Everything comes to an end. Even silly blogs. Yes, I returned to America ten months ago, and yes, no one is reading, but this blog was always self-serving -- a resource I could have and say, Yah, that moment was great. Yah, that's how that city felt. So I am officially making my final entry.
It isn't too late, because I haven't been on a plane since April 25, when I returned from my semestercation. On Thursday, I'm flying with my fellow Beacon editors to San Diego. Being on a plane again will be strange. There will be no Alps to look out over. And the seats probably won't be yellow. (That's okay.)
A year ago tonight, I made a pasta dinner with four friends in Dublin. Bow tie with pine nuts, capers, sun-dried tomato, and alfredo sauce. We saw a stand-up show. The headliner was Australian, and everyone had some laughs at our American expense. I drank a Blumer's and Bailey's on the rocks.
These are the brightest memories of my life.
It hurts sometimes. I ache to go back -- to the castle, to its mossy air, its lived-in feel, its magical social aura. Everyone had time for you at the castle. Everyone always listened, and everyone always knew what you were talking about. Their families and friends and loves were at home, too. And they missed them. At the castle, you didn't need to explain. You could just tell.
I don't know if I'll ever go back -- to the castle, to Nederland, to Europe. I would love to. But can I justify it? Maybe, maybe not. So just in case, I'll say, Goodbye, Europe. Thanks! You're all everyone says you are, and so much we could never say, no matter how hard we tried (especially not in Czech).
Goodbye, Europe, but not farewell. You'll always be in this blog and in pictures, you'll always be in my bonds with castle friends, and you'll always be in my daydreams.
Whenever I don't want to be in class, I go to Rome.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Monday, May 5, 2008
Nijmegen: where your clothes can smell like pot for free
I was pretty bored on Sunday, April 20, and decided to accompany my friends Lauren, Katie and Strauss (last name) to Nijmegen, a city we Castle-dwellers mostly got to know as a means of getting from A-B, but which also happens to be a great city in its own right.
We took the 70-minute bus ride (our Eurails were over) and got to Nijmegen around, oh, 4 or so or something. There were a lot of people at the outdoor cafes--families, groups of couples, contented old men--just enjoying the day. It was really nice out. We went to a really great falafel place, Maoh’s, whose proprietor thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of having real live Americans in his establishment. I’m afraid of getting falafel again; I think I’d be disappointed in how it measures up to Maoh’s.
We walked around the city for a while. It’s a really neat town--the oldest in the Netherlands. A lot of the city was closed, including supermarkets and most shops. Alas, we didn’t come to shop, so we weren’t disappointed.
After that, we went to a coffee shop. In such places, coffee is, in fact, an afterthought. I didn’t smoke anything; I just sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. And I got a little sleepy. And a little headachy, so Lauren and I went outside for air for a bit.
Katie and I had never experienced doner kebap, which, in Strauss’ opinion, needed to be rectified before we went back to the castle. So we split one. Doner is pretty much a gyro. It was ok, but really quite boring. It counts as cultural, and I’m glad to say I experienced it, but meh, I wouldn’t choose to eat it again.
We went back to the bus station, and I was in the mood for some more culture, so I bought a Lion bar. “It consists of wafer, caramel and rice crispies covered in milk chocolate” (Wikipedia). They don’t have them in America. That’s what made it cultural.
We hopped on the bus--the last bus ride I would take in the Netherlands--and rode back to the castle. It was fun, and definitely more fun than staring at Facebook on my computer.
We took the 70-minute bus ride (our Eurails were over) and got to Nijmegen around, oh, 4 or so or something. There were a lot of people at the outdoor cafes--families, groups of couples, contented old men--just enjoying the day. It was really nice out. We went to a really great falafel place, Maoh’s, whose proprietor thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of having real live Americans in his establishment. I’m afraid of getting falafel again; I think I’d be disappointed in how it measures up to Maoh’s.
We walked around the city for a while. It’s a really neat town--the oldest in the Netherlands. A lot of the city was closed, including supermarkets and most shops. Alas, we didn’t come to shop, so we weren’t disappointed.
After that, we went to a coffee shop. In such places, coffee is, in fact, an afterthought. I didn’t smoke anything; I just sat back and enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. And I got a little sleepy. And a little headachy, so Lauren and I went outside for air for a bit.
Katie and I had never experienced doner kebap, which, in Strauss’ opinion, needed to be rectified before we went back to the castle. So we split one. Doner is pretty much a gyro. It was ok, but really quite boring. It counts as cultural, and I’m glad to say I experienced it, but meh, I wouldn’t choose to eat it again.
We went back to the bus station, and I was in the mood for some more culture, so I bought a Lion bar. “It consists of wafer, caramel and rice crispies covered in milk chocolate” (Wikipedia). They don’t have them in America. That’s what made it cultural.
We hopped on the bus--the last bus ride I would take in the Netherlands--and rode back to the castle. It was fun, and definitely more fun than staring at Facebook on my computer.
Cologne. Understated but nice-smelling.
There was still one more city I wanted to see: Cologne. Thursday was a make-up class/reading day and I had no commitments, so I got up early for breakfast and hopped on a bus to take me to the train to take me to Germany’s fourth-largest city, and the last city I would visit on my semester-long vacation.
Damnit. I forgot my Eurail pass.
So I took the bus back to the castle, unearthed my Eurail from my desk drawer and took the bus, for a second time, to Venray. By this point, I’ve realized that half of traveling is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something always goes wrong. Always. Don’t try to avoid or run away from it. It just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it but adapt.
I got to Cologne around 12:30 and took on the city’s largest, most impressive sight: the Kolner Dom (Cologne Cathedral). I have seen so many cathedrals in the past few months, my head might explode, but the Dom was very cool, and shows a very different mood of cathedral building.
The high Gothic architecture design and dark stone used for its construction, the Dom looks positively German--weathered, serious, formidable and grave. The rest of Cologne was bombed extensively by the Allies during WWII, but the Dom stood proud, enduring 14 bombings. If it suffered any damage, you can’t tell now. This is true of the rest of the Cologne, too. In this way, it’s no Berlin.
I climbed the steps to the top of the Dom’s bell tower--five hundred and something steps. My legs, strengthened from walking around while traveling, ached as I climbed, but I made it, breathing heavily but in good condition. I passed many stragglers on the way up. Leaning against the wall; holding their sides; wheezing--these folks didn’t know what they were in for. Amateurs.
The view was really nice. Cologne has a population of nearly 1 million, but the metropolis is pretty compact. A river runs through the city (a river runs through every European city; or an ocean) and relaxed mountains trace the horizon. It was such a warm, clear day. It was worth the climb.
The Dom is the only major sight in Cologne, so I spent the rest of my day there walking around. I found a bookstore and went in. I do this in every city I go to, irrespective of language. It’s cool to see which English-language/American books pervade different markets. I saw Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and a whole bunch of Nick Hornby books. I went to the English-language section (always a highlight) and picked up On The Road. Man. Kerouac is so cool; I’m getting that book the moment I get back.
There was a Dunkin Donuts in Cologne, but I
didn’t want to consume caffeine (they don’t do decaf in Europe)
didn’t want to pay 3E50 for an iced coffee
didn’t want to be cliché
and didn’t want to have the upper of the coffee compete with the downer of the beer I wanted to drink. I would get my Dunks fix when I got back to the US. It’s only another week and a day.
I did, though, get a gelato and a Ritter Sport. This is a mandatory part of my city-seeing methodology: cheap, high-energy fuel while I walk around. I also got half-liter can of a beer-cola blend. It was cultural. I just figured--being in Deutschland--it was something I should do.
I walked down Cologne’s main street. It looked and sounded like Downtown Crossing. There were a lot of people out for a Thursday afternoon, and the people were very vibrant.
I was starting to get sleepy, and I wanted to get back to dinner, so I left on a train around 4. My train was supposed to take me from A to B, but when it got three-fourths of the way to B, it started going back towards A. It’s times like these I wish I speak German. Sigh.
So I appraised the map, and, after ascertaining what was going on, I jumped off of a moving train. Audrey has chastised me for this, but I don’t think it was that dangerous. The train had was just starting to leave the station and was only going about 5mph (8kph).
So I was in some small German town whose only visible residents were some kids playing in a backyard and a few teenagers doing a lot of nothing next to a crosswalk. I really had to pee, so I found a secluded spot and took care of that. There is no way I’m paying money to go to the bathroom.
I waited for a while and then took the train going back towards B. There was track construction going on, so we had to take shuttle buses to our destination. Sheesh. I took a bus from Venlo back to the castle. It took me so long to get back, I missed dinner. Meh. I don’t mind. I have other food.
Damnit. I forgot my Eurail pass.
So I took the bus back to the castle, unearthed my Eurail from my desk drawer and took the bus, for a second time, to Venray. By this point, I’ve realized that half of traveling is waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something always goes wrong. Always. Don’t try to avoid or run away from it. It just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it but adapt.
I got to Cologne around 12:30 and took on the city’s largest, most impressive sight: the Kolner Dom (Cologne Cathedral). I have seen so many cathedrals in the past few months, my head might explode, but the Dom was very cool, and shows a very different mood of cathedral building.
The high Gothic architecture design and dark stone used for its construction, the Dom looks positively German--weathered, serious, formidable and grave. The rest of Cologne was bombed extensively by the Allies during WWII, but the Dom stood proud, enduring 14 bombings. If it suffered any damage, you can’t tell now. This is true of the rest of the Cologne, too. In this way, it’s no Berlin.
I climbed the steps to the top of the Dom’s bell tower--five hundred and something steps. My legs, strengthened from walking around while traveling, ached as I climbed, but I made it, breathing heavily but in good condition. I passed many stragglers on the way up. Leaning against the wall; holding their sides; wheezing--these folks didn’t know what they were in for. Amateurs.
The view was really nice. Cologne has a population of nearly 1 million, but the metropolis is pretty compact. A river runs through the city (a river runs through every European city; or an ocean) and relaxed mountains trace the horizon. It was such a warm, clear day. It was worth the climb.
