A really long blog post detailing a considerable amount of time.

Since I've pretty much failed at blogging on all accounts, with a week left, I'll try to salvage what I can.

My final days in Prague were blissful and bittersweet. Alysha came in town on the Monday before the Wednesday we were supposed to leave. We ended up staying until Friday morning as a result of airline-failure-to-deliver-baggage.

I spent a lot of time walking around embracing Czech culture.
I ate a lot of ice cream (zmrzlina), drank some cheap beer (pivo), tripped on some cobblestone. (those two aren't related)
I went to an Elle magazine photoshoot with Joshua and his wife Martina, that was pretty awesome.
I finished up the project with Joshua, and then he invited Alysha and I to a dinner party. It was a nice farewell.

Here's a link to the project if you're interested in what I spent four weeks doing in Prague. The sound is kind of choppy, but the pictures are nice. It's pretty clear which of the two I'm better at.

Link to Photo Story

Anyways, I also met with a guy who works at an ad agency in Prague and things went pretty swell, so who knows, this time next year I could be blogging (or not) from my permanent residence in Prague (sorry mom!). We'll see where the wind takes me, it's still a long way off.

So we went to some final museums, a couple more places where people have died, and then alysha and I did the whirlwind tour of Prague, so she could get a taste of its awesomeness. We ate some good and disgusting Czech food, drank some good beer, saw a couple monuments and then left for Germany.

Prague bid us a nice farewell - on our last night we were walking home from a bar and spotted two people having sex in an alley way! How's that for Czech PDA?! We decided that was probably our cue to leave, and then before we even made it home a man dropped his pants and started peeing in the street -- definitely time to go.

We packed up on Friday morning with all 150 lbs of luggage and headed to Berlin. The train was about 5 hours and not a bad ride. We made it all the way to our hostel, then rested for a minute, and went out to start exploring. We found a random monument, and then a random live music/craft festival. What we didn't find was German food, the ENTIRE time we were there -- and we looked! and googled!

I suppose Berlin is too multicultural to support such heritage as schnitzels and lederhosen. So we ate Indian food and Currywurst instead. We went to the Pride parade on Saturday and encountered Berlin's most outrageous and flamboyant gays -- it was fantastic and spectacular -- though really, how could you expect much less from Berlin and a pride parade. We went and saw "the wall", pretty much a nonevent. It was there. It was a wall. Ta-da! We then explored some more and found the Brandenberg gate, and probably some other famous things. I was more concerned with everything but the landmarks.

The people all spoke English, so there was very little pointing, air-drawing, or attempted sign language going on. Alysha tried to practice her four German words. Berlin appreciated it. We went to two different bars while we were there, both local and divey. The first greeted us with song, flying coasters and swinging chandeliers, the second with dim lights and good beer -- both were accepted and appreciated.

Sunday morning we got up, stuffed our faces at the free hostel breakfast and made our way to the train station -- two girls and at least 150 lbs of luggage. The Berlin men were very nice and carried my suitcase full of dead bodies and cement blocks up and down the fifty flights of stairs the city so graciously provided us with. Alysha was smart and carried a backpack -- I looked like a homeless baglady -- sweat pouring, disheveled hair and facial expressions of extreme exhaustion. -- nevertheless, we made it to the station and onto the train.

Our train ride to Paris was about nine hours total, 6 hours on one train and 3 on another. We were unaware you needed to book a reservation on the first train, so we got to ride the entire six hours on the floor, in the steps of the doorway, next to the bathroom. I can honestly say, it was unpleasant. Regardless of how young and agile we might be, our bones ached. We bumped and banged through six hours of train then transferred to the next one where we had seats. We were so kindly placed in the car with the worst representations of Americans on the entire planet. It was embarrassing to be associated with such disasters.

A family of four, two kids, from California. They had filled the entire compartment with their luggage, so that they could have plenty of leg room and no one else could store their luggage --rude and not allowed. They wore their passports on those neck things under their clothes so that 1) everyone could see them and 2) they looked like someone was going to mug them right there (someone would have been me or alysha because no one else could stand to sit near them). They were loud and obnoxious and the husband had his shoes off and propped his feet up on his wife. Trains are cramped - that's disgusting. It's hard to not side with Europeans who hate Americans abroad, when I can't even stand them!

