#my local metro park has a herd!!

[ronda1466]

New Best Places to Visit for Families in Dubai 2024 / Dubai is the best place in the world and it's a family-friendly lifestyle destination. which is located near the iconic Dubai Creek it's an area rich in historical sites. you can go there shopping, you can go to restaurants, you can book a you can. you can go there for a walk it's a beautiful waterfront destination so you should check it out

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Al Seef, a charming waterfront destination, seamlessly blends traditional architecture with modern amenities, offering a cultural and leisurely experience. Palam, known for its vibrant markets and diverse culinary scene, invites visitors to explore the rich tapestry of its local culture. Bluwaters Island stands as a contemporary haven, boasting luxurious residences and leisure options against the backdrop of stunning sea views. Lamar Plaza, a dynamic urban hub, captivates with its bustling atmosphere, housing a mix of shopping, dining, and entertainment establishments.

the point is it's a lifestyle destination as well is located on Palm Jumeirah you can go there by Plam Monorail which is connected to the Dubai metro and Dubai tram, it's a beautiful waterfront destination with a wide variety of restaurants, and shops, and has entertainment for kids, they have beautiful fountains, cinema, a night club, to gyms. so it's a great place just to go and hang out there I think it's a bit hot now so I recommend you to go there at night.

Blu Waters Island is a breathtaking destination, renowned for its pristine beauty and serene atmosphere. The crystal-clear azure waters that surround the island create a mesmerizing backdrop for visitors. With lush greenery and vibrant flora, the landscape is a perfect blend of nature's wonders. The white sandy beaches stretch along the shoreline, offering a tranquil escape for sunbathing and relaxation.

The island boasts diverse marine life, making it a paradise for snorkeling and diving enthusiasts. A leisurely stroll through tropical gardens reveals a rich tapestry of colorful flowers and exotic plant species. As the sun sets, the sky transforms into a canvas of warm hues, casting a magical glow over the island. Blu Waters Island is dotted with charming seaside cafes and restaurants, where visitors can savor local delicacies while enjoying panoramic views.

Adventure seekers can explore hidden coves and secret trails, adding an element of excitement to their island experience. Luxurious resorts and cozy villas provide world-class accommodation, ensuring a comfortable stay amid nature's splendor. Whether you seek relaxation or adventure, Blu Waters Island offers an idyllic retreat that captivates the senses and creates lasting memories.

Lamar Valley, located in Yellowstone National Park, is a breathtaking destination with its unique combination of scenic beauty and diverse wildlife. As the sun sets, the golden hues illuminate the vast meadows surrounded by towering mountain peaks. The Lamar River meanders through the valley, reflecting the surrounding landscapes. Bison herds graze peacefully, creating an iconic scene against the backdrop of lush grasslands.

The valley is also a prime location for spotting wolves, providing a thrilling wildlife viewing experience. Visitors can explore the area through hiking trails, such as the Lamar River Trail, offering panoramic views of the valley and its pristine wilderness. With its untouched landscapes and abundant wildlife, Lamar Valley stands as a testament to the natural wonders found within Yellowstone National Park.

[schraubd]

Booing Trump in Washington: The Appearance isn't the Reality, But the Reality May Become the Appearance

Many of you saw that President Trump, who attended Game Five of the World Series in Washington yesterday, was roundly and loudly booed.

When the president was announced on the public address system after the third inning as part of a tribute to veterans, the crowd roared into sustained booing — hitting almost 100 decibels. Chants of “Lock him up” and “Impeach Trump” then broke out at Nationals Park, where a sellout crowd was watching the game between the Washington Nationals and Houston Astros. 

For many of the folks on my Twitter feed, this was not just a feel-good moment (though it was). It was also highly symbolic -- proof that the President is weak, that he has lost the support of the people, and that maybe his grip on the GOP in the Senate might weaken just enough to make impeachment actually viable. I remain skeptical. Partially, that's because I don't think congressional Republicans are responsive to anything remotely resembling "the popular will" at this point. But partially, it's because I know the demographics of the areas surrounding Washington DC. Below are the 2016 electoral margins of DC and surrounding counties (all went for Hillary Clinton):

Washington (DC): 91/4 Montgomery County (MD): 75/19 Prince George's County (MD): 88/8 Fairfax County (VA): 64/29 Arlington County (VA): 76/17 Alexandria City (VA): 76/18

This is an area of the country where (to its credit!) Trump has always been despised. And if anything relatively wealthy suburban professional counties have gotten even more sour on Trump since 2016, and I'd suspect relatively wealthy suburban professional counties surrounding DC to be "even more so" on that front. So it maybe doesn't tell us that much about the views of America as a whole if a stadium full of fans from places like DC, Montgomery County, and Fairfax loudly booed Donald Trump. But if one is looking for a silver lining, here it is: it might not have to. The appearance of widespread revulsion at Donald Trump doesn't match a reality where Americans, as a whole, are very different from DC metro residents, specifically. But it is also the case that, as a matter of psychology, the appearance of widespread revulsion at Donald Trump can help move the needle on the reality, even in circumstances where that appearance is in many ways an artifact of local demographics. Most people don't know the particular political orientation of the metro DC area. Most people just see a crowd full of regular Joes and Josettes who roundly despite the President, and take that as a data point that the President is despised by many, many regular folks. And we know in politics that people often follow herds -- the political positions they take are constrained by the set of political positions they know to be acceptable. Trump appearing weak can easily cascade into Trump being weak. And given that Trump really is weak -- perhaps not as overwhelmingly disliked as he would be at National Park, but certainly sporting consistently mediocre poll ratings -- a high-profile, high-salience event where Americans seemed to unite around thinking Trump is awful may well actually do real political work. Even if the appearance mostly is artificial. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/2Pswh44

[jayjay879]

What’s up with the way The Royal Heir portrays Texas?

I’ve been on hiatus for work and just caught up through Chapter 10. I grew up in a small town here and have lived all over the state — in some of the biggest cities and in rural areas. @playchoices has gotten most of it wrong... (This little calf though is so damn cute!)

Keep in mind that Texas has over 65 cities with at least 50,000 people in them. There are plenty of rural towns, but they’re usually in between those cities and/or around one of the big 4 metro areas (DFW, Houston, San Antonio, and Austin.) Texans do work hard and have jobs in almost every industry — yes, there’s ranching and agriculture, but also oil, tech, healthcare, retail, etc.

