In Flanders Fields

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place;

and in the sky The larks,

still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

-

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

-
Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

~Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

I just got back today from a class trip to Ieper, Belgium; a town that was literally reduced to dust and rubble during the first world war. All of our classes are about British and London history, so the reason we went all the way to Ieper was because a huge number of British soldiers were killed there. Maybe it was the 7 hour journey, or the blistering cold, but I was strangely emotional during all our memorial, museum, and cemetery visits. This wasn't my war, my generation, or even my country! But the first memorial we saw - the Menin Gate - was right in front of our hostel and every night since the end of the WWI there is a memorial service at 8pm, wherethre is a bugle call (sometimes accompanied by a speech) and a moment of silence. Every single night, for almost 100 years. On the memorial are 55,000 names of soldiers who died between 1914 and 1918. But these were just the soldiers with no known grave. The names were so tiny, and covered every surface, it was impossible to take it in all at once. And then of course a lone bagpiper played Amazing Grace, which just gets me every time. So... I was a blubbering mess, but I was really moved by the fact that this small town in the middle of nowhere Belgium has hundreds (last night there were thousands) of people stand in silence in memoriam of British soldiers, not even their own countrymen! It was really was amazing, and I've never seen or heard anything like it.

As well as looking at the memorial, we went to the In Flanders Field Museum, which was an interactive-type exhibition where we each got to "be" someone involved in WWI, and kind of look at the stories through their eyes. I was Remi van Kemmel, an 18-year-old Belgian soldier who, oddly, survived and lived until 1978. He called himself "a lucky devil". Now that we're in the 21st century 1914 sounds so far away, like it's not even a part of our world anymore. But Remi lived until less than 10 years before I was born.

I've spent two days learning and breathing World War I. I've seen museums, houses, cemeteries, old trenches, and memorials. The last thing I want to do is think about the war, but now it's the only thing I can think about. Especially because we stopped by a German cemetery where we saw a photo of Hitler in the same spot we were, promoting his ideals right before the start of World War II. The last cemetery we went to though before leaving this afternoon was the Tyne Cot Cemetery, the largest of its kind in the world. 11,908 graves are registered 70% of which are unknown. Then, another 35,000 names are inscribed on the walls surrounding the cemetery - that's in addition to the 50,000 I saw earlier in the trip. The numbers are so huge I still find it difficult to digest, but looking at the sheer number of graves stretching before us made the horrors click. It's been a long time since we've had a war like that so now I'm just waiting with bated breath for all of us to get blown to bits.
HOWEVER - it was also the most beautiful cemetery I've ever been to. If I were ever to fight for anything I would want to be remembered the way these soldiers are. Poppies are everywhere, and even the graves that house an unidentified soldier, they are remembered as a soldier of the Great War, and they are known unto God. Letters and crosses are stuck in odd graves, notes from school classes thanking the soldiers, and long letters addressed to the wall of unknowns. Lovely ways to acknowledge a person no one will ever know. Basically, this afternoon was somewhat depressing, but fascinating and beautiful all at the same time. I slept the whole bus/ferry/bus trip home - from both physical and emotional exhaustion.

Another however - Belgium rocks. As a depart from my depressing rant on WWI, beer and waffles and chocolate and fries? As amazing as they say. Honestly. I'm not really a beer drinker but there's this pub our guide took us to his favorite pub (and treated the whole group of 50 to a round!). There was a catalogue of all the beers available - from cheery, to 12% alcohol, to barley, to those brewed by monks. While WWI still hangs over the whole of this town, beer is another huge part of the culture, and boy do they celebrate it! And, since I always talk about food, Belgium is no exception, especially because I had this amazing waffle cooked in front of me, handed to me in a napkin, and didn't even cost 2 euros! It was the best waffle I've ever had in my life. And, I learned French Fries are actually from Belgium, so of course I had to have those too! Then of course I spent about $15 on chocolate. Also pretty spectacular :-) And yes, I did buy an extra bar that I wont touch and send home to my family. Maybe.

