Tag: Humor

Nikki’s Favorite Things: Dublin Edition

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I’ve been to Dublin a couple of times and always find something new to experience.  I love the lush green grass, lively cafes & bars and friendly natives.  I first became interested in Dublin while reading The Fever Series by Karen Marie Moning (a series of 5 books focusing on the character of Mackayla Lane, a pampered southern belle from Georgia, who goes to Dublin to find her sister’s killer).  It’s based in the supernatural/urban fantasy genre and a wonderful read.   What I loved about the books is that the author really took chances with the lead character and you were constantly surprised.  Anyway, as I became enthralled with the series, I anticipated seeing the places she referenced.  Below is a list of my favorite places, experiences & things to do in Dublin.

St. Stephens Green Park

    

This has to be one of the most beautiful parks I’ve ever visited.  It was so peaceful and even though a lot of people were about, it was surprisingly quiet.

Grafton Street

   

It’s one of the two principal (pedestrian) shopping streets in Dublin city center (the other being Henry Street).  With high-end shopping and entertainment, in 2008 it was named the fifth most expensive main shopping street in the world (Wikipedia).  As you walk, you will see several street performers (playing blues, rock, or folk music), artists and florists.  All the performers I saw were very good.  Lining the streets are a variety of flower markets.  I wanted to buy a bouquet and walk around with it all day because the smell and colors were wonderful!

Trinity College

 

Trinity College, formally known as the College of the Holy and Undivided Trinity of Queen Elizabeth near Dublin, was founded in 1592 by Queen Elizabeth I as the “mother of a university” (Wikipedia).  The campus is  beautiful.  It was originally a Protestant college.  However, Catholics started attending the school in the 1970s.  Be sure to check out the Book of Kells which is a book containing the 4 Gospels in Latin.  This book was written in calligraphy during the 17th century by 4 monks and richly decorated with inks from the Middle East.  It was actually pretty cool to see how rich the colors still are after all these years.

Queen of Tarts

 

I know I talk about food a lot…especially tea and scones.  Okay, seriously?  The Queen of Tarts is AWESOME!  They have 2 locations very close to each other (and yes, I went to both).  In fact, I went there 4 TIMES in 2 DAYS!  That’s right.  I am not ashamed to admit it.  I love scones and clotted cream.  Clotted cream is like whipped creamy crack.  When I got back to Atlanta, I spent days tracking down a store that imports it and bought 4 jars.  Yep…it just got real, y’all.

Temple Bar district

The Temple Bar district is an arts and entertainment maze of pubs…it’s basically the party district where most of the action is (bars/pubs, outdoor performers, etc.).

To give you a little flavor of what to expect, when I was in Dublin over the summer, my colleague & I went to the Temple Bar district and happened to walk past a pub that had gotten out of control.  It’s 5pm…and these folks are drunk like it’s 2am.  What the hell?  Faces are red, folks are drunk screaming (you know what I mean, “WOOOOO!  THAT WAS F’ING AWESOME, DUDE! I’M GONNA FIGHT LIAM IF HE LOOKS MY WAY AGAIN!”).  It was one of those things where you just start backing away slowly because you didn’t know what was about to happen.  When a guy came out with his face covered in purple/bluish bruises, I knew it was time to go.  So, we keep walking to a different pub.

A colleague that works in the Dublin office recommended we check out a pub in this area.  It was even recommended by Rick Steves.  Sigh.  Maybe it was an off night?  We go in and I noticed the crowd was mostly elderly.  I mean, they were playing ABBA.  Uh, are they Irish?  I didn’t think so.  We take a seat at the bar and order a Guinness.  This pub is on the infamous “pub crawl” which is about to start in 30 minutes or so.  I’m thinking that it will get better.  And, it does.  But for totally different reasons.

1.  Blue Collar So You Think You Can Dance (aka “The BC Onesie Crew) = a group of guys come in dressed in their work clothes.  These work clothes are blue jumpsuits (like adult onesies).  Instead of taking the entire onesie off, they just unzip the top part and tie the arms around the waist.  Clearly they have on clothes underneath (t-shirt & jeans) so I’m not sure why they continue to wear the onesie.  But, they do.  Maybe it doubles as their “clubbing” outfit?  As they are drinking, the onesie slides down a little more…because they are getting crunk.  Guinness is potent y’all.  The Irish jigs start playing and it turns into a juke joint.  I’m like, “the hell is this?”  Next thing I know, they are doing Riverdance and trying to pick up the nearest lady that passes them.  But, not to be outdone…

2.  Irish Kid & Play = that’s right.  However, it really was only Kid because his partner didn’t want to drop it like it’s hot.  In fact, he tried to act like Kid didn’t exist at one point.  Clearly, he didn’t recognize greatness!  So, Kid sees the BC Onesie Crew and was like, “I see your Riverdance, and I will raise you the Michael Jackson Experience.”  Then, the greatest thing happens.  Kid drops his head, raises his right arm, holds his hand up and does the Janet Jackson “Rhythm Nation” countdown, does a pop n lock before hitting us with the full turn and the MJ “Black & White” video scream into the non-existent wind machine.  This happened right in front of me.  I think he is a warlock with tiger blood & Adonis DNA because this was made for the win.  He stops, looks at the BC Onesie Crew and was like, “Checkmate, MFers”.

You know the BC Onesie Crew weren’t going out like that.  It’s time to come out of the onesie now.  They take a long drink of Guinness before pulling out the advanced moves.  Oh yeah, it just got really real, y’all.  They are battling…with Irish jigs playing on the 1s and 2s.  Y’all ain’t ready for this.  So, the BC Onesie Crew raise their arms, do some sort of flapping movement (kind of like Morris Day & The Time’s “The Bird”) with a 2-step salsa and look at Kid like, “take that, take that.”  What?  Not Diddy!  They just came with something they had practiced for the past month.  This was it…their Big Joker.  What they didn’t know was that Kid was going to run a Boston.  He was like, “That’s all you got?”   Then looks at the DJ like, “Kick an old school 13th century beat, maestro!”  He takes his hat off (a la MJ at the Motown 25th anniversary when he performed “Billie Jean”), does the Cabbage Patch, mixes in some country line dancing which transitioned into the moonwalk and finishes off with the robot.  Kid for the win!  Y’all think I’m making this up…but I’m not.  That made my night.  I was like, “Jiggin’ is serious in the Dubs!”  Don’t get caught slippin’ y’all.  You can’t get on Ireland’s Best Dance Crew doing the electric slide.