We also like to kick back and relax at festivals, breweries, wineries, biergartens, the coast, one of the rivers or lakes, football / basketball / baseball / soccer / hockey games, races, amusement parks, water parks, museums, zoos, aquariums, city parks and state parks, the hill country, etc. We like all types of food and celebrations from all different cultures because we’re people from all different types of backgrounds. (Did you know there’s more Asians in Texas than there are people in Delaware?) Don’t let a select few public figures fool you on what it’s like here. And even in smaller areas, we use more modern tech than people give us credit for.

Don’t get me wrong: our state has plenty of things wrong with it. The bad things that make headlines are generally not something we’re proud of or really agree with (especially the younger generations.) But a majority of the 29ish million people here are good-hearted and treat each other like neighbors.

But going back to the story, if we’re talking about strictly rural areas, here’s the big misconceptions I’ve seen:

- There really aren’t that many fairs in small towns or big cities. They don't serve a purpose for cattle. Small towns have stockyards that have bidding every few weeks. Texas has way more festivals and what we call picnics (they’re more like carnivals) — even in towns with less than 1,000 people. At these events, you see more BBQ cook offs, car shows, dancing, and games.

- We have the State Fair in Dallas (https://bigtex.com/) and some rodeos throughout the year. They have some events like a stockyard, bull riding, and mutton busting (where kids ride sheep.) But many people watch those events as a precursor to the concerts (https://www.sarodeo.com/.)

- The biggest ranches in Texas — that can drive a substantial profit from ranching — are hundreds of thousands of acres and are run like (or managed by) corporations. Many of the ranches the size of the Walker Ranch are run as side jobs because cattle are expensive to raise and can’t be relied on for consistent income. Our family had seven one hundred-acre plots of land when I was growing up that was shared with my extended family. The work was few and far between — mostly helping build or mend fences which was a pain in the Texas heat. Many of the people who made a living in ranching took care of other people’s cattle because there wasn’t much to do on their own land, or people just loaned out their land to others who needed a place to put their cattle in order to keep their agriculture or livestock exemption for their land until they need to use it again. Otherwise, it takes years to get the ag exemption back.

- The reason the Walkers aren’t doing well financially is probably because of their outdated ranching practices (think several decades outdated.) We use ranch trucks or 4-wheelers when dealing with cattle in the pasture. The trucks are even registered differently with the state (you’ll usually see “Farm Truck” on the license plate.) It makes it easier to bring tools out with you and to keep the cattle rounded up if we need for them to be. When it’s time to sell cattle, we use trailers.

- Horses are even more expensive to maintain and need a lot of care, so they’re used more for recreational horseback riding. And most people that use them for that pay to have them held at a stable or equestrian center, cared for by the people that run those facilities, and end up riding or training their horses there. The ones that keep them and care for them on their own land really don’t use them for cattle — much less to herd cattle to a stockyard. It would exhaust the horses, block off entire roads, and take way too much time compared to driving.

- The people who were helping the Walkers who then bailed usually wouldn’t be seen often in small towns here. Reputation is everything, so if word gets out that you can’t be relied on, you probably won’t be hired elsewhere. Plus, many that help on the land are part of the family or good family friends that have known you for years. If a ranch can’t competitively pay the people, the ranch owners usually talk to them in advance as a way to say “We know you have to provide for your family,” and “We understand / no hard feelings if you can’t.” It’s also usually also temporary. The reputation thing goes both ways, so ideally those owners do (at least from what I’ve seen) treat their people well.

- People don’t really camp on their land in Texas. They go to state parks because we don’t have many forests (outside of said state parks.) Most rural areas have pastures and most people who own land like that have camp houses (which are like bigger cabins for hunting season.)

- Bears aren’t what cause issues here. We do have some black bears, but they’re rarely seen — they don’t really approach people. Hogs are more dangerous. They can be up to three feet tall and 400 pounds (https://tpwd.texas.gov/huntwild/wild/nuisance/feral_hogs/). They’re what parents warn their kids about if they’re in the country at night. They can mess you up if they charge at you and can total a car. A toll road put in from Austin to San Antonio — which was built without true knowledge of the area — didn’t account for barriers to keep hogs off the road. It’s led to crazy accidents in the area like this one: https://www.kxan.com/news/local/austin/update-hogs-on-sh-130-cause-18-wheeler-rollover-crash-thursday/. Other things that people have to watch out for when they’re in the country on foot are wild cats — like mountain lions or bobcats (http://texasnativecats.org/cats-of-texas/) and snakes. I may be missing some of the wildlife though...

- Did they mention a salmon from their fishing trip? I may have misread that, but I thought it said Liam threw one for the bear to chase. We don’t have salmon here: https://tpwd.texas.gov/landwater/water/aquaticspecies/inland.phtml. Liam must have picked one up from H-E-B. We also fish more at the coast or lakes than rivers. We use rivers for tubing: https://www.wideopencountry.com/tubing-in-texas/

- It was thoughtful for Maxwell to give his brother a motorbike, but the tires would likely not survive offroad terrain in Texas between soft ground due (like clay and expansive soil) in the Eastern part of the state, rocks in the Western part of the state, and thorns in underbrush (like huisache) that will mess up tires. That’s why we use 4-wheelers and trucks for offroading — their tires can handle more. We still use motorbikes and dirt bikes, but usually on roads or dirt courses.

- Cowboy hats really aren’t always great for working outside. It’s too damn hot here. We always did baseball caps because they breathe better and the sweat doesn’t get trapped. Most people where cowboy hats to special events — whether they’re from smaller towns or from the city and don’t really work outside. Smaller town people use them for things like weddings and town festivals, wearing a nicer button down and slacks or nice jeans. Both small town people and city people use them for festivals with a sleeveless top or loose button down and shorts. Both usually wear boots too for those occasions.

- Maxwell is going to die if he wears that that puffy jacket — the heat index can get high during the day here. Liam’s outfit looks more like what accordion players wear to festivals. Drake’s looks more on par, but he could use some color. Blue and red plaid — like our state flag — are much more common. Bertrand looks like an old time oil tycoon. Riley’s hat looks like it’s going to slip off the back of her head because it’s so big. Hana’s looks the most on point, but most people don’t bear their mid drift unless they’re at a festival. It’ll leave you with some major sun burns and weird tan lines. Plus loose shirts stay cooler in the heat, keep mosquitoes at bay, and block direct sun.

I really want to finish this game out, but I think I was expecting more of a royal take on the royal heir storyline. Plus these weird takes on what they think life is like in Texas...

