Blog Info Update

I finally setup a way for you to view the pictures easily online. Go here: http://www.mandeltort.com/adam and the rest should be self-explanatory. Of course, I haven't posted blogs about most of the pictures because it takes so much longer to write about than it does to upload pictures. I unwittingly wittingly commented every picture because I felt like it. To some extent, you'll know where I am or what's going on from the pictures. Otherwise, the blog post will explain it when I get to it. So at least there will be faster updates on pictures if not blog posts.

Weekend #1 - The Rental Car, Driving, and the Hostel

Class ended at 11:15 AM. We packed and headed to lunch around 1:00 PM. The food at the Weir House is beginning to remind me more and more of Brittain dining Hall at GT, only in some instances worse. STA Travel told us the car rental place did not offer the option of pickup, so we called a taxi to pick us up around 2 PM. The STA Travel agent lady told us we had a staton wagon reserved. When we pulled up to the car rental place it turned out to be a Toyota Previa, which is a mini-van. The guy at the car rental place nearly double charged me because he didn't realize we had paid through STA travel. Once I gave him the voucher all was cleared up. We were told by the STA Travel agent you have to be 21 to rent a car and adding additional drivers costs extra. Since I was the only one out of us five that was 21 or older, I rented the car. (Actually, less than a quarter of the people on the trip are older than 20.) We didn't even bother asking the guy at the car rental place about adding more drivers. We grabbed some maps and loaded up the Previa. Since everything was under my name, I planned on driving this entire trip. As I got into the driver's seat, a chill went through my body as I realized, this is the first time I have ever rented a car and to add to the pressure, I have to drive on the opposite side of the road, all of the gadget locations in the car are on the opposite side, and I am in a mini-van! Yikes! That's a lot to think about in one swoop. Here's everyone loaded up, right before we begin this possibly perilous journey.

It takes me a minute to locate where I put the vehicle in drive. Of course, I instinctively look to my right, but the stick is on the left. Then I have to figure out how to get out of the rental lot. This part is too difficult to describe, but it will suffice to say the van was facing the opposite direction of the exit, and there were lots of other cars parked randomly around. I was hoping for an easy merge to get me warmed up on opposite driving, but the direction we had to go required me to turn right by crossing three lanes of traffic on one of the busiest highways in Wellington. Needless to say, we sat in the exitway for a bit of time, until I was quite positive I wouldn't hit someone. Some of the passenegers were egging me to go sooner. At last, we merged and were underway.

Throughout this weekend I would make many mistakes with respect to this new driving structure. My most common mistake would be to turn on the windshield wipers when I meant to put on a blinker. The blinker is to the right of the steering wheel and the wipers are to the left. However, I did on occasion, upon driving more on instinct than with careful thought take right and left turns onto the right side of the road. Immediately, someone in the van would yell drive on the left! I'd promptly realize my mistake and switch lanes. After making this error a couple of times at the beginning of the trip, whoever was in the front passenger seat would remind me right before every turn to stay in the left lane. I eventually got the hang of it.

The other major difference between the system of driving here and the system in America involves roundabouts and stop signs. There are no stop signs in New Zealand that I recall to date. All intersections have a roundabout. Before you enter the roundabout, you have to yield to oncoming traffic. Their yield signs look like ours in shape and color, but instead of saying yield, they say 'Give Way'. This sort of reminds me of the 'Way Out' sign at the airport rather than an 'Exit' sign.

The destination for this leg of the journey is Rotorua. It is about a six hour drive. Along the drive we see all sorts of amazing scenery. A beautiful coastline. Volcanoes in Tongariro National Park - which we actually hike in two weeks. Sheep, sometimes procreating. Rolling hills. Scenery that reminds me of Lord of the Rings.

