Ballin and Barcelona (or My Experience with Genius) [Updated]

Hola Amigos,

Here's what I've been up to the last few days:

Monday (9/8): Played basketball less than a quarter mile from the Eiffel Tower. I was just going for the ball, so I didn't bring my camera, biggest regret from Europe so far. It becomes part of the background when you're playing, but every now and then I'd look up and just be in awe. And the competition was good and fun as hell to play with. Every drive to the hoop contained about 4, 5, or 27 fakes before a behind-the-back or between-the-legs pass. When I did a behind-the-back and the recipient didn't see it coming, he apologized for missing it rather than asking me what the hell I was doing. A few funny notes too. While they had a boombox with Dr. Dre playing, a couple of differences from the US were that they smoked cigarettes between games and all brought their purses with them. So while we were playing there were about 10 or 12 purses on the sideline and not a single girl amongst us, that will never cease to amuse me. (Side note: I feel like this trend in Europe may originate with the heavy usage of coins. I hate them rattling around in my pockets, so a purse may be handy; but I don't think I could ever bring myself to buy one).

That night at L'Antidote, I had a surreal moment. There were a bunch of French lads and ladies my age at the bar, a handful of whom were rather sloppy (to put it nicely). When ordering their final round of shots, they asked where I was from. When I answered, they gave me a shot and hummed the first part of the national anthem before regaling me with their stories of their time in the USA. I've heard stories and rumors about how the French are rude to travelers, especially those from America, but my experience couldn't be more of the opposite. Many people in Paris went the extra mile to make my stay as good as possible. After I live in Shanghai for a few years, I'll probably have to live here and learn French. (Also, I'll have to learn their anthem so that I can hum it to the first French person I meet in a bar back home)

Tuesday (10/8): I went to Napoleon's tomb, a massive monument to a tiny man. Afterwards, I chilled at a cafe for a couple hours arranging travel and the like. Pretty slow day. I ate at a North African restaurant around the corner from my hostel, which was delicious and the host was stellar in guiding me through my options; there was food from Senegal, Cameroon, and Madagascar, all tres bon. If I can find the name I'll pass it forward for future travelers. In my last night at the Young and Happy Hostel in the Latin Quartier (can't say enough good things about it, great staff, clean rooms, always felt my possessions were secure), a bunch of new travelers just got in. I took them over to L'Antidote to hopefully continue traditions after I leave. I'm gonna miss that place, it was a chill bar to start the night and Will is a cool bartender, always talking with the folks and providing quality service/music (really good music actually).

Wednesday (11/8): Spent 6 hours in the airport due to delays, let's not talk about it. It was late, but I got to Barcelona.

Thursday (12/8): Wandered around Las Ramblas before heading over to Picasso museum. Talk about mind blowing, I think I got an aneurysm. I spent 3.5 hours looking at the over 300 paintings there and they have over 700 more in the vault (Picasso liked the idea of a museum in his hometown and just up and donated 1000 paintings that were "laying around his house"! What!?!). Genius doesn't have an off switch, and it showed. It started with paintings when he was 12 and he died with a brush in his hand. I could look at his works all day. My favorite was his interpretations of a Velazquez piece. When I see a picture, I try to come up with two or three ideas of what is going on in it before moving on. Picasso put his own spin on fellow Spanish painter Velazquez's "Las Meninas"... 60 times. 60. All cubist, but all different, with the colors perhaps conveying the souls/emotions/true intentions of the main characters. Mindblowing. Loved it.

That night, I met Lauriane, Elise, Dave, and Ryan who explored the streets of Barcelona with me. We punctuated the night with my first dip into the Mediterranean Sea around 3AM. The perfect way to start my time in Spain

Friday/Saturday (13-4/8): When I first posted this I got the days off by one, now I can't differentiate these two (Barcelona will do that to you). I did a Gaudi tour, went to Casa Milla (a house designed by him), Sagrada Familia, and Parc Gaülle (a community designed by him). He's definitely a genius too, just centuries ahead of his time. He was an architect, sculptor, and an engineer, his buildings are all twisted and crazy (I'm standing on the roof of Casa Milla in the photo above). I wish he didn't die, I definitely would've commissioned him to design the future Lauer Mansion.