[bomberqueen17]

Thanks well-wishers, the wifi connection here is so spotty i can’t reply to replies.

we had a perfectly safe but complicated journey-- and now we’re at our hotel in the Sultanahmet district, which is like, The Joint. It’s quite nice. Boring minutae of travel follows, because I made myself stay up until 9pm local time (having had >1 hr sleep on the plane overnight) and finally collapsed gratefully into bed only to awaken at midnight local time completely unable to fall back asleep. No fair!

 left at 3:00, hit traffic at the grand island bridge and also at the border and made it to the Niagara Falls bus terminal / train station with about five minutes to spare. Bus to Toronto was smooth and pleasant; traffic was shitty and weather was shitty and we just didn’t have to care, for less than 1/4 the cost of parking in Toronto. (Longterm parking is free at the Niagara Falls train station; we’ll see if the car is intact when we get back.) 

Took a taxi 1 mile through Toronto to the train station; taxi driver pointed out that the train is $15 each and cab fare to the airport is $30 so it would be all the same to just take the taxi the whole way. But the train was pleasant, and easy.

Checking in for the flight took a million years, then getting through security, and we had just enough time to sit down and order a meal and then realize that boarding started soon. But we opted not to hurry, since we were right next to the gate. Finally we went, and found that the passengers on our flight had begun to queue up at the gate. It being one of those giant planes, this meant there was a queue halfway down the terminal. So we joined it.

For no reason, we stood there an hour, and then they boarded us by rows so it didn’t matter that we’d been in a queue. For an hour. We could have been sitting that whole time, but we didn’t. And we couldn’t hear the gate announcements, queued like that.

I began to learn how Turkish people stand in queues, which is to say, aggressively. They love nothing more than to spend the entire time attempting to move up one space in the queue for no real reason and to no actual avail, while having a conversation through you with someone else. 

The flight was fine, but we were in a window and adjacent seat, so we couldn’t get up without disturbing a stranger, so we... didn’t. We just sat there unmoving for like 8 hours. And having stood in a queue in the airport terminal instead of wandering around and sitting meant that I hadn’t refilled my water bottle, so I got pretty goddamn dehydrated.

We got off the plane onto some buses that just sort of dumped us into an airport terminal, and from there we were herded straight into passport control, which was another 45 minutes of queueing. (Nicely, they unloaded our baggage during that time, so we got to just go get our luggage afterward.) As a bonus, enroute to the baggage claim there was a money-changing kiosk so I went and traded $50 for about 280 lire and it turns out that’s a shitload of money, so that has been nice to discover.

Visa-validated and legitimately entered into the country, we took our heavy-ass bags and got on the metro. Which is clean, efficient, well-run, nicely-maintained, and cheap as hell. Runs aboveground too so you know what’s going on.

From the metro we walked to our hotel, which, like. OK. We had to walk past the Blue Mosque and basically through Sultan Ahmet’s tomb to get there, and it’s staggeringly beautiful and we’re surrounded by tourists-- many of them Turkish, this is where Turks come to gawk at their own history, for good reason-- and we have these heavy-ass bags and the sidewalks are fucking hazards, all full of steps and open manhole covers and potted plants, so you have to walk in the street which is full of potted plants and people and cars, and this isn’t like NYC, people don’t obey walking lane rules, and our bags were heavy as fuck. 

But, we made it to the hotel. Finally put down our huge heavy bags, showered, drank some goddamned water, changed clothes. The hotel room has a little balcony and the very first thing I did was wash all our sweat-soaked traveling clothes in the bathroom sink, and set up the laundry line I’d brought and hang the clothes all out to dry on the balcony. 

from the balcony we can see the Bosporus. We also can see a twisty turny little neighborhood. There’s a courtyard where someone has a feeder out for pigeons, so there’s constant flapping and activity of some quite fancy pigeons.

And there is a resident cat population of at least fifteen in the street behind the hotel. Istanbul is absolutely chock-full of cats. The locals seem fond of them. Dogs too, to a lesser extent, roaming free-- I saw one with a collar, another with an ear tag like a cow-- but the cats are everywhere, and seem to be tame but not particularly to belong to anyone. 

The hotel has a rooftop terrace that you can access anytime. We went up there after dinner, waiting for it to be late enough to try to go to bed. Great views of the Bosporous, full of shipping traffic. Behind us, the sun was setting behind the Blue Mosque. And in front of us, going from a vague half-seen blob in the smog or clouds, the moon rose red as blood, and we spent an agreeable half an hour trying to figure out how to adequately take photographs of it, before giving up.

ok i might be sleepy enough to try to go back to sleep. it’s 2am local time, 7pm by my body’s clock, and i’ve had three hours of sleep since friday so really... you’d think.

Anyway, yesterday also was my birthday, so I’m 39 now, go me. :)

[defineifndef-blog]

Hakuna Matataland

I was never particularly tempted by Africa, thinking it’s just a desert with little food and little to see. Nothing of that turned true – variety of landscapes, comfortable temperature, numerous animals, friendly locals and clean public spaces can satisfy even the most critical tourist.

Honza tricked me into a holiday in Tanzania by showing the pictures of Zanzibar’s sandy beaches:

Can one say no? :) As a compromise, we decided to spend a week on the continental part for a safari, and then chill in Zanzibar for another week – which I would say is the perfect mix for a comprehensive holiday.

After few hard months at work, we both just slept through the 14 hours of flight with a quick lunch in Istanbul, and woke up in Dar es Salaam - the former capital and largest city in Tanzania. Over the last century, Dar es Salaam has grown from a sleepy fishing village into a metropolis of over four million people. Straddling some of the most important sea routes in the world, it is East Africa’s second-busiest port and Tanzania’s commercial hub. Despite this, and its notorious traffic jams, the city has managed to maintain a low-key down-to-earth feel.

We stayed at the local Backpacker’s hostel owned by a distant acquaintance of ours, who did  a city tour for us. It was pretty much just about walking around in a crowded slum-like city center, sweating at every step. The highlight was a metro trip (metro meaning bus run on tracks) and a visit to the local fish market. Boiling hot and rich in smells, it is divided into two main sections, with fresh and less-fresh fried fish sold to the local shoppers and restaurants.

Luckily, we escaped from Dar just after a day, and flew to Arusha, the gateway to the popular Northern Safari Circuit. Nested at the foot of Mount Meru (the view on which we enjoyed from the terrace of our guesthouse with a glass of wine), it is a lush green town as opposed to the dirty Dar. From some points of the area, you could even (theoretically) see Kilimanjaro - but it was always hiding in the clouds.