Well whatever, so we rode three-ish hours with those four-ish goons from California and arrived safely in Paris. We lugged our luggage up and down and up and down fifty more flights of stairs and through the metros and arrived at Telegraphe - the metro stop I've been calling home for a couple weeks now. The directions from Tudy, my landlord, were a little cockeyed, so we had to walk around a bit to find the streets. After three more blocks of lugging luggage we made it! Tudy welcomed us and THANKFULLY carried my luggage up the three - or six - flights of stairs - depending on how you look at it.

We put our stuff down, met Christina - my awesome roommate I didn't know I was going to have - and like starving hyenas went to find food. We went to the local cafe around the corner, Le Telegraphe. It had a good vibe, outside seating, and we really weren't picky after having eaten nothing but complimentary yogurt pillows on the train. We ordered croque monsieurs - a grilled cheese with the cheese on the top and the ham in the middle. There's another variety (croque madame) with an egg and cheese on top. I picked out the ham, but it was quite good. Anything would have been as delicious, but it was a good choice nonetheless. While we were eating awkwardly close to other people, a older gentlemen started talking to us. The first thing he asked was why we ate so angrily -- like i said starving hyenas! hah!

After some really awkward conversation where he tried to call his wife, even though he was with his mistress, at midnight to ask her to tutor us in French, he ended up buying us some wine because he was appalled that we weren't drinking. He also told us that in Paris, everyone says "je t'aime" for everything. That means "I love you" which we then had to tell him for buying us wine, because that was the Parisian thing to do....I haven't heard anyone say that to anyone else except a six year old girl who was telling everyone that, so he might not have been the most reliable source.

Alysha only had a couple days in Paris before she went home, so we hit every famous thing in the city on the whirlwind tour. We saw gardens and tours and arcs, you know, the usual. There wasn't really enough time for museums, but plenty of time for espressos, croissants, and baguettes -- in my opinion, all much more exciting than the landmarks! lol Alysha disagrees.

On her last night here, we went to a Jazz bar down the street where we made a french friend and a french 'mommy' in the same night. There were only about 20 people there, so two young American girls were the main attractions -- and everyone wanted to talk to us. Our 'mommy' was wasted - and took it upon herself to warn us - in French - of the horrors of Paris. The pickpockets, the muggers, etc. She had apparently recently been mugged. I deduced this from her flailing gestures of choking and wrist grabbing. Then she gave us her phone number, told us it was an SOS number, she was our French mommy and that she would come and punch somebody that messed with us. All in French, all in gestures....the conversation was pretty long. Then Vivian, a young french girl, was called over to translate. When she realized we didn't know our french mom - she thought it was hysterical. She gave us her number and we became instant friends. Then she left town for the month, so I haven't seen her since...bummer.

Anyways, we had a splendid time at the jazz bar and drank standard Parisian beer with garden gnomes on the glass. Alysha left the next morning, bummed to be leaving, but excited to see her boyfriend. I went home and took a nap...something I'd been needing to do for ten days.

That covers a couple weeks. Until the next rainy day where I have enough time to blog, au revoir! bonne journee!

Our weekend trip.

Better late than never -- I'm in Paris now, trying to catch up on my failed blogging. I'll try to be better at it. 

So my Prague class took a weekend trip to Cesky Krumlov. On the way we stopped at the hops museum, the pilsner brewery, and some other random things. Here are the blog posts I wrote for the trip for the class. They are kind of disjointed, but you'll get the idea. 

Reflections of Hops Museum Visitors in diagram of Hops field.

Reflections in a mirror, reflections in a pond, reflections in a journal. Ever since you were little, you're taught the multiple meanings of reflections - even if its a reprimand and request to sit there and reflect on all the bad things you've just done. I've always thought reflections, in the mirror-images sense of the word, were a neat concept, and since I've always been a fan of optical illusions, this fit right in. 

Since we've started this photo class and are trying to "pee on our own tree" I've found that reflections are a simple and interesting way to accomplish this. Though relatively overdone in the standard photo I rearview mirror self portrait, occasionally there can be something slightly more interesting about a reflection of some hops-planting tools, than the hops-planting tools themselves - though, I'll admit, not much. The Zatec Hop Museum in Zatec, Czech Republic, while having potential, was probably as interesting as spoon is sharp. They really put forth 110% to up the interest of something that's actually quite cool, but personifying a hop bud as a childish cartoon character just didn't cut it for the 18 - 25 year old market. 