I also did do my bit of learning some part of language. I thought they spoke French everywhere in Belgium but I learned that there is a French area and a Flemish area and Ieper is the latter. Flemish/Dutch sounds a lot like German, so I was good and learned, "Do you speak English?" in Dutch. My accent is atrocious but I was proud of myself for trying while other tourists walked up the locals and spoke in English or made huge hand motions like the Belgian people were idiots. Our group was pretty awesome and our teachers taught us (roughly) to say hello, goodbye, thank you, cheers (!), etc... I hope I will remember all of this later on because my vocabulary of European languages is growing and I love it!

While we were only in Belgium for around 24 hours it was a wonderful trip and I don't think I would have seen the country otherwise. I also would have never seen a town like Ieper. Tourists (myself included) tend to migrate towards the cities, the attractions, the monuments. But being forced out of my comfort zone, and put in a place I knew nothing about was such a wonderful experience. This was the first time I've travelled with other people on this trip, and while I now know I truly love being by myself, going to Ieper with a group, and guides, and a curiosity made it a trip I will most likely never forget.

So... Twee bier, alstublieft. And Dag.
(two beers please) (goodbye) hehe.
:-D

Kings Cross

Pure and utter joy. Has made my trip to London complete. Need I say more?

Fish and Chips. On the side of the road. In the middle of nowhere.

I think to be a "city person" you need to want one of two things: either to blend into the crowd, or to be part of something bigger. I'm definitely the latter, and while I've been to my fair share of cities - New York, Rome, Paris, Chicago - I have never experienced anything like London. And I've been here three times before! It's much, much different to live here. I hate to say this to New York, because I do love it there, but London is more diverse, more visually confusing, and more unique. The States will always be my home, but the best thing about London is its unparalleled diversity. I know I've said that there is no such thing as a true Londoner, but honestly, you hear so many languages, smell so many foods, see so many skin colors it should be overwhelming, but it's oddly comforting. On my walk to work through Piccadilly Circus on Friday I heard three different languages that weren't English in the two blocks it took me to get there. Every group of people I passed were tourists, immigrants, business men from God knows where, students... But today on the tube I saw a man wilding gesturing, flailing his arms around. I figured he was another obligatory City Crazy so I moved away, but when I looked closer at his reflection in the window I realized it was sign language. Yet another form of communication to add to the list I've "heard" in the past week. Maybe Geneva belongs to the world, but I think London is the world.

Example: I went to this crazy, colorful, ridiculous parade at the mayor's Thames Festival a little over a week ago. There was a lantern procession with dancing of every kind: African, Chinese, Bolivian, and so many different kinds of music they became this one big and wild blend of pure sound. The photo above left is a group of little kids from some organization or another holding paper flowers that they had lit up with Christmas lights. They ran by fast, dancing and waving their arms, creating what was like a fireworks display on the ground. The photo to the right is... I have no idea. There were these weird HUGE puppets (or something like a puppet, I'm sure it has a name but I would just embarrass myself if I pretended to know what it is). They must have been made out of something really light because people would wear them on their backs and they had these poles in their arms attached to the arms of the puppet, which they would wave around and either scare the little kids or thrill them. I'm not sure which emotion I felt to be perfectly honest. But it was a sight to see and lasted for hours. If you're ever in London in September I highly recommend going to this festival. I spent two days down at the Thames that weekend and couldn't have possibly seen a third of what was there.

I've been so engrossed in London that after three weeks here I have yet to travel anywhere else around England. Besides learning about the country in my various classes, I don't think I've seen anything truly British. Some of the customs here reinforce the stereotypes - but only the good ones. For example, every day at work someone in the office goes around and asks if anyone would like a cup of tea. With just a spot of milk. During my lunch break, my boss asks if I'd like to "pop out for a bite", and the word "cheers" is thrown around with wild abandon. When I asked a coworker what it actually meant, she couldn't give me an answer. "You know... just, cheers!" I know there are a million words in the States that have "meanings" like that, but since I didn't actually know what cheers meant I thought it was very funny. Eventually I figured out its very loose definition is "thanks", which I like. What other country would have a hugely popular word be one of politeness?