Here, we had a local buddy called Colman, who helped us book the safari, took us to the dinner with his friends and organized a trip to the Hot Springs (also with five of his friends). This is a fantastic oasis in the middle of nowhere. The term "Hot" in hot spring is used quite  loosely though - the water was warm at best, but very clean. The fishes munch at the feet all over, just like at the Thai massage places. There is a swinging rope to either embarrass yourself (me) or show off your monkey skills (Honza), and a little stall with suspicious yet nutritious French fries omelet.  

Next day, we took off for the adventure! The first destination was Tarangire National Park in northern Tanzania. Hump-backed wildebeest, kongoni with long ears and short horns reminiscent of a samurai headdress, hulking buffalo, buxom zebra, delicate gazelles, watchful eland, ostrich outriders, fringe-eared oryx and an array of predators move in and out of the park in different directions at different times. Starting with happy shouting when we see one lonely animal here and there, we were soon used to the herds of zebras and the whole elephant families gathering in central riverbeds. One more amazing sight were the giant baobab trees, medusa-headed monoliths often thousands of years old, making the scenery picturesque.

The first night out was in an African igloo at Panorama lodge. It has a stunning view on the savanna, and a storm was coming around in the evening. We enjoyed a dinner cooked by the group’s chef, scaring the lizards away from our plates.

We were in a group of five: two of us, a hot 40-y.o. American, and two German-Italian guys, in an indestructible Land Rover Defender, led by an amazingly calm guide Abdul, who’s been doing this for over 15 years. His personal lifetime safary experience was when a family of lions were passing through the camp and a baby got stuck in his tent, crying for mommy’s help. Abdul also helped me get my own personal lifetime experience of getting out of the jeep to pee in the middle of the savanna (strictly prohibited and deadly) few kms away from the lions.

The next park was THE Serengeti. With nature ranging from apparently limitless grass plains in the south, fertilized by volcanic ash, to wooded highlands in the east, crossed by rivers, it is a home to hundreds of inhabitants.

Among them, the principal actors are blue wildebeest and their spectacular annual Great Migration, “The Greatest Show Of The Natural World”, during which they trek in circumambulation for 3200 kilometers from northern Tanzania to south-western Kenya and back again. In turn, their trips affects other creatures: lions, jackals, hyenas, leopards and cheetahs prey on the migrating and resident herds. Vultures subsist on the predators’ leavings.

The herds of zebras were mainly turning their butts on us, but still were magical. Over the course of the safari, the amount of zebras around us was growing exponentially, until on the last night in Ngorongoro camp our tents were surrounded by them, walking between the tents. This was quite nice, as opposed to SImba camp in Ngorongoro, with hyenas swinging around and laughing right in your ear at night.

Ngorongoro is a park located in a volcano crater, with the diameter of over 20 km. This is a whole magical world, with own ecosystem, salty lakes, humid jungle forests and green swamps. The camp was based on the top of it, and at dawn we were descending for about 2 kms down on a dusty narrow road, speechless from the views unfolding ahead of us.

We’ve seen graceful flamingos, supposedly pink because of the shrimps they eat. 

The swamps were full of grey dirty rocks that turned out to be sleepy hippos, nocturnal thus not giving a damn about the birds jumping all over them.

As for me, if you just have one day, Ngorongoro is the most magical place to see on the mainland.

Tired and dusty, we returned to Arusha to fly to Zanzibar on the next morning. Local airlines are truly a miracle, where ‘hakuna matata’ principle rules over any regulations. The boarding passes are issued in handwriting, and our surnames were (understandably) way too difficult for the check-in guy – so we ended up with two pieces of paper stating ‘Jan’ and ‘Daria’, and a delay of just two hours.

The plane had about 10 seats, so it’s almost as if you had a luxury private jet. By the way, there’re at least three different airlines, with ticket price varying from roughly 70 to 370$ for the same route – we dared to go with the cheapest and it was absolutely fine.

Zanzibar lies on the east coast of Africa, and the name officially refers to the archipelago that includes Unguja and Pemba, surrounded by about 50 smaller ones. As we were explained, when mere silly Europeans say ‘Zanzibar’, they usually refer to the Island of Unguja, separated from mainland Tanzania by a shallow channel 37 km across at its narrowest point.

Zanzibaris have a long history of religious tolerance and although the islands are 95% Muslim, alcohol and tobacco are available (if you search for it: not in every hotel, but pretty much in every bar). The tourists are many, and they are requested to show consideration for the Zanzibari culture by wearing long skirts/pants and covering the shoulders.  

For many centuries there was intense seaborne trading activity between Asia and Africa, and Zanzibar was a key African port, hosting and blending the culture of Germans, Indians and Omanis. It used to be a colony of Oman for quite a while, and has become an official part of Tanzania quite recently, in 20th century. The name of the country itself is actually made up from two words: ‘Tanganyika’, the name of the continental part, and ‘Zanzibar’.

Zanzibar has great symbolic importance in the suppression of slavery, since it was one of the main slave-trading ports in East Africa. Interestingly, the majority of slaves were female concubines, whose children had full inheritance rights, same as the marital children of the master family. After a concubine gave master a child, it was impossible to sell either – which I can imagine resulted in an interesting blend of relationships and a blurred perception of social stratification.

The last but not the least important historical fact is that their beloved Princess Salme, who published an extensive memoir on her life in Zanzibar, looked like Putin. So we bonded with the locals immediately.

The capital and the main port is Stone Town, home of Freddy Mercury (Muslim locals do not seem especially proud of it, though). 

The historic center is essentially a labyrinth of narrow winding streets, all leading to the sea cost, where local children play and swim right between the boats. 

The city has a very calm vibe, and for the first time in Tanzania I felt truly comfortable and relaxed strolling around. One drawback is that obviously the prices are rather European – but fresh juices and local foods are worth it.

Zanzibar is sometimes called ‘the Spice Island’, as the agriculture is focused on growing spices. We decided to explore on of the local spice farms. Turns out, pretty much everything we know - cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, cardamom – grows on trees and bushes. Africans do not really use much spices for food, which is rather flat in terms of taste – but their traditional medicine is all about spices. Eating cumin powder helps with ‘running stomach’ (tested, proven personally), nutmeg gives women ‘romantic eyes’ and enhances men’s power (according to an alternative source, it can keep you high for up to 24 hours), and eating henna roots that cause internal bleeding has been an abortion solution for the most conservative Muslim communities for centuries.

After the farm tour, we did a local cooking class – fish curry, spinach mash and coconut milk dumplings with cardamom, all cooked right on the floor and eaten mostly by the local village kids attracted by the smell. If we did not see that fish on the local market, I suspect we might’ve enjoyed it more. But the dumplings were dope, and burnt cane sugar with cardamom is something you should all try!

