're cheap, filling, and remind me of something you can only find on Riverside. I love it.

Anywho back to the story. On my way back to the train station I ran into Flipper upon his return from a weekend away meaning I was lucky enough to have a companion loitering at the train station with me. However this didn't last long as my patience ebbed and I returned to my room to start playing detective. First I tried calling Adam's dad, but because Skype calls show up on caller ID as the most random assortment of numbers (and maybe letters?) that anyone has ever seen, he didn't answer. So I finally succumbed to calling his ex-girlfriend to get his parent's number. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't really worried at this point but I was quickly moving down the path of mother hen. So when I got ahold of his step-dad Mick, I may have flagged some worrisome parental nodes in the poor guy when I said "Adam is 5 hours late and I can't get ahold of him". I've never heard someone's demeanor go from cheerful (and Mick is an extraordinarily cheerful guy) to borderline panicked in such a short time. It's was like when pregnant ladies have those vicious mood swings that sitcoms love to showcase. Anyways he took down my cell number and I proceeded to go through my disaster checklist. First up was to check cnn.com for plane crashes. Second was to see if his plane arrived on time. Third was to call customs and see if he was being detained. Fourth was to get ahold of the train company (this proved impossible on Sunday). Luckily amidst the flurry of phone calls and webpage loads (the latter was more a sloth-like flurry considering how slow the internet is at my dorm) Mick got a hold of me saying Adam had just arrived at the train station. So although it was a bit worrisome, everything ended up just fine. However I did lose five hours of my life I'll never get back, and for that I blame you and your inability to use a pay phone Adam, fear my wrath. Luckily (for his sake) he came bearing peanut butter cookies which quickly diverted my fury focusing it on the consumption of cookies.

The first leg of SB2007 (I wonder how many peopled got that tattooed at South Padre or Cancun) took us to London on Wednesday early afternoon. We had a bit of trouble finding our hostile which appeared to be in a bootleg ghetto (yes this is possible, a weak ghetto) where young kids were screaming at us from the balconies of their counsel house balconies. Our group compromised of us two from Texas and six girls from Buffalo, two of who go to Leicester with me. In all honesty, I'm surprised no one was mugged. At one point in our trip we saw a domestic dispute at a chicken joint (HFC this time) which ended in some guy throwing a cup of Sprite at his lady friend and her attacking him then running out of the building with him in full pursuit. This felt like the part of London that Cops (tm) would make their living if they brought the show to England. Despite the constant fear of danger and worry about STD's from the hooker infested streets (err that sounds wrong, it was a dirty area that's all I mean) we got through the two days safely. My one regret about London day 1 (there is a day 2!) is that Adam didn't get a chance to go inside Westminster Abbey or The British Museum which I think have effects that no where in America can.

So the second leg of our journey took the prodigal son (that would be me) back to Paris for the second time in exactly six years. This trip was a little different than my previous travels, the first noticeable difference was the hostile we stayed in with our six companions. When I say that this hostile had a gangsta-lean, I literally mean it was leaning. Walking up to our fifth floor room proved to be quite a hassle not because there were so many steps, but because the steps leaned and sunk in odd ways bucking our awkward movements up and down the stairwell. On top of that, there was no desk person on duty for... well at all. The cleaning lady let us into our rooms, and we never really found anyone to properly check in. I'm still not sure whether we paid for our rooms or not, this place was thuggish ruggish to say the least. Another thing I didn't recall about Paris is how pricey this joint is. Adam broke down and paid 6.50 Euroes (about $9) for a glass of coke at one restaurant and the average tab for the 8 of us was about 70 Euros. This doesn't seem that bad until you realize that for the most part only Adam and I ate. The girls somehow convinced themselves that saving money by not eating was a good idea, I'm still not sure whether or not they realize that this behavior is a certifiable eating disorder (shopaholics we call them). We did manage to have a good time but the fun was taxing. I spent most of the time on the verge of sleep with sore feet. Adam and I only managed to hang at the Louvre (btw it's free for students after 6 on Weds/Fridays) for a little under two hours which is horrible by my standards. I mean this place has some of the most important art collections and easily the most famous individual work (Mona Lisa) in the world. Somewhere in the mix, we were able to visit Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, Champ Elysees, Arc de Triumph, and walk 45 minutes downriver in the wrong direction (my bad). One thing I found personally satisfying is the confidence I have as a traveler in unfamiliar cities. At one point Adam asked me if I was worried about being in a country where I didn't speak the language and the answer was a hearty no. This is a huge upside to going abroad and one of the few things that Austin and The University of Texas can't offer. I remember being in NYC last summer and being hesitant to use the subway by myself, now I'm all over the Metro, Ubahn, Tube or whatever other strange names different cities call their subways. It's a great feeling and an attitude that very few people have naturally, for most, like me, it only grows through experience.