Another truly English adventure I've had has involved fish and chips. London is very very expensive (don't even ask about my cell phone bill), so my friends and I had yet to try English fish and chips because all the pubs serve them for at least 8 pounds. That's about 16 US dollars. So one night we all pulled a Harold and Kumar and went out for a real meal of fish and chips, newspaper and all. Unfortunately it's no longer legal to serve it in newspaper as it's a health violation, but after about an hour we ended up riding the tube, getting off at Notting Hill Gate. My friend Rachel had seen, once upon a time, a fish and chips stand somewhere in the Notting Hill vicinity... I think. So we walked around for a while, and finally saw a beautiful, greasy, hole-in-the-wall fish and chips stand! The floors were a mess and it was completely empty except for the sketchy men who sit by themselves, but you could smell the chips down the street. And as an added bonus, they were 4 pounds for a huge amount of food :-) So the five of us all ordered our own serving, and even though there was no newspaper, we did get yellow half broken Styrofoam boxes which I guess in this day and age is kind of the same thing. With our food in hand we really had nowhere to go except back home but we really wanted that poor college student experience. So we headed next door to the grocery store, bought a six pack of beer for an absurdly low price, and parked ourselves on a concrete wall by the curb in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere to eat our hard-earned meal.

Besides classes, work, and fish and chip hunting (we did this one more time that week) I've also been doing some touristy things like St. Paul's Cathedral, the Gherkin and the Tower of London... I could list all the things I've done to give you a general update on my life here, but that would be boring and it's not the touristy things that have been defining my life at all. I finally feel like I live here. AND Davidson has officially given me permission to stay for the year! So I have so much more time to enjoy everything this amazing city (and country) has to offer....
... after, you know, I've found my way there ;-)

A couple fun experiences

I got my internship!!!

I interviewed yesterday at the Royal Academy of Arts and the head of marketing offered me an internship in the press department. It seems like I'll have a lot of responsibilities and it wont just be busy work. I'll be creating headlines, writing press statements, interviewing people, and yes, probably stuffing envelopes. But I'm really excited and today I went in after class to attend a press day at the academy just to see how it worked. It didn't seem that confusing and everyone seems really nice. I sat with two women most the time and we talked a lot and I think I'm really going to like it there. I'm already happy that I'm meeting actual Londoners and putting myself deeper into British society.

I also had my first class today which was also a success! The class was 300 Years of British Women's History and even though it was a two and a half hour class (it only meets once a week) I enjoyed every minute. The classes here don't seem too hard and it will be a relief to sit back and enjoy my classes rather than worry about all the work like at Davidson. I'm actually excited to start writing my history research paper. We have so many resources at our fingertips and I can tell I'll enjoy learning here a lot more than I have anywhere else. For my history class we really only have one writing assignment, which counts for a lot. But we can pick any aspect of British women in the past 300 years and study it. We have class trips to the Women's Library, the National Portrait Gallery, and to Ieper, Belgium where we'll study WWI. I have a lot of ideas about things to write about but I'm having a hard time choosing. I think what I'll do is head down to the Victoria and Albert Museum and look at all the women's clothing they have there because I'm considering writing about the evolution of women's fashion. Totally girly, I know, but I think it will be really interesting. And speaking of girly, there are two guys in the class which surprised me, but they seem to be taking it really seriously which is refreshing.

The other fun thing that's happened is yesterday I got a bunch of girls to walk with me to Big Ben and the Parliament building, which is about 45 minutes away. We also ended up accidentally seeing Westminster Abbey, St. James Park, and Buckingham Palace, which we saw by night and I highly recommend it! I've been walking around so much and seeing things because I haven't really had money for transportation and museums and such, so this is pretty comfortable for me now and I'm happy I got some other people to enjoy it too. By the time we got back we were exhausted but I felt like I got a lot done that day and now I'm just looking forward to tomorrow!

