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ClickOnce Application Cache Location on Disk

July 31st, 2007, 8:33am

I have been working with ClickOnce a lot recently for work and one thing that comes in real handy when debugging deployment of your application (which takes way more than one click) is the actual location on disk of files that are downloaded from the ClickOnce server to the client machine. I knew that these files were downloaded and being run, but I simply could not find them in Windows Explorer. I tried all kinds of searches using both the indexed and non-indexed versions of Windows Search, but nothing came up. I don’t know why this isn’t more common knowledge, but here we go.

So, the first place you should look is here:
C:\Documents and Settings\_username_\Local Settings\Apps\_DotNet_Version_

However, since ClickOnce applications are not supposed to know where exactly the reside on disk (for a lot of reasons security and deployment considerations), the folder names get obfuscated from here. I would suggest just using the modified dates of the folders and files as clues in your search. Hopefully you don’t have too much stuff thrown in there. Another thought would be to explicitly add this folder to the Desktop Search index list (or maybe remove the explicity exclusion?), so then you could use good ‘ole search on it to find your files.

When I finally found the files I was looking for there were in this folder:
C:\Documents and Settings\Administrator\Local Settings\Apps\2.0\LCN10VZX.HD3\025C2B6R.1XJ\qdab..ient_f1fd3e157083502b_0002.0001_10859e55371bee77

Lame, huh? (and, yes, I know running as Administrator is stupid)

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WikiWorld?

July 27th, 2007, 1:27pm

Everyone knows Wikipedia is edited by users around the world, but normally you have to have your changes reviewed by peers before they are made public. In the past few days, I have noticed other websites that allow basically anyone to edit their pages. Looking for an inline search mechanism, I found this page that you can edit by clicking the little edit link underneath the tab at the top. Thinking this was just some crazy kid who thought it was easy and cool, I just forgot about it. Then, today, I was searching the MSDN Library and noticed at the very bottom of their pages there is a Community Content section that anyone with a Windows Live ID can edit.

Crazy.

I guess they figure no one is desperate enough to spam the MSDN Library.

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Backup Solution

July 21st, 2007, 1:48pm

I have been taking a lot of pictures over here in Europe and I have also thought about how awful it would be if I had a disk failure and lost all of them, so I decided to come up with a backup solution to make sure this never happened to me. I looked around for an online solution that would run in the background and continually sync my files to web space, but I couldn’t find anything I wanted for the price I wanted (read: free). Also, I have like 48GB of web space on mattfaus.com that I’m not using, so I figured I should utilize it.

So, I used Christopher Evans’ blogpost Backing Up Your Files: A Comprehensive Guide for CG Artists and Users Alike to come up with this command:

rar a -u -msjpg;mp3;zip;rar;xsn;mpg;mpeg -rv10 -v524288k BackupC.rar @CDriveBackupList.lst

a = add files that don’t exist in the archive to the archive
-u = update files in the archive that need updating
-m[list] = copy files with these extensions without compression into the archive (HUGE speed boost)
-rv10 = create 10 recovery volumes - each of the recovery volumes can replace one of the regular volumes
-vXk = Create split volumes at 512MB each
BackupC.rar = name of archive (split comes out like BackupC.part01.rar, BackupC.part02.rar, etc.)
@CDriveBackupList.lst = the list of files and folders to archive (one per line, no quotes necessary)

Rar or WinRar is a great tool that I install on all my machines. It works on loads of compression formats and adds great commands to the right-click context menu in Explorer.

I have 4 physical disks in my machine, 2 of which are RAIDed (striped), for a logical total of 3 disks. The RAID disks are where I run my OS and the other two disks are my storage.

C = 138GB = Operating System
F = 232GB = Storage2
G = 232GB = SATA Storage
Total: 602GB

So, I backup F onto G and G onto F, and C (which is much smaller) onto both F and G. As soon as I get back to the land of fast Internet connections I will upload to my web space. I stored the command string in a .cmd file, of course, but I don’t plan on running it as a scheduled task - I think I’ll just make an outlook reminder to get me to do it on my own. I should also probably run disk defragmenter at that time.