We also witnessed a car flip over. The vehicle was two cars in front of us. The guy went around a curve, then all of a sudden went off the side of the road and flipped. Everyone in the van said to pull over. The car right in front of us also pulled over. The next five minutes was a bunch of chaos that is hard to describe in words. Evan runs up to the driver in the car in front of us and hurriedly asks what's the number for 911 in this country. The guy looks at him and says what!? I suppose Evan realized the problem with his question reframed it to ask the guy what is the emergency number in this country. The driver responded, "111, but I've already called." I stayed in the driver's seat of the van during this whole episode while everyone else in the van was inspecting the scene. Someone asked the upside down driver of the flipped car if he was ok. I am not sure what his response was, but in the next instant the driver was crawling out the window of his flipped car. As he got out, he yawned and said he forgot his shoes. He went back to his flipped car and grabbed his shoes and put them on. I was feeling uneasy about staying too long because I didn't want to have to fill out tons of paperwork when the cops arrived. When the guy seemed to be ok, minus his flipped car, we drove off. The whole scene didn't last more than five minutes. I proceeded to drive with a bit more caution around future curves with that scene in the back of my mind. Apparently, several other GT students passed us while we were there because when we all convened later that night, everyone was sharing their part of the story, with our part being the juciest having actually witnessed the flipping. People guessed he flipped because he fell asleep, was wasted, was high, or driving out of control. I think he fell asleep at the wrong moment.

We arrived at our hostel, Base Backpackers - http://www.basebackpackers.com/rotorua.htm, in Rotorua around 9:30 PM. Apparently, we were the first of our group to arrive. We called a number on the reception door since the reception closed at 8 PM. The lady on the phone gave us a code to a combination lock containing all of the keys. The longer I am in New Zealand, the more I realize how trusting Kiwi's are. The box with our keys in it, actully had keys in envelopes for dozens of people. Anyone could have easily taken someone's key. We took our keys and proceeded to look for the bedrooms. Up a ramp there was a bar, and all of the places near the reception were gift shops. With a bit of trouble, we located the entrance to the hostel behind these locked doors one ramp up past the bar, but we didn't know the code to get in through the doors. There was no place for a key. On the keychain of our room keys there were two sets of numbers. Someone correctly guessed that one of those numbers might be the code to get in through the door. Finally, we got to our room, noisily entered with great relief of having reached our destination, and turned on the ceiling light. Only as we entered, we saw an Asian lady sleeping in one of the beds, which prompted the ceiling light to be quickly turned off. It was only 10 PM! As quietly as possible, everyone plopped down their stuff and settled in. Everyone else from our group was starting to arrive and of course people met up at the bar which was conveniently located right outside of the locked doors to the hostel. There were only about ten other people at the bar outside of our group of 25. Everyone recounted their journey to Rotorua, with the flipped car being the most interesting.

We also came to learn that STA Travel didn't send in a reservation for one of the cars in our group. When they arrived, they checked the box for their keys and couldn't find any with their names on it. They called the number to find out the deal, and the lady said there was no record of their reservation. The hostel was completely filled Thursday night with no spare beds. Since our group had several rooms, the students without a reservation took some spare mattresses in a closet and put them on the ground in some of the rooms. Fortunately, they all received normal beds at the hostel the other nights. Nevertheless, they were quite irked by this whole inconvenience of driving six hours only to discover you have no bed.

One last note before I close on the adventures of the day. When we drove up to the hostel, we could only find metered parking and a spot right in front of the hostel that had 15 minute parking. Upon walking around the streets near the hostel, we asked some ladies outside of a cafe about the parking situation. They told us there was free parking a few blocks away, but that you don't want to leave your car there overnight. Since the meters were only operational from 9 AM - 5 PM, the van had to be moved the next morning and then subsequently, moved back at night, until the weekend when the meters weren't operatonal at all. Of course, I had the dubious honors of constantly moving the vehicle. Rotorua is a fairly small town. I don't understand why they don't have free parking in front of the hostel. Anyway, I dealt with it, so did the other 4 cars in our group.

Other than darts, pool, and drinking, that closes out Thursday night of my first weekend in New Zealand.