The Dom is the only major sight in Cologne, so I spent the rest of my day there walking around. I found a bookstore and went in. I do this in every city I go to, irrespective of language. It’s cool to see which English-language/American books pervade different markets. I saw Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and a whole bunch of Nick Hornby books. I went to the English-language section (always a highlight) and picked up On The Road. Man. Kerouac is so cool; I’m getting that book the moment I get back.
There was a Dunkin Donuts in Cologne, but I
didn’t want to consume caffeine (they don’t do decaf in Europe)
didn’t want to pay 3E50 for an iced coffee
didn’t want to be cliché
and didn’t want to have the upper of the coffee compete with the downer of the beer I wanted to drink. I would get my Dunks fix when I got back to the US. It’s only another week and a day.
I did, though, get a gelato and a Ritter Sport. This is a mandatory part of my city-seeing methodology: cheap, high-energy fuel while I walk around. I also got half-liter can of a beer-cola blend. It was cultural. I just figured--being in Deutschland--it was something I should do.
I walked down Cologne’s main street. It looked and sounded like Downtown Crossing. There were a lot of people out for a Thursday afternoon, and the people were very vibrant.
I was starting to get sleepy, and I wanted to get back to dinner, so I left on a train around 4. My train was supposed to take me from A to B, but when it got three-fourths of the way to B, it started going back towards A. It’s times like these I wish I speak German. Sigh.
So I appraised the map, and, after ascertaining what was going on, I jumped off of a moving train. Audrey has chastised me for this, but I don’t think it was that dangerous. The train had was just starting to leave the station and was only going about 5mph (8kph).
So I was in some small German town whose only visible residents were some kids playing in a backyard and a few teenagers doing a lot of nothing next to a crosswalk. I really had to pee, so I found a secluded spot and took care of that. There is no way I’m paying money to go to the bathroom.
I waited for a while and then took the train going back towards B. There was track construction going on, so we had to take shuttle buses to our destination. Sheesh. I took a bus from Venlo back to the castle. It took me so long to get back, I missed dinner. Meh. I don’t mind. I have other food.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Ciao Bella: Chris in Italia
This weekend, I traveled with a grotesquely-filled backpack and a still-unquenched desire to see Italy, the last major destination of my travels. I tried to get a couple of other people to go with me, but alas, they couldn’t come. But no matter: I went alone.
Wednesday, 4/9
I left on Wednesday morning, so I had to skip my three Wednesday classes. Whatever dude. I used the class cuts to use, and I wasn’t nursing a hangover, I was going to Italy. My decision was justified.
I was on the same flight as Kevin, Brian and Greg (who were also traveling to Italy that weekend), so we took the same cab to Weeze airport. The flight was to an airport outside of Milan, and we took a shuttle to Milano Centrale, Milan’s main train station, not the hub of Pepperidge Farm cookie production.
Milano Centrale was the most confusing place in the universe, and my difficulty in deciphering the signs and geography of the station was coupled by a complete lack of anyone who was willing to answer questions with any level of specificity. I asked the information desk where I could make a reservation for a seat, and they said “downstairs.” This building is the size of Rowley. Could you narrow it down any?
I missed my train on account of not being able to find it on the departure board and nearly being swallowed by a crowd of rush-houring Italians. I switched my reservation and got on my train. Our flight to Milan took less than two hours, but my train ride from Milan to Rome took four and a half. I didn’t get into Rome until 10 p.m. Not funny, Italy. Not funny.
Also not funny is that the Rome metro closes at 10 p.m. The directions to my hostel--a camping village on the outer reaches of the city--told me to take the metro. Well, I would, hostel directions, but the metro’s closed! At 10 p.m.!
I left Rome’s main train station and approached a bus to ask how to get to line 246, the bus that would take me to my hostel. Thankfully, my guardian angel--a 55-year-old Italian man with well-groomed facial hair, a tan blazer and an issue of Vanity Fair Italia--saved me from certain disorientation. The way to bus 246 was on his way home, which was very fortunate for me. He spoke English well enough to understand how infinitely thankful I was for his help. I got to my hostel around midnight and promptly passed out.
Thursday, 4/10
I fell asleep around midnight, so I was able to get up and at ‘em pretty early, which was nice. I decided I would take on the Vatican first. Saint Peter’s Cathedral is so large, so vast, it seemed one could fit Sacre-Coeur or any other church I’ve seen inside of it. I went to a mass in one of the chapels (although the level of my participation in the Italian-language service was limited) and strolled around inside the cathedral, looking at the art and architecture. Wow.
When I left San Pietro, I noticed there were a large amount of people heading for a building down on the side of the cathedral. It was the Papal crypt, where Popes are buried and memorialized. John Paul II’s mausoleum is white and plainly decorated, and bright. I was really glad I got to see that.
I decided I didn’t want to wait through the endless lines and pay the 8 Euro ($13) to get into the Vatican Museums, at the end of which is the Sistine Chapel. Maybe if there were other people with me, I would have been more excited about it, but I just didn’t have it in me.
Rome only has two metro lines, and its bus lines are winding and poorly marked. I would have just walked around Rome (and I tried), but the city is just too expansive. I wanted to go a specific neighborhood for lunch, but I couldn’t manage to figure out the buses (and I rode quite a few of them) before hunger overtook me. There are a lot of small shops that sell pizza by weight, which can get you some reasonable deals for a quick lunch. I had zucchini (which was a white pizza) and margarita. The fungi (mushroom) pizza I had on Friday was much better, though. I spent a lot of my afternoon walking around, not quite sure where I was, slightly frustrated but still enjoying the atmosphere. And eating gelato.
The Coliseum is as cool as you think it would be, and also surprisingly integrated into the city; there were roads and buildings all around it. There was also a political rally-concert going on on the lawn right next to the Coliseum, pumping up supporters for conservative Silvio Berlusconi, whose party was victorious in the April 13-14 parliamentary elections. It was really cool to see the election placards all over the city. There are 10 or so political parties (that I could observe), so all the political advertising and imagery was really interesting to look at.
I went and saw the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. They were cool and there were a lot of people looking at them.
I had a great, mid-range dinner at a place recommended in my travel guide. I had insalate with lettuce, tomato, tuna, olives, and mozzarella. I got free bread and water, too. There was a huge pack of kids from Notre Dame (Michigan) University there. They were quite wine drunk. The owner was a really personable Italian guy, and he gave me a dessert of sugared strawberries and a glass of port to top it all off. All this for 7 Euro! It was a really great dinner. It would have been very depressing to have left Rome without a nice meal at a place like this. I got gelato again (don’t judge me) and headed back to my hostel, which was an adventure in itself.
Friday, 4/11
When I rode the bus this morning, I was the most crowded I’ve ever been in my life. Some French idiots decided it was a good idea to jump onto the already too-full bus, which then made the bus so full its doors couldn’t open to let anyone in or out! Yes! I forced my way through the doors (it took all my weight and effort to get the door open) and went to an outdoor market. It was raining--and it was raining for about half the time I was in Italy--and the market had awnings overhead, so I was protected from the rain. I bought an apple, a pastry and 1 Euro Italian toothpaste (I needed some).
I sent a postcard at the post office in Rome Termini (the city’s central train station), and walked north of the station. I didn’t want to do any more sightseeing, even though there was a lot more to see. Whatever, dude. I just wanted to walk, so that’s what I did.
On Thursday, I had instant messaged my friend Britt, after seeing she was planning to go to Rome and Florence this weekend! Britt goes to Emerson and is currently doing a semester in Greece. This was such a cool coincidence, and a very welcome one, at that. Having been alone since Wednesday, I was starting to go slightly crazy. I was thankful to meet with Britt for my journey to Florence.
Well, that journey didn’t go so well. We got on a train and went past Florence (the train didn’t stop at Florence’s main station like we had expected), got on another train that we thought was taking us back towards Florence but was really taking us further away and then waited on a platform in some deserted station until a train finally came to take us back to Florence (but for real this time). We got to the city around 11. We felt pretty dumb. I went to find my hostel, which was about a 15-minute walk from the station (Florence is very small and very walkable). This walk was prolonged by pouring rain. Hooray! Upon arriving at my hostel, I slept.
Saturday, 4/12
It was difficult to get up this morning. But after mustering up the will, I did. I went and got a pastry (a butter cookie with nutella in the middle) for breakfast and explored the city. I saw the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge) and proceeded with my unscientific but tried and true method of seeing a city: walking around. I had pappa al pomodoro for lunch. It’s a tuscan Tomato stewy soup (or soupy stew) made with garlic, olive oil, basil, broth and bread (for thickening). It was a little sweet--I could’ve used some cheese--but really fresh and really good. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw a huge crowd of Italians waiting in front of this cafeteria thing. You could tell it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill pizza/pasta stand.
The indoor market (Mercato Centrale) was really neat. Outside were a bunch of booths trying to sell you poorly-made pashtima scarves and jewelry. They were too aggressive. If you want me to look at your stand, give me air. If you want me to not look at your stand, tell me you have the stuff in the market and you’ll give me the best price. Baaaaaaack off. I didn’t buy anything.
I walked over to the Duomo, which is a really unique-looking church. The emphasis was the patterned decoration and the really intricate detailing, not the architecture (not to sell the architecture short).
At this point, I hit the wall. I went back to the hostel to read a little and take a nap.
For dinner, I met up with Britt and her friend Alina. We went to Spera, a hole-in-the-wall pizza place on the outside of the city center. I got a Napoli pizza for less than 4 Euro! I don’t know how they make money off that (we got wine, so there’s the answer, I guess).
I had to get up very early Sunday morning, so I went back and went to sleep.
Sunday, 4/13
I got up at 6:30. My train was at 8:14 and I ended up having way too much time, but I wasn’t taking any chances with missing my train (out of not having enough time or out of confusion). If I missed that train, I was going to miss my flight. On the whole, it was a long and unfun day of traveling.
The Tuscan countryside kept me awake, even though I usually nap on trains. The hills and quant villas are really cool and really personable. I got to Milano Centrale at 11, and from there took a shuttle bus to the airport. I did have to take a lap around the station to find where the shuttle bus was (the ticket agent said “outside”), but I found it. The bus cost 8 Euro ($13). These ticky-tack hidden costs really added up over the course of the semester.