Recovery volumes
I learned about this after I started using USENET to download files and it is a great concept. It provides parity on the files so that if any of the individual archives are corrupted, you can replace it with one of the recovery volumes. I haven’t ever actually had to use it, but I think it’s a good idea to have it. I have loads of disk space so I do 10-20% parity. G backup resulted in 40 archives, so I made 6 recovery volumes on top of this. The recovery volumes are the same size as any of the individual archives.

Running Times
G = 18.4GB = 20 mins archive + 44 mins parity = 1 hour 4 minutes
F = 10.8 GB = 30 mins archive + 37 mins parity = 1 hour 7 minutes

That SATA drive really shows it’s true colors here.

Also, if you’re marvelling at my speeds, I do have a pretty beefy machine:
AMD Athlon 64 X2 Dual Core 5200+
2.61 GHz per core = 5.22 GHz theoretical
4GB RAM

Microsoft Windows Server 2003
Enterprise x64 Edition
Service Pack 2, v.2825

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I am not there, I did not die.

July 18th, 2007, 8:37pm

In my recent attempts at getting a backup system implemented, I have been going through the deep dark depths of my hard drives to determine what I need to backup and what can be discarded. In that, I found this AwesomePoem.txt:

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight in rippened grain;
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift upflinging rush
of quiet birds in circling flight,
and the softest star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

Anonymous

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Rome

July 16th, 2007, 2:11pm

Destination: Rome, Second Stop: Vatican City
With Ashley reflecting on her summer in Europe we chose the best location we could think of to draw her trip to a close. The heart of the once-boundless Roman Empire, ruled by the likes of Ceasar Augustus, and the setting of several Shakespearian plays, the city that literally birthed the entire civilized world: Rome.

After several long boring train rides, we decided to fly into Rome. The biggest bonus was that RyanAir has straight flights directly from Valencia (where I can take the metro to/from the airport) to Rome, which is simply incredible. Travel time is still significant because of all the waiting you have to do, but it’s much more interesting and fun to wait around in an airport than a train car.

Arriving at the Rome, Ciampino airport (a small town outside of Rome proper) we were greeted by Bob – the steward of the hostel we were to stay in. It was quite worry-free to simply land and be picked up and carried off to the hostel. This was by far the best experience with accommodations I’ve had all summer. The room had a comfortable bed, a glorious private bath, efficient air conditioning, and a very quiet, peaceful atmosphere. It was the most relaxing place I slept all summer. They even made breakfast in the morning.

The process of brewing coffee in Italy is a little different than other methods I’ve seen. The brewing devices come in two pieces: the water reservoir at the bottom and the coffee reservoir at the top. In between these two sits a stainless steel filter that holds the coffee. After filling the water reservoir and screwing the top on (with the coffee in between) you set the whole thing on the stove and wait for the water to evaporate up through the coffee and land in the top reservoir. It’s really quite cool. If you’ve ever been camping you might have used a similar device. I saw a 6-cup pot in a store for 5 Euros, so I bought one so I can feel Italian all year long!

Anyway, back to the story. Ashley found a pretty good deal on a hop-on/hop-off bus (we usually try to avoid such blatantly touristic machinations, but it was a good deal), so after a little foray trying to find our hostel in Rome proper and lunch we initiated our 24-hour tickets at 1pm on Friday afternoon. The open-top bus was completely worth the extra cost – we were able to witness the beauty of Rome in its true form without having to walk all over the place. We saw several plazas with awesome statues, but not worth spending 30-45 minutes walking to get to.

