Cross-Country Journeyings

After enduring what can only be described as a road trip of epic proportions, I unfortunately no longer have usable legs or a tailbone. My sports career has been a long and fruitful one and though I'm forced to walk away from the game I love, I'd like to thank my parents, my teammates and the many coaches that have been there for me al--

K, bad jokes aside, I'm semi out of commission because we had a match up in Calais this weekend and instead of flying - as I'm told the club used to back in the pre-economic fiasco days - we decided it would be fun to drive. And by "we" I mean the president and coaches.

So Friday after training we once again saddle up the ol' mini-buses and the caravan across the entirety of France begins. According to Google maps, it's supposedly only about a 9 hr trip... but somehow that translates into more like 11-12 hrs when you stop for multiple bathroom breaks and oh, I don't know, a full 3 course proper sit-down lunch. Forget making good time, it's apparent these people appreciate a good meal. I mean really appreciate. Then again, I guess you know you're in the culinary capital of the world when...

So, many hours later, we arrive in at our destination. The gym was old-school sweet and channeled somewhat of a hockey rink feeling. Naturally, as a Canadian, I felt right at home. The hockey rink vibe was due to the fact that the stands directly behind the bench were divided into what can only be described as penalty boxes. Enough room for maybe 3 people in each, I liked to think each walled section could either be utilized for crowd control to maintain the peace during a rowdy upset. Or sold as exclusive high roller court-side suites... The marketing department and I are in negotiations.

But I digress.

So we roll in and took care of the biznass we came for, winning in 3. Holla. Nevermind we won the first set 25-15 and then somehow barely came out alive with a 31-29 W in the 3rd... A win's a win. Oh and I played pretty well, which is a refreshing change from my on-court antics of late.

Anyway, travelling to/being in Calais was interesting for a couple of reasons... First, being a native of a Commonwealth country, and the fact that we were so close to Britain I could almost taste it, I felt a special connection with the (true) motherland I hadn't felt before. Heck, a couple times I almost burst into a rousing solo rendition of God Save the Queen. I'm not sure if all the driving was getting to me but I think it was just the proximity to the English-speaking world and the possibility of hearing decent music that warmed my heart. It doesn't really make sense, but allow me to explain:

In my opinion, the French do many things well. They do a good meal. They do a good wine. They do a good revolution. However, they do not do good music. I'm sorry, but it had to be said. 4 months in and the standard French musical fare is starting to get to me... I've been fed a steady diet of bad dance music, campy guitar singalongs and old Rihanna. And I don't get it.

The English - while their traditional cuisine leaves more than a little to be desired - I say they know how to do good music. Obviously and especially good rock, to which I'm particularly inclined. I recognized a couple songs in the restaurant during the post-game meal that nearly brought tears to my eyes since they were both 1) new, and 2) decent. And both by indie English bands that have not seen the light of day further south of the "border". I love France, don't get me wrong, but ah for a moment I pined to be back in a land of decent musical taste.

Moving on.

This trip was also interesting because the Canadian in me was brought out more than once. Obviously the hockey-gym thing was a factor but also because it started to snow heavily on the beginning of the return drive home. My panicked coach - being an inexperienced southern driver - handed the team wheels over to me and let me just say - the mini-bus might not look like much, but she handles like a beaut.

Actually, I chilled in the back of the bus and just hoped the unfortunate weather wouldn't tack on an extra 3 hours to the already lengthy voyage. It did make me reminiscent of home though... For about 2.4 seconds. A swift snowball to the face from my asst. coach snapped me out of it though, and I quickly remembered this was why I left Alberta in the first place.

So cold, so bored.

The real Canadian in me also shouldn't have been complaining about the voyage because this little joy ride was chump change compared to many a road trip I've taken in my youth. I don't know if Canadians don't believe in jet travel or are just too cheap for it, but I've concluded it's more something like a twisted rite of passage. 14-hr team trip to Vancouver? Check. 20-hrs solo drive to Winnipeg? Check. Oh wait, twice? Check. 36-hr family vacay drive to California? Check. Check. Check. (We made that trip a lot...). You get the picture.