Notable Observances

New Zealanders refer to themselves as Kiwi's. This is not derogatory. On the first day there, when we were all gathered in the dining hall, the manager of the Weir House, talks about how Kiwi's do this and Kiwi's do that. So not only do they call themselves Kiwi's, but they are not offended when others call them Kiwi's either. For instance, at STA Travel they have a brochure called the guide to the land of Kiwi's. As I understand it, both the kiwi fruit and the kiwi bird are where this slang is derived from. Kiwi birds are not easily spotted, but are very unique and the kiwi fruit is a major fruit grown here.

New Zealanders apparently don't like the American equivalent of pennies. A coin representing one cent is not available in the local currency. The lowest denomination is the same as the nickel. To get around cases where the total cost is some amount that is not divisible by five cents they round. As seen here, the cost was rounded down by a cent. I like this idea a lot and wish the US would implement a similar system. However, their currency system also uses one and two dollar coins. This is a facet of the currency I don't like. On my desk, I have $20 in change with only a dozen or so coins. It's just too easy to drop a $2 coin. Since I haven't noted it yet, the conversion rate is about 70% (ranges from 65% - 75%). $50 US yielded me $60 NZ at the LAX currency exchange. At a currency exchange in Wellington, $50 US yielded me $70 NZ. So roughly, $100 NZ is only $70 US.

The toilets at the Weir House, as well as several other restrooms I have checked out, don't flush in a circular fashion. The water just shoots straight in, so I haven't been able to observe toilets 'flush backwards' yet. I plan to keep looking though.

There is no ozone layer above New Zealand so you have to wear sunscreen all the time and everytime you go outside. The stores don't even sell a sunscreen with less than SPF 30. I haven't tempted fate yet to see if I can survive without suntan lotion, but I am guessing probably not. I haven't gotten burned yet, but I am getting quite tired of putting on suntan lotion all over my body every day. Plus, it gives you this ick sort of feeling like you just got back from the beach and need to shower, only you aren't going to the beach, you are just going on a ten minute walk to class. Here is a shot of my ugly foot with a tan. :)

Week One Recap

Classes began. I have a lecture from 8 - 9:30 AM and from 9:45 - 11:15 AM. My second lecture was supposed to be from 11:30 AM - 1:00 PM, but we only hve ten students in our class. This allowed the location of the class to be moved to a conference room at the Weir House instead of in one of the classrooms. Now everyone gets finished with class at the same time. This also allowed lunch to be moved up from 1:00 PM to 12:30 PM. I'll comment more on class stuff in a later entry.

Nearly all 43 students are bar hopping every night of the week. The Big K, Bodega's, and Irish bars are popular. Jeff met a Kiwi named Claire. Apparently, they agreed to meet up the next day at noon right after classes at the school library. Shockingly, both of them showed up. She invited him to a house party Friday night, but we had already paid for our trip to Rotorua. Getting a trip planned for the weekend proved to be much more difficult than I anticipated. On Sunday, I was asking people what they wanted to do for our first weekend. The only response I received was we'll decide later. I don't think people realize the short period of time between Sunday and when we should be departing Thursday afternoon for our weekend excursions. On Monday, about a dozen people come up with a trip to Able Tasman, a national park, which doesn't really interest me. I keep trying to get people interested in seeing Aucklnd and the Bay of Islands.

On Tuesday, I go by STA Travel at the Union on campus with the intent of finding out details of how an Auckland trip might work. When I walk in, there's a huge group suddenly booking a trip to Rotorua. Amongst everyone, there is a desire to travel with a medium size group, more than ten people. The three other guys I am closest with on the trip (Jeff, Kaniel, and Evan), and I decide to follow along on this Rotorua trip. For one reason or another, it is not possible to get the 7 - 10 passenger vans, so everyone is renting cars and sticking about 5 people in them. Everything is quite chaotic and going extremely fast. The four of us book a trip that includes a rental car with 5 people (the 5th person being a girl on the trip named Alice), 3 nights in a hostel in Rotorua, a sledging/rafting trip, and a caving trip.