Our first stop was in Piazza Venezia at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The corpse of the Unknown Soldier from the Italian military was transferred here in a great act of unifying the nation. Due to its relatively recent construction, this was the grandest monument in all of Rome. The incredible size and beautiful white marble providing a foundation for the large and impressive statues of bronze and copper was like nothing I have never seen before. The enormous presence of craftsmanship and passion was overwhelming – words simply cannot describe it I’ve posted pictures and hopefully that will help portray my ideas.

Stopping for a break under a neighboring tower build in 103 AD, we took a moment to catch our breath from all that we had witnessed so far. The entire city of Rome has an uncanny presence of power. Knowing that some of the greatest rulers, conquerors, scholars, and even the Son of God himself has walked the same paths you are walking is a very intense feeling.

Walking down the street of the ruins of Ancient Rome’s Forums, we headed towards the Coliseum We made a point to stop at the ruins of the forum of Ceasar Augustus to take it all in. Arriving at the Coliseum was another breathtaking moment. The sheer size and elaborate construction of this building is impressive in itself, but to know that it was built like this 2000 years ago from the sweat and blood of slaves with the most rudimentary equipment compounds the magnitude. We took a guided tour of the building and learned all about the lives of Gladiators, the proceedings of the games, and the details of the building. Before the earthquake which destroyed ¾ of the outer wall, the building was equipped with an elaborate system of sails over the roof that could be adjusted depending on the time of day and the condition of the wind to offer shade to the Romans and to provide theatrical lighting to the center of the stage, where the action took place. Underneath the stage was where the wild animals and Gladiators were kept. During the games wild animals such as bears, goats, lions, alligators, rhinoceroses, hippopotamuses, tigers, and others would be hoisted from beneath to the surface of the stage by a system of elevators. On top of all this, a complex system of lead pipes ran throughout the entire building to offer fresh spring water through water fountains throughout the entire stadium.

The aqueduct system is still in use today, and it serves more than just the Coliseum. Actually, it runs throughtou the entire city. All of the fountains throughout Rome are operated from siphons of natural spring water. There are continually running spouts of water sprinkled through the city that you can operate with your hand to drink straight from the spout, or fill up your water bottle with fresh, cold spring water. This water system is ingenious and undeniably convenient. I can’t get over how awesome this feat of engineering is.

After the Coliseum and a full loop on the HopOn/Off bus, we headed to find some cheap dinner near the hostel. We were falling asleep on the bus, so we decided to call it an early night.

We got up early enough to make it to the first bus that left in the morning and headed to Vatican City. We bought a tourist-style (read: expensive and horrible) omelette when we got there and ate it in the courtyard of St. Peter’s Basilica. It was a nice little breakfast in an incredible surrounding. The courtyard for St. Peter’s basilica has two fountains in the center and then the walls of the courtyard are crowned with the presences of previous popes. It was amazing.

You always hear about the horrible lines to get into the Vatican City during high tourist season, but it really wasn’t that long of a wait. Ashley had to put another shirt on over her dress because you can’t enter the church with exposed knees or shoulders. There were several people standing there that had been denied entry and several people bought some scarves from a nearby street vendor and used pins and such to fashion a covering. Upon arriving at the gate, we weren’t exactly sure what was what since everything was in Italian, and neither of us had done enough research beforehand. So, we went through the tombs of Popes and looked at all of the tombs. I had heard of a few of them before, but not being Catholic I didn’t know much about the men. There was a small crowd gathered around the most recently dead pope offering prayers, pictures of their families, and notes. There was also the tomb of St. Peter, which was very fancy with a grand staircase coming in from above on the ground floor, and gold and velvet covering everything.

After the tombs, we went upstairs to the main basilica and stood in gaping awe for several minutes, reveling in the grandeur of everything. The room was 400 feet tall and every square inch of the interior was covered in ornate carvings inlaid with gold and silver. There were several statues of figures that were important in the history of the church. There was even a baptismal pool that they still use on the weekends to baptize their children. There were huge Latin letters circling near the roof at the base of the dome. There were also several security guards protecting some of the services that were going on. Yes, that’s right, not one, but two services. The one room was big enough to hold thousands of tourists, and still have reasonably peaceful services. There was a blatantly Italian family having a wedding and then a mass. Ashley started filming the mass, and the security guard nearly shot her. Not really, but it was prohibited.