The fitzwilliam Hotel

 

The fitzwilliam is a 5-star luxury hotel is fabulous and located in the city center right on St. Stephens Green.  It’s one of the most comfortable hotels I’ve stayed in and is within walking distance to Grafton Street, Trinity College, the Temple Bar district, Dublin Castle and the Queen of Tarts.  I would definitely stay there again.

I should also let you know that it has a spa but, um…let me tell you my about my experience and you can decide if you want to do partake of their services.  I should’ve known something was up when the masseuse told me that her massages were “different”.  I just didn’t think anything of it.  That was my first mistake.  The second was telling her that I liked a “deep” touch.  The massage was supposed to be a hybrid Swedish & Aromatherapy.  It starts out fine.  Then I noticed that it started to hurt.  Apparently, she’s got a bit of muscle because she took a “deep touch” to mean that I wanted my subdermis tissue massaged as well.  I deal with it thinking that all my muscles should be nice and loose.  Then…it happened.  I’m lying there all relaxed about to fall asleep and next thing I know, she starts beating me!  With open hands!  Like I stole something from her.  I was like, “Hold up, Ike!  What did I do to you?  Why are you hitting me?”  She responds that “repetitive smacking” motions help break up fatty tissue.  Um, assault and battery help remove cellulite???  The hell?  I thought that she would stop beating me after she finished working on my legs.  I lay my head back down…still a bit rattled but determined to enjoy my massage.  Next thing I know, she’s moved to my buttocks, pulled the sheet down then starts to smack my booty!  I was like, “OH HECKS NAW!”  This whole Chris Brown massage was not working for me.  I had to let her know that she needed to focus on smooth motions and move away from my butt.  That is not where I hold my stress.  Stop beating me like I’m not singing “Proud Mary” right.  Because believe me…this big wheel will keep on rolling.  So, after we realigned expectations, the massage went better.  But, my booty still stung.  I felt like I was a kid again getting a whippin’ from my Dad – which always occurred for no good reason because I was an angel as a child!

Ha’Penny Bridge & the River Liffey

 

Just like the name sounds…there used to be a one and a half pence fee to cross over the River Liffey (which is a river that runs thru the center of town).  I don’t even know how they worked that out to make change.  What I loved most was this note on the pavement as you are crossing…

The Dublin Ghostbus Tour

In one word?  AWESOME!  It was so campy and I loved every minute of it.  But, be ready to suspend belief.  The bus had blackout drapes so it was pitch dark and it was decorated like a Haunted House inside!  OMG, it was fabulous.

Our tour guide was Declan.  He wore all black and talked very dramatic.  Like our lives were on the line.  You could die at any second.  Fun fact…I absolute REFUSE to watch scary movies.  But, stuff like this I think I can handle.  As long as Sammy Terry doesn’t come out of the woodwork.  Then, all bets are off.  Get the Depends because my nerves can’t take it.  But, I digress…Anyway, I felt like Vincent Price would be coming over the loud speakers at any moment.  In fact, our bus music as we drove to different sites was “Thriller”.  Michael Jackson and looking for ghosts?  Winning!  They also played “Ghostbusters” which was cheesy but you know I was screaming out, “WHO YOU GONNA CALL?”  That’s right.  Don’t act like you didn’t just say it with me.  It’s mobile theater & karaoke!

We went to a cemetery that was supposedly haunted.  Declan told us the story of a priest who was tortured then burned to death for refusing to convert from Catholicism to Protestant.  It’s said that his ghost haunts the cemetery.  He also tells us that Bram Stoker went to school in Dublin (at Trinity College) and the legend of Dracula was born here.

We pass different places with cool stories (i.e.  the College of Physicians where we are told of the strange activities of Dr. Clossy, whose spirit is still seen walking the corridors carrying a bucket of human entrails — apparently, he lived at the College and used to have students steal corpses to use as cadavers for teaching them about the human body).

There are a lot of stories (it’s a 2.5 hour tour) but the one that stuck out to me was The Lady in White.  Mostly because it didn’t make any logical sense and I need to understand why things happen.  Declan tells us the story of a beautiful woman who married this wealthy business man.  The man loved her more than the moon and the stars and the sunshine in the sky.  Air wasn’t worth breathing if her sweet breath wasn’t on it.  That kind of thing.  He really amps it up by highlighting how much this man loves this woman…which will be important to remember later on.  So, the morning after their wedding night, the husband reaches over to kiss is wife and finds her body cold.  He assumes she has died and was like, “LAWD NO!  NOT MY SWEET PEA!  HOW AM I GONNA LIVE WITHOUT HER?”.  He has a funeral and insists that his beloved (who I’m going to name Carla) be buried in her wedding dress with her trillion dollar wedding ring.  Nothing is too good for his dead baby boo.  But, Seamus (the guy burying Carla) was like, “oh, I’m gettin’ that ring and then I’m going down to the pub to make it rain”).  After Seamus puts Carla in the crypt, he tries to take the ring off her finger but it won’t come off.  So, he pulls out his pocket knife and tries to saw off her finger.  That’s when Carla wakes up and is like, “Fool, what is wrong with you?!?  You betta back up off me!”  Seamus is like, “OH HELL NAW!” and he runs out.  Comeback Carla is bewildered as to what has happened.  Maybe she thought she took a long nap after all that good lovin’ her baby boo gave her on their wedding night?  Who knows?  Anyway, Comeback Carla leaves the crypt and heads back to her house.  Now, let’s do a quick recap before I get to the end of the story.  Comeback Carla & her husband Richy Rich are so in love.  Carving “CC + RR 4EVA” on every tree they pass.  Because their love is real.  Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby…or so Comeback Carla thought.  After a night of passion, CC appears dead, RR is “devastated” as he buries his beloved boo.  Are we all on the same page?  Good.  Now, when folks die, they are usually buried in a matter of days.  So, while Declan didn’t say specifically, we’ll say a week has passed since RR thought CC died.  Well, CC shows back up at the house and when her husband opens the door, she’s like, “I’m back, baby!  Give me some suga!”  He slams the door in her face.  I’m sure she was like, “I know this fool didn’t just shut that door in my face after I’ve been buried in a crypt with this heavy-ass wedding dress on while walking 3 miles to the house after having some fool try to cut my finger off.  I know that didn’t happen.  RICHY!  OPEN THIS MF’IN DOOR…NOW!”  But, Declan said RR couldn’t accept her.  WHAT?  That doesn’t make any sense.  Why wouldn’t he taker her back?  Did he have a new boo?  Was he just in shock?  It was a week!  What the hell happened?  Did Comeback Carla turn into Bitter Betty?  Was it an episode of “Snapped”?  I was asking questions!  He didn’t have any answers. He just said that RR never took CC back and ended up losing all his money and being buried in a pauper’s grave.  What?  I was like, “you need to work on this story and come up with a more plausible ending, Dec.”  Seriously.  I ended up Googling the story because I needed to know why RR wouldn’t take her back.  Something had to have happened.  There were at least 10 stories about a Lady in White in every city but Dublin.  I’ll let you do draw your own conclusions.