In booking the trip, I told the travel agent to book us on whatever the other group is doing. We rented a car from the same company and our accomodations are at the same place. The rafting company the other group went with did not offer sledging and about 4 of us wanted to go sledging. I asked the travel agent who we could book sledging with and she didn't know. So I gave her the website of a company I found about when I went to purchase my backpack at REI in Atlanta. I asked an employee there for a recommendation on a backpack and it turned out the employee was from New Zealand, had been there his entire life, and had only been in the states about 6 months. He was engaged to a Georgian. He told me about all of this stuff I had to do while in New Zealand, one of which just happened to be sledging with this company. The travel agent called and suddenly there were 4 of us sledging and 2 of us rafting at 3 PM on Friday. The company for the caving trip we booked was the same company the other group used. I returned on Wednesday to pick up the vouchers for everything and just hope it all works out. Thursday the trip begins.

Wellington Sightseeing

On Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, many of the students went sight seeing around Wellington to take pictures. We also had a tour of the campus on Sunday led by one of the RA's at the Weir House. Here's a suspended thing I took a pic of on the tour. Jeff and I in front of one of the academic buildings. An interesting piece of architecture downtown. A view of the bay. Some of the students I am sight seeing with. The girls decided they would sit on balls. A pretty view. Some murals near the bay. Most of them have something humorous depicted. We stumbled upon a volleyball tournament with a thousand or so spectators. They gave away free sour cream and onion veggie chips there which had a strange texture. Another shot of me and the bay.

Kaniel is blocking the fountain I wanted see in the shot. Evan's as tiny as my thumb! Woah - I'm getting dizzy! How did that ball get below my head? Mac's Bar and Brewery has become a fun hangout. For $10 NZ they give you a 6 drink beer sampler.

Arrival Day

The flight left Los Angeles, California at 8:00 PM on Thursday, January 5th. We flew for 13.5 hours and then transferred to another flight which took another two hours. We arrived in the capital of New Zealand at 8:15 AM on Saturday, January 7th. Considering a travel time of 16 hours, the missing 20 hours is due to the internationl dateline. When we arrived in Wellington, it was 2:15 PM on Friday, January 6th in Atlanta. For me, Friday, January 6th, was only 4 hours long.

Saturday proves to be a tough long day due to the little sleep on the plane coupled with the adrenaline of being in this part of the world and having to stay up so many hours straight. We arrive at the Weir House, which is on the campus of Victoria University. The Weir House is often where international students stay when they visit the country. I have my own private bedroom and everyone on the hall shares a community bath. There are two showers and two toilets for eleven people on my section of the hall. My room looks like this from the window.

When we arrive at the Weir House via bus from the airport, we gather in the dining hall. Keys for the bedroom doors and swipe cards for the exterior doors are given out. A number of people are starving and decide to immediately go for food in town since lunch isn't for 3.5 hours. I stay behind and unpack. When the lunch crew returns, only a short time later, they are yelling and excited about the tons of liquor and alcohol they bought. Everyone under 21 is going quite crazy. Many bottles of alcohol and cases of beer are placed in the community fridges (since we don't have fridges in our room).

I am writing this on Tuesday and I have already forgotten some of the stuff I did Saturday through Tuesday. In future entries, I'll break up the bits and pieces of interesting things.

Departure Day

Josh took me to the airport. It was bitter sweet to say goodbye. I planned on checking my day pack and carrying on my weekend pack. I was glad to see no line at the counter, although I would be cursing this fact in an hour. When I get to the counter, the lady asks me how much my carry on weighs. It turns out to be 11 kg, 4 kg too many. I had to transfer half of my stuff from the weekend pack to the day pack and put all of the stuff in the day pack in the weekend pack. It took me ten minutes to do this, while the lady just waited and stared at me. I then proceed to the security line which takes a half hour to go through. The worst part of this is the sun beating down through the sun roof in the room making the temperatures soar into the 90s in the room. Fortunately, nothing had to be searched. As I leave the security area, I immediately run into a group of GT peeps in line at the currency exchange station. I decide to exchange $50 US which reaps me $60 NZ. I follow the crew to the gate where about half of the group is already waiting, biding the time. Feeling a bit hungry, a turkey avocado sandwich sets me back ten bucks. I notice that many of the students have bags twice the size of the one I was forced to check, but they all end up being allowed to carry their bags on board. I got the bad end of the stick on that one. The Air New Zealand flight is supposed to leave at 7:15 PM from LAX. We actually liftoff at 8:00 PM. I'm seated in a window seat in the exit row which is the first row of seats in coach. The middle seat next to me is empty. At the last minute, two guys who are supposed to leave the next day, get permission to board our flight. One takes the aisle seat in my row and the other takes the aisle seat behind him. I'm feeling pretty good since I'm going to have an empty seat next to me on this 13.5 hour flight. Right before take off, a flight attendant tells the guy in the aisle seat behind me, he can sit with his friend in my row. So I get screwed, the unassigned middle seat is taken, and the dude behind me gets to enjoy the luxury of having an open middle seat. This flight only has three or four empty seats and there are 350 or so passengers on board.