Beer being such an integral part of Czech culture and economy, it's bizarre to me that this museum wasn't more intriguing. It did have some cool hands-on activities that gave it some umph. I felt bad for the little town of Zatec who's entire livelihood depends on the hops, lucky for them the Pilsner Urquell brewery strictly uses their hops -- even though our brewery tour guide claimed Germany's hops were better. Regardless, a majority of Czech beer -- and other beer for that matter -- starts with Czech hops from Zatec. That's saying quite a lot for a little microscopic dot on the map with a relatively childish and pointless museum explaining it's main economic foundation. 

Anyways, back to the reflections, I took this picture because it was more interesting to photograph than anything else in the museum. I also liked that it kind of gave a sense of place, without actually giving a sense of place. And well, since we're always taking pictures -- it seemed appropriate. 

Single file line in the Pilsner Urquell brewery

The Pilsner Urquell brewery located in Plzen, Czech Republic is largely responsible for the Czech ranking as number one in per capita beer consumption. Packaging about 120,000 beers per hour, this brewery houses a significant amount of beer -- so much, in fact, that you couldn't drink through one of their holding tanks in a lifetime. Leave it to the Czechs to have that much beer on hand. 

Drinking on average 179 liters of beer per every man, woman and child, beer is a pretty significant part of Czech culture. Not to mention, the second-runner up in the consumption contest, Germany, falls behind by about 50 liters...and everyone knows Germans know how to drink. I certainly would not have given the Czechs that much credit for holding such an elusive title, unless I had heard the facts from a reliable source. For the time being, I'm considering our Czech professor fairly reliable -- and the brewery seemed to back up his statement. 

Down in the bowels of the brewery, the pilsner beer lies in wait. After we went through the whole hop to beer process, we bundled up and carefully tiptoed over the wet cobblestones of the fermentation basement. The basement was wildly aromatic of all the pleasant beer smells you can conjure up, and the occasional waft of mold and mildew. Down at the end of this row of beer barrels stood an elderly man serving up unfermented, unfiltered hearty and delicious Pilsner Urquell beers. We sat down in basement enjoying each savory sip of a beer you can only get in this particular basement, in this particular brewery, in this small town of Plzen -- the only place brewing Pilsner Urquell beer. 

I took this photo because I really liked the lighting and the scale of beer barrel to person. I also thought the wet and damp feel came across nicely. 

View from the Cesky Krumlov castle

Down near the Czech-Austrian border, lies the almost completely preserved 17th century town of Cesky Krumlov. Because it hit a pretty big recession as a result of some world wars and evacuations of governing families, Cesky Krumlov missed the boat on reconstruction and renovation. Somewhere along the line it got an Italian renaissance makeover, and oddly enough has kept the facade since then. It's quite a lovely town with winding rivers, narrow streets, and aromatic bakeries. And if you've ever been to Florence, Italy it does indeed have a comparable feel. Cars aren't really very practical here, considering the city center is 5 blocks wide at most and the cobble-stoned streets are flooded with pedestrians.

From ornate wall to ornate wall, tourists bombard the streets of Cesky Krumlov to step back in time and experience what was once a very powerful center of Czech power. Atop a hill, overlooking the river, sits the Cesky Krumlov castle. It probably has a more sophisticated name in a history book somewhere, but for all intents and purposes, this will do. Transferred from "royal" family to royal family the castle has served every purpose from glorious regime to silly extraneous castle used for gifting from one obnoxiously wealthy person to another. It's hard to believe such a magnanimous edifice could have at one time been extraneous and empty. I guess in the periods of historical extravagance, castles were just charms on bracelets in an old jewelry boxes somewhere deep within your hope chest. 

Although at this point the castles are running together, this one had bears in the moat -- and for that, it sticks out. We also had a tour guide from Florida, another heavily weighing difference. Anyways, aside from that, the castle theater had essentially been untouched in the periods were the castle was just a toy, and therefore leaving it impeccably well-preserved. So much so, that the Cesky Krumlov castle theater is the oldest and most well-preserved castle theater still in existence today. Our tour guide informed us that most of the theaters burned down because baroque theater called for fireworks and fireworks explode, generally causing fire, in a time when firemen, codes, and extinguishers were non-existent. Not to mention, public safety was thrown by the wayside for the entertainment of the royal family. Nevertheless, it was pretty cool and is still fully operable, hosting performances a couple times a year.