Once we had seen the lower half of the basilica we figured it’d be best to view it from the top, as well. So, we began our journey of climbing all of the 551 steps from the bottom to the top. They had a lift that would eliminate 300 of those steps, but, hey, we’re adventurous. It wasn’t that bad at the beginning because the steps were short and wide, but I started to get dizzy as we made countless circles around the staircase on our way to the top. Once we made it about half way through the stairs broke through to the roof of the building where you could look down at the courtyard and then up at the dome that was to be the final destination. After taking a quick breather, we entered the last set of stairs. This is where things got interesting. The staircase was so small and winding, it was almost like walking through a cave. Luckily the architect had built in several whistle-looking openings into the staircase to make sure that things didn’t get too stifling. The very last staircase was reminiscent of a corkscrew. It had no railings, just a rope hanging down the center of the corkscrew.

Getting to the top, however, was worth every step of the journey. Looking out over the city of the Rome from the top of the Dome of St. Peter’s Basilica is something that cannot be reproduced. We took some pictures of us with Rome in the background, and just meditated on the grandeur and embodiment of so much of our culture’s history we were viewing. After I had a peach purchased earlier that day, we made our way back down the stairs. There was some crazy woman trying to go UP the DOWN stairs, and we witnessed some heightened emotions as she tried to push everyone back up so that she could get through. Quite ridiculous. When we got to the bottom again, we were, needless to say, legs-quivering tired. However, in true traveller’s spirit we headed off towards the Sistine Chapel.

On our walk to the Sistine Chapel, we were greeted by a rather unfortunate message on a somewhat cheery little sign. It was the operating hours of the Sistine Chapel. Maybe I’m just arrogant, but I think the Sistine Chapel, one of the main things we came to Rome to see should be open for more than 4 hours on a Saturday in high tourist season. I mean, why would you want to deprive a large portion of the world from such beautiful works of art? So, the sign said that the chapel was open from 10:30am to 2pm. Looking at the 3pm our watches were telling us was very upsetting. I just don’t understand how this kind of crucial information escaped our recognition before getting all the way to Rome. Ugh.

From the walking and disappointment, we were very hungry by that point. We headed down the road a bit and picked up some pizza and pasta and filled our water bottles with the fresh spring water from one of the public spouts tapped into the aqueduct system. Man, I freakin’ love that. We got a cone of gelato ice cream for dessert and it was great. They stuffed two huge scoops onto these small little cones and it was only 4 Euros for two like that.

We walked through the city towards Plaza Espana, Fountains of Trevi, and the Pantheon. The streets leading up to Plaza Espana were very crowded – apparently this was the place to shop. There were a lot of the famous stores like Louis Vouitton and some others, but I didn’t really take note. Plaza Espana was cool. There was plenty of shade and a cool looking fountain that made it a pretty popular spot. So, we filled up our water bottles again. We walked to the Fountains of Trevi to see an even more grand fountain where several more people were gathered. There was some kind of an event where someone was trying to swim in the fountain, which is strictly prohibited, but an understandable desire. The police whistled and yelled and the guy ran off, but it was an interesting event. Upon reading in my tourist guide book that drinking from the fountain and/or throwing a coin into the fountain would guarantee your return to Rome; we did both.

Ashley bought some artwork from a street vendor, and I took a picture with a still-life drunk guy that painted himself to be the same color as the trash can he was sitting next to. It was funny. Then, we headed back to the hostel to wash up before dinner. The dinner we got at a local Italian was outstanding. It was reasonably priced and simply awesome. You really need to look for restaurants like this when travelling. It makes all the difference in the world.

