I’m never going to be disabled. I’m sick of being so healthy.

Sometimes you are blessed with experiences never thought possible. After walking around the city of Wroclaw, where my father attended university, my cousin Michael took us to this weirdly hidden student bar on a street you would never find unless you had been taken there before. Only one thing was on the menu; milkshakes. I am weary of things touted as the “best  ___ ever”. So when my cousins exclaimed that this cantina concocts the best milkshakes ever, I was a little skeptical. My doubts were quickly squashed after the chocolate milkshake I had ordered was delivered to our take. It was probably the most delicious drink I have ever had. It was unabashedly magnificent. The ice cream was almost fluffy as it ventured up the straw and landed in my mouth in what could only be described as an eruption of the chocolate ice cream and milk fission that could only have been created by…wait, this is getting kinda gay. Needless to say that now, without hesitation, I would back my cousins claims of “best milkshake ever”.

If this milkshake called all the boys to the yard I would definitely oblige.

The student pub is on the right side of the above picture; if only I remembered what it was called. Love lost yet again.

Here’s to hoping that our paths will cross again. One day.

One day soon, indeed.

Seb no function beer well without.

Back in August of this year I had the good fortune to be able to travel to Poland for a few weeks, somewhere I hadn’t been since 1993. Back in the day I was but a young lad who was unaware of the majesty of the effervescent (most of the time) amber liquid we all know as beer. Delicious, heavenly, holy-shit-I-was-so-wasted-on-that-shit beer. Somewhat predictably increasing in age one year at a time since then, I have reached an age where I am able to appreciate the simple pleasures of jet setting that previously had gone overlooked.

I am in flavour country.

I was in Poland for about three and a half weeks, so I planned to consume as many libations as my liver would allow. I also had the foresight to document each brand of beer I would come to imbibe. I am also lucky enough to have cousins who do not fear the drink and were more than happy to recommend their favourites, especially one, Piotr, who was not passed offering me drink before noon on several occasions (I’m pretty sure he was joking, but there is a part of me that senses that a part of him was serious).

Beer, in general, is astonishingly cheap in Poland. Of course, the cost is relative to the cost of living in the country, but for a foreigner such as myself, I was giddy at paying 2.5zl (which is about $1CAD) for a half litre can, or 6zl (just over $2ish) for a pint at a restaurant. Let’s get started then! [note: I couldn't find the correct characters for some of the names of the beers, so their spelling is approximate, also I attempted to make notes of each beer I had, but sometimes my mind lapsed and forgot.]

Ksiac – The first beer I had after we arrived in Krakow. A little bite on the first sip with a smooth finish. There was hardly any after taste, which might be good while eating as not to obstruct your palate (being a food critic must be FUN!)

Żywiec - This brand is like the Budweiser of Poland, except it doesn’t taste like piss. It is also widely available in Canada, though only at the LCBO and only in 500 mL bottles (the big boy and girl size!). It’s nothing too exceptional, a slight bitter taste and, as the previously mentioned beer, not too strong of a finish.

Harnas - Didn’t make a note of this one; must not have been a big deal.

It's made from Karl Marx's tears. That dude cried a lot.

Paulaner – This is actually a German beer that I had in the ski-resort town of Zakopane. It is in a similar vein of beer as Hoegaarden, being a wheat beer, but with less of a citrus-y taste. It actually had a bit of sourness to it, which one might describe as vinegary.

Okocim - This wasn’t one of the memorable ones. I noted it as “not very flavourful” and “almost bland/watery”. Hey, you can’t have winners without losers.

Tyskie – If you like Moosehead you will probably like this beer. It has a similar flavour, as pointed out by my brother, only on the slightly lighter side.

Specjal - I understand why people drink Lakeport or Laker or whatever other discount brew available; it’s cheap and it gets you drunk. But why would you subject yourself to such torture? Why not spend another $5 and get a two-four of decent quality? Specjal is the Polish Lakeport, and not even Lakeport Honey Lager, just shitty Lakeport. I was in Gdansk and I hadn’t tried it yet, and I could have done without it.

Lech - I had this one when I went to Sopot for lunch (I had a shwarma platter and it was delicious). It had a very yeasty taste, but not like a Pilsner. On a whole it was pretty tasty.

Tatra - This is probably the best beer that I had in Poland. My cousin Michael bought a bottle for me and I loved it. It had an almost nutty flavour with a very pleasant aftertaste. It is not the most expensive beer, far from it. It was actually one of the cheaper brands available.

Okocim Mochne - Yes, this is the same brand as mentioned before, but ‘mochne’ means strong, and this beer was strong, coming in at a whopping 7.1% alc/vol. It was very flavourful in its hop-y-ness with very little after taste, which was a pleasant surprise for such a strong beer.

Krolewskie - This is my uncle Tadeusz’s favourite beer. I’m pretty sure the name means ‘King’s Crown’ or something like that (maybe it’s just ‘King’?). It’s made with barley (like Tyskie). This one also has a slight bitter taste with a bit of a nutty flavour. Definitely not bad at all.