After Stone Town, we headed to the north-east of the island for beaches and dives. Our first stop for few days was Kiwengwa, which, funnily enough, turned out to be an Italian enclave. Somehow the first tourists that started coming to Zanzibar about 10 years ago were Italians, and all the locals started learning the language. More than a half of the beach cafes were serving pizza, pasta and Prosecco (not that I mind!), and local kids were chasing us on the beach shouting ‘Ciao bella’.  The beach souvenir stalls with coconut carvings and textile bags had the proud names like ‘Dolce & Gabanna” and “Fendi”.

The sea life was absolutely stunning. We skipped the crowded dolphin-chasing tours and went diving and snorkeling to the tiny neighboring islands. My personal favorite was a trumpet fish:

And apart from that, there was absolutely nothing to do in the north-east, as there was no wind and no waves. I was counting with sunbathing all day long, however, the tan plan was usually fulfilled in the first 15 minutes at the beach, even with SPF 50: African sun is truly severe. Chilling in the shadow of hotel terrace was complicated by the hardworking waiters, who came every 10 minutes with a call-center dialogue script: “-Hello! -…. ‘How are you?’ ‘… ‘How is your day?’ … ‘Is everything okay?’… ‘Would you like something else?’ ‘… and a killer follow-up ‘Why not?’. When once I dared not to order a drink, one of the waiters literally chuckled, loudly expressing her contempt for my refusal to support the local economy. 

After three days, we ran away to Paje, a more democratic party village on the east coast. There was a tiny bit of wind, still not enough for surfing but sufficient for trying out a kite. This kept Honza busy for another two days, while I was swallowing Agatha Christie’s novel in batches. A sport that needs independent coordination of legs and hands did not look very promising for me. And the beaches were just amazing 24/7.

When it was time to go home, we took a ferry from Stone Town to Dar – and despite many negative reviews, I would recommend it to everyone. Reasonably priced (35$), big, clean and air conditioned, it reaches Dar in just about 2 hours – and then you can uber to the airport. Just be aware that local drivers aren‘t big believers in driving after they accept the order – they usually just stay where they are, apparently waiting for you to come to them. It took us just half an hour with 2 phones to actually get a car – but it was about 30 times cheaper than a taxi for an hour’s drive.

A lonely plastic pine tree in the departure hall reminded us that we’re flying back for snow and Christmas. This is nothing personal for Africa, but it was amazing to be back, with the reliable electricity supply, drinkable tap water and no need to bargain over everything.

 Some of the practical tips:

·         Essential vaccinations are just two – typhus ans yellow fever, but you must have a vaccination certificate for border crossing.

·         If customs officers go away for half an hour with all your documents – hakuna matata. Sooner or later they’ll come back, and even if you end up with few local loans on your name, the notifications are not likely to arrive overseas.

·         Mosquito net was available everywhere we stayed, but we still took one with us just in case. You’ll be bitten anyway, even with the net and repellent – but the levels of malaria are very high on the continental part.

·         If you take Malarone in the evenings together with red wine, your dreams will be vivid and complex.

·         If going in the low season as we did, you should definitely book a safari right on the spot in Arusha. This is more than twice cheaper than booking online in advance, and options are plenty. I’ll be happy to refer our local buddy to you :)

·         Make sure you go to the bathroom before sleep when you stay in safari camps to avoid unpleasant meeting with hyenas. Same stands for game drives, when you are technically not allowed to leave the car. Skipping on this results in the scariest two minutes of your life, especially if someone in the crew decided to fool you shouting „Look, lion is coming!“ while you’re out.

·         By law visitors have to settle bills in US dollars rather than shillings, but no one really cares. It;s best to bring USD and withdraw some local currency just in case. When paying in USD, you can (should) bargain over the exhange rate!

·         As usual – avoid raw foods, veggies and fruit that you do not peel yourself, and make sure your water bottles are sealed. Valid even for the five-star hotels. If anything, chew cumin.

·         Chat with the locals, smile and hakuna matata! Once you let it all go, Africa is amazing!

[rustyhyde]

D-Day and Beyond June 9th

I’m really looking forward to today.  We’re going to Disney-Paris!!!!  The entire gang was psych’d and ready to get their Micky going!

Last night we searched the route out.  Disney Paris is about an hour by Train from the house.  The train station is a short five minute metro (subway) ride. Great. 

Next morning everyone had the usual “eat anything in the cabinets” for breakfast. I had a baguette with cheese and ham.  I think Andy ate a small child from next door. Cheryl ate plain pasta.  Liz, Hannah, and Max had the more traditional and shall I say boring, eggs for breakfast.  During breakfast we semi-planned the day.  Gates open at 10:00 so, let get there a bit early. plan to leave the house at 8:30. Oops already missed that deadline. Out the door by nine. Because Cheryl was nursing a bad hip, they took an Uber to the train station and said they would meet us at Disney. By the way, Cheryl is going to have hip surgery the week after we get back. What a trooper!

The rest of us walk to the Metro and ride to the station.  Unfortunately for Emma since she speaks french,we ask her to do all the mundane tasks like buying the tickets.  After about a ten minute discussion, Liz and Emma come out and say the ticket lady had a hard time understanding Emma and that we couldn’t get there the way we thought.  We had to ride the Metro to a different train station and go from there. None of that made sense. 1) Emma speaks flawless french. All the locals remark on how she speaks without an american accent.  2) I can read a rail map. It says we can get there from here.  Anyway, we go with the ticket agent plan, hop the metro to another station and make the ride to Disney.

The train ride was pleasant, though we did go thru some of the seedier parts of Paris, places I would not want to walk around.  When we pulled in the station, we immediately saw the lines to get in.  As it turns out, its the security line with metal detectors and the whole smear.  We talked with Ron and Cheryl, they beat us there by 30 minutes. They took the train I wanted to take.  I think the ticket girl was having a bit of fun with us Americans.  Ron and Cheryl made it thru security and as was at the customer service desk.

Because of her hip, Cheryl was going to get a wheelchair and hopefully a handicap pass, the “golden ticket”. If she get the handicap pass, her and four other can go to the head of the line at all the rides. Wow!