I arrived at the airport almost too soon to check-in (I was NOT missing this flight). I hit up the duty-free shop for a liquid gift to bring home. My iPod was dead, which sucked, and on the flight I was too tired to read and too uncomfortable to sleep. Whatever. I was almost home.
From Weeze I took a taxi service (for 15 Euroà$24), which dropped me off right where the buses that go through Well do. It was a long day and a long weekend and I’d had enough, for the time being, of being my own company. But the castle’s become my home, and home I was.
I went on a day trip to Cologne Thursday and to Nijmegen, a city here in the Netherlands, yesterday. I'll post about those later--maybe not until I have my feet back on the ground in the United States. I leave Friday! Pray for my travels...US Airways has already been playing some practical jokes on me!
Wednesday, 4/9
I left on Wednesday morning, so I had to skip my three Wednesday classes. Whatever dude. I used the class cuts to use, and I wasn’t nursing a hangover, I was going to Italy. My decision was justified.
I was on the same flight as Kevin, Brian and Greg (who were also traveling to Italy that weekend), so we took the same cab to Weeze airport. The flight was to an airport outside of Milan, and we took a shuttle to Milano Centrale, Milan’s main train station, not the hub of Pepperidge Farm cookie production.
Milano Centrale was the most confusing place in the universe, and my difficulty in deciphering the signs and geography of the station was coupled by a complete lack of anyone who was willing to answer questions with any level of specificity. I asked the information desk where I could make a reservation for a seat, and they said “downstairs.” This building is the size of Rowley. Could you narrow it down any?
I missed my train on account of not being able to find it on the departure board and nearly being swallowed by a crowd of rush-houring Italians. I switched my reservation and got on my train. Our flight to Milan took less than two hours, but my train ride from Milan to Rome took four and a half. I didn’t get into Rome until 10 p.m. Not funny, Italy. Not funny.
Also not funny is that the Rome metro closes at 10 p.m. The directions to my hostel--a camping village on the outer reaches of the city--told me to take the metro. Well, I would, hostel directions, but the metro’s closed! At 10 p.m.!
I left Rome’s main train station and approached a bus to ask how to get to line 246, the bus that would take me to my hostel. Thankfully, my guardian angel--a 55-year-old Italian man with well-groomed facial hair, a tan blazer and an issue of Vanity Fair Italia--saved me from certain disorientation. The way to bus 246 was on his way home, which was very fortunate for me. He spoke English well enough to understand how infinitely thankful I was for his help. I got to my hostel around midnight and promptly passed out.
Thursday, 4/10
I fell asleep around midnight, so I was able to get up and at ‘em pretty early, which was nice. I decided I would take on the Vatican first. Saint Peter’s Cathedral is so large, so vast, it seemed one could fit Sacre-Coeur or any other church I’ve seen inside of it. I went to a mass in one of the chapels (although the level of my participation in the Italian-language service was limited) and strolled around inside the cathedral, looking at the art and architecture. Wow.
When I left San Pietro, I noticed there were a large amount of people heading for a building down on the side of the cathedral. It was the Papal crypt, where Popes are buried and memorialized. John Paul II’s mausoleum is white and plainly decorated, and bright. I was really glad I got to see that.
I decided I didn’t want to wait through the endless lines and pay the 8 Euro ($13) to get into the Vatican Museums, at the end of which is the Sistine Chapel. Maybe if there were other people with me, I would have been more excited about it, but I just didn’t have it in me.
Rome only has two metro lines, and its bus lines are winding and poorly marked. I would have just walked around Rome (and I tried), but the city is just too expansive. I wanted to go a specific neighborhood for lunch, but I couldn’t manage to figure out the buses (and I rode quite a few of them) before hunger overtook me. There are a lot of small shops that sell pizza by weight, which can get you some reasonable deals for a quick lunch. I had zucchini (which was a white pizza) and margarita. The fungi (mushroom) pizza I had on Friday was much better, though. I spent a lot of my afternoon walking around, not quite sure where I was, slightly frustrated but still enjoying the atmosphere. And eating gelato.
The Coliseum is as cool as you think it would be, and also surprisingly integrated into the city; there were roads and buildings all around it. There was also a political rally-concert going on on the lawn right next to the Coliseum, pumping up supporters for conservative Silvio Berlusconi, whose party was victorious in the April 13-14 parliamentary elections. It was really cool to see the election placards all over the city. There are 10 or so political parties (that I could observe), so all the political advertising and imagery was really interesting to look at.
I went and saw the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. They were cool and there were a lot of people looking at them.
I had a great, mid-range dinner at a place recommended in my travel guide. I had insalate with lettuce, tomato, tuna, olives, and mozzarella. I got free bread and water, too. There was a huge pack of kids from Notre Dame (Michigan) University there. They were quite wine drunk. The owner was a really personable Italian guy, and he gave me a dessert of sugared strawberries and a glass of port to top it all off. All this for 7 Euro! It was a really great dinner. It would have been very depressing to have left Rome without a nice meal at a place like this. I got gelato again (don’t judge me) and headed back to my hostel, which was an adventure in itself.
Friday, 4/11
When I rode the bus this morning, I was the most crowded I’ve ever been in my life. Some French idiots decided it was a good idea to jump onto the already too-full bus, which then made the bus so full its doors couldn’t open to let anyone in or out! Yes! I forced my way through the doors (it took all my weight and effort to get the door open) and went to an outdoor market. It was raining--and it was raining for about half the time I was in Italy--and the market had awnings overhead, so I was protected from the rain. I bought an apple, a pastry and 1 Euro Italian toothpaste (I needed some).
I sent a postcard at the post office in Rome Termini (the city’s central train station), and walked north of the station. I didn’t want to do any more sightseeing, even though there was a lot more to see. Whatever, dude. I just wanted to walk, so that’s what I did.
On Thursday, I had instant messaged my friend Britt, after seeing she was planning to go to Rome and Florence this weekend! Britt goes to Emerson and is currently doing a semester in Greece. This was such a cool coincidence, and a very welcome one, at that. Having been alone since Wednesday, I was starting to go slightly crazy. I was thankful to meet with Britt for my journey to Florence.
Well, that journey didn’t go so well. We got on a train and went past Florence (the train didn’t stop at Florence’s main station like we had expected), got on another train that we thought was taking us back towards Florence but was really taking us further away and then waited on a platform in some deserted station until a train finally came to take us back to Florence (but for real this time). We got to the city around 11. We felt pretty dumb. I went to find my hostel, which was about a 15-minute walk from the station (Florence is very small and very walkable). This walk was prolonged by pouring rain. Hooray! Upon arriving at my hostel, I slept.
Saturday, 4/12
It was difficult to get up this morning. But after mustering up the will, I did. I went and got a pastry (a butter cookie with nutella in the middle) for breakfast and explored the city. I saw the Ponte Vecchio (old bridge) and proceeded with my unscientific but tried and true method of seeing a city: walking around. I had pappa al pomodoro for lunch. It’s a tuscan Tomato stewy soup (or soupy stew) made with garlic, olive oil, basil, broth and bread (for thickening). It was a little sweet--I could’ve used some cheese--but really fresh and really good. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw a huge crowd of Italians waiting in front of this cafeteria thing. You could tell it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill pizza/pasta stand.
The indoor market (Mercato Centrale) was really neat. Outside were a bunch of booths trying to sell you poorly-made pashtima scarves and jewelry. They were too aggressive. If you want me to look at your stand, give me air. If you want me to not look at your stand, tell me you have the stuff in the market and you’ll give me the best price. Baaaaaaack off. I didn’t buy anything.
I walked over to the Duomo, which is a really unique-looking church. The emphasis was the patterned decoration and the really intricate detailing, not the architecture (not to sell the architecture short).
At this point, I hit the wall. I went back to the hostel to read a little and take a nap.
For dinner, I met up with Britt and her friend Alina. We went to Spera, a hole-in-the-wall pizza place on the outside of the city center. I got a Napoli pizza for less than 4 Euro! I don’t know how they make money off that (we got wine, so there’s the answer, I guess).
I had to get up very early Sunday morning, so I went back and went to sleep.
Sunday, 4/13
I got up at 6:30. My train was at 8:14 and I ended up having way too much time, but I wasn’t taking any chances with missing my train (out of not having enough time or out of confusion). If I missed that train, I was going to miss my flight. On the whole, it was a long and unfun day of traveling.
The Tuscan countryside kept me awake, even though I usually nap on trains. The hills and quant villas are really cool and really personable. I got to Milano Centrale at 11, and from there took a shuttle bus to the airport. I did have to take a lap around the station to find where the shuttle bus was (the ticket agent said “outside”), but I found it. The bus cost 8 Euro ($13). These ticky-tack hidden costs really added up over the course of the semester.
I arrived at the airport almost too soon to check-in (I was NOT missing this flight). I hit up the duty-free shop for a liquid gift to bring home. My iPod was dead, which sucked, and on the flight I was too tired to read and too uncomfortable to sleep. Whatever. I was almost home.
From Weeze I took a taxi service (for 15 Euroà$24), which dropped me off right where the buses that go through Well do. It was a long day and a long weekend and I’d had enough, for the time being, of being my own company. But the castle’s become my home, and home I was.
I went on a day trip to Cologne Thursday and to Nijmegen, a city here in the Netherlands, yesterday. I'll post about those later--maybe not until I have my feet back on the ground in the United States. I leave Friday! Pray for my travels...US Airways has already been playing some practical jokes on me!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Croatian dreams and Barcelona breath
Tomorrow I'm going to Barcelona, but tonight I'm looking back on our past few days in Dubrovnik. It's been a very relaxing yet eventful five days, and I'll remember a lot of my stories for a long time to come.
Friday, 3/28
We got up at 6-a-freaking-clock-a.m. to start our first travel day. We packed lunches and boarded buses for Cologne at 7:30. We got to Cologne and sat around the terminal for two and a half hours before we could board. Not cool. Don't make me get up at 6 so I can sit around in a terminal. If you want to see an unhappy Chris, do exactly that. Terrible.
We flew to Split and landed at 2 or so. We went through passport control and took a short bus journey to an old Roman village, where we checked out ruins of an amphitheatre and some other stuff I was too thirsty to properly appreciate.