So 10 hours across France shouldn't have been a big deal but, just my luck, I was sitting on the only chair in the van that was more of a jump seat than a real spot. Less padding, more pain. Basically, after my laptop died I had nothing left to focus on but the soreness of my bod, the van's mood lighting (there was an actual button on the ceiling, next to ON/OFF and DOOR that said MOOD. When pushed, it cast an appealing orange glow about the interior of the vehicle. I swear I'm not kidding this time) and the horrible music playing on the radio.

Not to be a downer, I'll finish this by returning to the fact that we played well, and more importantly, this trip is done for the year. Calais comes to us next and I will appreciate every minute I spend not in a mini-bus rumbling down French freeways... Which, at some point during the trip, ALWAYS lead to rolling down the main street of a small village going, at most, 40 km/h. Who planned these "highways"? It's another thing I don't think the French do well... But that's a story for another day.

Internationally Known To Rock the Microphone

So December is shaping up to what looks to be a solid month of travelling adventures.

First, since we lost to the Ukrainians in the first round of CEV (aka Euro) Cup we've been assigned to play against CV Unic Piatra Neamţ, a Romanian team, for the next round. They come here on the 10th and then we roll out to yet another former Soviet satellite on the 16th-ish. And yeah, I just like saying 'former Soviet satellite'.

Yes, please.

Truth be told, I'm pretty psyched about goin' to Romania since it's somewhere new but considering there was once the posibility that we'd be playing in Azerbaijan, I'm a little disappointed. I was all set to finally take full advantage of the chance to use my Azerbaijani with some native speakers... Plus, it's not everyday you get the opportunity to travel to a country that's priviledged to be the prime real eastate between Russia, Georgia and Iran. Maybe next year, but by then they might have discovered that it's barely still actually in Europe and therefore can't be in the Euro Cup... so I might not get lucky after all.

Back to Romania - We're playing in a city called Piatra Neamţ in north-eastern Romania, about 8 hrs from Bucharest. Word on the street is it's one of the "most picturesque cities in Romania" so let's hope it lives up to that description. Either way it has to be more picturesque than the Ukraine so I'm not too worried. My standards are low.

My expectations for ridiculousness, however, are high. Last time my club played in Romania a couple years ago they had some stories to tell. Apparently they actually passed a couple horses & buggies on the drive through the countryside to the city they were playing in. No word of a lie. Upon arriving at the gym, they found the Romanian army - complete with automatic weapons - surrounding the court. No big deal - you shank a ball and potentially take out some guy's loaded A-K... The soldiers stayed there for the duration of the game, presumably to protect the foreigners from the onslaught of cigarette butts and vodka bottles after beating the home team? Apparently people were allowed to smoke inside the gym during the match so I'm wondering if it'll be the same where we're headed. Should make for an interesting time. Here's to hoping nobody's asthma flares up during a long rally...

After Romania and the craziness that should ensue, it's back to Paris for our last match before Christmas break. We have an unheard of 12 whole days off so I intend on capitalizing fully and getting the eff outta Albi. Fortunately, My German will be in the house and we're rollin' to Venice for Christmas. I haven't been back to Italy since I was 6 so I'm lookin' forward to it. If Italian cuisine treats me anywhere as well as French has, I don't foresee any problems.

For New Year's we're hoping to head to Barcelona since there are cheap flights from Paris and I figure I should complete the French neighbouring-countries trifecta, as I was in Germany in August. Now if I can just fit in Belgium, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Andorra, and Monaco sometime before midnight I should be good on actually visiting all of France's neighbours before the end of 2008... D'oh. Yeah, I spoke too soon.

So that's what's been up lately. Planning trips and lookin' forward to a little change of scenery. It's a little crazy to think I've been over here for comin' up on 4 months. Yipes. What do I have to say for myself in terms of getting anything tangible accomplished off the court? Not a lot. Record amounts of time spent online and improved, but still pretty terrible, guitar skills. Rough. I think it's clear I need to spend some serious time planning some legit New Year's resolutions. I'm open to suggestions. For the rest of '08 I'm just focused on ball and takin' in more eastern European fabulousness. Should be good.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

My man David Bowie said it best, but I thought it was time for the look of things to be switched up a little here... The dawning of a new era, if you will.

Thoughts? Comments?

Love me!

