Travel thread

[Bammer]

Mrs. Bam is lobbying to put our Disney trip back on (in Nov. for kids birthday)

We were gonna cancel cuz we have this huge plumbing repair to pay for. But she wants to swing it.

Already told the kids we had to cancel. They took it well but are a little sad.

Now I think we’ll pack for them and surprise them on the way to the airport. That will be fun.

[Higgs]

You are messing with those kids emotions dude.

[VinylGuy]

what if you surprised them at the airport but actually its just you and mrs Bam that are going to Disney?

[dad]

my wife and I have been talking about returning to Europe next year. we enjoyed Paris very much and decided to go again and add on another country/city. The whole trip will be about 10 days.

the countries we're looking at are Portugal (probably Lisbon), Switzerland, Amsterdam, Netherlands, and Germany.

should we just visit another city in France instead, or hit up another one in a different country?

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[dad]

I don’t think you can go wrong with any of them. If it were me I’d do Portugal then Switzerland. French-Swiss Alps are paradise.

so no Paris at all?

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[dad]

To each their own. I’d go back to Lyon and Annecy before I did Paris again. But you know what you’re getting with Paris so if you love it you should do it.

appreciate the feedback!

[VinylGuy]

my wife and I have been talking about returning to Europe next year. we enjoyed Paris very much and decided to go again and add on another country/city. The whole trip will be about 10 days.

the countries we're looking at are Portugal (probably Lisbon), Switzerland, Amsterdam, Netherlands, and Germany.

should we just visit another city in France instead, or hit up another one in a different country?

yeah, come back to Paris. Its a gorgeous place with so much to do. And you can ditch all the museums and stuff and just enjoy the place, walk around.

Also Lisbon is beautiful. And if you want beach you have Cascais very close. Amsterdam is another must.

[E.H. Ruddock]

Vienna is pretty great

[doug rr]

Vienna is pretty great

make sure to get the pork knuckle schnitzel

[bart]

Vienna is pretty great

It means nothing to me

[pepperwhiteMFC]

How was the sausage over there, Ruddo?

[E.H. Ruddock]

I definitely got meat sweats in Vienna and the countryside, but it was all delicious

[pepperwhiteMFC]

Yeah, I had German relatives. German speaking too. And they didn’t eat vegetables.

[Higgs]

Vienna is pretty great

It means nothing to me

I appreciated this post.

[pepperwhiteMFC]

Hapsburgs, am I right?

[daft twat]

I fucked up a ferry booking because it was in military time. Thought the return was 4:30. It’s 2:30. It’s a 60 Euro mistake, but I’m still salty about it.

[pepperwhiteMFC]

Can’t be on a tight travel budget over there. We got nicked for an extra £150 to fix a small scratch on a wheel on a BMW rental car in Scotland.

Husband wants to take a cruise rather than road trip the next time. So lame.