Arrival in London (orientation and otherwise)

'ello govna!

I've finally gotten to London! And I am officially and completely in love with this city. I already feel at home here. Our orientation period consisted of tons of paperwork and lectures, a bus tour, an intro to the London underground, a ferry ride to Greenwich, a theater (or theatre) performance at the Globe, and a market crawl at 8am this morning. Granted, I have seen a lot of London in the past couple days, but after the market crawl today it was sooo nice to get my room together - unpacking, buying groceries, etc. Despite being busy and very tired I wake up every morning in awe that I'm actually living in London!

I can already tell that I'm going to have an amazing time here. I've met some really wonderful people from all over the country. Funnily enough though, my roommate Anjali is from the town where I was born, and three students here I've never met before all known someone I went to high school with! There is so much to see in this world - I've been learning that more and more every day - but sometimes the it really does seem so small.

Everything we've done over the past five days has been a highlight, but my favorites have been seeing Shakespeare's Love's Labor's Lost at the Globe and the market crawl this morning. I'm not a huge Shakespeare fan, especially when I don't know the story line because I honestly can't follow the plot, but I really enjoyed last night's performance! Yeah, I didn't have any idea what was going on, but the actors were beyond incredible and even without a plot the show was one of the funniest I have ever seen :-D Also, since we are all poor students we paid 5 quid (ha! I'm getting the lingo down...) for a standing spot right below the stage. While we were tired from walking around Greenwich earlier that day and it was late and cold and damp it was the experience that was worth it. The original Globe burned down, but the new building is in the same place and is an exact replica so it was really like it would have been in Shakespeare's time. I felt like a peasant! And one thing I have always loved about London is it's history and watching the show from this angle was like stepping backwards in time...

As for the market, I wasn't expecting to like it as much as I did because we had been running around since Wednesday morning and the market crawl was at eight o'clock this morning and all I wanted to do was sleep. But I begrudgingly got up and took the long and complicated bus ride to the Columbia Flower Market. As soon as I saw all the shops like little English tea shops and garden sheds I wanted to buy a little country cottage and grow herbs... Seriously though, I bought three pots of basil, lavender, and rosemary! I don't know, something about the atmosphere and English men shouting, "Three for a fiver!" got me in the mood! I'm sneaky though, the neighborhood I'm in is super expensive so I'm really saving money by growing my own basil! You know - because I use so much basil and rosemary in my college student life. Whatever, I feel English now. So we walked through the Columbia Market, then over to Brick Lane which is the Bangladesh community in London that has a great street market not unlike a huge garage sale on the weekends. Our last stop was Spitalfields, the biggest of the three even with the ongoing construction. The stands had lots of homemade jewelery, clothes, bread, and soaps. I had to restrain myself but I did make a great find! When I was little I had a pair of really pretty red coral earrings shaped like roses that I adored. If I remember correctly I bought them at a street market in Italy. When I eventually lost them I was devastated. Until today when I found them at this stall run by two old men! The markets are relatively cheap so I swept up the last pair as fast as I could. Honestly though, the thing I love about markets (and the thing that also frustrates me) is that everything is constantly bustling and changing and you never know what you're going to find.

I'm starting to feel more like a Londoner though. I have an Oyster pass, which is this weekly travel card that all the commuters carry that gives you unlimited travel in certain zones. Every time I go through the till to get to the subway - sorry, tube - I feel so cool and urban! I can now wander the streets of my new neighborhood, Chelsea, without getting lost, and slowly but surely I am training myself to look right then left before crossing the street in order to avoid getting hit by a big red bus.