Split is about 4 hours from Dubrovnik, but the drive was made worth it by the immaculate Croatian countryside. The radiant blue of the sea up against the deep green of the pine trees on the seaside mountains. Our coach buses snakes in and out of the sunset, and I almost forgot how sleep deprived I was at that point.
We got to the hotel late—around 10:30—and we ate a spread our program director had the hotel prepare for us and (mercifully) went to bed.
Saturday, 3/29
Today we began with a walking tour of Dubrovnik. The city is incredibly old, and incredibly pretty. And it's walled. We walked up around the city wall, and I jumped up onto the wall itself and made people nervous. Whatever, dudes. I can handle it.
When you enter the walls of Dubrovnik (through the front gates), the city has one main pedestrian avenue. There is little vehicle traffic in the old city. Little alleyways shoot off to the left (further uphill) and to the right (closer to the ocean). The stone streets are winding and thin and clean. The whole city (minus the abundance of stray dogs and cats) was very clean.
I had a lunch of dried, sugared figs (from an outdoor market) and pizza and went to the Sponza Palace in the afternoon. What I got out of it is that the Croatians did what the rest of Europe did during the Renaissance but later and not quite as well. But admittedly, I wasn't paying very close attention. Most of us weren't. It was so warm and sunny outside, we just wanted to run around.
I had gelato three times today, at three different gelato shops. The business models were pretty American: inexpensive product (7 Kuna=1 Euro=$1.50), large servings and marginal quality. I mean, it was tasty, but not nearly as tasty as any other gelato I've had.
That night, I went to see Skup, one of the better-known plays written by Croatian playwright Martin Drzic. It was in Croatian, so I couldn't understand anything, but the costumes and sight gags were entertaining in and of themselves. It was only like $8 or something, so I thought it was worth it to experience some of Croatia's culture.
Sunday, 3/30
Today we were to go to Mostar, Bosnia, about a 3-hour trip away from Dubrovnik. We couldn't get into the country, though, because when after breakfast, four students asked if they should go get their passports, Johnny, one of the Emerson staff members, said "No, you won't need it." Well, we did, and thanks to Johnny's incompetence, we couldn't get into Bosnia. The ride to and from the border was amazingly picturesque, though, and we had a lot of time to nap and hang out.
When we got back, we went to the beach! I went into the water, which was extremely cold. Like, oh my god I can't breathe this is freeeeeeeeeezing cold. It was good to be in the sun. That made us all very happy. Ben, Meg, Lauren and I went to Restaurant Mea Culpa for dinner, where I got baked lasagne, and went back to the hotel. We went back into town to go to a small club, Fresh, which was mostly filled with American travelers, and then went back to the hotel.
We soon learned that we were lucky to have made it back without incident. On the walk back from the hotel tonight, thirteen (our of 80) Emerson students were jumped by a pack of drunken Croatian teenagers. A few of us were taken to the hospital, but no one got anything more physically severe than a black eye. It was a freak thing, I think. Some of the local Croatian seemed to be slightly disgruntled with the presence of Americans during the tourist off-season (although the town was still filled with tourists), but all-in-all, we were welcomed and our presence embraced. I don't think Dubrovnik is any more unfriendly or friendly to Americans than any other place I've been to. It could've just been a group of drunk-ass teenagers causing trouble, which can happen anywhere, irrespective of country, irrespective of our nationality.
Monday, 3/31
I was thinking about skipping the program this morning (if you have unused class cuts, you're allowed), but I got up anyways. We were going to go to the Modern History Museum, which focuses mostly on the Yugoslav conflict, but it was closed. Dulchia, the executive director of the program, verified that everything was open before we went to these places, but open/close times were quite Mediterranean—approximate and subject to change without notification.
After an abbreviated, improvisational tour of a memorial for those who died during the Yugoslav conflict, I went with my friend Brian to get a haircut! He found a place that charged only 50 Kuna ($11), and although my hair is now shorter than I like, it will grow back, and I don't have to put up with the chastisement of those around me to control my unwieldy hair. And now my head is a Croatian souvenir, too!
In the afternoon, the museum we had planned to go to was also closed, so we went to the modest Dubrovnik aquarium for about 30 minutes and then had the afternoon to ourselves. There was something that looked like it used to be a turtle tank. Now, it looks like it's a dead turtle tank.
Because we have two travel breaks and a slightly abbreviated semester, we need to use travel excursion programs towards academic hours requirements. The shortage of true classroom time is the reason the Kasteel Well is subject to rumblings of shutdown. So when these museums were closed, we needed to find replacements in order to appease the administrators back home. I've said it many times and I'll say it again: I can't believe we're getting college credit for this. It feels like a sabbatical.
We got seafood for dinner, which was something most of us agreed needed to happen while we were in Croatia, whose currency is relatively weak and whose seafood is very fresh.
Tuesday, 4/1
By the way, one of these nights, we had an earthquake, which we were told is a weekly occurrence in Dubrovnik. Many other people were waken up, but I slept through it, which is probably why I forget when it was.
Today was our last full day in Dubrovnik, and my group was supposed to go to what was advertised by Emerson student services as an impressionism gallery, so I was pretty excited. It turned out to be some really inferior modern art. Again, the program was short. Meh.
For lunch, we went to a nice vegetarian place called Nishta. We liked it so much and word got around so quick twenty people from Emerson went there for dinner that night.
That afternoon, we went to outside of Dubrovnik to see Trestno, where there is a nice renaissance-period villa and gardens. Some people swam in the water while others strolled amongst the fountains and trees. I took a nap on the docks in the sun. A relaxing afternoon.
Wednesday, 4/2
Today we went to Dubrovnik's synagogue/Jewish history museum. The area's Jewish community is much, much smaller than it once was. The museum and tour were interesting and short, and we were done before 11. I bought figs, an apple and a roll (to be accompanied by Barpy, a hazelnut crème which cost half as much as Nutella) for a snack on the plane. And then, of course, I bought gelato (Emerson students could rarely be seen with gelatoless hands in the city) and headed back to the hotel to catch a cab to the airport.
We got into Barcelona around 6, and took a bus to the city center and the metro to our apartment. (Yes! We got an apartment!) It cost us 21 Euro ($33) a night. It's completely worth it! We can cook our own meals (which will save us money while allowing us to eat and drink better, chill out in privacy and sleep in our own beds. I feel like a real person!
We took advantage of our cooking facilities by making a big meal. I did laundry, we watched a movie together and we went to bed happy.
Now, I’m writing from our apartment in Barcelona.
Thursday, 4/3
We started slow today, which was fine with all of us. We made a big breakfast and then split up: the girls went shopping and Ben, Jeff and I went to rent bikes down by the beach. But—reoccurring theme alert—we got gelato first. We rode around for a while and saw a lot of the city. The city's very cool. It's very modern; very New York. We returned the bikes (just 5 Euro for two hours) and went back to the apartment to meet up with the girls make dinner.
After that, we went to the hostel where most of our Emerson friends are staying to visit. There are probably 40 of us in the city, our of the 80 in the program. On Wednesday, flights were scarce out of Dubrovnik, and Barcelona is was an extremely popular choice for the second half of the travel break. We didn't know where the hostel was in the classical sense, but we did know the nearest metro stop and the name of the hostel. We found it easily. Ben and I decided that we're getting quite good at this!
After we went to the hostel bar, it was too late to take the metro (even though it was just past midnight), so we walked back to the apartment. It wasn't that far though.
And now, I’m writing back at the castle!
Friday, 4/4
We got up around the same time and made about the same breakfast and left the apartment at about the same time. We went to the beach, and even though it wasn't as warm as Thursday and we could tan or go swimming, it was still nice for a little while.
After that, we went to the Sagrada Familia, Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi's still-under construction magnum opus. Construction began in 1882, was interrupted by the death of Gaudi (who left full plans for the project) and the Spanish Civil War (in 1936) and is scheduled to be completed in 2026. It's the most mammoth cathedral I've ever seen. It made me sad, though. Building such huge churches was understandable in centuries past, but here and now, when we have such a firm grasp of the extent of the problems in the world, there are much more worthy things into which we should be pouring our money. God's hands and feet shouldn't be so self-indulged as to keep building massive basilicas. We have enough already.
Acts 17:24 (NIV): The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands.
Saturday, 4/5
We got up at 4:30 a.m. so we could leave the apartment, get on the metro at 5, take a bus at 5:45 and catch our 8:30 flight. We got back to the castle around 11, which we were all were thankful for. It was a great travel break (and much less costly than the first), and we have a lot of awesome things to look back on!
Ben and I leave for our last big trip on Wednesday. We're skipping 3 classes that day (which was planned and is sanctioned by the program) flying to Milan and continuing via train to Rome. On Friday, we'll pick up and go to Florence, and then train it back to Milan on Sunday morning for our return flight. People have said it's good I left Italy for last—now everything won't pale in comparison! It'll be a while before I write again. When I get back next Sunday, I have finals and stuff. Until then!
Friday, 3/28
We got up at 6-a-freaking-clock-a.m. to start our first travel day. We packed lunches and boarded buses for Cologne at 7:30. We got to Cologne and sat around the terminal for two and a half hours before we could board. Not cool. Don't make me get up at 6 so I can sit around in a terminal. If you want to see an unhappy Chris, do exactly that. Terrible.
We flew to Split and landed at 2 or so. We went through passport control and took a short bus journey to an old Roman village, where we checked out ruins of an amphitheatre and some other stuff I was too thirsty to properly appreciate.
Split is about 4 hours from Dubrovnik, but the drive was made worth it by the immaculate Croatian countryside. The radiant blue of the sea up against the deep green of the pine trees on the seaside mountains. Our coach buses snakes in and out of the sunset, and I almost forgot how sleep deprived I was at that point.
We got to the hotel late—around 10:30—and we ate a spread our program director had the hotel prepare for us and (mercifully) went to bed.
Saturday, 3/29
Today we began with a walking tour of Dubrovnik. The city is incredibly old, and incredibly pretty. And it's walled. We walked up around the city wall, and I jumped up onto the wall itself and made people nervous. Whatever, dudes. I can handle it.