What to Wear When Travelling Abroad

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Coco1One of the most popular questions asked when getting ready for a trip overseas is “What should I wear?”  I always suggest researching what the locals are wearing (with a few exceptions notated below).  Not solely for aesthetic reasons, but also for safety.  Most pickpockets target tourists.  Looking like you belong goes a long way.  Here are a few suggestions to help you look like a local on your travels abroad.

1.       Dress for the Country/Culture.  Each country has its own style.  Some countries are more lax (the U.S., England, Ireland, Scotland) while others take their fashion seriously (France & Italy).  With the exceptions that I have noted below, you can usually get away with a nice pair of jeans/black pants/skirt and plain shirts/sweaters.  Don’t wear anything outrageous or loud (leave the catsuit at home).

  • Middle East/Egypt/Morocco (& other Islamic countries) = First and foremost, you want to respect the culture of the country you are visiting.  Which means no Daisy Dukes while visiting the Pyramids of Giza in Cairo (and, yes, I have seen it).  Make sure you dress conservatively (covering most of your skin).  Yeah, it may be hot, but you can find breathable and dry-wick fabrics pretty easily.  Trust me; you do not want to stand out in a conservative country.  Women from western countries are viewed as being “loose”, which can invite sexual harassment from the local male population.  By keeping your goodies covered up, you take the attention off of you (and your valuables).  In Morocco, most women (and quite a few men) wear djellabas (a hooded robe).  These can be either heavy or light weight in fabric (according to season).  I didn’t wear one when I was there, but it is definitely an option which will reduce the amount of stares you get.  I tend to buy breathable tunics from Old Navy (most are 3/4 length sleeves), long flowing skirts, loose capris and convertible cargo pants.
  • France/Italy = These 2 fabulous countries are homes to the most famous fashion houses around.  This means they take their fashion seriously.  While the Italians are a bit more accepting, the French will turn their nose up if you walk past them wearing any of the items listed below in #3.
  • You can never go wrong with basic black.  It’s easy to coordinate and you can interchange with stylish accessories (like a scarf or costume jewelry).
  • The French love black, navy and brown.  I suggest using those as your base colors.  You will notice that most of the French will pair up their dark wardrobe with a colorful scarf.  Don’t have one?  Buy one when you get there…it’s a souvenir & fashion accessory all in one.
  • The Italians love color and you can get away with a lot more.  Most of all, it is attitude.
  • Quick everyday tip = Get your clothes tailored.  I noticed that many people look better in clothes that are altered to fit their shape.  I picked this tip up while visiting Paris.  Everybody there looks like a million bucks (or euros) and it really is because their clothes fit impeccably.
  • Spain = The Spanish love color & flowing maxi dresses/skirts.  I also noticed some ladies wearing cowboy boots with shorts but we will pretend like I didn’t see that because I don’t think that’s a good look personally (I like to call that seasonal dyslexia).
  • England/Ireland/Scotland/Holland/Czech Republic/Switzerland/Scandinavia = Pretty much anything goes.  I can’t say that I have seen a huge difference in what they wear vs. the U.S. (with the exception of the “don’ts” listed below).  A popular look during the summer of 2011 was shorts with tights & Chuck Taylors (*shudders*).  Don’t emulate that.  Hopefully that was a 1 season only look.LBD

2.      Dress for the Season.  Be sure to check the weather before you go.  Weather Underground is a good resource.  I have typically found that you will need to dress in layers no matter when you travel abroad.  A light jacket, colorful scarves, stylish cardigans/sweater coats are a must for spring, summer & fall.  Going in the winter?  Bring along a warm coat, some snazzy boots & a cute hat/scarf/glove combo.   I had left my puffer coat at home during a winter trip to Milan…only to realize that everybody (and I do mean everybody) was wearing one.  First and foremost, you want to be warm.  Don’t take an unlined peacoat when visiting Finland in the dead of winter.  Your health trumps fashion.  Plus, you will stand out as not knowing how to dress properly for cold weather 🙂  ExOfficio is now offering a snazzy sweater jacket that doubles as a travel pillow when folded.  This jacket is so cozy & warm!  I recently wore it during a winter trip and fell in love with it.  The jacket packs very easily, is super soft AND rain-resistant as well as keeping you warm & toasty.  This is now my go-to jacket both here and abroad!

coco3

3.       DO NOT WEAR…

  • Baseball caps!  If you want to protect your head & face from the harsh sun, opt for a stylish wide-brimmed hat (during the summer) or cloche/fedora (during the winter). Baseball caps scream tourist. Don’t bring your favorite sporting team to France unless you are actually on the team, k?
  • Baseball/Football Jerseys, High School/College T-shirts, etc.  Do I really even to explain why wearing a baseball or football jersey is a no-no? Again, you don’t want to stand out as a tourist for pickpockets. T-shirts are fine if they are plain or have a cool graphic. Bottom line, you want to look nice…not like you are getting ready to workout. If you just don’t think you can survive without wearing sporting apparel, buy a soccer/rugby jersey. You can fit in and it will be a conversation starter.
  • Fanny-packs!  Seriously…just no.  It’s not cute.  Tell your mother to leave it at home with the rest of the 80’s attire.  I don’t even know how this item became popular.  Never carry your money and valuables in a waist contraption that is easily seen.  You are begging a pickpocket to take a knife, cut the strap and steal it from you.  Use a money belt instead.  It’s similar to your beloved fanny-pack; it just goes under your shirt/waist of your pants instead so it will not be seen.  This protects your valuables from curious onlookers.
  • Expensive jewelry/bags!  A pickpocket will tackle you to steal your Rolex or Louis Vuitton.  Leave your valuables at home.
  • White sneakers???  I have actually seen quite a few locals wearing sneakers (though not usually white) around London & Paris.  My preference is to bring a pair of running shoes (as I like to workout during my trips abroad…even running races like the Paris-Versailles 10K) as well as a comfortable & stylish walking shoe (i.e. Hush Puppies, Mephisto, Clarks) that can transition into an evening shoe. I highly recommend walking shoes that have a rubber sole to minimize the impact of walking on cobblestones.  I love the Hush Puppies Sonnet flat which you can buy at Macy’s for almost half of what it retails for at other locations as well as the Makena Ballerina shoe.  Bottom line is to wear a shoe that you will be comfortable walking in for hours at a time.