Sunday was a pretty chill day. We had some time to kill before our planes left, so we walked around the town near the hostel, had breakfast, and I bought my coffee pot. Then we had another great lunch with all the works for a very reasonable price. We had a little bit of trouble figuring out how to take the train from Termini to the Ciampino airport, but we eventually got everything figured out. Ashley and I said our goodbyes for the next few weeks of being apart, and then we went our separate ways.

Of the places I have seen in Europe, I think Rome is my favorite. It’s incredibly touristic, so you should only go if you plan on being a tourist, but the sites, views, and history of that place are just amazing. I would go again in a heartbeat, especially now that I know where to find good food. It’s also weird to see how much technology they utilized 2000 years ago, and it makes you wonder why we have not made greater advances in the time that we’ve had since then.

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Fiesta de San Fermín a.k.a. The Running of the Bulls

July 9th, 2007, 11:00am

Wit a growing sense of familiarity, I boarded the train to Barcelona on Friday morning. Three hours later Ashley and I met to board yet another train headed to Pamplona, Spain. Nine hours and 100 Euros later we arrive in Pamplona.

It was awesome because the thousands of people there were all dressed in the traditional garb of the festival – all white clothes with a red scarf and sash. For the first of many tight situations, we boarded a bus with more people than I thought possible to make our way downtown. There we made the smart decision of stocking up on liquids at the local grocery store and the Stupid American Tourist decision of buying dinner from the street vendors. Suffice it to say that we could have fed a King’s court with the same amount of money at any other restaurant or sandwich shop.

After dinner, the sun went down and the party geared up. Walking around town there were thousands upon thousands of people singing, dancing, drinking, yelling, and just plain being crazy. One motive to wearing white for the weekend is so that the wine that everyone throws on each other looks like blood from an impaled bull – the theme, of course, of bullfights and therefore the entire festival.

We didn’t get much into the wine fighting, but reveling in the madness was very interesting. At one point there was a great fireworks display and watching the bursting colors from the lawn of downtown Pamplona was the absolute highlight of the trip.

Rambling forward, we found the bullring (Plaza de Toros) and the path that the bulls would be running in the morning. Picking and shoving through the streets, we found the length that I had planned to run. Not being able to sleep the night before due to excitement and travelling for 9 hours that day had made us very tired by this point. We didn’t want to wander too far away from the path that I was going to run, so we decided to find a patch of grass to lay our heads on.

Spreading my beach towel and lying down was great, but the drunken revelers surrounding us did not approve. That immediately began a barrage of stumbling over to chat every few minutes. A few even offered various drugs to help us stay awake. We didn’t really appreciate it, but I would have done the same thing in their situation – no one likes a party pooper. We wound up taking turns distracting the falleros enough for the other to get some shut-eye, but after a few hours we headed back to the alley we had previously chosen to run with the bulls.

In harmony with the rising of the sun, so also did the bull fences come to pass. We arrived at 6am and picked our spot as the crowd began to assemble around us. I planned to stay with Ashley until an hour before the run, and then meet up with her afterwards. However, the realization that no amount of super natural intervention could have allowed us to find each other after the running came quickly so I decided to stand with her and watch. We were also a little worried about each other’s safety, but I’m not sure who had a better reason. There was a risk of being impaled or trampled during the run, but after leaving the spectator’s crowd we were complaining of twisted bones and bruises for several hours later. After standing for three hours in a crowd the likes of a wine press, there was a flurry of activity, a pulse in the yelling of the crowd, and streaking red scarves as the runners ran by. I am able to relate this to you simply because I have a camera that I can lift far above my head and tilt the LCD screen down. We were on the second row and I could pinpoint zero bulls. Ashley saw a hoof.