The castle also had some pretty grand views of the tiny city that lay below it. I took this picture because I liked the view, reflection and silhouette. It was one of the only spots within the castle where we were actually allowed to take pictures and I took full advantage. None of my secret, sneaky pictures ever look like a person with perfect eyesight took them, so I have to scrap them. I was thankful I at least got this photo that I kind of like. 

young boy baking trdelniks for my eating pleasure

Czechs are big on their sweets. There's ice cream on every corner, pastries in every window, and if you're lucky a trdelnik stand nearby. I'm not quite sure what a trdelnik, but all you really need to know about it is that it's the most delicious and succulent doughy pastry that will ever graze your taste buds. If you were a fan of Krispy Kreme, this is at least 100 times better, and probably not full of lard. Probably. 

Essentially, trdelniks are dough wrapped around a spit, and roasted over an open flame. They are smothered with a buttery substance, dipped in bread flavorings like cinnamon or walnuts, and then slowly cooked to crispy brilliance. It looks similar to a muff you might stick your hands in during the winter to stay warm, but its edible qualities make it far more valuable than any faux fur your grandmother had. It's similar to a pretzel, except rather than being tied up, it's simply flattened out and wrapped around the spit. Because it's cooked on an open flame, the outside becomes just the perfect amount of crunchy. 

When the sweet cinnamony aromas waft your way, it's really quite hard to turn down a trdelnik. And for only forty CZK, you can satisfy the animal-like craving in seconds. So for the most glorious of mornings, I highly recommend a trdelnik for breakfast. It's the best doughnut-y pretzel-y sweet goodness you can find.

I took this picture as a tribute to this delicacy, and because I liked the framing of the guy looking through the window. You can see the trdelnik over in the bottom right-hand corner. Let the salivating commence.

Those are the blogs from our weekend away. I'm going to finish up with my last week in Prague, my friend Alysha's visit, our side trip to Germany and then start with Paris! Hopefully some baguettes and cafe au lait will help me along :)

Au revoir!

all the chachkies you could dream of.

Some clowns chillin on some chairs.

Hunt, scavenge, dumpster-dive. If any of those words appeal to you, you're going to love the main blesi trh (flea market) in Prague. Providing visitors with a vast array of anything and everything from raunchy Czech porn to giant jars of nutella (and probably raunchy Czech porn involving nutella), this market allowed for a stupendous morning of exploration. 

Located on the Kolbenova stop of the yellow metro line, Prague's main blesi trh is open from 6am - 130pm on Saturday and Sunday mornings. The vendors start packing up around 12:30pm but a lot usually hang around till 2. If you walk out of the metro station, you can't miss it across the street to your right. You have to pay a small 20 CZK entrance fee, but it's well worth it. Be forewarned, you need one 20 CZK, two 10 CZKs or a euro to pop into the turnstile when you enter. It's a pretty big rip off to put a euro in, so make sure you have coins. 

Blankets spread far and wide, dust clouds dancing down the aisles, the blesi trh offers something for everyone. If your in the mood, which you will be after the pleasant aromas waft your way, there's even some food stands to get schnitzel, smazni syr and various other fried deliciousness. For whatever reason, the vendors display quite a lot of underwear and military paraphernalia.  I know, two things that clearly belong together, and all this time, this perfect harmony of nonsensical objects has fallen by the wayside. It pretty much blew my mind. 

Although you will probably need to shower afterwards, I highly recommend venturing out on this dirty journey. Even if you're sure you could never buy something at a flea market, I promise you will. It's so tempting to buy lots of completely useless, yet highly necessary chachkies, so make sure you limit yourself to only the absolute must-haves. Personally, I was torn between a fur military hat and a compass - I went with the compass. At least when I got lost amongst the grit and grime of the blesi trh, I was able to head the right direction to get home. 

king of the castle

This is from my other blog, but it details what we did last Sunday!