Emma

4.       Must Haves.

  • Light jacket/cardigan/wrap = If you plan to wear tanks or sleeveless tops during the summer, be sure to bring something to cover your shoulders when visiting a place of worship.  You will not be allowed to enter with shoulders (and sometimes legs) exposed.  I bought Magellan’s Sun Protection Wrap for my recent trip to Morocco and fell in love.  So soft and it provides the necessary protection (both arms and head) when you enter places of worship.  I even wear it around at home.
  • Secure purse/money belt = I have been using a PacSafe purse (stylish & secure) to carry around my valuables, guidebook, umbrella & bottled water for a couple of years now and it is awesome.  Highly recommend!  The shoulder straps are reinforced with steel so it cannot be cut and the zippers lock into place.  It will take a pickpocket a few minutes to figure out how to gain access to your valuables.
  • Comfortable walking shoes = As I stated above, cobblestones can be harsh on your feet.  A stylish rubber-soled shoe will save your tootsies!
  • Dark colored pants & skirt = Use these as your base pieces.  Dark colors camouflage stains & are great to pair with funky accessories.

MM

5.     Handy resources.  Here are a few websites that focus on travel-related items:  While ExOfficio & Magellans offer stylish options, you can certainly find great travel clothing from cheaper stores (i.e. Old Navy, Target, etc.).

While these tips may not prevent you from being identified as a tourist, it will keep your bag lighter and you safer.  Hope it helps!  Safe travels.  Do you have any travel fashion tips?  If so, please comment as I’m always looking for a fresh perspective!

Also check out my posts on Nikki’s Favorite Things: Fashion Accessories and Essentials for Stress-Free Travel.

The Secret World of Pompeii

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Okay, y’all ain’t ready for this.  I wasn’t ready.  As you know, I like to give you a little flavor along with the history of the sites I visit.  Well, when our tour guide gave us the background on what life was really like in Pompeii before it was destroyed, it was like I was listening to “E True Hollywood Story: Pompeii”.  There is just so much.

First, the excavation site was visually more stunning than I expected.  Second, I was amazed that so many ancient homes were still somewhat intact.  I can’t even imagine my house being around thousands of years from now.

As we are walking, the guide tells us about the people of Pompeii.  I’m listening kind of lazily while taking pictures.  I mean, I’d just hiked up a volcano so my attention span was on a downward spiral.  Anyway, the guide says a series of things that capture and hold my interest for the rest of the day.

1.            Pompeii had an open sewer.  That’s right; Pompeii’s theme song was “Funkytown”.  I know…I couldn’t really believe it either.  I had to ask for clarification because it just seemed too nasty to be real.  Feces and urine would run down the streets and they would wait for the rain to wash it away.  Sorry for you if it happened to be a dry month.  You can see in this picture that there are huge stones that the people would use to cross the street (I like to call it “Doo Doo Crossing”) so they wouldn’t have to step in that crap (you know they only wore sandals which meant if they stepped in it, then they got the full effect).  I am sure that folks inevitably fell off the stones.  Maybe that is where the saying “Oh, sh*t!” came from?

2.            The rich folks in Pompeii were pompous.  Apparently, the good citizens of Funkytown liked to show off their wealth.  When you went over to Titus’s house, he had his treasure chest open on the front table so you could see how rich he was.  Also, they had a tiled mosaic of a big dog with “beware of dog” (in Latin) in the foyer.  So, basically, they invited you over and said, “Hey, look at all my money…but don’t try to take it because Fido will kill you.  More wine?”  This was well before the time of Occupy Pompeii Street.

  

3.            Pompeii was full of freaks.  Apparently, Pompeii was where the party was at.  They had 80 bars and 25 brothels.  With the open sewer.  I am not able to get past the open sewer so let’s just address that now.  It’s gonna come up…often.  Anyway, the freaks did come out at night and they were doing things that Rick James couldn’t even dream of.  Modern Pompeii is full of people selling erotic calendars, statues, playing cards, etc (see below).  Now, I originally thought these sexual position scenes may have been their version of “art” back then.  But, the guide pointed out that they posted these scenes in the bedrooms of the whorehouses as a “menu of services” (just like McDonald’s).  You know I was looking to see what the “goings on” were (purely for research purposes only).  You ain’t ready for that.  A menu of sexual services.  Seriously.  After getting your drank on at one of the 80 bars then crossing and falling into the open sewer, you go over to Octavia’s and ask for a #3.  Love it.

 

4.            Funk is a theme.  Now, the good people of Pompeii didn’t have bath tissue back then so they had to make do.  The lower caste folks would just wipe their booty with the left hand and eat with the right (they didn’t have forks or spoons back then which means they really needed both hands).  The rich folks would use a communal sea sponge for the family.  I’m gonna let that marinate for a minute.  Imagine you and your family all using the same sponge to wipe after doing #2.  I guess if they can deal with the open sewers, they can deal with a communal sponge.  They also used urine to bleach their clothes.  Really?  My dog would love that.

5.            They had cafes!  We found these bars with counters.  People would come in during the day and have bread and wine.  They paid their money and would sit at tables to socialize.  I never imagined an ancient civilization with marble counters!

 

It broke my heart to see the castes of the human & canine remains that were preserved from the lava and ash.  You can see the remains below of a man, dog and slave.

  

Overall, Pompeii was fascinating!  I highly recommend a visit if you ever plan to be in the Naples or Sorrento area.

        

E True Versailles Story: Royals Gone Wild

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I decided to tour Versailles.  Since I had such a great time on the Night Bike Tour in Paris, I booked the Versailles tour through Fat Tire Bike Tours as well.  The tour lasts approximately 8.5 hours so it’s a full day of riding & sightseeing.

While in Paris, we ride our bikes from the bike shop to the train station (which is about 10 minutes away), then put the bikes on the train for a 20 minute ride to Versailles.  Once we arrive, we pedal over to the farmer’s market to buy food for our picnic that afternoon.