While inching forward thru the security queues, we notice the occasional person walk up to what appears to be another security check point off to our right.  They would do the security dance and go thru. I’m thinking it might be a VIP security line. After a few minutes of moving only inches forward, I asked Hannah to drop out of line and head over to that security point and see if a kid in a stroller would get us through security.  Hannah was reluctant considering how long the line was. Liz and Emma said they would hold our place.  Hannah, Max and I went over there.  The security agent, waved us over, didn’t say a word. He inspected us and waved us thru. Liz, Emma , and Andy make a dash over and cleared security.  As it turns out, it was a normal security checkpoint., just nobody queued up to it.  Again, we humans do have a herd mentality.

Even though we cleared security, we had to go thru the main park entrance. With tickets in hand we inched forward. I will say this about the french, they’ve never met a queue line they wouldn’t jump.  It seems its a sport in France to cut in line.  If that were to happen in the States, they would have been dragged out of the line and beaten to death with a stuffed Mickey Mouse.

Once thru the line we got to eye main street.  This Disney has a weird look to it.  Its as if it’s a 5/8 scale version of the one in Florida.  Disney Paris is smaller, tighter, and shorter. The same look of Disney World, only in miniature.

Inside, we hook up with Ron and Cheryl.  They did it. They got the Golden Ticket!!!

First thing we did was do the paratrooper ride.  Max was excited. We strolled up to the front, waved out golden ticket and was ushered to the front of the line.  We rode and had a great time.  Max squealed with delight.

Cheryl, below, at the photo-op place.

Next stop, Ttower of Terror.  That is my all time favorite ride at Disney. I’m hoping this one with thrill me as well.  Again, with the magic ticket, we went to the head of the line.  Once in, the ride was familiar but smaller.  I will give a shout out to the ride attendant, she spoke both french and english. Every instruction was given in french then english.  Once in the ride I was expecting the elevator ride to be crazy.  It turns out to be about half the ride of the one in Flordia, fun , but not crazy fun. So, instead of Tower of Terror, it should be called “Bump of Mild Discomfort”.

Here’s Emma in front of the Bump of Mild Discomfort.

I will say the ride that did impress us was Ratatouille. It was an amazing combination of physical and technological sophistication.  You really felt like a mouse running thru a kitchen.

We took the required pictures at the castle.

Lunch was an an adventure. At Disney Paris they have a centrallized area for the restaurants.  Its more or less like a food court in a mall.  All the restaurants line the walls, with seating in the middle. Being good southerners, we wanted to eat lunch early.  So around 11:00 we make our way over to the food court.  With such a large group we thought it prudent to snag a large table. We found one, and Emma, Andy and I went for food.  The lines were incredibly long even at 11:00. We jumped into the shortest one. The lunch choices were your standard Disney Fare except more fruit options. Nice.  After, no kidding, 45 minutes in line, we get our food and sit down.  As usual something was missed on the order but we didn’t want to go back and deal with it. We just split what we had amongst us. By this point, there was nowhere to sit. People were piling on top of garbage cans, sitting in the aisles. The way everyone was looking you’d thought, we were at a red cross relief center.   Within an hour we noticed no lines for food.  I thought, “Hey, I’ll get another order of Fries”. I walk up and I now know why there were no lines. The restaurants closed at 1:00.  They have a 2 hour window to eat lunch?! How bizarre, how French. That would never fly in Florida.  

After Lunch we did some thrill rides.  Well, actually not thrill rides, more like moderately bumpy rides. Again the scale is is smaller than Disney World.

We decided to call it a day at around 4:00, with the goal of eating dinner around 6:00..  We load up and head out. As usual, the tickets we bought would not open the turnstiles to the train gate. After several tries, Liz and company head back to the ticket office. Fortunately, the ticket person said that the tickets get demagnetized quite easily and re-issued us the tickets.  We board and we’re off.  After the train and metro rides, we’re walking back and decide to eat out. Everyone is tired and didn’t feel the need to cook. We stop at a rather upscale, restaurant and ask for a table for 6. The maitre d smiled and lead us to a table.  He didn’t see Hannah and Max with a stroller. Once he saw them, the color and smile drained off his face.  He made it clear he didn’t want the “baby” in his restaurant. Being arrogant Americans, we sat down anyway. The waiter had a pained look on his face, thinking he has to deal with us Americans.  Emma began talking to him in french and suddenly he was all smiles.  Service went well, the food was great. We pulled back from the brink of disaster.  The Maitre d would walk by with a snear. We answered with a pleasant, condescending smile that said “bite me”.

After we dinner, it was short walk back to the house.  We sat down at the table, played Unno for and hour and retired to our separate chambers. Quite french.

[emotten]

I Went on Vacation

I spent the past weekend on the east coast with my sister, visiting Boston and Salem for my first time.  Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I set foot in a new place and didn’t feel like an outsider.  This is the first time I can remember arriving somewhere foreign and feeling totally at home.  I fell in love with Boston, and I am already missing it more than I ever thought I would.  There’s something about the east coast that feels like home to me.

I had an incredible couple of days, saw and did so much, and had a ton of fun with my sister, Aubrey.  She lives in Key West (and I live in Michigan), so we don’t get to spend much time together.  I’m so grateful for the relationship we have and for the time we were able to spend with each other this past weekend.

If you want to read more about my trip and see some photos, keep reading!

Thursday night, I stayed in South Lyon so I wouldn’t have such a long drive to the airport.  And although it was pitch black and pouring rain, I made it there before midnight.  (Super big thank-you to the Heinrich’s for letting me crash!)  I was up at 4:00am and on my way to Detroit Metro, bright eyed and bushy tailed, to navigate my way through the construction-ravaged airport until I found myself in a parking garage.  I didn’t care how much it would cost or how far I would have to walk, I just wanted to be out of the car and on the airplane.  I fumbled my way to a shuttle, was herded through security, and found my gate without any real problems.  I finally boarded around 7:00am and the flight departed shortly after.

(here’s the plane I took from Detroit to Boston)

(bye-bye, Michigan)

Here’s the thing about flying; I don’t necessarily like it.  The more I do it, however, the less I hate it.  The worst part for me is the initial take-off, and of course the landing.  But being able to look out the window and watch the world fall away, soaring between cloud layers 30,000 feet above land... there’s something about it that is so freeing. 

(above the clouds)

I landed in Boston around 9:30am - short flight!  I found my way through the airport rather easily and made my way outside to grab a cab to the hotel.  My sister booked us a room at the Yotel Boston, which has only been open for about 8 weeks.  Check-in wasn’t until 3:00pm, so I decided to go out and explore Boston on foot.  

I don’t know what I was expecting out of the scenery or the people or the weather, but I was absolutely blown away by how comfortable and happy I felt as I walked.  I found myself down by the water, near the Children’s Museum and the Boston Tea Party Museum, and just could not stop smiling.  I walked some more, mesmerized by the history and the architecture, falling more in love with this city with every step I took and every corner I turned.  