On Friday afternoon, I explored the Gothic district with Lauriane, Elise, Dave, and Ryan. Then I had the first of my Culinary Adventures (coming next post).

Sunday (15/8): Very lazy day today, just laying low after some late nights partying this weekend.

Tomorrow I head out to Figueres for another of my favorite geniuses, Salvador Dali.

Shameless Plugs: I've eaten like a king every night in Barcelona thanks to Kip Lange, Dot Kelleher, Alex Baddock, and Jeff Devine. My map, which is peppered with their recommendations, is treated like a holy relic. So far they're batting 1.000 (knock on wood), I have no doubt it'll keep up. I will tell you all about it in the next post.

Also to the Young and Happy Hostel. I wish I could remember the manager's name, he learned mine on the first day and made sure that my experience was as pleasurable as possible. Either he does that for everybody there or the Scublog has gained popularity faster than I expected. He's a real class act.

Finally, to Gabi, Olivier, and Will for being excellent people to talk with, learn about Paris from, and for making an American feel comfortable abroad.

Ici C'est Paris!

Lots going on over here, and there's even more to come so I actually will make this brief.

Thursday (5/8 [Euro Style]): I went to the Pantheon after arriving in Paris. Ate my first Parisian crepe, drank my first Parisian café, and nearly melted with my first Parisian crème brûlée (which reminds me that I still haven't eaten Parisian escargot, what's wrong with me!). I met my temporary roommate Javiera, who is from Bilbao of the Basque country (not part of Spain [but it kinda is]). Discovered the bar L'Antidote and befriended the bartender William from Monaco.

Friday (6/8): I wake up early for the last time, it's much more fun to stay out until 5 than it is to wake up at 8. Jav is a fine arts major, so we head to the Louvre, where we act like tourists, get ridiculously lost, make fun of the Mona Lisa, etc. After spending 45 minutes recovering in a cafe, we get lost trying to find a flea market that doesn't actually exist out in the suburbs. We go back to L'Antidote and party la nuit away.

Saturday (7/8): Jav leaves for London, I act like I live here. I spend a couple hours in a cafe before heading to an artists apartment that Jav and I passed by on the way to the Louvre. Seriously, David, if you're reading this check out some of the photos on the side. If your apartment in Berkeley is anything like this (painted walls and art coming out of the woodwork) then please take some pictures and I'll definitely come over after China - living with an artist would be a fantastic experience.

I went to the inside out building and bought a Paris St. Germaine kit before heading to the game. I could write a million words about this experience. The fans are crazy, there are two rival sections, the fascists and the socialists who used to fight after games - even though they root for the same team! Last year was a brutal year for PSG who finished 10th, so the fans cared less about the soccer and more about the fighting. It escalated until one fanatic got killed. To get into the stadium, I had to pass by security guards with machine guns (I still get chills thinking about it). The game was alright, but much lower quality than the HSV-Chelsea match. I got along well with Pierre and Isabella who sat next to me and spoke enough English to commentate on the game. Pierre rooted for both teams, growing up rooting for Sainte Ettiene who were a powerhouse in his youth and now living in Paris. Like the rest of our section, they hated the fascists and just loved the game. The atmosphere was pretty intense, the crowd did little whistles every time they didn't like something or to mock the other team and at times was as ambient as vuvuzelas. The crowd had dozens of chants (which you can hear here), most of which are simple like "Ici C'est Paris" ("This is Paris"). I could go on forever. There was a bicycle kick for a goal, ridiculous. I probably will write more on this later.

Sunday (8/8): I finally visited the Eiffel Tower, which is essentially a tourist trap (trés bourgeois haha); I fulfilled my required attendance and headed to Sacre Coeur... another tourist trap. I came back exhausted, but went to L'Antidote and met up with Will and his friends. I asked them about what French music is best and had a great ongoing conversation that lasted the whole night. Also this was the first time I did the kiss on both cheeks thing as a goodbye (basically they're converting me, I'll probably arrive in Barcelona wearing a beret - which I haven't actually seen yet).