Afterwards, the wine-press was released and we climbed over the fence in extreme disappointment. The first of many for that weekend, we learned. In an exhausted, frustrated, and slightly beaten state we sludged our way through the muck of the city left by the party last night back to the train station. It was pretty cool to see how advanced Pamplonian sanitation engineering is. They had tractors and brooms and leaf-blowers to pick up all the glass, plastic, and aluminum from the night before. Outside the train station we made camp on a nice grassy knoll among hundreds of other partiers and passed out for a few hours until it was time to get on the train.

Back in Barcelona, frustration after European frustration pounded our drained minds and bodies. My hostel was expenseive, scary, dirty, cramped, and disappointing. The bathrooms didn’t have toilet paper, the Chinese restaurant we had planned on eating at was closed, the coffee shop were Ashley always gets frappacinos didn’t have them, we got turned around, the Metro pass didn’t work. *Sigh* Whateryagonnado?

We gave up on our attempts to find decent food at a reasonable price and went back to Rosa Negra. The food there is awesome, and the pricing is, too. We spent the same amount of money we that we had spent in Pamplona, but ate a 3 course meal with no expense spared.

The next day we went to the beach and did absolutely nothing for the entire day – it was bliss.

Overall, the trip to Pamplona was just not worth it. We each spent 12 hours and 100 Euros on a train, 60 Euros in food and drink, 20 Euroes on souvenirs, and the experience with the running of the bulls was just not worth it. If you plan to go to Fiesta de San Fermín, you should only go if you plan to 1) Actually run with the bulls and have a sufficient group to do so, or 2) rent out one of the balconies that people own overlooking the street on the bull run.

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Barcelona

July 2nd, 2007, 10:59am

After having Ashley in Valencia for a weekend it was my turn to visit her in the city of Barcelona. Well, we had originally planned for me to visit her during her last weekend in Europe, July 12-15, but instead we decided to squeeze in a trip to Rome on that weekend, so I moved my travel arrangements forward a couple weeks.

Anyway, I arrived in Barcelona Friday afternoon. The hostel’s website said that the walk from the train station to their location was a short trip, but it turned out being a little longer than we anticipated. However, I was able to pick up a cheap European rolling suitcase for 20E on the way there. About eight minutes down the road I realized that I was missing my camera bag, which had about $700 worth of electronics in it! Leaving my big bag with Ashley, I sprinted back to the store and, luckily, was able to retrieve my camera. Nothing like misplacing the most valuable thing on you to start the weekend!

Checking into the hostel was relatively easy. I got my key and meal ticket and headed up to my 6-man room while Ashley waited in the lobby. It wasn’t luxurious, but the bed was comfortable and the place was very clean and safe. My roomates’ seemed to be German, but we didn’t really interact much besides hand waving me to where my bed and locker where.

After picking up a 10-trip metro ticket, we headed to Ciutdella Park to bask in the beauty and chat the evening away before heading to Rosa Negra for dinner, which Ashley had fallen in love with during her stay in Barcelona. Upon arriving it was quite apparent that several other Barcelonians had also falling in love with it, indicated by the 40 minute wait time. We were able to get our table and enjoy a wonderful meal of nachos, quesadillas, and a burrito. I even added some sliced jalepenos to get some enjoy some much-longed-for heat.

In the morning we made our way to a little town outside of Barcelona called Figueres, home of the Salvador Dali art museum. The life, art, and museum by this man were incredible. He designed and filled the entire museum from the ground up. His art is very surreal and evokes thoughts of the fluidity and chaotic nature of time and space. His art ranges from drawings and paintings to sculpture installations and jewelry. Most of his works change shape and form from different perspectives. One drawings was of small puppet-like figures playing around a city street scene, but when you looked closer the outline of a man could be seen through the whole painting. There was even a room that when walking through it seemed like an odd room, but nothing too crazy. After climbing some steps and looking through a drastically concave lens the room clearly shows the image of a woman’s face. It’s a little hard to describe, but hopefully you get the picture. After seeing the museum I could safely say that Dali is one of my favorite artists.