(buildings across the harbor)

(Harborwalk and a peek at the Boston Tea Party Museum and Ship)

The weather was perfect; warm, with a nice steady breeze.  It was cloudy, but I didn’t care.  Everything was beautiful.  After walking for a while, I started to feel a little tired and overwhelmed, so I went into a quiet cafe, got a coffee, and read some of my book to decompress and wind down a bit from the excitement of exploring a new city.  

(the book is “Writing Down the Bones” by Natalie Goldberg)

By this time, I’d made the conscious decision that I was going to need to buy a pack of cigarettes.  (I know, I know.  I quit a long time ago, but they help when I feel anxious, so I caved.  I’m back off the wagon now, promise.)  I found a 7-11 just a few blocks down the street and bought a pack, and a lighter, then headed back toward the hotel to wait for my sister’s ferry to get in from the Cape.

Aubrey arrived at our hotel around 1:00pm.  We had the concierge team hold our luggage and immediately went in search of some food.  We ended up at a place called Brandy Pete’s, where we got a vegetarian platter (salad, olives, peppers, hummus, pita, veggies, etc.) and a cup of clam chowder.  Oh, and a beer, of course.  

After lunch, it was back to the hotel to check in, and our room was amazing.  If you haven’t heard of Yotel, you should really look it up.  It’s all very techy and their main focus is on efficiency.  Unfortunately, I didn’t take a lot of pictures of the hotel or our room, but you can see the cool amenities on their website.  We relaxed, unpacked, changed our clothes, and got ready for the rest of our night exploring Boston.

First, we headed down to the Tea Party Museum for the 5:00pm tour.  But it wasn’t just a tour; it was an interactive exhibit and reenactment, and it was amazing.  The actors were so funny and nice, and the exhibit was educational without being boring.  We toured a ship, got to throw some “tea” into the harbor, and were given roles to play at the town meeting.  I even had a line to read, and that was really fun.  At the end, we watched a short film that was actually quite emotional.  I stopped in the gift shop on the way out to buy a tiny snow globe that contained Paul Revere on horseback.  Unfortunately, photos were not permitted through the majority of the museum, but I didn’t mind.  

(my sister with Samuel Adams)

(the museum from the side)

After reluctantly leaving 1773 and the museum behind, we walked around Quincy Market and found ourselves at Ned Devine’s Irish Pub for a beer.  As we continued to explore the area, it started to rain, so we ran to yet another 7-11 and bought a bottle of wine to drink at the hotel.  Before getting back, however, we stopped at Shake Shack (right next door to our hotel) for burgers and fries.  We ate, drank wine, and relaxed until falling asleep.

(just some of the gorgeous architecture)

(this statue’s got swagger)

(this city is calling my name)

(this wine is not very good, fyi)

On day 2, I woke up and took a shower in the coolest shower ever, got some coffees from the lobby, and my sister and i got ready for another day of walking, exploring, and getting tears in our eyes.  We were headed to Salem.  

On our way to North Station, we passed the Holocaust memorial.  There are no words to describe the feeling you get when walking through the memorial - towers of glass printed with thousands of numbers, not names, memorializing those who were unjustly killed.  There were flowers laid all over along the walkway, which was mostly made of grates through which steam poured constantly.  It was an out of body experience to say the least.

(just one of the many towers of glass - you can see how small the print is, how many numbers are listed. it’s truly heartbreaking.)

(here I am, trying to keep my shit together as I read quotes from Holocaust survivors printed on the glass - you can see all the steam coming up from the ground.)

(flowers and other offerings lined the memorial)

We finally made it to North Station, where we hopped on an express bus to Salem.  We didn’t necessarily have a plan for when we arrived, but I had purchased two tickets to tour the Witch House at 1:30pm, so we had some time to explore before and after.  We left the station and just kind of started walking.  

(this church was the first thing that caught our eye as we wandered - No Place for Hate!)

Since we’d both skipped breakfast yet again, we needed lunch first before walking all day.  We found our way to the Howling Wolf Taqueria where we had some of the most amazing nachos ever, and a couple drinks.

(before we demolished it, along with Aubrey’s jalapeño margarita)

(after the carnage.... we were hungry!)

While we were inside the restaurant, a parade began in the streets.  We weren’t 100% sure what it was for, but it seemed like a peaceful demonstration, preaching love and peace and unity.  It was heartwarming to see, knowing that at the very same time, in Boston, some assholes were throwing together a “free speech rally.”  (However, upon returning to Boston that night, we discovered that counter-protesters outnumbered the white supremacists and the rally was over before anyone could get hurt.  So thankful for that!)  Finally, we finished our drinks and continued on our walking journey.  

(a memorial we passed on our way to the Witch House)

We arrived at the Witch House right on time, and began our self-guided tour throughout the entire house.  It was yet another moment in which I felt incredibly emotional.  The pressure in my chest remained all throughout the house, and didn’t go away until we’d vacated the property.  I can only chalk this sensation up to my heightened sense of intuition and empathy, and I felt like I could really feel the history in the walls and furniture, and just in the atmosphere of the house itself.  It was amazing, informational, and everything I’d ever dreamed it would be.  This was the thing I was looking forward to the most, and it did not disappoint.

(here’s me being a goober under the sign)

(the entrance to the house)

(panoramic view of the children’s room, courtesy of Aubrey)

When we left the Witch House, we had no specific destination.  So, we just wandered some more.  And we ended up finding all of the best things.

(the Bewitched Statue)

(a cute little street marketplace, with live music)

(a memorial for Bridget Bishop, the first of many to be accused and punished for practicing witchcraft)

(a very old cemetery, with tons of headstones and even some tombs)

(we didn’t go inside the museum, but the outside was pretty enough)

(admiring the stick work)

(we clearly geeked out over the stick work)

(a beautiful Goddess statue and book of shadows in a witch shop window)

Honestly, we saw so many amazing things that day in Salem, it’s overwhelming.  We truly got the best out of our day.  While we weren’t able to get a reading from Lorelai, a local psychic, we got to meet her for minute and walk around her shop.  Everything was vibrating with energy.  We went into another shop near the wax museum and I got my sister to play with a pendulum.  Never thought I’d see her dowsing, but she was into it!  Score one for me. ;)

To rest our weary legs, we went searching for a bar, and I was beyond relieved when we found Brothers Taverna and a pitcher of PBR.  Our bartender was very friendly and it was a great place to relax and gear up for the walk back out of town.  On our way to the station, we stopped at HausWitch and I grabbed a little amethyst cluster to remember Salem by.  