Zyme - This is a “natural” beer, meaning that it is unpasteurized. I’m not sure what that does, but it sure was good. It tasted like a wheat beer, only a little bit ‘darker’ if I may use such an adjective.

Zlowy Lwy - The “Golden Lions” beer, as indicated on by the golden lions depicted on the label of the bottle. A nice package for just an OK beer. I don’t remember much else about it. Oh, it had a cool lion’s head logo on the bottle cap. Yeah.

Deperados - Tequila-flavoured beer. Weird.

So those were all the beers I indulged in over my trip. I didn’t get wasted everyday, but I definitely drank a lot of beer. All of my relatives who offer me beer when I would go to their homes and who am I to refuse?

I stole this pint glass from a pirate ship. Yeah, that's right.

I hope to increase my library of tasty beers while I am in Europe. I’ve found myself drinking a lot of Carlsberg. Why you ask? It’s cheap. Yeah, I know. I know.

Love,

Seb

Barcelona, After Dark

Barcelona takes on a little bit of a different personality at night.

I shouldn't have licked that frog, man.

That’s another building by Antoni Gaudi. It’s called la Casa Batllo, which means the House Through The Eyes of Those Tripping Balls (editors note: that’s not true). The lights really allow you to see all the detail that is on the front of the building.

Here’s where I wish I had stayed, and not spent twenty minutes trying to find in the dark a place with no signs:

Their sign was much easier to see at night.

The major avenues were always filled with people, scooters and cars at night. I only wish I had walked up the hill again to look over the city and all it’s artificially lighten splendor.

This is a caption.

Next time I travel to Barcelona I want to go with a group of people as I see it being an entirely different experience. Who’s in? Let’s say in 2014 or something.

O Barcelona, Where Art Thou?

Dateline: Sunday, September 8th, 2009.

Location: I set off on a journey to Spain to escape the rigorous schedule of a student.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. Our beloved Anthropology department had scheduled a reading week for us, and damned if I was going to read during this past week off. On Friday, I booked a ticket to Barcelona, 3 nights in a hostel, and packed my backpack of essentials.

That's not my plane. I don't know where that one was going.

The flight took just over an hour and a half from London. It was the first time I’ve ever flown such a discount airline where they don’t actually assign you a seat. You just show up and sit wherever you like. Fortunately the people were civilized and we were able to take off on time.

I actually flew to Girona, which is a city in Spain about an hour drive NE-ish from Barcelona. The roads were clear and we flew into the city. When we arrived, it was already dark, I was tired and I wanted to get to my room in the hostel. I got outside the bus station and attempted to follow the Google Maps directions I had printed out to the hostel. See, the thing about the cities is Europe is that they like to put street signs on the sides of buildings, and not always were easily visible. I’m used to the street names on polls on the corners. I didn’t know where the hell I was or were I was supposed to go. I wandered around for about 15 minutes until I decided to go back to the bus station and buy a proper map (which I probably should have done before hand, but whaddayagonnado?). All prepared and on my way, I walked towards the address of 290 Calle Mallorca. What the people with whom I reserved the room neglected to tell me was that there is no actual sign for the hostel. I must have walked around that intersection for about 20 minutes before I found the only sign that indicated that this place actually existed; a small printed out note taped to the buzzer panel beside the large entrance gates. Finally I got in to the hostel, got the keys to my room and collapsed onto the bed.

Where the magic didn't happen.

I realize now that I probably shouldn’t have flown in on a Sunday evening since nothing was open. I managed to sustain myself for that night on the Nutrigrain and Kit-Kat bars I had stowed away in my backpack for just such an emergency. Next time I will know better.

So I spent the next three days walking, walking and walking. I would venture a guess that I spent about 20 hours walking during my time in Barcelona. The city is amazing; there is just so much to see. The city is laid out in a grid pattern for large sections so it’s really easy to get around. The map I bought had all the land marks and tourist attractions on it, so I spent my time walking from one to the next. Many of the more interesting buildings were designed by Antoni Gaudi, as well as probably the most famous structure in Barcelona: the Sagrada Familia.

 

 

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

 

Unfortunately I did not go into most of the buildings since I didn’t want to spend a ton of money on entrance fees. But all was not lost. I walked up to one of the higher hills in the city, up Baixada de la Gloria, where the street is so steep that they installed escalators outside to make it easier to climb. Once I reached the Parc Guell at the top the view was magnificent.

"Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom." - Mufasa

 

You could see all the way to the Mediterranean Sea. The air up there felt so fresh. I suddenly didn’t feel at all tired after the long walk. I just stood up there for a little while just looking out over the city. It felt a little surreal to be there and I’d be lying if I said the thought “Holy shit, I’m in Spain!” didn’t cross my mind.

More pictures soon…

 

I know myself too well.

It said ‘Limited Edition’ on the bottle so I bought it.

It tasted terrible, by the way.

A small gripe: all the milkshakes at the grocery stores are ‘Thick’ or ‘Extra Thick’, and I don’t like it.

What kind of futuristic-year-3000-bullshit is this?!

On the recommendation of the lovely Randall, I picked this little piece of confectionary up from Marks & Spencer:

 

What dragon tears must taste like. Magical.