Today (9/8): Whoa, that's now. Last night at 5:30AM I came back to the hostel and chilled with Olivier, one of the guys working the desk. We got off well right off the bat (on the first day) as he is from Paris and loves PSG. He added a few bands to the music list and we started talking about basketball - which he also loves - and told me the location of a bunch of the courts around town. A couple are in shady areas, which I may stay away from, and one for elite players (you can only play if you have a strong reputation), which I may stop by just to watch. There is one that is safe to be at, which is where I'll play this afternoon if the players there are legit. Afterwards, I'll head to Musee D'Orsay (if it's open today, Mondays can be off days for museums).

I love Paris. The people here have been so helpful and nice; the opposite of the stereotypes in my experience. There are enough tourist activities to occupy me for decades, but I've had more fun conversing with locals and chilling at cafes. I could write a bajillion words about the culture here and the differences/hidden similarities with America, which I may yet do. But for now, I've got to get back out there. I only have two days before set off for Barcelona!

HSV Forever and Ever

On Wednesday I saw Chelsea visit Hamburger SV in Hamburg with my cousin Johannes. The common nickname for Hamburger is HSV (pronounced in either three syllables as ha-ess-valdt or two highs-valdt, depending on the chant). It was an astonishing game throughout, here's the rundown:


- My uncle, Paul, bought Johannes and I these tickets and they were fantastic! In the last row of the section under the balcony, I was able to stand, jump up-and-down, etc without blocking anyone's view. Plus, they were close enough we could recognize all the players by their faces

- For those of you who don't follow soccer, Chelsea is absolutely loaded. You can see their roster here. Basically they consist of players who started for their national teams and players who captained their national teams. The reaction they received from the strongly HSV dominated crowd was unlike any I've seen in the US: they gave them a rousing ovation when they entered the pitch. I initially started booing, as would be the norm at home, but quickly changed when I realized what was going on. The crowd was excited to see such great players in action on their home pitch, very classy.

- Even in warmups, Chelsea was so nasty. Nicolas Anelka, the striker who was sent home by the French team at the World Cup for being a prima donna, was flicking behind the back passes to teammates in the shootaround, and always hit the lower left side of the net when he decided to fire one home himself (even when the goalie seemed to know exactly where he was shooting). Also there was a juggling circle that consisted of Didier Drogba (my personal favorite), Ashley Cole, Frank Lampard, John Terry, and a few scrubs (term used extremely loosely). They didn't allow the ball to hit the ground for what felt like 3 or 4 minutes by saving the ball with high difficulty maneuvers. Johannes and I stared in amazement, but when I went to record they stopped.

- When the game started, I was disappointed when Drogba wasn't listed in the starting lineup. "Oh well," I thought, "I guess I'll have settle for Anelka and Florent Malouda up front." They both started for the French national team, no big deal.

- Chelsea dominated possession right off the bat, but HSV got a few good looks. There was an audible gasp from the stadium when HSV crossed and John Terry did his patented headfirst dive to clear the ball out - even though he missed. I couldn't tell if the gasp was in appreciation for something that we had only ever witnessed on television, or because he missed it

- The young defenders of HSV had supreme difficulty handling Anelka, Cole, and Malouda; they could get or put the ball wherever they pleased. This climaxed in a poor pass by a defender that was intercepted by Malouda who crossed the ball to Lampard for the easy score in the 24th minute. The air was sucked out of the stadium, even the fans behind HSV's goal who stood all game chanting were silent for a few minutes.

- HSV controlled the ball and was very close to scoring on two corners just before halftime. The crowd was definitely tense, but there was a sense of anticipation; we knew HSV would score soon. Terry helped energize the crowd with a terrible tackle from behind that earned him a Yellow Card.

- Being there live amplified everything. Moves that looked routine on TV during the World Cup were exciting to see live. Live, the degree of difficulty is much more apparent. Dribbles and passes that are made in traffic that seemingly shouldn't work go through and leave everyone breathless.