The market is fantastic!  You can really go broke (because a tray of raspberries and other fruit cost me 17 euros) but the freshness of the food is unbelievable.  I ended up buying some fruit, tomatoes, green beans, rotisserie chicken and water.  I passed on buying a bottle of wine as I remembered the drunk pedaling from before.  So, after we load up the bikes with our purchases, we bike over to the grounds of the Palace of Versailles (or as it is called in French, Château de Versailles).

Apparently, they try to keep the château & grounds true to history so the horses and sheep are there for decoration which has to be a pretty plush job for them.  Our fabulous tour guides are Sadie and Matt.

Okay…I hope I remember all the history correctly.  If there are inaccuracies, then let me know.  Versailles used to be the hunting grounds of King Louis XIII and was made the capital of France by King Louis XIV (“KL14”) from 1682 until the French Revolution which started in 1789.  Three kings lived in Versailles (KL14 who built the Palace of Versailles, KL15 who enjoyed it, and KL16 who paid for it…with his head).

The Palace is lavish…in fact, it’s downright gaudy.  You know how some folks just don’t know that less is more?  Well, that was the Louis’.  In the end, all that flash came back to bite them in the butt.

This place has a lot of gold…like Mr. T had been their architect and interior designer.  They just covered everything with flowers and paintings.  It was like they had to have it all.  Even if it didn’t quite blend in with the décor.  They’d just see something, buy it, put it in a room and name it a certain “salon”.

Apparently, the Dauphin & Dauphine (king and queen) had their own set of suites on opposite sides of the palace.  And, considering all the mistresses that KL14 & 15 had, it’s no surprise.

The dining room was called the “Hall of Mirrors” and is 250 feet long, with 17 arched windows and 17 matching arched mirrors that look at the garden.  The literature states that it “reflects an age when beautiful people loved to look at themselves.”  I saw the portraits of a lot of folks back then and um…let’s just say that beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder.  Maybe it’s just me but I think I’ve only seen 1 portrait of someone who I thought was attractive.  Otherwise, they just all looked plain.  And, a couple of the women look like men dressed in drag.  I mean, it was a painting so they could’ve done some photoshopping and prettied them up with a few strokes of the paintbrush.  One woman was painted with a light mustache.  If that was me, the painter would’ve have been shown the door.  Make me thinner & prettier…not fatter and more masculine.

Sorry, I digressed.  Guess I got caught up in all the beauty.  Back to the dining room.  It was huge.  But KL14 (or as he named himself, the “Sun King”) felt like he needed more space to entertain.  So, he made all the people move out of the village of Trianon so he could build a SECOND DINING ROOM!  Apparently, pretty people need a lot of space to eat.  KL14 went all out.  Nothing was too good…he even had the marble brought in from Italy.  KL14 was spending the money from France’s treasury on furnishing his home like he was at the strip club making it rain.  One figure I heard was that he spent HALF of what was in the treasury.  So, he kicked the folks out the area and named the dining hall after the village in honor of them.  I’m sure they appreciated that sentiment as they were living under a bridge.

If anything, KL14 needed to be building a shower and bathtub because it is rumored that he only bathed two or three times in his life.  I was reading The Raucous Royals (because I love gossip & scandal even if it’s hundreds of years old), and it stated that “In King Louis XIV’s day, people thought a good, thick, grimy layer of filth would keep you healthy and strong.  They believed water spread diseases by penetrating the pores of the skin and then infecting the bloodstream.  Most people didn’t bathe more than once a year. The wealthy did change their linen throughout the day because they believed that the linen wicked away sweat and dirt, but they still stunk.”  And that made no logical sense.  Come on, France.  To combat the smells, the men and ladies in KL14’s court would douse themselves with perfumes and powders.  So, imagine being back in that day and having to smell Jean-Claude’s funk mixed with Cody Wild Musk for Men.  Ewwww.

To be fair, the book stated that KL14 was so clean that he was almost fussy about it. “He often bathed in a big Turkish bath.  When not in his bath, he rubbed spirits or alcohol on his skin (perfume gave him headaches), which acted as a disinfectant. And, as if that were not enough, he changed his undies three times a day!”  The book also said that KL14 towered over his subjects at an amazing 6’10”. Unfortunately, he was only 5’4” when naked.  “To compensate for his short stature, he wore a twelve-inch-high wig and six-inch red heels. But this was one look that no one could copy. King Louis XIV decreed that only the king could wear red heels.”  Only the king wears Prada, y’all.

Now, this book also said that Queen Elizabeth 1 would bleach her teeth with dog urine so keep that in mind when judging the veracity of their information.  Regardless of bathing or not, whatever he did it must have paid off because KL14 lived to the ripe old age of seventy-seven and was king for seventy-two years, longer than any other French monarch in history.

So, KL14 builds up a lavish palace and dies then KL15 assumes the throne (after a regency period since he was only 5 when his great-granddaddy went to the gilded gates).  KL15 was known as the playboy extraordinaire.  He claims to have had 5000 mistresses.  Okay, Wilt Chamberlain.  One mistress, Marie Anne de Maillynesle, put together a business plan for her future when her looks started to fade.  She figured out that KL15 liked his women more than ruling so when she felt like she was getting too old, instead of having him kick her to the curb…she became a pimp and procured women for him.  However, she wanted more power…and since he didn’t really want to govern anything outside the bedroom, he let A Pimp Named Marie Anne run the country.  She would just start wars (like the Seven Years War) so she could resolve them and have even more power.  The most famous of his mistresses are Madame du Pompadour and Madame du Barry.  Of course, with all the sleeping around he was doing, you know they all had cooties.  How are you going to be scared of water but not STDs?  Come on, France.

We then pedal over to the Hamlet of The Domaine de Marie Antoinette (aka The Hamlet).  In order to understand the significance of The Hamlet, I’ll give you a bit of background about the events leading up to the French Revolution.  As I stated above, KL14 & 15 were living the high life by spending money on buildings, wars, clothes and women.