I've travelled on several international flights, but I don't recall the topic of alcohol ever coming up. Apparently, alcohol is free on international flights as long as you don't request name brands. The students were quite pumped about this as many planned on using their newly found under-21 freedom right away. For me, I could care less, having been over 21 for several years now. The two guys next to me, who I am beginning to have a growing dislike for, did manage to broker some business class deal, where we were the only ones in coach who got to have a pre-flight glass of champagne. This would be the last positive thing they would contribute to my experience.

Dinner was chicken and mushrooms or lasagna. I figured lasagna is more difficult to mess up than chicken. It was at least edible. Then came an eight hour break where the lights were turned off. Fortunately, when we boarded the airplane, everyone had a blanket and pillow in their seat. I got up to go see how the students in the back of the plane were doing as well as to get my ipod. I got settled into my four square feet of airplane space, when I started to look for my pillow. I looked down and to my chagrin, the guy in the middle seat, who wasn't supposed to be sitting there, was using my pillow as a footrest, putting his feet all over it. He was wearing an eye mask and earplugs, so instead of disturbing him, I asked the flight attendant for another pillow. After some scrounging around she was able to find one. Ahhh yes, some shut eye at last. I awoke two hours later freezing cold. Someone mentioned later that they turn down the oxygen levels on the plane to make you sleep better. I don't know if this is true, but if they did, I wonder if it also makes you colder, because it became quite chilly. I reached down for my blanket, which I had left at my feet. It wasn't there. After getting out of my seat and looking around, I looked at the guy next to me in the middle seat. He had a blanket around his legs, and a blanket around this chest. Now this was getting ridiculous. I thought about confronting him, but instead, stuck my arms inside my shirt, and just froze as I slept. I slept another three or four hours, when light started to creep in through the window. It was breakfast time, we were about two hours from Christchurch, New Zealand. Breakfast was egg and tater tots. Not too bad. As I finished, the sun was rising on my side of the plane. It was quite gorgeous. Unfortunately, half of the plane agreed as the open space of the exit row soon became a haven for camera goers and a constant stream of passengers. At this point, reading and sleeping were not going to be possible.

Right before landing, I got a picture with the flight attendant, a native New Zealander, who helped me find a pillow. She was cute. Our itinerary had an hour and fifteen minute layover before our transfer flight left. We arrived 45 minutes late. In 30 minutes, 43 of us had to get our bags, clear customs, re-check our bags domestically, pass through security again, and board our plane. This seemed like a ripe time for chaos. Fortunately, I was in the first row of coach passengers let off the plane. As I was leaving the gate area, searching for baggage claim, I noticed signs saying "Way Out". This seemed to be an interesting way to describe the word 'Exit'. Sort of reminded me of a surfer's mentality. I would again have this thought later in New Zealand. Due to the rush though, no picture.

I follow the 'Way-Out' signs which lead me to customs and baggage claim. One of the real advantages of being in the front of the plane is realized right now. I get in line at customs behind only 10 or 15 people and there are another 300 who haven't yet gotten to this point. In less than ten minutes, I have cleared customs without much of a problem. Now, on to baggage claim...