One interesting sight we saw before boarding the train to get back to Barcelona was the guard for the local prison in Figueres. He was standing there looking quite menacing with a flak jacket and fully automatic submachine gun. I remembered seeing a similar enforcement officer at Fiesta de San Fermín and how these figures really gave Spain an edge in law enforcement. Crazy.

After arriving back in Barcelona, we met some of Ashley’s friends at the Fountains of Mont Juic to watch the spectacular light show that is put on there every night. The fountain itself is huge and then when all the lights and music combine with the 50 foot jets of water it creates an unmatched mingling of the senses. Beyond the big fountain there are cascading fountains that come all the way from the top of the hill from the National Art Museum to the bottom. The fountain show was probably the coolest thing I saw in Barcelona.

The next morning a mishap involving my cell phone and the prearranged meeting location set us back an hour or so, but luckily Ashley’s outstanding intuition was able to rescue me from the sprawling city. After apologies and regrouping we made our way the Picasso Museum, but since it was Free Saturday the line was incredibly long. Taking into account the unbearable heat, and the previous day of art, we didn’t feel too guilty walking away towards La Rambla. I know I’m from Texas and have been around heat plenty, but Barcelona has no breeze to offer any kind of relief – it’s like being in an oven.

A lot of Spanish cities have a street called La Rambla where merchants restaurants and tourists abound. It could be roughly equivolated with Main street in cities throughout America. That evening we made our way to the Barcelona Rambla and picked our way through the crowds, stopping to enjoy a street entertainer or have a look in one of the shops setup. There was also a gay parade going on and with the flamboyant flag waving and screaming topless women added to the spectacle of the time.

Overall, Barcelona was a lot of fun, but not somewhere I would go to too much effort to visit again. It was crowded like New York, but Spainards don’t know how to handle that. Walking through the street one must continually dodge old women with their puppies and other people who just don’t know how to get out of the way. The best part about Barcelona is the Metro. There are literally stops every few blocks all throughout the city. The trains run every 3-6 minutes, and it’s just really easy to get anywhere.

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Fiesta de San Juan

June 27th, 2007, 5:51pm

After the bullfight we went down to the beach, with the rest of Valencia, to celebrate the Fiesta de San Juan. I have never seen so many people on a beach before in my life. There were literally thousands of people packed everywhere. Party of the festival is to write your sins on a piece of paper and then to throw them into a fire as a symbol of purifying your soul, so on this night everywhere is allowed to build a fire on the beach. On top of the hundreds of fires, thousands of people, all kinds of food and drink vendors, there was a huge stage setup near the southern end of the beach that was pumping out dance music that could be heard across Mediterranean until the wee hours in the morning. Looking down the northern shore you could see fireworks and festivities going on along the entire length of the beach. It truly felt like we were celebrating with the entire nation of Spain.

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Corrida de Toros - Bullfight

June 25th, 2007, 5:50pm

On Saturday, I had tickets to the bullfight at Plaza de Toros in downtown Valencia. I had never seen an authentic bullfight before, and it was an intense and eye-opening experience! The seats we got were pretty cheap, but it really didn’t matter since the seating arrangement was so well suited for everyone to see. Even so, there were not very many people there at all. I would say the stadium was at about 40-45% capacity.

As the first bull charged into the ring, it was incredible how powerful and strong it was. At nearly 1300 pounds, it was apparent that this beast could plow through pretty much anything. The first matador was on horseback, and it was an amazing display of partnership between the man and the horse as the matador graciously led the horse just a few steps in front of the bull’s sharp and charging horns. With each barb that pierced the bull’s back he began to slow his hooves and quicken his breathing. Once the matador was ready for the kill he retrieved his sword from a peer outside the ring and quickly slid it between the giant heaving shoulders of the beast, straight into his heart. Dismounting the horse, the matador looked the bull in the eye until it bowed its battered knee in defeat. The crowd rose in cheer as one final blow severed the spinal nerve of the bull, sending it to the great beyond.