Back in the USSR

So I got back from the Ukraine* for the first round of the European Cup last night at 3 AM. It was a trip. Literally.

Ok, wow. Bad puns aside, it was certainly an interesting couple days. Here's a quick recap...

We roll out in usual mini-bus form from Albi to Lyon Sunday evening. Not before being informed that the foreign kids, aka the American and me, need our French visa paperwork to get back into the country on the way home. I hadn't seen that piece of paper in many a week...No big deal though. The whole team will just wait for you guys in the car while you go on the hunt...

Luckily I located mine pretty quick... but the American wasn't so lucky and ended up looking for about half an hour before they decided to leave her to come in the second fleet, with the other half of the team, a few hours later... The trip was off to a stellar start.

So we get to our hotel in Lyon that night after taking an extra hour on the road cause one of the freeways was closed due to flooding... but the flight the next morning was on-time and we were finally Odessa-bound. Whoever booked our flights was a gambling man but impressively we made our 15-minute connection in Prague so God was smiling down favourably upon us Monday.

Tuesday, He stopped smiling.

Just kidding... except not really.

Actually, first let me back up. We practiced Monday evening to work out a little of the stiffness that invariably comes as a result of being tucked into tiny airplanes for hours on end. We hadn't eaten anything since breakfast 12 hours before so it naturally follows that an appropriate pre-practice snack consists of Mars bars and oranges. Something about chocolate seems to spell pre-workout nutrition to the French because we have been fed it more than once before games. Strange, but I guess it's my cross to bear while I'm here. I don't want your pity.

Dig in

Anyway, Tuesday we had a light practice in the morning and it was game time at 5 PM. After getting locked in the elevator due to a lack of room key (for some reason it was necessary to get out. I didn't understand it either but had plenty of time to contemplate while I waited for somebody to push the button and open the doors from the outside. Surprise, I'm in here.) and discovering the hotel's public bathroom has a mirrored ceiling (which makes for some uncomfortable moments when the American is the stall next door...), we were ready to play.

Allow me to sum up the game in a few words:
The team we played was Jinestra Odessa.
We lost 3-1. They had a 6'5" outside hitter. Russians can ball.
That's about it.

So we didn't take care of business. God stopped smiling. And it was a long trip... Luckily, we saw some crazy stuff and some of my stereotypes about the Ukraine were broken so it wasn't all bad.
First - it was ridiculously hot indoors. Like everywhere. I was expecting to freeze, but it was quite the opposite and we sweated our ____s off pretty much the whole time. Our hotel room temperature was stuck at 25 degrees and we couldn't turn it down. The gym was stifling.
Second - the food was really good and the gym and hotel were luxe. In this area I shouldn't say I had pre-conceived notions about either being bad but we'll say I was just pleasantly surprised.

To be fair, I should say that certain stereotypes were reinforced. For instance, we saw a lot of babushkas in flowery scarves.

What else. The country is in rough shape and a lot of buildings and such were really really run-d0wn. For example, the aiport was basically a one-room bus station. The people also seemed to be somewhat "run-down" and we saw exactly 2 Ukrainians smile the whole time we were there. The American even attempted a social experiment to see how many people would smile back at her while we walked around downtown Odessa. The final score? Ukraine - 8, the American - 1. She gave up pretty quick, especially after the only person I smiled at returned the gesture and I undermined her whole operation... I was always told only a mother, and I now found out a Ukrainian, could love this face.

So that's about it. We took the 15 hr journey back yesterday and leave again the day after tomorrow for Paris to play Clamart. The Ukrainians then come to us next week for round 2. If we win in 3 sets or less, it's off to Belgium or Germany. If we lose, who knows where we go for round 2. If I'm lucky, maybe back to another part of the Ukraine. Stay tuned for part 2.

Only 9075 km to Vancouver...

They know how to pick store names in this country

The only man to ever smile for an extended period of time in the Ukraine was immortalized in this statue

Roamin' the streets

Worldwide takeover... You have to make that shape with your mouth to say McDonald's in Ukrainian.

*NOTE: I am told it's incorrect to say "The Ukraine" but rather should simply be referred to as "Ukraine". I tried... It sounds weird. I'm sticking with the The. I'm sorry.