I enter at conveyor belt one which only has a few bags on it. Conveyor belt two was loaded with bags. Thinking we just got off the plane, I illogically decide that my bags are most likely on conveyor belt two. As I am waiting for my bags, I see other students arriving at baggage claim and finding their bags right away on conveyor belt two. I wait longer. Then I start noticing that I have seen the same bag go by 5 or 6 times and I haven't seen my bags yet. Now I start wondering... I take a harder look over at conveyor belt one and see that there are actually some students picking up their bags over there. Huh? This leads me to believe the conveyor belts must be connected and the bags go all the way around, it just takes awhile. Finally, after 20 minutes of waiting for my bags, I decide to walk over to conveyor belt one. I don't see many students left in the baggage claim area. My transfer flight is supposed to be leaving in 5 minutes. Then I hear over the loudspeaker, "Passengers on Flight 19 (the flight I took), please check both conveyor belts 1 and 2 for your baggage. Ah hah! I see my bag at last. Will I make the flight though? I grab my stuff and rush through the last customs inspection point. As I am about to enter the line, a customs official calls me out and tells me to step aside. Oh no..... She proceeds to ask me all sorts of questions, like why I am here, what am I studying, who am I with... After this interrogation which lasts about 5 minutes, I finally clear customs. Fortunately, they didn't open my bags and rummage through my stuff which apparently happened to some students.

I leave the customs area and rush to recheck my bags at the domestic check-in. As I am walking up, the lady says leave your bags here and run to the flight. In a panic, I oblige without thought. The next security checkpoint only has one screening area. I wait in line behind 10 people. Fortunately, I clear this checkpoint without incident. My boarding pass says gate 19. At the fork for the different gates, I go right to get to gate 19. I run there as fast as I can given that I have a backpack and a laptop bag. I get to the gate and there is no plane. Even worse, there are no workers or passengers. A GT student spots me from a distance at the fork and yells that I have to go to gate 15. I rush back to the fork and take the left path to get to gate 15. Yessss!!!! They're still taking boarding passes for the flight. In fact, there are 5 people in line. When I get on board, I realize it's a small plane, only about 60 passengers. We have 43 of the seats booked. There are still about 10 students yet to board. They end up holding the flight until every student boards. The biology professor, also the director of the Pacific Study Abroad Program, does not board the plane though because his baggage is lost. Instead, the graduate TA takes the transfer flight with us. Only lasting 45 minutes, the flight is quite short. We arrive in Wellington, New Zealand at 8:15 AM.

Los Angeles Recap

December 29th, 2005.

The unofficial part of my journey began on December 29th. I left New Orleans and the family to stay a week with my brother in Los Angeles. This proved to be quite useful as I will explain later. Arriving Thursday night around 6:30 PM, Josh was fairly punctual in picking me up. We hit up a Target and Home Depot on the way to going to Zanksou(sp?). I enjoyed some of the most yummy rotissere chicken and schwarma than I've had in a long time.

December 30th, 2005.

Friday I checked out the grove and saw the movie Syriana. Note to self: watching someone having their finger nails removed is quite gruesome. Otherwise, the movie was entertaining. Friday night we went to a recommended Italian restauarant. A lot of money was spent and I probably wouldn't recommend it. Paula and Josh made for good company though. Dinner was followed up with hot chocolate, alcohol, and canoli. The drink was more alcohol than hot chocolate so I didn't drink it. The canoli was quite tasty though. Paula had the same problem as I did with her drink.

December 31st, 2005.

Saturday was the first day of Josh's three day weekend. It was cold and rainy. Saturday night, New Year's Eve, we went to a house party. Most of the attendees were University of Texas graduates and I am pretty sure I was the youngest one there. The hostess was a friend of Paula's, so Josh only knew a whopping five people. Out of the 40 or so people there, we did meet many of them. A couple of girls hit on me, but they weren't my type.

Janaury 1st, 2006.

Sunday, New Years day, was cold and rainy. Josh and I met up with Mike Pitre and his girlfriend Molly. We had lunch at the only other place in America I know of that serves fried egg on a hamburger (the other place being Times Grill in Mandeville). I love fried egg on a hamburger. It was a scrumptious lunch. We went to see Narnia, walked 15 minutes in pouring down rain with no umbrella, only to get there and have the show be sold out, even though it's been in theatres for six weeks. The rain was starting to suck now. The four of us met up with Jason Neville and Todd Franklin for dinner at Mr. Pizza. It's a new york style pizzeria (yum yum).