When you enter the walls of Dubrovnik (through the front gates), the city has one main pedestrian avenue. There is little vehicle traffic in the old city. Little alleyways shoot off to the left (further uphill) and to the right (closer to the ocean). The stone streets are winding and thin and clean. The whole city (minus the abundance of stray dogs and cats) was very clean.
I had a lunch of dried, sugared figs (from an outdoor market) and pizza and went to the Sponza Palace in the afternoon. What I got out of it is that the Croatians did what the rest of Europe did during the Renaissance but later and not quite as well. But admittedly, I wasn't paying very close attention. Most of us weren't. It was so warm and sunny outside, we just wanted to run around.
I had gelato three times today, at three different gelato shops. The business models were pretty American: inexpensive product (7 Kuna=1 Euro=$1.50), large servings and marginal quality. I mean, it was tasty, but not nearly as tasty as any other gelato I've had.
That night, I went to see Skup, one of the better-known plays written by Croatian playwright Martin Drzic. It was in Croatian, so I couldn't understand anything, but the costumes and sight gags were entertaining in and of themselves. It was only like $8 or something, so I thought it was worth it to experience some of Croatia's culture.
Sunday, 3/30
Today we were to go to Mostar, Bosnia, about a 3-hour trip away from Dubrovnik. We couldn't get into the country, though, because when after breakfast, four students asked if they should go get their passports, Johnny, one of the Emerson staff members, said "No, you won't need it." Well, we did, and thanks to Johnny's incompetence, we couldn't get into Bosnia. The ride to and from the border was amazingly picturesque, though, and we had a lot of time to nap and hang out.
When we got back, we went to the beach! I went into the water, which was extremely cold. Like, oh my god I can't breathe this is freeeeeeeeeezing cold. It was good to be in the sun. That made us all very happy. Ben, Meg, Lauren and I went to Restaurant Mea Culpa for dinner, where I got baked lasagne, and went back to the hotel. We went back into town to go to a small club, Fresh, which was mostly filled with American travelers, and then went back to the hotel.
We soon learned that we were lucky to have made it back without incident. On the walk back from the hotel tonight, thirteen (our of 80) Emerson students were jumped by a pack of drunken Croatian teenagers. A few of us were taken to the hospital, but no one got anything more physically severe than a black eye. It was a freak thing, I think. Some of the local Croatian seemed to be slightly disgruntled with the presence of Americans during the tourist off-season (although the town was still filled with tourists), but all-in-all, we were welcomed and our presence embraced. I don't think Dubrovnik is any more unfriendly or friendly to Americans than any other place I've been to. It could've just been a group of drunk-ass teenagers causing trouble, which can happen anywhere, irrespective of country, irrespective of our nationality.
Monday, 3/31
I was thinking about skipping the program this morning (if you have unused class cuts, you're allowed), but I got up anyways. We were going to go to the Modern History Museum, which focuses mostly on the Yugoslav conflict, but it was closed. Dulchia, the executive director of the program, verified that everything was open before we went to these places, but open/close times were quite Mediterranean—approximate and subject to change without notification.
After an abbreviated, improvisational tour of a memorial for those who died during the Yugoslav conflict, I went with my friend Brian to get a haircut! He found a place that charged only 50 Kuna ($11), and although my hair is now shorter than I like, it will grow back, and I don't have to put up with the chastisement of those around me to control my unwieldy hair. And now my head is a Croatian souvenir, too!
In the afternoon, the museum we had planned to go to was also closed, so we went to the modest Dubrovnik aquarium for about 30 minutes and then had the afternoon to ourselves. There was something that looked like it used to be a turtle tank. Now, it looks like it's a dead turtle tank.
Because we have two travel breaks and a slightly abbreviated semester, we need to use travel excursion programs towards academic hours requirements. The shortage of true classroom time is the reason the Kasteel Well is subject to rumblings of shutdown. So when these museums were closed, we needed to find replacements in order to appease the administrators back home. I've said it many times and I'll say it again: I can't believe we're getting college credit for this. It feels like a sabbatical.
We got seafood for dinner, which was something most of us agreed needed to happen while we were in Croatia, whose currency is relatively weak and whose seafood is very fresh.
Tuesday, 4/1
By the way, one of these nights, we had an earthquake, which we were told is a weekly occurrence in Dubrovnik. Many other people were waken up, but I slept through it, which is probably why I forget when it was.
Today was our last full day in Dubrovnik, and my group was supposed to go to what was advertised by Emerson student services as an impressionism gallery, so I was pretty excited. It turned out to be some really inferior modern art. Again, the program was short. Meh.
For lunch, we went to a nice vegetarian place called Nishta. We liked it so much and word got around so quick twenty people from Emerson went there for dinner that night.
That afternoon, we went to outside of Dubrovnik to see Trestno, where there is a nice renaissance-period villa and gardens. Some people swam in the water while others strolled amongst the fountains and trees. I took a nap on the docks in the sun. A relaxing afternoon.
Wednesday, 4/2
Today we went to Dubrovnik's synagogue/Jewish history museum. The area's Jewish community is much, much smaller than it once was. The museum and tour were interesting and short, and we were done before 11. I bought figs, an apple and a roll (to be accompanied by Barpy, a hazelnut crème which cost half as much as Nutella) for a snack on the plane. And then, of course, I bought gelato (Emerson students could rarely be seen with gelatoless hands in the city) and headed back to the hotel to catch a cab to the airport.
We got into Barcelona around 6, and took a bus to the city center and the metro to our apartment. (Yes! We got an apartment!) It cost us 21 Euro ($33) a night. It's completely worth it! We can cook our own meals (which will save us money while allowing us to eat and drink better, chill out in privacy and sleep in our own beds. I feel like a real person!
We took advantage of our cooking facilities by making a big meal. I did laundry, we watched a movie together and we went to bed happy.
Now, I’m writing from our apartment in Barcelona.
Thursday, 4/3
We started slow today, which was fine with all of us. We made a big breakfast and then split up: the girls went shopping and Ben, Jeff and I went to rent bikes down by the beach. But—reoccurring theme alert—we got gelato first. We rode around for a while and saw a lot of the city. The city's very cool. It's very modern; very New York. We returned the bikes (just 5 Euro for two hours) and went back to the apartment to meet up with the girls make dinner.
After that, we went to the hostel where most of our Emerson friends are staying to visit. There are probably 40 of us in the city, our of the 80 in the program. On Wednesday, flights were scarce out of Dubrovnik, and Barcelona is was an extremely popular choice for the second half of the travel break. We didn't know where the hostel was in the classical sense, but we did know the nearest metro stop and the name of the hostel. We found it easily. Ben and I decided that we're getting quite good at this!
After we went to the hostel bar, it was too late to take the metro (even though it was just past midnight), so we walked back to the apartment. It wasn't that far though.
And now, I’m writing back at the castle!
Friday, 4/4
We got up around the same time and made about the same breakfast and left the apartment at about the same time. We went to the beach, and even though it wasn't as warm as Thursday and we could tan or go swimming, it was still nice for a little while.
After that, we went to the Sagrada Familia, Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi's still-under construction magnum opus. Construction began in 1882, was interrupted by the death of Gaudi (who left full plans for the project) and the Spanish Civil War (in 1936) and is scheduled to be completed in 2026. It's the most mammoth cathedral I've ever seen. It made me sad, though. Building such huge churches was understandable in centuries past, but here and now, when we have such a firm grasp of the extent of the problems in the world, there are much more worthy things into which we should be pouring our money. God's hands and feet shouldn't be so self-indulged as to keep building massive basilicas. We have enough already.
Acts 17:24 (NIV): The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands.
Saturday, 4/5
We got up at 4:30 a.m. so we could leave the apartment, get on the metro at 5, take a bus at 5:45 and catch our 8:30 flight. We got back to the castle around 11, which we were all were thankful for. It was a great travel break (and much less costly than the first), and we have a lot of awesome things to look back on!
Ben and I leave for our last big trip on Wednesday. We're skipping 3 classes that day (which was planned and is sanctioned by the program) flying to Milan and continuing via train to Rome. On Friday, we'll pick up and go to Florence, and then train it back to Milan on Sunday morning for our return flight. People have said it's good I left Italy for last—now everything won't pale in comparison! It'll be a while before I write again. When I get back next Sunday, I have finals and stuff. Until then!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Un week-end incroyable
Finally: Paris.
From about the minute we got to the castle, this weekend was circled. Easter in Paris. Where better? Nowhere. My travel guide (thank you, Aunt Louise!) told me to avoid Paris on Easter, as it would be crowded, but it didn’t say when Paris isn’t crowded, because it never isn’t. We went, we saw and we conquered Paris.
But not from the start.
Friday / Vencredi
Right away, upon our arrival, I had to find an internet café for a phone interview I had arranged with the Boston Globe for a summer internship. (Because a late train and a subsequently missed connection, we arrived 90 minutes later than expected. My original plan was to use WiFi at the hostel.)
After my interview, we went to our hostel, but they didn’t have any open beds.
I have a reservation, though.
Booking ends at 6 p.m.
I booked it in February.
There are no open beds.
What about my reservation?
We stop booking at 6 p.m.
What do you expect me to do, leave? We came from the Netherlands. We can’t just go back home. It’s
Easter in Paris. It’s crowded. Where will we sleep?
Not here. We’re full.
Damnit. Fine. Refund my deposit.
You’ll have to talk to my boss tomorrow. I can’t refund your deposit.
But you can overbook when I have a reservation?
You’ll have to come back tomorrow.
Is this a real business, or is this just a way for you to sit here and scam everyone?
It was actually much more heated than that, but the essence remains: we’d made a reservation, they wouldn’t accept it, and I‘m out on my $35 deposit (I’m going to fight that, but I don’t think it’ll work). Some charitable Canadians gave us the phone number of a hostel/budget dormitory hotel that isn’t listed on the major hostel booking websites. We went back to the same internet café once more, and found a hostel that had empty beds. By then, it was freezing rain outside, and we could barely see. We finally got to the place around 11, and then passed out. Sometimes, things just don’t go your way. But we moved on, and by the next day it was nearly forgotten.
Saturday / Samedi
The good thing about the hostel thing is that I saved some money over the per night cost, and they had a good free breakfast, featuring cheese, Frosted Flakes and croissants. After breakfast, Ben (whom I was traveling with) went out to really introduce ourselves to Paris.