 

If you don’t know what Marks & Spencer is, it’s like if a Loblaw’s had sex with a Sears, it’s baby grew up to become awesome. It’s got delicious food and delicious clothing. Anyways, I bought the cake for approximately $3CAD, and whoa boy, it was delicious. As you can see from the picture, it’s got two (two!) colours of cake (to be honest I thought I tasted berries and vanilla flavours coinciding with the appropriate colours), and it’s wrapped in a layer of marzipan. It was sweet, without being too sweet, which is definitely a good thing, and sometimes difficult to pull off. I restrained myself and only ate a small piece each day. You know that thing were if you have a cake, and the longer you have it, the more stale it gets? That didn’t happen with this cake. It stayed delicious and fresh throughout.

I need to go buy some more.

I am so smrt.

Notice the Zombie Survival Guide on the lefthand side.

Nerd alert!

In which I ignored the Zombies and simply drank some gin

Halloween for me has never been a huge deal. I mean, I get it. Free Candy, parties, and girls dressed in slutty outfits. I use it as an excuse to get drunk and belligerent, but you get to wear a funny hat at the same time without people thinking you are a complete douche.

Not knowing what to expect of British Halloween, I hadn’t made any plans.

Sharing my dislike (perhaps that’s the wrong word, read: laziness) for dressing up, my friends James and Nicole invited me over to their house on Halloween night for an all out Zombie-Movie Marathon. I knew these people were cool when I met them. The price of admission: booze and snacks, and I was more than willing to oblige. A few others followed suit, and there we were, getting drunk whilst watching zombie movies for 12 hours. I might give a rundown of what we watched but the main issue here was the gin I bought; Gordon’s Dry Gin.

It'll get ya drunk.

I wasn’t sure if I had made the right choice in gin when I picked this bottle up at the Tesco near my campus. I’ve had the most common gins you can get at the LCBO: Bombay Sapphire, Tanqueray (as well as the No. 10), New Amsterdam, Beefeater etc., so I wondered what I had in store for myself. When I got to my friends’ house, I poured myself a makeshift martini (using some kind of dry vermouth that for the life of me I can’t remember the name), and dove in. I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. It was smooth, with a light aftertaste of citrus (it was also only 37.5% alc.). Once we started watched the movies and eating pizza, I switched to glasses of gin and juice, and couldn’t resist the temptation of singing the Snoop a’Loop song in my head.

After the gorefest, I got home just before the sun was about to rise, with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I think this was due to the jalapeno on the pizza we ordered compounded with the mounds of popcorn and chips ingested, and not the amount of delicious gin I consumed.

Nectar of the gods, indeed.

 

I take on the British Parliament

On November 2nd, I was lucky enough to attend an organ trafficking symposium entitled ‘Shopping for Organs: The global trade in human organs’ at the House of Lords in Westminster. It was part of the BioCentre‘s 2009 series of conferences concerning the human body. The speakers included several experts in the field, including personnel from various agencies such as the UK Human Tissue Authority and the UK Department of Health. The person who I was there to see, though, was Professor Nancy Scheper-Hughes from the University of California at Berkeley. I have read a few of her papers and even referenced her in some of the essays I wrote at U of T. I realize the nerd-factor of getting giddy over a medical anthropologist, but I couldn’t help myself. It was exciting to see someone in real life whose works you have studied. It was kind of like seeing a band you are a fan of in concert for the first time, albeit less drunk. Or maybe a little bit more drunk, I’m not sure how I feel yet.

The conference itself was relatively informative. Some topics were brought up that I never thought to link to organ trafficking and donation such as human trafficking (duh!), as well as the issue of increasing living donor rates. I found out about a couple organ donation advocacy and supervisory groups that I didn’t know existed. So big-ups new knowledge.

On a whole, the conference only lasted a little over two hours in the afternoon, so I had plenty of time to walk around the area before and afterwards. The Parliament building are gorgeous themselves, located right next to the river Thames.

It also turns out that my head is bigger than Big Ben.

My head is bigger.

In all seriousness though, I love downtown London. Or Central London, that’s what people here call it. This city is just so freaking huge. There’s almost everything you could ask for (no Chipotle! *shakes fist*) and more. I walked over to Trafalgar Square and ate a cup of chili, sitting on the side of a fountain. I felt just like one of those local-types!

I ate chili over there. ->

The only problem I’ve encountered so far is the little devil on my shoulder telling me to spend my money in all the awesome stores aligning Reagent Street. So far I’ve disciplined myself enough that I’ve only spent money on the essentials. An Etro suit isn’t essential (yet). The store at which I have made a purchase is Uniqlo, which is kind of like the Japanese equivalent of H&M. I got three undershirts for 9.99, which I thought to be a good deal. But since I am a poor student, that has been the extent of my budgetary indiscretion.

More adventures and pictures to come.

Love,

Seb

What up?

What up people. It is with great honour that I announce the commencement of my ultra-blog, with exclusive insights into my travels around the world. I am currently studying on the west side on London at Brunel University. England and the rest of Europe are at my disposal, and I intend to make the most of it.

I have only started here, so there’ll be plenty of interesting adventures, pictures and facts to come!