View of the Karstejn castle from the butts (or busts) of mannequins

Forty short minutes away from Prague lies Karlstejn - home to King Charles' castle. There's not much else in Karlstejn, but the views alone are worth the 60 CZK it cost to get there.  It's a 2-mile walk uphill to the castle with gift shops and zmrzlina all along the way. I'm not sure what exactly you are supposed to do if you live in Karlstejn and need to buy something other than a Czech sweatshirt, but I guess the Karlstejnians have figured it out. The town is very quaint and if you could imagine what a traditional Czech town might look like, this hits the nail on the head. Windy roads, small cars, gardens, fences, clothes lines and gnomes in windows are all included in the uphill climb. If you get lucky, like we did, you even get to hear the small Czech children donning traditional garb singing in the streets. I'm not sure what they were singing about, but holding hands, pigtails and spinning around in a circle were all part of the gig -- also worth the 3 bucks, if you ask me. 

When you finally reach the top of the hill, you feel like you've run a marathon. Luckily, there's a spot to stop and get beer about half way up the most brutal part of the climb. After you reach the top, you can pay various amounts of money to see various parts of the castle. They have some English tours and student discounts make it pretty affordable. Be wary of the English tours because the tour guides have semi-programmed the tour into their vocabulary, so their English isn't that good if you actually have a question. If you're not really into history, going into the castle won't do much for you. A majority of the inside was redone during Restoration in the 19th century. All the 'art' on the walls is pieces of the actual 14th century castle, so that's pretty neat. You also get to see replicas of some crowns - they pretty much look like replicas, though slightly more glamorous than a crown you might have worn in a 2nd grade school play. 

For me, the main draw was the awe-inspiring view you get when the tour is over. The basic tour spits you out in the castle's courtyard. The courtyard is worth exploring. If you go up and stand on something you can see the whole land, and you pretty much feel like King Charles, minus the crown. You guessed it, also worth the CZK you pay. 

When exiting the castle, there's a little nature trail that takes you around the other side of the mountain. It's scenic, you get to walk next to a stream, and I'm pretty sure it's shorter. If motivated, which you will be, have a Hansel and Gretel moment and skip down the trail and frolic in the stream. You wind back through town and then back to the train station. It's a pretty hefty walk there and back so make sure you've worn comfortable shoes. 

I snapped this particular photo mainly because I love mannequins. I have a technicolored mannequin named Janice at home -- and she's awesome. She would be proud I took this photo. It seemed appropriate because the juxtaposition was so rare - a mannequin and a 14th century castle. It's not everyday you see such a sight. Not to mention that being in a city that's so painfully touristy, every other second someone is snapping a picture of someone else in front of an iconic landmark. I felt the mannequins should also have photos to show mom and dad too- maybe even send a postcard. After having been here a week, I can safely say I'm surprised by nothing the Czechs do, so this should be expected. 

biking 'round prague.

This is becoming slightly outdated and I apologize. Having to do a blog for school and this one is proving to be really time consuming. And the one for school doesnt really say much about anything other than the photo. 

Well anyways, so we took a bike tour of the city last Friday and it proved to be a pretty hair-raising experience. Led by my professor, we went motor scooter and small vehicle dodging all over the cobblestoned city. 

Thankfully it proved to be pretty uneventful for me despite my Murphy's Law for bicycling. I only almost hit just ONE person and my chain came off. It was pretty chilly that morning, so it was actually a lovely ride. Prague is pretty flat, so unlike Texas, we weren't riding uphill both ways. 

We saw a lot of architecture, but it pretty much all blurs together for me at this point! 

So here were the highlights:

Sculpture by David Cerny

 These black babies sit/crawl on a spot outside one of the modern art museums. They are giant and have faces that are a combination between a barcode and a punched in cartoon character face. 

Here's a closeup - not my picture

They also crawl up this russian radio tower. - also not my picture

Cerny is the creator of the Meet Factory, the place I'm doing my photo documentary on, so it's pretty nifty that his popular and controversial work is all over the city.

 Here's another one of his pieces we stopped by. The two men pee in a pool that's the shape of the Czech Republic.

David Cerny sculpture

On a more peaceful note, we stopped by to see the Lennon Wall. It gets painted and repainted every day by various "artists" around the city. Generally speaking, its a peaceful protest wall with Beatles' quotes.

Lennon Wall

And last but not least, we pedaled over a bridge to get to the Lennon Wall, that was covered in padlocks. It's tradition for sweethearts to lock their love to the bridge and throw away the key. It's not just here, apparently it's starting on the Brooklyn bridge and other places in the US too, but I'd say it's more popular here. Overall, PDA is more popular here!