We started at the Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame. It was like 40F with fairly heavy rain and wind, and the line was terribly long, so we decided to do a lap around the cathedral and check that off the list. We were in no mood to stand in an outside line and catch pneumonia (though I don‘t know if I‘m ever in that mood).
We walked along and crossed la Seine. It was time to go to the Louvre. Before we saw any art, we purchased 2-day Paris museum passes, which ended up being a very wise investment. We looked at French sculpture for about an hour and French medieval painting for about another hour (this was a lot of time to spend on such small divisions of art, but the place is just as huge and impossible-to-take-on-in-one-trip as you hear about) before heading to the Italian Renaissance wing. La Jaconde—the Mona Lisa—looks just like it looks everywhere else, and it was a circus getting to a point where I could see and enjoy it (of course everyone had to have their photo of the thing). I’ll remember the pushing and shoving and desperation displayed by museum-goers more than the painting itself, but it was worth it. Not just from a “I’ve seen it” perspective, but as a piece of art, it shouldn’t be missed.
We walked down the mall to the obelisk at Concorde and then across to L’Hotel Des Invalides, the military museum. Our decision to go there was pretty much all you need to know about why Ben and I travel so well together…
Ben: What’s that?
Chris: Umm, let me find it here.
B: Let’s go to it.
C: Yah, it looks cool.
B: What is it?
C: Let’s go! Oh, yah. What is it. Let me look again
It was cool. They had really big cannons. Like, cannons that launched 600 pound balls-big cannons. And a lot of guns and swords. It was a very masculine museum, and that was welcome. After the museum, we went to Napoleon’s tomb, which is in the gold dome of L’Hotel Des Invalides. This was my favorite church (there were no pews, but it was sort of a church) I’d yet seen on the trip. There were stained glass windows of all-yellow and all -blue glass, which had such a cool effect. Napoleon also had (I’m sure he oversaw it all) different hues of marble and granite used to build it. Dude had good taste.
After that, it started to pour, so we retreated underground to the metro. We had seen a KFC the night before and hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so we decided it was a wonderful time to gorge ourselves on fried chicken. Bon appetite!
We went back to the hostel to call Alex and Marita, our friends who were also in Paris for the weekend, and met up with our them at Le Centre Pompidou—Paris’ main modern art museum. As can be expected with modern art, a lot of it was artistically inaccessible or just plain wacky, but it was all fun to look at, and, sometimes, make fun of.
We bid goodbye to the girls and proceeded to L’Arc De Triomphe. The arch stands in the middle of a massive, 8-land rotary, and it was fun to watch the traffic from the top of the arch. The view of Paris by night from the top was spectacular. We even saw the L’Tour Eiffel light show while we were up there! One thing we didn’t know that there’s an underground footbridge going to the arch, so we ran across the rotary to get there. Whoops. It’d been a full day, so we returned to the hostel and passed out.
Sunday / Diamanche
Easter morning, we got up early and went to Montmartre to see Sacre-Coeur, which unseated Napoleon’s tomb as my favorite basilica of the trip. The white granite is so beautiful. To get to the Sacre Coeur we had to climb a big hill (the highest point in Paris) and dodge the gauntlet of African bracelet harassers scattered around the hill. I’ll explain. At Paris’ biggest attractions—Le Tour Eiffel, Le Louvre, Sacre-Coeur—bands of men would try to tie a bracelet around your wrist and demand a donation to their cause (which I’m pretty sure was them).
Wow. It’s raining really hard. I’m on a train from Paris to a city in Northern Belgium, and I’m lucky I’m on it. My reservation (which are required for high speed trains) was for 6:55 p.m., but after trying 3 different ticket agents at customer service, I was able to alter my reservation to the 4:25 train. I had seen all I wanted to see and wanted to get home before midnight.
Anyway, Sacre-Coeur was amazing. We met up with Alex there and after going to the top, Alex and Ben departed to go back to the castle. I really wanted to stay in the city, so I did. I was at Sacre-Coeur on Easter morning, so I thought it was pretty perfect and pretty obvious: I should go to mass! Even though I could only pick up every few words (the mass was in French), I was able to sing along with the Latin and some of the chants were the same and the order of the mass was the same. I read the readings somewhat proficiently (although I had read the Gospel reading in English a short time ago). I had to stand in the back, but that was fine. I hadn’t been to a service since I left America, and I really wanted to go to one on Easter. I miss everyone back home, and it was a wonderful blessing to be able to go.
After the service, I walked around Montmartre and bought a baguette and some cheese from a store there. I walked around and took the Metro to L’Ile de la Cite again, to try my luck at Notre Dame once more. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, but there was an Easter mass going on, so instead, I bought a meringue puff from a patisserie and visited Sainte-Chappelle, a beautiful, 12-century church with unbelievable stained glass artisanry. All of the walls were covered with stained glass which depict Biblical scenes. The church was built to house the supposed relics of Christ, which prompted some to call Paris “New Jerusalem.” It was amazing.
I then walked along the Seine to the Musee D’Orsay, Paris’ impressionism hub. It’s my favorite artistic era, and I really enjoyed the museum. It closed at six, so I could only spend two hours there. I could’ve spent more.
I got on the Metro once again (I bought day passes for a paltry 3E20 on Sunday and Monday) to visit La Bastille. Once I got there, a monument gently reminded me that the Bastille no longer exists. The “storming of the Bastille” did a pretty thorough job making sure of that. The neighborhood, though, was my favorite in Paris. I bought a slice of strawberry cake from a patisserie (it sounded better than dinner at the time and I don’t regret the decision) and found a copy of A Farewell to Arms written in French. It was only 1E50 and I had finished that same book (and loved it) exactly seven days prior, so I figured it was a sign. A Hemingway is a ma souvenir Parisienne.
It was approaching nightfall, and I jumped on the metro to go to La Defense, a high-rise district outside Paris’ city limits. The futuristic architecture was the most impressive I’ve ever seen. It looked like a movie set. There’s a huge arch there that looks like L’Arc de Triomphe, except it’s bigger, plainer and contains an office building. I was really glad I made the trip out, and I took the RER (faster and more sprawling than the metro) back in to save myself some time. At this point, I was exhausted, so I did some Interneting back at the hostel, showered and went to sleep.
Monday / Lundi
Because I went to bed pretty early, I woke up at 7:30 a.m., almost like a real person. I ate breakfast, stashed my backpack in the luggage room and set off for the Eiffel Tower. I walked up the first two levels, but I didn’t go up to the top. I had seen the views from atop L’Arc and Sacre-Coeur, so I don’t feel remiss. The tower is really, really big. Really big. Not like tall, but big. Wide. The legs are horrifying. It was like the Death Star or something.
After the Eiffel Tower, I felt like anything that followed would be a letdown. I went to the Bois De Boulogne, Paris’ largest park, but after a few minutes of being completely exposed in the bitter wind I decided to scurry back into the neighborhood, where I had the protection of the buildings around me, at least. I happened upon an outdoor market, where I bought veggies and hummus, which I had been wanting for a while. I browsed the area a little bit and then went to the Latin Quarter.
The Latin Quarter was sometimes loud and touristy, but it had personality nonetheless. The streets were so tight and the shops so small, it reminded me of Prague. I ate un Croque-Monsieur, which I wanted to do while I was in Paris.
And that’s pretty much it. I went back to the hostel, registered for my classes online, found the times for trains earlier than my reservation and hi-tailed it on the Metro and RER to Station Du Nord. Because I had to rush to make the train, I didn’t get to buy a French food product (I was thinking some sort of cookies and/or wine, which is very cheap) to bring home. Oh well. Sometimes, things just don’t go your way. But this is petty compared to almost having to sleep in the metro on Friday night. I’ll just buy wine in Italy.
I did just buy a (made in) Belgium chocolate bar when I switched trains. Actually, I bought two so I could eat one.
On Friday, we leave for our second required travel break: Croatia! We were going to go to Prague, but they joined the Schengen immigration zone, so we had to travel outside of it (the London trips serve the same purpose). I’m very excited to go. Dubrovnik is a resort town, and hopefully it’ll be warm. The excursion includes a day to Bosnia, which I'm really excited about! On the second half of the trip, we’re going to Barcelona, where we’ll be able to relax on the beach and spend a lot of time not spending money. It may be two weeks or so until I write again, but it could be less! Au revoir, for now!
(I really did write this last night on the train. I just didn't get around to posting it till now.)
From about the minute we got to the castle, this weekend was circled. Easter in Paris. Where better? Nowhere. My travel guide (thank you, Aunt Louise!) told me to avoid Paris on Easter, as it would be crowded, but it didn’t say when Paris isn’t crowded, because it never isn’t. We went, we saw and we conquered Paris.
But not from the start.
Friday / Vencredi
Right away, upon our arrival, I had to find an internet café for a phone interview I had arranged with the Boston Globe for a summer internship. (Because a late train and a subsequently missed connection, we arrived 90 minutes later than expected. My original plan was to use WiFi at the hostel.)
After my interview, we went to our hostel, but they didn’t have any open beds.
I have a reservation, though.
Booking ends at 6 p.m.
I booked it in February.
There are no open beds.
What about my reservation?
We stop booking at 6 p.m.
What do you expect me to do, leave? We came from the Netherlands. We can’t just go back home. It’s
Easter in Paris. It’s crowded. Where will we sleep?
Not here. We’re full.
Damnit. Fine. Refund my deposit.
You’ll have to talk to my boss tomorrow. I can’t refund your deposit.
But you can overbook when I have a reservation?
You’ll have to come back tomorrow.
Is this a real business, or is this just a way for you to sit here and scam everyone?
It was actually much more heated than that, but the essence remains: we’d made a reservation, they wouldn’t accept it, and I‘m out on my $35 deposit (I’m going to fight that, but I don’t think it’ll work). Some charitable Canadians gave us the phone number of a hostel/budget dormitory hotel that isn’t listed on the major hostel booking websites. We went back to the same internet café once more, and found a hostel that had empty beds. By then, it was freezing rain outside, and we could barely see. We finally got to the place around 11, and then passed out. Sometimes, things just don’t go your way. But we moved on, and by the next day it was nearly forgotten.