Then, KL16 comes along.  He was set to marry Marie-Antoinette after the Seven Years War as a way to solidify peace between France & Austria.  The story goes that KL16 was a nerdy kid who, at 15 (the age he married Marie-Antoinette), preferred to collect bugs & locks than look at women.  Then, there was the supposedly beautiful Marie-Antoinette (“MA”).  Sigh.  I saw the painting.  We’ll give her a pass.  So, “beautiful” MA marries KL16 at the age of 14.  Her primary goal was to get knocked up with some heirs.  But, KL16 wanted to go out and collect fireflies and pick locks.  And, MA, having read the precursor to the book, “He’s Just Not That Into You” was upset.  Which many women can sympathize with.  It’s one thing to be rejected by a fine man.  Quite another to be rejected by the French Urkel.  MA tries to seduce KL16 to no avail.  People start looking at her all suspiciously because she hasn’t gotten knocked up yet.  So, she did what most women do when they are depressed.  No, not eat chocolate and binge drink (or maybe that’s just me).  She went shopping.  And spent MASSIVE amounts of money on all the latest fashions.  Where did that money come from?  The treasury into which folks paid their taxes.

Finally, 7 years later, MA gets pregnant.  Maybe she put on some kinky ladybug lingerie and rubbed her legs together like a spider to entice KL16.  Who knows?  She ended up having 4 kids.  After having her kids, she decided that she wanted to know what it was like to live like a peasant…so she had The Hamlet built.

This “peasant village” was basically a big dollhouse & playground.  She had sheep that she would have dyed a different color each day depending on her mood.  She then would pretend to milk a cow into a porcelain bowl.  Her peasant dresses were tailored.  You can only imagine from the pictures how much this little playground cost the taxpayers.  And, apparently, when the villagers saw her making a mockery of their lives…well, let’s just say that karma is a ______.

MA had her own place with a moat around it and required KL16 to send a written request before coming to visit.  Legend is that she had a Swedish lover that she would meet at the Temple of Love she had built for their rendezvous (which was not at all discreet…Temple of Love, Marie?  Seriously?).  With 80 acres of land, they could slip off and not be seen by anybody.

After the French monarchy were on MTV’s “Cribs”, the bourgeoisie class (which were the middle class and merchants) were like, “WTF?”  They were tired of seeing their hard-earned money go to waste.  People were starving because taxes had risen dramatically to pay for such a lavish lifestyle in Versailles.  So, they ended up signing the “Tennis Court Treaty” where they wrote a constitution and basically decided to revolt.  Which, I don’t know why KL16 didn’t see this coming.  The French had just helped out the US for the American Revolutionary War…put down the bugs, buddy.  You know the Americans were like, “Listen, Pierre, you gots to get out now.  You think I’m gonna let George tell me what to do?  I’m not calling him “king”.  Plus, I think he’s got a mental illness and I don’t have time for the drama.  Britain can kick rocks!!! U-S-A-U-S-A-U-S-A.  What?  Is he your master now?  Can he beat you up?  You need to take notes and tell Louis that France don’t have time for bug collectin’ and prancing around in stockings and high heels while folks can’t buy bread!  Revolt, man!”  While KL16 was collecting butterflies, the French were collecting guns.

So, the French Revolution starts in 1789 when KL16 finally gets a clue that something is going on and sends his army into Paris to put the smack down.  The citizens think the soldiers are about to attack and get all Matrix on them and storm the battalion to set free the political prisoners…of which there were only 5; and get the gun powder which was stored there.  Then, the fishmonger women (you know, the women who work at the docks) started marching on Versailles and surrounded the Palace.  Finally, KL16 & MA surrendered under the condition that they would live under house arrest at the Louvre.

They lived at the Louvre for a few years but when they saw the guillotine had been built and folks were getting beheaded…well, they came up with an escape plan.  I think it’s now pretty obvious that KL16 is no mastermind.  MA passed out her tailored haute couture peasant clothes and they snuck out of the Louvre in the dead of night and probably would’ve made it to freedom had KL16 not refused to take a nondescript peasant carriage.  He said he’d only ride in the royal carriage.  Sigh.  That kinda defeats the purpose of discretion.  Once they convince him to take a Kia carriage, they end up being stopped by a patrolman outside the city.  KL16’s face is on all currency so it didn’t take long for the patrolman to figure out KL16 (aka “The French MacGyver”) was trying to escape.  Somehow, he just wasn’t getting the concept of subterfuge.  So, of course they get caught.  Then, they both end up getting beheaded.  KL16 first…and MA almost a year later after she had been humiliated.  Folks hated MA by this point and would just take any opportunity to ridicule her.

In the end, the whole family (except for 1 daughter) ended up dying.  It’s pretty sad.

But, the grounds are beautiful!  After riding around and looking at the gardens, we had a picnic on the grounds behind the palace.

Finally, I walked through this hall where a guy in period costume was playing chess against at least 12 people…and he beat everybody sitting there.  Most people stare at the board for a while before making a move.  This guy didn’t spend more than 30 seconds thinking of each move…would take whatever piece that was yours and move on to the next player.

Overall, Versailles is gorgeous.  The Palace itself is okay (if you are into that type of thing).  I thought the grounds, gardens and the Domaine de Marie-Antoinette were the most interesting.

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Roaming Thru Rome

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[This is the post that started it all…my very first trip overseas!  I sent this email to friends & family in June 2007.  It still cracks me up.]

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Hello, everybody!  I have been in Rome less than 48 hours and so far, my trip has been like a Greek tragedy.

Act 1 “Getting to Rome”

I was booked on an US Air flight (from now on, I’ll be referring to them as Beelzebub Airlines, i.e. the Devil, or just B for short because it’s easier).  Anyway, I had a B flight from Atlanta to Philly with just 1 hour for a layover before my connecting flight to Rome.  Now, I knew it would be cutting it close should there be a delay but there wasn’t anything I could do.  So, the flight from Atlanta gets delayed because there was too much “air traffic” in Philly.  How long is the delay?  One hour.  Yes, I said 1 hour.  The exact time I had between connections.  So, the B pilot (I’m just gonna call him “Cooter”) tells us that B always pads the flight duration times so we will arrive at 5:15pm.  I had a 6:05pm connecting flight.  As Cooter is flying the plane he starts talking about altitude and the sunshine and other things I don’t really care about.  I care about him increasing the speed on that jet so I could catch my flight.  A 7-year-old girl looks at her watch (apparently the watch that Cooter doesn’t own) and announces that it is 5:25pm and we haven’t even begun to descend from the sky.  I ask the flight attendant about options to hold my connecting flight by a few minutes.  Of course, they can’t promise that but did say they would have an electric cart waiting to drive me over to the next concourse.