We were exhausted by the time we got back to Boston, (shout out to our Uber driver, Angel - he was hilarious) and in desperate need of more food.  We tried out the rooftop bar and restaurant at our hotel, but the food did not seem like it was worth the money.  And after a $15.00 mojito, I was ready to get the hell out of the swanky joint and hit something a little more our speed for dinner.  So we went a few blocks down to Yo! Sushi.  And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve ever had eating sushi.  There was a conveyor belt that went around the whole counter where you sat to eat, and you just grabbed what you wanted.  The plate colors indicated the price range.  It was easy, fun, interactive, and most importantly, delicious.

(our dessert... I was so full that my sister was fortunate enough to eat the majority of it, but it was soooo so good)

Before heading back to the hotel for the night, we went back down by the water to get one last look at our new favorite city in the dark.  

Nothing could have prepared me for how quickly I fell in love with Boston, and I am so happy that I got the chance to explore such a wonderful city with my big sister.  

(I think that expression says it all - I love you, Boston, and I’ll be back soon)

(I was sweaty and tired, and the shadows were not good to me, but I still love this pic - one of the few of the two of us together this weekend)

(just a little bedtime selfie, saying goodnight to Boston one last time while my sister snores next to me)

Sunday was our final day in Boston - the day of travel.  We started our morning with a few hours of stress as we both scrambled to access held funds in order to travel and eat that day.  Let me tell you, traveling on a budget is hard work, but we somehow pulled it off.  After everything that could possibly go wrong absolutely went wrong, we gave up and grabbed an Uber to the airport (shout out to Lorraine - best music selection of any Uber I’ve ever been in).

Once we arrived at the airport and dodged a few more curveballs that life had to throw at us, the dust settled and we got ourselves more nachos and drinks at Todd English’s Bonfire.  My sister and I watched Bad Moms on her kindle while we waited, and then her flight left and I waited for a few hours until my own flight began boarding later that night.  I mostly just watched Ozark on my phone or wandered around listening to podcasts.  Then, I boarded my flight back to Detroit and pouted out the window as Boston drifted away into darkness and lights.  

I landed in Detroit super late at night, and had one hell of a time figuring out where I had parked my car.  With the help of multiple desk agents, shuttle drivers, and pilots, I found my way back to my car and nearly cried at the sight of it.  I made my way out of the airport and back onto the highway to drive three hours back home.  I almost ran out of gas and had to pull off near Grand Rapids to fuel up before finishing the remaining 45 minutes of my drive to Muskegon.

When I came inside and went up to bed, my dog, Loomis, promptly smothered me with his entire giant body and would not let me move.  I was okay with it.  I missed him, too.  I woke up in the morning to another smiling face - my daughter, Olivia was ready to join the snuggle party, too.  I gave her the snow globe I’d bought at the Tea Party Museum, and showed her the amethyst cluster and all the photos I had taken over the weekend.  Then, we made pinhole boxes so we could watch the eclipse without going blind. 

All in all, I’d say this was an incredibly successful weekend, topped off with a rare celestial phenomenon and a quiet day of relaxation. 

I can’t wait to return to Boston, and Salem, and explore even more of the amazing east coast.  Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed re-living this journey with me!  Now, back to reality - work and class and writing. 

[vexedbanana-blog]

Day 18 // Paris

Our last day of the trip started with a metro ride where once again, half the group got off the metro at the wrong stop and half the group stayed on the metro. Note to self, maneuvering the metro with 21 people is as easy as herding cats. Eventually we made it to McDonald’s, our destination. Now you may be thinking, “what the heck, why are you going to McDonald’s on a French gastronomy trip?!” worry not, I thought exactly the same thing. Upon arriving we met with the VP of McDonalds for France. She was surprisingly young I thought. She explained to us the difference between American and French McDonalds, which is a lot more than you might expect. I don’t know about everyone else but I see McDonalds as a shitty company that doesn't care about the earth, doesn't care about the quality of the food they serve, and doesn't care about the animals they use to make their products. I see them as an all around shit company. I assumed this opinion of mine applied to all McDonalds everywhere, but it was to my surprise that French McDonalds is a lot different from American McDonalds. The VP gave a presentation explaining how they came into France and no one wanted them there. The people of France saw them as shit American food. They had to struggle to make it and they had to go above and beyond to become accepted by the people of France. She explained that they have certifications on mostly all of their products. They use the equivalent of USDA Choice grade meats. Their eggs come from free-range chickens, the coffee they use is certified rainforest safe, and they use the highest quality dairy. They also realized that McDonalds has a huge carbon footprint so they diversified the meat choices on their menu and reduced their footprint by 43%. They instilled a program where children have the option to pick a book instead of a toy because there is a direct correlation between literacy levels and violence, the more a child reads, the less violent they are. They have a program where they sponsor young farmers in how to farm and then sign a 4 year contract with them to source from their farm. They are giving back to their community, caring what their customers eat, and caring about the process in which the raw ingredients become their products. And this is all because the people of France demanded it. I didn’t feel guilty eating French McDonalds, if I lived there, I could see it being something I could enjoy every once and awhile. Imagine how much better American McDonalds could be if only the people demanded it to be a better company. After the presentation we got to try their products. Hands down the best McDonalds I've ever had. This was one of my favorite parts of the trip mostly because it forced me to be uncomfortable and wrong about my opinion of McDonalds at a global company. While America is still shit, at least France isn't.

After this we were split up into groups, wine, cheese, bread, fruits, and meat. Our mission was to find and purchase products in our selected category before we made it to the Eiffel tower where we were having a picnic. On our way to the tower, we found the original ghost busters car! What a fun find! We made it to the Eiffel tower with 4/5 groups not finding any of their product to we headed to a local market by the tower. Everyone got what we needed and we headed to the huge park surrounding the tower for the picnic. It was so bittersweet because it was the conclusion to an amazing trip, but it also meant it was over and we all had to say goodbye to amazing friends we had made. Professor Covan interview all of us asking what our favorite parts were and what the trip could do without. It was hard for me to answer either of those questions because everything was amazing and life changing in its own way. I will never forget the amazing people I met and the places we went on this trip. Everyone kept telling us how lucky we were to embark on a trip like this, and I didn’t truly understand what they meant until it was over. Thank you to everyone who supported me and made this trip possible! Traveling makes us better citizens of the world and I believe we should travel every chance we get!

“Of all the books in the world, the best stories are found between the pages of a passport”