Padlocks of Love

Late Insert: I dont know how I could have forgotten this, but Friday night I went to a Czech drag show. Men in women's clothes in Czech. What more could you ask for?!

I spent all of last Saturday spending time with Joshua, the artist that lives at the Meet Factory that I'm doing my documentary on. We're getting along quite swell, so I'm excited about the project!

marching to the beat of gypsy feet

Trekking from Wincelas Square to Old Town Square with the gypsies today proved to be a remarkable feat.  Previously, my view of gypsies stemmed from my grandmother’s warning that their fake babydolls would guilt me into giving them money and then they’d pick my pockets in return for my kindness.  Needless to say, it was kind of skewed.

Unlike the fake-babydoll-carrying-swaddling-clothes gypsies of Italy, the Romani gypsy parade was a fantastical celebration of gypsy culture in Prague. Decked to the nines in makeup, bells, bangles and flowy clothing of all sorts, the gypsies twirled and whirled their way through town. Supported by family, friends, photographers and fanny-packed bystanders, gypsies young and old strutted their stuff down the cobblestone streets. Representing all ethnicities, from Indian to Hispanic, the gypsies marched in support of their homelands.

Never before have I feared being trampled, but kneeling down trying to capture a photo of gypsy feet can really change a person's mind on those types of things. Elbowing and wedging my way to the front of the crowds, I felt similarly to that 'N Sync concert I went to in middle school. It's interesting how some points in your life connect to vastly different experiences you've had. 

Because the parade was moving so swiftly, it was almost as if the crowd was doing a tango with the each gypsy tribe, circling and dispersing, constantly in flux. Winding around corners, down the narrow streets, the parade hustled and bustled with colorful life.  For some of the younger girls, it seemed as though this were their big ballet recital, posing and twirling all lipsticked and smiley. 

I was thoroughly impressed by the dedication of each tribe to their performance. I took this picture because I wanted to capture both the landmark of Prague and the contrast of the colorful gypsy. In addition, I wanted to illustrate the movement and chaos that ensued during the parade. I think this photo depicts the parade to a tee. 

grave-dancing with the ghosts of prague's past.

Tuesday turned out to be a pretty cool day. It was our first day of class, and I wasn't looking forward to it. During our time here, we're taking mostly photo stuff, but also some tidbits on Czech history. Our history professor, a young and enthusiastic guy, gave us a fast forward lecture on what the Czechs have been through and where they are now.

Recap: Czechs are simple. They like beer, dogs and fresh flowers, and everything about their lifestyle reflects that. They are a "hobbit nation" and don't mess with the kings. They pretty much mind their own and enjoy their days. They've been bombed twice - once took out half of city hall (a warning bomb by Hitler) and one took out a church ( on accident by the U.S. who then gave them money to rebuild it )

After class, we walked around the school area, got lunch at an Italian restaurant (veggie tortellini!) and then went back for a short photo lecture. Then, as a class, we went down to this gigantic historic cemetery.

Olsany Cemetery

We were given a couple hours to go exploring. There were acres and acres of graves dating back hundreds of years. I spent an hour and a half and got one row of one block covered. The cemetery was pretty creepy and overgrown. 

Headstone peeking through the shrubbery

Some were even empty -- don't ask where the bodies went, I couldn't tell you. 

I spent the hour or so tip-toeing around headstones and wedging my way between graves to get good pictures. Oddly enough, it wasn't really that creepy. It was more like a park, where people just happened to be buried, than a normal cemetery. Moms were walking their children in strollers and many people were just out for an afternoon stroll. It was interesting, definitely a different culture -- i think mainly because they have a lot more dead people here, or atleast older ones. 

We took the tram home and then went all the way out of town to visit the "Meet Factory" -- the place I'll be doing my photo documentary on. It's an artist commune that invites foreign artists into Czech culture to integrate styles and make Czech art more progressive. The factory is housed in an old Meat factory and was started by David Cerny, a famously controversial Czech installation artist. 

Here were the directions I was given: take the 12 tram about 20 minutes. hop off, when you see the giant poles that hold the electric wires, climb through them and cross all 8 of the railroad tracks -- walk up the hill and you're there....so that's what I did. 

Joshua, the artist I've been talking to, gave us a tour of the place. I'll be spending all day Saturday with him starting my documentary. The place is AWESOME and he was incredibly nice, so I'm really looking forward to it.