Saturday / Samedi
The good thing about the hostel thing is that I saved some money over the per night cost, and they had a good free breakfast, featuring cheese, Frosted Flakes and croissants. After breakfast, Ben (whom I was traveling with) went out to really introduce ourselves to Paris.
We started at the Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame. It was like 40F with fairly heavy rain and wind, and the line was terribly long, so we decided to do a lap around the cathedral and check that off the list. We were in no mood to stand in an outside line and catch pneumonia (though I don‘t know if I‘m ever in that mood).
We walked along and crossed la Seine. It was time to go to the Louvre. Before we saw any art, we purchased 2-day Paris museum passes, which ended up being a very wise investment. We looked at French sculpture for about an hour and French medieval painting for about another hour (this was a lot of time to spend on such small divisions of art, but the place is just as huge and impossible-to-take-on-in-one-trip as you hear about) before heading to the Italian Renaissance wing. La Jaconde—the Mona Lisa—looks just like it looks everywhere else, and it was a circus getting to a point where I could see and enjoy it (of course everyone had to have their photo of the thing). I’ll remember the pushing and shoving and desperation displayed by museum-goers more than the painting itself, but it was worth it. Not just from a “I’ve seen it” perspective, but as a piece of art, it shouldn’t be missed.
We walked down the mall to the obelisk at Concorde and then across to L’Hotel Des Invalides, the military museum. Our decision to go there was pretty much all you need to know about why Ben and I travel so well together…
Ben: What’s that?
Chris: Umm, let me find it here.
B: Let’s go to it.
C: Yah, it looks cool.
B: What is it?
C: Let’s go! Oh, yah. What is it. Let me look again
It was cool. They had really big cannons. Like, cannons that launched 600 pound balls-big cannons. And a lot of guns and swords. It was a very masculine museum, and that was welcome. After the museum, we went to Napoleon’s tomb, which is in the gold dome of L’Hotel Des Invalides. This was my favorite church (there were no pews, but it was sort of a church) I’d yet seen on the trip. There were stained glass windows of all-yellow and all -blue glass, which had such a cool effect. Napoleon also had (I’m sure he oversaw it all) different hues of marble and granite used to build it. Dude had good taste.
After that, it started to pour, so we retreated underground to the metro. We had seen a KFC the night before and hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so we decided it was a wonderful time to gorge ourselves on fried chicken. Bon appetite!
We went back to the hostel to call Alex and Marita, our friends who were also in Paris for the weekend, and met up with our them at Le Centre Pompidou—Paris’ main modern art museum. As can be expected with modern art, a lot of it was artistically inaccessible or just plain wacky, but it was all fun to look at, and, sometimes, make fun of.
We bid goodbye to the girls and proceeded to L’Arc De Triomphe. The arch stands in the middle of a massive, 8-land rotary, and it was fun to watch the traffic from the top of the arch. The view of Paris by night from the top was spectacular. We even saw the L’Tour Eiffel light show while we were up there! One thing we didn’t know that there’s an underground footbridge going to the arch, so we ran across the rotary to get there. Whoops. It’d been a full day, so we returned to the hostel and passed out.
Sunday / Diamanche
Easter morning, we got up early and went to Montmartre to see Sacre-Coeur, which unseated Napoleon’s tomb as my favorite basilica of the trip. The white granite is so beautiful. To get to the Sacre Coeur we had to climb a big hill (the highest point in Paris) and dodge the gauntlet of African bracelet harassers scattered around the hill. I’ll explain. At Paris’ biggest attractions—Le Tour Eiffel, Le Louvre, Sacre-Coeur—bands of men would try to tie a bracelet around your wrist and demand a donation to their cause (which I’m pretty sure was them).
Wow. It’s raining really hard. I’m on a train from Paris to a city in Northern Belgium, and I’m lucky I’m on it. My reservation (which are required for high speed trains) was for 6:55 p.m., but after trying 3 different ticket agents at customer service, I was able to alter my reservation to the 4:25 train. I had seen all I wanted to see and wanted to get home before midnight.
Anyway, Sacre-Coeur was amazing. We met up with Alex there and after going to the top, Alex and Ben departed to go back to the castle. I really wanted to stay in the city, so I did. I was at Sacre-Coeur on Easter morning, so I thought it was pretty perfect and pretty obvious: I should go to mass! Even though I could only pick up every few words (the mass was in French), I was able to sing along with the Latin and some of the chants were the same and the order of the mass was the same. I read the readings somewhat proficiently (although I had read the Gospel reading in English a short time ago). I had to stand in the back, but that was fine. I hadn’t been to a service since I left America, and I really wanted to go to one on Easter. I miss everyone back home, and it was a wonderful blessing to be able to go.
After the service, I walked around Montmartre and bought a baguette and some cheese from a store there. I walked around and took the Metro to L’Ile de la Cite again, to try my luck at Notre Dame once more. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it, but there was an Easter mass going on, so instead, I bought a meringue puff from a patisserie and visited Sainte-Chappelle, a beautiful, 12-century church with unbelievable stained glass artisanry. All of the walls were covered with stained glass which depict Biblical scenes. The church was built to house the supposed relics of Christ, which prompted some to call Paris “New Jerusalem.” It was amazing.
I then walked along the Seine to the Musee D’Orsay, Paris’ impressionism hub. It’s my favorite artistic era, and I really enjoyed the museum. It closed at six, so I could only spend two hours there. I could’ve spent more.
I got on the Metro once again (I bought day passes for a paltry 3E20 on Sunday and Monday) to visit La Bastille. Once I got there, a monument gently reminded me that the Bastille no longer exists. The “storming of the Bastille” did a pretty thorough job making sure of that. The neighborhood, though, was my favorite in Paris. I bought a slice of strawberry cake from a patisserie (it sounded better than dinner at the time and I don’t regret the decision) and found a copy of A Farewell to Arms written in French. It was only 1E50 and I had finished that same book (and loved it) exactly seven days prior, so I figured it was a sign. A Hemingway is a ma souvenir Parisienne.
It was approaching nightfall, and I jumped on the metro to go to La Defense, a high-rise district outside Paris’ city limits. The futuristic architecture was the most impressive I’ve ever seen. It looked like a movie set. There’s a huge arch there that looks like L’Arc de Triomphe, except it’s bigger, plainer and contains an office building. I was really glad I made the trip out, and I took the RER (faster and more sprawling than the metro) back in to save myself some time. At this point, I was exhausted, so I did some Interneting back at the hostel, showered and went to sleep.
Monday / Lundi
Because I went to bed pretty early, I woke up at 7:30 a.m., almost like a real person. I ate breakfast, stashed my backpack in the luggage room and set off for the Eiffel Tower. I walked up the first two levels, but I didn’t go up to the top. I had seen the views from atop L’Arc and Sacre-Coeur, so I don’t feel remiss. The tower is really, really big. Really big. Not like tall, but big. Wide. The legs are horrifying. It was like the Death Star or something.
After the Eiffel Tower, I felt like anything that followed would be a letdown. I went to the Bois De Boulogne, Paris’ largest park, but after a few minutes of being completely exposed in the bitter wind I decided to scurry back into the neighborhood, where I had the protection of the buildings around me, at least. I happened upon an outdoor market, where I bought veggies and hummus, which I had been wanting for a while. I browsed the area a little bit and then went to the Latin Quarter.
The Latin Quarter was sometimes loud and touristy, but it had personality nonetheless. The streets were so tight and the shops so small, it reminded me of Prague. I ate un Croque-Monsieur, which I wanted to do while I was in Paris.
And that’s pretty much it. I went back to the hostel, registered for my classes online, found the times for trains earlier than my reservation and hi-tailed it on the Metro and RER to Station Du Nord. Because I had to rush to make the train, I didn’t get to buy a French food product (I was thinking some sort of cookies and/or wine, which is very cheap) to bring home. Oh well. Sometimes, things just don’t go your way. But this is petty compared to almost having to sleep in the metro on Friday night. I’ll just buy wine in Italy.
I did just buy a (made in) Belgium chocolate bar when I switched trains. Actually, I bought two so I could eat one.
On Friday, we leave for our second required travel break: Croatia! We were going to go to Prague, but they joined the Schengen immigration zone, so we had to travel outside of it (the London trips serve the same purpose). I’m very excited to go. Dubrovnik is a resort town, and hopefully it’ll be warm. The excursion includes a day to Bosnia, which I'm really excited about! On the second half of the trip, we’re going to Barcelona, where we’ll be able to relax on the beach and spend a lot of time not spending money. It may be two weeks or so until I write again, but it could be less! Au revoir, for now!
(I really did write this last night on the train. I just didn't get around to posting it till now.)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Munchen, Schloss Neuschwanstein, Dachau and Berlin
This weekend rocked. We saw so many cool things, but still kept things really chill. It was just my friend Meg and I, which was a boon (waiting for a gaggle of 5 other people can be extremely frustrating). Looking back, I can't believe we fit in everything we did!
We left on Thursday afternoon and got into Munich around 9 or so. In the middle of our ride we caught a good glimpse of the Frankfurt skyline, which was very modern and architecturally striking. You don't skylines like that in many European cities, and some cities (like Paris) have building height restrictions to preserve the formability of the Old-world buildings that currently dominate their skylines.
When we got into Munich, we went to our hostel, which was all of 5 minutes from the train station. We dropped off our stuff and went out to walk around and soak up the Bavarian mood.
We felt like we were in Epcot. We couldn't believe people walked the Marienplatz (Marien Street, or something) and went in these unbelievable gothic buildings every day. It all seemed so old but at the same time so modern, so anachronistic but so cutting-edge. Worldwide-known brands were juxtaposed with centuries-old cathedrals, meeting halls and fountains. This oldness felt different from the oldness of Prague, which was more weathered and generally more out-of-date in the present. Munich's old buildings still have a niche. They fit right in.