We finally land and I get off the plane around 5:45pm.  Was there an electric cart waiting?  I think you know the answer.  My Mom calls to let me know that they’ve already boarded the flight and I need to get there now because they are about to close the door.  So, I’m running like OJ thru the airport (without the knife or a Bronco) because there was no electric cart.  I get to the gate and the less-than-friendly gate agent says, “We gave your seat away.”  I responded with “Oh, so I’m flying first class now, right?”  She said, “As of right now, you don’t even have a seat on the plane.”  I just looked at her and thought to myself “Hmm, I’m gonna be on this flight if I have to sit with the pilot” and then wondered what kind of in-flight service he received because I’m sure he’s eating better than coach.  She eventually finds a seat for me and I am able to board.

Act II “Arrival to Rome”

I arrive in Rome and guess who doesn’t have their bags?  If you guessed me, then you are correct.  I don’t have one article of clothing because I packed everything except for toiletries.  I report my luggage as lost and started with my day.  Rome is BEAUTIFUL.  The experience of being here is hard to explain.  However, I will share with you a few tidbits on the craziness that’s happened to me.

Since I don’t have any clothes, I had to go shopping.  Now, something I didn’t know about Rome is that they apparently hate fat people.  And, by fat people, that would be anybody that wears a U.S. size 6 and above.  I go to a store and pull a couple of dresses off the rack to try on.  I select a medium and a large (thinking that they might run a little small).  A saleswoman (I’m calling her “Nunya” because she was all in my business without needing to be) walks up and looks over my shoulder at the sizes I picked up and says loudly (because apparently fat people are deaf too) “Jeeww need an EXTRA EXTRA LARGE”.  I looked around thinking that maybe she was talking to someone else but she was all up in my face.  So, I was like, “Um, I don’t wear that large of a size.  This will be fine.” and go about my business of browsing the new “Crack/Smack” summer collection (because wasn’t nobody gonna fit them clothes unless they hit the pipe).  So, Nunya disappears to what I thought was to mind her business.  I was wrong.  She comes out of the back room with an XXL size dress (I guess they leave the fat clothes in a special “Baby Got Back Room” or something) and then announces to the entire store “NOOO, JEEWWW NEED DIS EXTRA EXTRA LARGE.  IT STRETCHES SO IT HELPS YO HIPS!”  Um, what?  My mind is screaming, “I know she ain’t talking to me.”  I refuse to buy a size that I spent a year of hard dieting to leave behind.  I wish I would by an XXL!  I wear small and medium.  I don’t care if America is lying to me about my size.  Lie to me, America.  I don’t want to know the truth.  Clearly, I can’t handle the truth.  So, I take the Jabba-the-Hut-sized dress and decided to try it on to prove to her that it was too big.  Game on, sister!  Well, to my surprise…that sucker barely fit.  So, um…game off.  My face was TIGHT!  I was like, “oh hecks naw.”  When did I become an XXL?   Oh my God.  I’m the light-skinned Precious!  As I’m having my meltdown, Nunya says, “See, the fab-er-ic stret-chas fo jeww.”  I just had to leave the store because my nerves were shot.

As I left the store and fumed all the way up the street, I started wishing I had some gelato to ease the pain of being called fat.  Eventually, I find another store, and pick out a couple of outfits.  But since the clothes are sized different, I wasn’t sure which size was appropriate.  The sales guy (let’s call him “Antonio”) told me that I wear a 2.  I was like “Is that a fat girl size?  Because I ain’t buying a fat girl size.”  At this point, my Mom is just looking away and laughing because other people in the store are looking at me like I’m crazy.  Whatever.  I was serious.  NO FAT GIRL CLOTHES!  My experience with Nunya had scarred me and I needed someone to talk me down and it was Antonio’s job to do it.  He turned on the Italian charm and I finally found an outfit that fit then paid an astronomical amount because everything is expensive.  If any of you are looking to do an outreach ministry, consider donating to me.  Thanks!

Act III “Fat Brownie does Rome”

I thought my bags would arrive the next day…they didn’t.  Thanks, Beelzebub Airlines!  So, I had to go thru the shopping process all over again but decided to check out a different area.  During my second sojourn into the trials and tribulations of being a big girl, I noticed something else…they don’t sell underwear.  Well, they sell it sparingly and for a small fortune…like it is illegal or something.  I asked at least 3 or 4 women where I could find underwear.  At one store (I’ll call it “Skelewear” because you had to be a skeleton to fit the clothes), nobody spoke English.  I know very limited Italian and used it up ordering a sandwich (big girls gotta eat).  So, the lady says “yesa, I speaka a leetle englese.”  I ask if she knew of anyplace that sold underwear.  Her response?  “Yes.  No.  No.  Grazie” and she walks away.  Yes, no, no, grazie?  The hell?  After walking around to a few stores, I finally found a pair of underwear.  One pair costs $25 euro (since it wasn’t Spanx and that is apparently what I need to wear some clothes around here, I just passed)!  I thought about finding Fabrizio on the corner and asking him if he could get me some Hanes off the black market for $5 euro.  Somebody has to have the hook-up around here.  I tried on more clothes, of which nothing fit.  By now, my nerves are shot, I’m joining Weight Watchers online and looking for an Italian Lane Bryant.  I end up borrowing clothes from my mother and other people on the tour.  Because I’m too fat for Rome and have no luggage.  How about that?

Act IV “My Daddy”

We went to see the Trevi Fountain and there was a guy that was dressed up kind of like the Statue of Liberty — faced painted gray with a gray robe holding a torch.  I then realized it was an actual person…not a statue.  So, I say discreetly to my father, “Dad, watch your step because you are about to back up on that guy.”  He looks around and says loudly to the entire group of 37 people “HEY!!!  THAT’S AN ACTUAL GUY.  I THOUGHT IT WAS A STATUE!  BRENDA, GET ME THE CAMERA SO I CAN TAKE A PICTURE.”  All up in the man’s face.  I was like, “What didn’t you understand about me being discreet?”

All in all, Italy really has been an amazing experience — 10,000 Miles by Air, 700 Miles by Bus, and 100 Miles by Foot (well, that may be a slight exaggeration).  Seeing the ruins up close is something I really can’t describe.