January 2nd, 2006.

Monday, Josh's last day off work, was also cold and rainy. We decided to ignore the rain and check out the rose bowl parade. Waking up at 6:00 AM, this decision turned out to be one neither of us will ever forget. When we got to the route via car to subway, we walked a mile in the rain looking for a bagel place. Then the rain turned into a monsoon and all around you heard parade goers saying, "This is getting ridiculous!" Crowds started to thin. Josh and I took cover in a Chinese restaurant that just happened to be serving bagels and coffee. It was nice to have a roof over our heads. When the parade started to go by, we found shelter in a covered driveway of a hotel. We watched the first half of the parade there, then my hands started turning purple from the sub-40 temperatures. It was time to go. The parade was beautiful. I felt sorry for the dance/flag girls wearing sleeveless outfits. Their makeup was running and they were shivering as they marched by. This was the first time it had rained on the Rosebowl parade in 50 years. The rain would not be the last of our troubles today. After walking a mile back to the subway in the monsoon, every part of my body was soaked. Waterproof jackets and waterproof boots are no match for Pasadena's rain. We get on the subway and the loudspeaker blares, "There is an electrical problem on the subway. This train will only take you one stop." We go one stop. Upon disembarking the train, this next station is not covered. We stand ten minutes in the pouring down rain trying to leave the subway station to catch a shuttle that brings you to the next working station. The line is so long for the busses, people can't leave the station. When we finally do get out of the station, we hail cab that takes us to a subway station further along the route. Set us back $40. We take the subway, to the station where Josh is parked. As we get to the car with smiles on our faces because we are on the last leg home, there is a $35 parking ticket on the windshield. Between a federal holiday and pouring down rain, we still managed to get a ticket. For $75 we got to see the first half of the Rosebowl parade while soaked to the bone. I still had fun though. :)
We went to the grocery this evening, so the rest of the nights in LA we cooked. Rotissere chicken was tonight.

January 3rd, 2006.

Finally, a beautiful day. But Josh had to work. I had subway for lunch and took care of errands in the day. Dinner was pasta and sausage. Phillipe, Josh's roommate ate with us. I told him we ate at Mr. Pizza last night. He responded by asking, if we ate at some pizza place that started with a D. (I don't remember the name.) I told him no, it was Mr. Pizza. He described the place he was referring to and I told him that sounds exactly like the place we went. What a coincidence! Then Josh enters the room. I asked him, where did we eat last night? It turns out, Mr. Pizza is the same place as Phillipe was referring to. Mr. Pizza is just the nickname. It was funny at the time.

January 4th, 2006.

Another gorgeous day. It's ashame we couldn't have this sunshine during the weekend holiday. Did some more errands. Lunch was various groceries. I made Mac N' Cheese for dinner. Josh heated up chicken verde. I watched the Rose Bowl while Josh played music with a friend. The game was quite entertaining. Hook 'em!

In Los Angeles

I just created this blog and am about to leave my brother's townhome in 15 minutes. So not much time to post. I'll give a brief recount of my stay in Los Angeles when I get to the airport. Feel free to leave me comments or e-mail me abut my blog.

Introduction

Before I begin my blog, I have a few forewarnings to give. I apologize in advance if my blog is boring, you don't have to read it. I'll try and make the entries interesting, but depending on the time and the subject, it may not happen. In addition to informing all who know me and are interested in what I am doing on the other side of the world, this blog is also an archive for my trip which I will keep forever. Consequently, some entries are just for me to recall the facts of the trip or what I was thinking during this time. If you have critical suggestions, please e-mail me instead of posting public comments. All other comments (non-critical) are gladly welcomed in the comment section on any entry. Remember, the whole world can view these comments. I have set the blog up so that you do not have to register to comment. Though, if you are not registered, I might not know who you are.