Alright so I just realized how long and bulky the last paragraph was getting so I'm randomly starting a new one, deal with it. I was getting into the realm of horrid editing technique that only Peter Jackson (The director not sports analyst) is currently a member of from his Illiad and the Odysee length Lord of the Rings films. So back to the story, by the time we got to day 3 the two of us were so worn out (him from jetlag/travel and me from just being a wuss) that we spent three hours at an internet cafe playing video games with French people and perusing the internet. Somehow playing counterstrike against French guys became one of the highlights of our trip, I don't know how either but it was memorable. We finally got to the train station, couldn't find the girls, and boarded last minute without knowing where they were or if they had figured out the confusing process of getting on the Chunnel. With this particular eve being St. Patrick's Day we decided to hit up a pub called The Three Stags for some Guinness where the nice bar tender lady hooked us up some uber-dorky leprechaun hats for free. I'm pretty sure Adam is still wearing his.

Anyways, Adam and I woke up at 6:30 the next morning to get him back to the US and me on my way back to Leicester. Along the way my train broke, yes you read it right it broke, and I was forced to switch trains. With my keen eye for rule breaking I used this opportunity to upgrade myself to First Class on the new train, deal with it Mainline. Despite the posh treatment and cushy seats, I still didn't rest up enough to avoid to consequent sickness that came from travel, lack of sleep, and staying in the scariest hostel ever. When I got home yesterday I went down hard. You know what I'm talking about, I might as well have had Howard Cozel screaming "Down goes Thorburn! Down goes Thorburn!" to a live televised broadcast. I ended up staying in bed from about one yesterday afternoon till eight this morning. Somehow I mustered the strength to get up and write this, but I'm still in my PJs and my nose is running down my face at record pace.

So that's about it. It's been a long two weeks filled with ups and downs, travels, visits, good food and bad food, getting lost in London, getting sick in Leicester, babysitting, reading, and generally being worn out. But it's been a good two weeks and I've enjoyed myself.

And now for some random things I've learned or noticed:

• I haven't seen Phil in over two weeks, apparently he's broken his record for longest time away from Uni and is up to nineteen, yes folks that's right NINETEEN, consecutive days without being here. Hopefully I can get ahold of him and hit up Edinburgh during my epic length Spring Break which goes from March 28th-May 3rd. I'm pretty sure Peter Jackson is editing the dates for that break.

• Alastair and Charlie are definitely a couple. They nitpick, argue, fight, wrestle, tickle (weird huh?), and practically live together. Of course when I say they're a couple I mean it in a totally manly-man way.
• Another funny thing I've noticed is that these two wrestle as if they were brothers. Not a day goes by without Charlie trying to tackle Alastair, however Ali always wins. His monopoly over their fights might change soon as his girlfriend recently divulged Ali's weakness, nipple twisters.

• Also I just realized that Alastaire's email is frodo_huddy@hotmail com. I don't know what this means, but I'm intrigued.
• Flipper is coming to America to live with me and Adam, it doesn't matter what he says about our country this guy is our new little brother.
• Adam smells funny.
• French guys have the best accent to mimic ever. It's so simple and can easily be used to confuse other American tourists and beggars.
• Spanish women are smokin hot.
• Spanish women are smokin too many cigarettes. Not hot.
  
• Being sick is really not fun, especially if your mother or girlfriend isn't around to dote on your every need.
• Scotch and tea is not a good remedy for a sore throat.
  
• Cold weather + sickness makes me really lazy, walking to ASDA (Wal-Mart) is such an annoyance to me that I've been two days now without minutes on my pay-as-you-go cell phone or cheese.
• It is freaking cold here. When you couple sickness with weather that Texas doesn't get on sunny days like this, you start to notice just how different the climate really is.
• I must be the only person who prefers rain to sun. Maybe it's due to my painfully pale skin, but I'm going to attribute it to the serenity of a shower.
• I need to figure out how to import Strongbow to the US. I'm for real, this drink is a serious cash cow. Every American I've talked to here loves the stuff and whoever gets the rights to distribute it in the US is on their way to millions.
  
• There is nothing that draws in attention like drunk American girls. Holy cow I was so busy defending their loudness, yelling at them about their loudness, apologizing to French and English people for their loudness, and arguing with the crass French dude about whether or not it was my job to police the girls actions or not (I say it's not).
  

Alright so that's part two. It's an epic post, but I had a lot to say and I'm sure the study abroad people are happy that I didn't actually disappear and stop blogging anyways.

Love peace chicken grease,

Chris