We went to a beer hall, and since I don't like beer, I got Munich's regional pseudo-beer offering: Radler, a half-lemonade, half-beer blend. It was delicious. There are beer halls throughout Munich, and the one we went to Thursday was pretty quiet (maybe because it was a Thursday). The halls are not stratified by demographics--there is no 20s beer hall, no singles beer hall, no older professionals beer hall, no gay beer hall. Everyone goes to the same place. It's so cool. The halls were very well-lit and filled with long tables and servers in traditional Bavarian dress. It was such a friendly atmosphere, and we drank it up.
We got up early Friday morning (7) to catch a train to Schloss Neuschwanstein, or King Ludwig's Castle. Google Image Search that shiz. Incredible.
The most surprising thing about the castle is that it was built in the 1860s. At that point, people didn't do the castle thing anymore, or at least they didn't do the new, huge-beyond-huge, castle in the German Alps thing anymore. King Ludwig II, who commissioned the castle, was forced to relinquish his rule it was found he was mentally ill. He must've been mentally ill, because some things about the castle were really weird. It was like that house in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, except Narnia was in the frigging castle, not in Narnia. There were swans all over the place (Swan Lake was written at the lake at the foot of the castle) and Wagner, the prolific German composer, was enshrined in multiple locations. Meg said it was every little girl's ideal doll house.
The castle was difficult to get to (more than 5 hours of traveling, round-trip), but so worth it. In Fussen, the small town we went through to get to Neuschwanstein, there was a great little bakery which we patronized (twice, actually). There, I got a traditional Bavarian pretzel and a rasberry crumble danish thing for 1.50 Euro! Hooray for a reprieve from city prices!
That night, we met up with another Emerson student (he was traveling on his own, which is not a bad idea if you want to see the things you want to see). We went out to dinner at a Tahitian chain restaurant (it was reasonably priced and German sausage didn't sound too desirable at the time), where I had fish tacos. Oh, yah. After, we went to the Hofbrauhaus, the largest beer hall in Munich and the most widely-known in the world, so Meg tells me, though I'd never heard of it.
There must've been thousands of people in that place. Oh my gosh. The seating never ended! It was like the Kowloon except with a much more efficient (and almost cramped) use of space. We each had a liter (I stuck with the Radler) and split a pretzel and another Bravarian staple, apple strudel. We stayed for a while, listening to the music (which alternated between jazz and Bavarian folk) and observing the scene. After walking around the city once more, we went back to the hostel and went to sleep.
In the morning we got up at 7:30 to go to the Dachau concentration camp outside of Munich. Most of the original structures of the camp have long since been demolished, and only fraction have been reconstructed. The resulting open expanses were very impactful and brought up questions. How did something this vast and this terrible go on for so long? I didn't feel quite right being there, not because I'm not Jewish, but because I had arrived of my own accord and left when I wished, a few hours later. None of the camp victims had that choice.
We left and Meg and I parted ways with Strauss as we headed for Berlin! We ate a lunch of fruit and Nutella on wheat puff crackers. Everything tastes better when you're on trains.
We got to Berlin at like 7. Berlin's freaking huge. I almost missed going to Berlin, so I was really glad we could fit it into this trip! Berlin may be the coolest city I've been to (though Dublin's still my favorite, and Paris, Dubrovnik, Barcelona, Milan, Rome or Florence will probably be the prettiest), mostly because of the omnipresence of it's history--Prussian, Nazi, Soviet and post-Soviet.
It was like a movie set. Some buildings were still shelled-out from WWII, and giant concrete slabs end serve as new, improvised walls. The East-West divide is still very evident, especially with the number of cranes and construction sites in the East.
We went up to the top of the Reichtag, Germany's national parliamentary building. It looked like the popper thing from that board game Trouble. The view from the top was impressive and gave us a sense of the vastness of the city. To finish off the day, we walked through the Brandenburg Gate and some of Germany's other most picturesque districts.
Sunday morning, we got up and went to the Berlin Wall Memorial Museum, which was fairly small but well-done. Now, the wall looks incredibly vulnerable. It looks like had they really wanted to, Berliners may have been able to knocked down the wall long before they actually did. The security restrictions, though, made this impossible. Berlin is still transitioning from the two, fragmented infrastructures of East and West Berlin to a single, harmonized infrastructure. They're opening a new airport next year, I think.
After the wall, we went to the DDR (East Germany) museum. Statist socialism is so interesting. It was really fun to look at, and even though the museum was crowded as balls, it was well worth our time.
We went back to Berlin's central train station, brought some foodstuffs for the train, and headed home. It was an incredible weekend, and I'm very thankful for all I got to see and how smoothly it all went!
Tomorrow late-morning we leave for Paris! We have no classes Easter Monday, so I won't be back until that night. I am so excited about this trip! I just hope I can get good sleep tonight.
We left on Thursday afternoon and got into Munich around 9 or so. In the middle of our ride we caught a good glimpse of the Frankfurt skyline, which was very modern and architecturally striking. You don't skylines like that in many European cities, and some cities (like Paris) have building height restrictions to preserve the formability of the Old-world buildings that currently dominate their skylines.
When we got into Munich, we went to our hostel, which was all of 5 minutes from the train station. We dropped off our stuff and went out to walk around and soak up the Bavarian mood.
We felt like we were in Epcot. We couldn't believe people walked the Marienplatz (Marien Street, or something) and went in these unbelievable gothic buildings every day. It all seemed so old but at the same time so modern, so anachronistic but so cutting-edge. Worldwide-known brands were juxtaposed with centuries-old cathedrals, meeting halls and fountains. This oldness felt different from the oldness of Prague, which was more weathered and generally more out-of-date in the present. Munich's old buildings still have a niche. They fit right in.
We went to a beer hall, and since I don't like beer, I got Munich's regional pseudo-beer offering: Radler, a half-lemonade, half-beer blend. It was delicious. There are beer halls throughout Munich, and the one we went to Thursday was pretty quiet (maybe because it was a Thursday). The halls are not stratified by demographics--there is no 20s beer hall, no singles beer hall, no older professionals beer hall, no gay beer hall. Everyone goes to the same place. It's so cool. The halls were very well-lit and filled with long tables and servers in traditional Bavarian dress. It was such a friendly atmosphere, and we drank it up.
We got up early Friday morning (7) to catch a train to Schloss Neuschwanstein, or King Ludwig's Castle. Google Image Search that shiz. Incredible.
The most surprising thing about the castle is that it was built in the 1860s. At that point, people didn't do the castle thing anymore, or at least they didn't do the new, huge-beyond-huge, castle in the German Alps thing anymore. King Ludwig II, who commissioned the castle, was forced to relinquish his rule it was found he was mentally ill. He must've been mentally ill, because some things about the castle were really weird. It was like that house in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, except Narnia was in the frigging castle, not in Narnia. There were swans all over the place (Swan Lake was written at the lake at the foot of the castle) and Wagner, the prolific German composer, was enshrined in multiple locations. Meg said it was every little girl's ideal doll house.
The castle was difficult to get to (more than 5 hours of traveling, round-trip), but so worth it. In Fussen, the small town we went through to get to Neuschwanstein, there was a great little bakery which we patronized (twice, actually). There, I got a traditional Bavarian pretzel and a rasberry crumble danish thing for 1.50 Euro! Hooray for a reprieve from city prices!
That night, we met up with another Emerson student (he was traveling on his own, which is not a bad idea if you want to see the things you want to see). We went out to dinner at a Tahitian chain restaurant (it was reasonably priced and German sausage didn't sound too desirable at the time), where I had fish tacos. Oh, yah. After, we went to the Hofbrauhaus, the largest beer hall in Munich and the most widely-known in the world, so Meg tells me, though I'd never heard of it.
There must've been thousands of people in that place. Oh my gosh. The seating never ended! It was like the Kowloon except with a much more efficient (and almost cramped) use of space. We each had a liter (I stuck with the Radler) and split a pretzel and another Bravarian staple, apple strudel. We stayed for a while, listening to the music (which alternated between jazz and Bavarian folk) and observing the scene. After walking around the city once more, we went back to the hostel and went to sleep.
In the morning we got up at 7:30 to go to the Dachau concentration camp outside of Munich. Most of the original structures of the camp have long since been demolished, and only fraction have been reconstructed. The resulting open expanses were very impactful and brought up questions. How did something this vast and this terrible go on for so long? I didn't feel quite right being there, not because I'm not Jewish, but because I had arrived of my own accord and left when I wished, a few hours later. None of the camp victims had that choice.
We left and Meg and I parted ways with Strauss as we headed for Berlin! We ate a lunch of fruit and Nutella on wheat puff crackers. Everything tastes better when you're on trains.
We got to Berlin at like 7. Berlin's freaking huge. I almost missed going to Berlin, so I was really glad we could fit it into this trip! Berlin may be the coolest city I've been to (though Dublin's still my favorite, and Paris, Dubrovnik, Barcelona, Milan, Rome or Florence will probably be the prettiest), mostly because of the omnipresence of it's history--Prussian, Nazi, Soviet and post-Soviet.
It was like a movie set. Some buildings were still shelled-out from WWII, and giant concrete slabs end serve as new, improvised walls. The East-West divide is still very evident, especially with the number of cranes and construction sites in the East.
We went up to the top of the Reichtag, Germany's national parliamentary building. It looked like the popper thing from that board game Trouble. The view from the top was impressive and gave us a sense of the vastness of the city. To finish off the day, we walked through the Brandenburg Gate and some of Germany's other most picturesque districts.
Sunday morning, we got up and went to the Berlin Wall Memorial Museum, which was fairly small but well-done. Now, the wall looks incredibly vulnerable. It looks like had they really wanted to, Berliners may have been able to knocked down the wall long before they actually did. The security restrictions, though, made this impossible. Berlin is still transitioning from the two, fragmented infrastructures of East and West Berlin to a single, harmonized infrastructure. They're opening a new airport next year, I think.
After the wall, we went to the DDR (East Germany) museum. Statist socialism is so interesting. It was really fun to look at, and even though the museum was crowded as balls, it was well worth our time.
We went back to Berlin's central train station, brought some foodstuffs for the train, and headed home. It was an incredible weekend, and I'm very thankful for all I got to see and how smoothly it all went!
Tomorrow late-morning we leave for Paris! We have no classes Easter Monday, so I won't be back until that night. I am so excited about this trip! I just hope I can get good sleep tonight.
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