- At half, many substitutions are made. Because it is a friendly match, there is no limit to the switches a team makes. Chelsea puts in Drogba... I am stoked

- HSV continues to inch closer to scoring a goal in the second half. A funny series of events occurs when Chelsea defender Branislav Ivanovic cuts off HSV striker Jonathan Pitroipa to get to a long ball, but doesn't touch it and continues to block him off as the ball rolls a good 20 yards out of bounds, irritating Pitroipa. Next possession, Pitroipa comes from behind Randy Moss style to beat Ivanovic to the ball, cuts inside turning him around, then dribbles the ball back outside leaving him in the dust for a wide open shot on goal. It's blocked, but Pitroipa got his revenge making Ivanovic look silly to the amusement of the crowd.

- HSV finally pulls through, this time on a bad error by Chelsea's defenders who allow a bounding ball to get behind them just outside of the goal area. This happened a couple times before without consequence, but this time Mladen Petric - who had been going all out all game for HSV - beat the goalie to the ball with a risky high flying kick to put the ball in the back of the net! The crowd goes absolutely bonkers! A split second later and the goalie gets the ball and Petric's cleats in his face, perfectly timed strike. In the 72nd minute, we wonder if the game will end in a draw and how Chelsea will respond.

- Drogba had been playing facilitator since coming in at half. There was a nice behind-the-back pass to Anelka to get by three defenders (before Anelka is called for a questionable handball). But after the score, he goes into kill mode. He's built like a linebacker at 6-2, 220 or 230, but is faster than everyone on the field. He beats one defender to the ball before crossing him up and getting the ball to the goalie, Frank Rost, who smartly was in position to make the stop. More to come from him later.

- HSV deflects a corner twice, missing the goal by inches to the left. I jump up thinking it's in it was so close. It's late, but the crowd can feel another goal coming on.

- HSV gets an unlikely hero in Heung Min Son, a new transfer at only 18 years and one month old (born in 1992, younger than my brother. holy crap) from South Korea. He gets the ball and with apparently the hugest set of cahones ever crosses over Portugese national team starter Ricardo Carvalho and puts the ball past the keeper for the leading goal. Pandemonium! Everyone is hugging and jumping as "HSV Forever and Ever" (the team theme) blares over the loudspeaker. The stadium shifts from Hamburg to Cloud 9.

- No less than 2 minutes later, Didier "Manimal" "Two-Time EPL Golden Boot Winner" "I made peace in the Ivory Coast, but I will eat your babies" Drogba dribbles into four HSV defenders, leaving two of them on the ground and one of them facing backwards before unleashing a laser-guided rocket-propelled missile at Rost, who gets a finger on it to poke it out of bounds. There are no words to describe the crowds reaction. Some mixture of stunned, astonished, and a collective crapping-of-the-pantalones comes close. The girl next to me, no older than 7 years old sums it up perfectly: silent with hands over her mouth, eyes bulging, folded up on top of her seat with her knees to her chest. Earlier I didn't know if she was much of a fan because she wasn't reacting to some brilliant soccer, but she was completely aware of this moment. Priceless

- The crowd holds its breath through the corner a few more Chelsea strikes until time runs out and the fans go crazy again. Johannes and I go down to the pitch to try and get a HSV jersey from one of the players, but we realize they've all exchanged theirs with Chelsea's and they aren't going to give those up.

Absolutely phenomenal. Recounting this is pumping me up for the Paris St. Germaine match tonight. In other news, I've been to the Pantheon and the Louvre so far in Paris, I'll try and get a post up about that soon. Unfortunately my hostel charges for Wifi access, so I have to chill at cafés to post entries, photos, or even tweets. Not the worst thing in the world, just not convenient for frequent updates.

Cheers!
Stephen "Scuba" Lauer

Ich Bin Ein Berliner

Guten tag y'all,

After spending an enjoyable day in Hamburg and a couple quaint nights in Lüneburg, Johannes, Clara, and I made a trip to Berlin. Hamburg was a great introduction to Germany and Europe with its canals, fancy architecture, and ridiculous cars (seriously, I saw 4 Ferraris, 2 Aston Martins, and 2 Lamborghinis, not to mention countless BMWs and Mercedes), but if Hamburg was a slice of Europe, Berlin was an entire pie. Here are the notes I took about our stay:

- Traveled to Berlin by train from Lüneburg, which took 2.5 hours by train, and found the hostel where we would be spending the night, a nice place called Seven East

- We walk around the corner to rent bikes for a day, which was very crucial. We wouldn't have seen half of what we saw walking or taking the Metro and gave me a real feel for the city, especially as I was the navigator.