The second fight was the first of this matador’s bad day. The barbsmen ran towards the bull with their spikes and drove them in deep, all the while taunting him with their ever-elusive capes. The blood began dripping and the bull charged even more fiercely than before, a blood-rage overcoming him. The matador entered the ring and wore him down even more with his skillful hand and graceful movements. When the time came he raised his sword to strike, but when he did so, the bull moved and dodged his strike! With the help of the barbsmen, the bull was goaded away from the blade, which the matador then recovered. Again and a third time he tried, but only one third of the way in would the blade go! The next attempt was with a long spear-like device with a short blade at the end. The matador wore the bull down and taunted his head down to the dirt to expose the spinal cord that connected the brain to the rest of the body and with a lunge he stabbed, but still nothing! The bull raged in fury and the matador tried with all of his might to dodge him. Beaten and bloodied, the bull began to simply limp around the ring, but the matador would not give up. Again and again he lunged at the most sensitive location at the bull, but after 20 tries he could not sever the nerve! The matador left the ring in a fury knowing that he would be ridiculed for the day he let the bull leave the ring alive.

The next bull charged into the ring, the energy and fury of health contrasting the slaughter that had ended so brutally. After the barbs were placed and blood was dripping down the bull’s back the next matador stepped into the ring with his red cape and piercing sword. With swirling movements of grace he wore the bull down twisting and turning him about. And then the moment of truth came. The bull stood there face-to-face with the matador that had ripped at his flesh and humiliated him in front of the crowd. The matador dangled his cape by his knees, attracting the bull’s attention with slight ripples of movement while he raised his rapier high above his head, ready to sink the final blow. With a roar of intensity, he lunged with the sword thrusting its sharp blade through the ribs and into the chest of the bull. The thrust was stopped only by the hilt of the sword contacting the bull’s back and then the matador spun with lightening speed, to just barely miss being impaled by the bull’s blood-dripped and furious horns. With only a few minutes of life left, the bull limped around the outside of the ring before collapsing in death. The horses came to carry him away, but before he was gone the ear was severed and given to the matador for achieve a perfect kill.

As the horsemen with their Kevlar-armored and blindfolded steeds trotted into ring, the next bull charged in and heaved with all its might into the side of the horse. With horns lifting the horse off the ground the horseman buried his spear into the back of the bull and heaved back in an incredible display of brute force. While the horseman continued the shred the tendons in the bulls back the horse was almost toppled by the power, but the bull broke away just in time. The matador came and the deed was done, but the horse left the ring badly bruised from the impact it had survived.

Finally, the seventh bull came into the ring. The matador’s lunge was almost to the hilt, but a little short. It was however, true enough of to pierce the lung of the bull. As the blood rushed into the bull’s lung to attain the life-giving oxygen that it needed so badly, it unexpectedly took a wrong turn and gushed out of the bull’s mouth and nose. For several minutes the bull spewed massive amounts of dark blood from all three respiratory openings until finally laying down for the final peace allowed to all creatures.

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Friday in Valencia

June 24th, 2007, 5:49pm

I worked most of the day on Friday, but Ashley spent her time at the beach. I finally made it down there around 4:45pm, and man was it enjoyable. I had not spent a whole lot of time at the beach because I guess I just don’t have much time during the day, but it was just incredible. The waves and breeze felt so relaxing and soothing. It was hot, but not unbearably hot. Also, the water was really rather clean and not nearly as salty as the Gulf of Mexico – the only other saltwater beach I have been to. (Seattle doesn’t really have beaches, only rocks). Needless to say, I enjoyed simply laying in the sun and relaxing tremendously.

Afterwards, we met some friends downtown, again, and stayed out dancing until 5am. Gotta love that Spanish spirit!