Here are my favorites:

The Roman Forum — All Roads Lead to Rome

    

The Fonatana di Trevi was created by Nicola Salvi in 1762 and is Rome’s largest and most famous fountain.  You can see the central figure is Neptune and he is flanked by two Tritons (one trying to master an unruly seahorse and the other leading a quieter beast).  This is supposed to symbolize the contrasting moods of the sea.  It’s estimated that each day 22 million gallons of water flow thru the fountain.  This is the original site of the Aqua Virgo aqueduct built by Agrippa in 19 BC to channel water to Rome’s new bath complexes.  It may have been named for a girl named, Trivia, who is said to have first shown the spring to thirsty Roman soldiers.  Legend has it that if you toss a coin into the fountain, you are guaranteed to return to Rome.  I’ve been back to Rome twice since that time.

 

The Spanish Steps (aka Piazza di Spagna) is the most famous square in Rome and takes its name from the Palazzo di Spagna, built in the 17th century to house the Spanish embassy to the Holy See.

The Colosseum is known as Rome’s greatest amphitheater.  It was commissioned by Emperor Vespasian in AD 72.  In this theater, up to 55,000 spectators could watch gladiators fight each other or wild animals.  During the inaugural games in AD 80, approximately 9,000 wild animals were killed.  Slaves could gain their freedom by fighting men or wild animals to the death.  I guess you fight for freedom or die trying.

  

The Pantheon is also known as the Roman “temple of all the gods.  It’s the best preserved ancient building in Rome.  It was built (and possibly designed) by Emperor Hadrian in AD 118.  It’s interesting in that during the 7th century, permission was granted to turn the temple into a church when Christians claimed by be plagued by demons as they passed by the building.  Today, it’s lined with tombs and holds the bodies of Italian monarchs.

 

Other than the clothing situation, things have been wonderful.  The men are absolutely gorgeous and I’ve had several people say that I look like I’m 18.  Which is great since I’m just a couple of years older than that 🙂  Please pray for me that I receive my luggage soon.  Otherwise, no telling what you might see on CNN.  I might be in the studio with Sir Mix-a-lot working on the Italian version of “Baby Got Back”!  Ha!  Until then…ciao!

Race Series: How I Survived the Paris-Versailles 16K Race!

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Running an international race was on my bucket list this year so I jumped at the chance of participating in the Paris-Versailles 16K (which is 10 miles)!  I had run a half marathon earlier this year so I thought it would be a piece of cake.  Wrong.  I was required to have my doctor sign a medical waiver (clue #1).  Since I love Paris and Versailles, I thought this would be a great idea and it would give me a chance to see some beautiful scenery.  I had read the info on the race website and a question was asked about the terrain.  The question was “I’ve never ran the Paris-Versailles, is the race difficult?”  The reply, “The race, in spite of the reputation of the “Côte des gardes”, is still easier than a half marathon. Be careful on the last climb to Viroflay (before the feeding station of km 13) who is redoubtable, as well as the slight incline of the Avenue de Paris in Versailles, which can seem endless.”  (clue #2)  That’s it.  Keep that response in mind for later, k?

I get up, head to Starbucks for yogurt and then take the train to the Eiffel Tower where the race is to start.  Um, why were there several funky folks on the train?  Dude, you haven’t even ran the race yet?  You want to be smelling like booty funk when you wake up?  Hose yourself off and get some deodorant.  The thought going thru my mind was, “what the hell is it going to smell like after the race?” 

So, we arrive at the Eiffel Tower and it is packed.  The race had sold out about a month earlier.
    

View of people walking over the Seine towards the starting line.

I met up with a couple of French colleagues in the starting area (which is packed).  Then, as we are lining up, my colleague says, “Hey, be careful out there because people have died running this race.”  Wait, WHAT?  People have died?  Why wasn’t that in the literature???  He tells me that people always overdo it because they aren’t ready for the huge hill between kilometers 6 and 8.  They don’t pace themselves appropriately.  Then, he says that he saw 2 people die a couple of years ago.  WHAT THE HELL?  WHY AM I JUST NOW HEARING ABOUT THIS MESS?  I AM NOT READY TO DIE.  I HAVEN’T SAID GOOD-BYE!  So, I did the best I could…sent a message on Facebook telling everybody that it’s been a good life & requested they keep me lifted in up prayer.  Ha!

The race has a rolling start but unlike half & full marathons, you aren’t grouped by pace.  They just let a certain amount of people start running every 2 minutes.  Finally, our group is released to start the race.  A couple of things I notice from the start.  First, there is no concept of personal space.  People just run all up on you so you are constantly covered in other people’s sweat.  It’s gross.  And you cannot avoid it.  Second, Port-O-Potties are a suggestion, not a requirement.  While they have some at the hydration stations, most people just stopped running and urinated on the side of the road.  Men AND WOMEN.  I don’t need to see Jean-Claude whip out his junk and I certainly don’t need to see Chanel pull her pants down and squat.  Really?  On the side of the road???  I can’t take it.

Once I’m over that, I’m able to continue focusing on my run.  Then, I see some guys running in chicken costumes.  In the heat…for 10 miles.  I’m sure that seemed like a neat concept in theory.  By the 3km marker, the chicken head had come off and was tossed to the side…by the 6km marker, the entire suit was tossed.

  

I’m just running along and then I come to the 6km marker and see what I’m gonna call the “Hill to Jesus”.  It went straight up.  Seriously?  What the hell?  I just started looking around for a train or bus stop because I just knew that I the hill would kill me and I would have to ask Jesus to help me out.  As I start my Jesus quest, I’m thinking that I have 20 Euro and could either find a taxi or bribe a kid to let me hop on his scooter.  The 2 km Jesus run seemed like it was 26 miles.  I honestly didn’t think I would make it.  I cursed myself out the entire time I was running (while I listened to Marvin Sapp’s “Never Would of Made it” to give me some encouragement.  Ha!).  I finally made it, gave thanks to Jesus and prayed that it was all downhill after that.  It wasn’t.  However, 11-13km was pretty good.  While I survived the hill, not everybody did.  I saw 3 people being rushed to the hospital via ambulance.  It’s weird passing ambulances that are stationed at every kilometer.  I also ran past several people at the medics tent getting oxygen and other medical care.  You know I was like, “uh…maybe I should just take a quick break and have them check my pressure?”  But, I kept it going.

Then there was another hill.  WTF?!?!?!?  I saw the medic scooter and thought, “I’m saved!”but it flew right on past to help out someone else.  They were probably faking.  I finally come to the last hydration station that has sugar cubes (that’s new for me), oranges, water and Powerade…and they are playing Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”…aw yeah!  That gets me hyped and I get a little burst of energy…

And, I finally cross the finish line 2 hours after I started the race.  One more goal achieved!!