- When I asked if I could have a helmet to go along with the bike, the rental lady looked at me as if I asked for training wheels (I know this for a fact because I asked that moments later). So I traveled the city sans helmet hair (sorry mom, at least I tried). The first time I ride a bike for about 7 years, give or take a few instances, and I have to navigate traffic in the third largest city in Europe without a helmet (and later, in the rain)... exciting!

- We started off towards the Berliner Dom, a large cathedral in the East side that's all blinged out in the traditional style. From the rooftop we could see all of Berlin

- We biked up to the Berlin TV Tower, the tallest tower in the city with the intentions of going to the top to see all of Berlin, but then we realized we already did that and decided to go to lunch instead.

- To get to the lunch spot, we rode all the way down (about 3 km) Unter Den Liden - the most famous street in Berlin. There are many government and old-fashioned buildings lining the street until we got to the Brandenburger Gate, which separated East and West Berlin along with the Wall pre-1990. It looks kinda like the Arc d'Triomph and is surrounded by the US, Great Britain, and French embassies, as well as Hotel Adlon, the most famous hotel in Berlin.

- We continued down past the President's house; Johannes and Clara had difficulty describing his position in the country, but I got the sense he wasn't very important - the Chancellor is the top dog in Germany.

- We finally arrived at Weitzman, a hole-in-the-wall restaurant famous for its Schnitzel and Spätzle, which is definitely the name of the German Cheech and Chong in an alternate universe. I had eaten Schnitzel everywhere I went, so I tried the Spätzle. It was freaking fantastic! Noodles with cheese tomatoes and mushrooms all mixed together and cooked in a way that they all stuck to each other and you had to use a fork and knife to cut out bites. Rejuvenated we cycled back up Unter Den Liden.

- When we got back to the Brandenburger Gate, we saw storm clouds rolling in. Johannes suggested that we head to the Sony Center, an open air covered mall that has restaurants and entertainment. With the rain just beginning to fall as we entered we bought tickets for Toy Story 3D in IMAX. Pixar didn't let us down.

- The rain had just stopped when we left, so we biked home and prepared for dinner. Again Johannes came up with a big suggestion: eating out at a Singapore/Malaysian restaurant on a trendy street. The food there was sooo good, cheap, and in huge proportions, I really felt terrible leaving some of my chicken with peanut and coconut milk sauce untouched. The final bill was 40 Euros, but my cousins advised me to tip only 2 euros (5%), because anything more may be taken as an insult?!? Whatever, I guess I'll take it

- We found a bar that Johannes could get into (he's only 16 and can drink in Germany, but not go into clubs, which you must be 18 years old for) and met a kid from Michigan who was visiting a German girl who did an exchange program at his high school. Naturally, with the world being as small as it is, his hometown was five minutes from the place we had the Lauer family reunion 3 years ago. (The night before in Lüneburg, I got a free drink after talking with the bartender, who exchanged in Argus, right outside of South Bend, IN) We stayed until 2 before heading back to the hostel to call it a night.

Today we biked around a bit in the Medieval section of town before heading to the train back to Hamburg, where I'll be seeing Hamburger SV play Chelsea!

Last note: for whatever reason, my German phone isn't connecting to Twitter. I'll give it another shot, but if this doesn't work I won't be able to post as often as I'd like to up there.

…

I wrote that all a couple days ago when I didn’t have an internet connection. Right now, I am sitting at Crepes A Gogo, a stone’s throw away from the Pantheon, drinking café au lait and eating a lemon crepe. I’ll update about the incredible Chelsea-HSV match and my Paris adventure soon with pictures.

Au Revoir,
Stephen “Scuba” Lauer