As for my neighborhood, it is really "posh" according to the locals. A lot of famous people have lived and do currently live here. Hugh Grant actually lives a couple doors down from my residence hall! Johnny Depp is filming here (yeah I know, I've got my binoculars and lasso at the ready), and Prince Harry was at the bar down the road! I promise I'll invite you to the royal wedding... And for those girls my age, 7 Pembrook Lane from the Parent Trap (the mother's house) is on my way to the tube! I'm really lucky to be living in such a beautiful and safe neighborhood. Yet another reason to love the home I'm building here.

Tomorrow I interview for an internship my program set up for me at the Royal Academy of Arts. If I get it I'll be working two full days a week on top of my classes, but the RA is really prestigious and the internship sounds like a lot of fun and great way to really integrate myself into British society, so I really hope I get it. Then on Tuesday I start classes, all based on British society - British Women Writers, British Women's History, British Youth Culture, and British Architecture. I swear, when I'm done here I'll probably know more about this country than the locals...

Cheers!

Last but not least

Bonjour!
(Yes, again. I would say bon soir but I've learned not to say that before 3pm)

I swear I have no idea where the time went, but today is my last day before I leave for London! I'm back in France, having spent the last three weeks kind of travelling in a very floppy circle. This past Saturday I left Geneva to meet my good friend Alea in the south of France. We travelled by car along the French Riviera and saw the glass blowing town of Birot and climbed many (many) stairs to the top of an old medieval village who's view was breathtaking. Picture a huge expanse of Mediterranean, incredibly old fountains in the midst of gorgeous French gardens, stones so old they were shiny from all the years of walking, and masses of lavender. We spent our days exploring the smaller towns that all looked just like postcards. Markets with fresh food, spices, and handmade soaps made them beautiful and colorful and made our trips so cheery!

However, even when travelling with other people, the day still really revolved around food. I think two of my favorite experiences with Alea and her mother were two meals. The first was on our way back from Birot. We walked by some cafes but most weren't serving before 7:30 and all the others basically served the same thing for the same high prices. I think the French have caught on to America's fascination with cute cafes (and the strange idea of sitting down and actually... relaxing) and have jacked up their prices. So this meant the three of us had been out all day and couldn't find a place to eat and we were getting pretty cranky. But as we trudged listlessly to the car we noticed an outdoor Italian market in the middle of this little village. A long row of stands held everything from huge wheels of cheese to fresh bread and grapes. We spent the first fifteen minutes as our "appetizer" (a.k.a. hoarding the free samples), and then walked back to the car to eat our purchases on the road (funnily, a very American thing to do during our very European meal). My dinner consisted of fresh milk, hot bread with cheese, and grapes from the stalls. Basically the most perfect meal ever, especially when I topped it off with the biggest cream puff ever. We were pretty dairied out the next day so we searched the streets of our next stop, Aix-en-Provence, for some salads. As usual, it took forever but it was worth it when we sat down at this really great, and obviously popular, salad place. Our food was delicious and healthy and fresh and we could not have left more satisfied... except that we were blessed with two MORE delicious things: massive cream puffs filled with a weird (but amazing) cream-ice cream mix, topped with whipped cream and chocolate fudge, and a cafe solely staffed by young, beautiful, French waiters with abnormally deep voices. It was not unlike the magical door to Narnia, as I have never seen more yummy things in one room in my life, and only magic could have produced this feast. So that took up Sunday...

We did some more exploring and found our way to a great YMCA hostel in Avignon later on. Since I had to leave early the next morning for Paris we woke up even earlier to have a little French breakfast before my train left. Our €5 got us grainy powdered coffee, a relatively decent croissant and Tang, which can only be described as fluorescent. I don't think that glass had ever seen an orange in its life. I guess our luck had to run out at some point but no matter, the French can make even Tang classy.

So here I am, back in Paris, back in a smokey cafe. I cant believe it's been 21 days and I've seen 5 countries (6 if you count Vatican City), learned how to say "Do you speak English?" in French, German, Croatian, and Italian, met people from all around the world, and have gotten disastrously lost in every city I've been in. I don't think I've ever been so proud of myself and I can honestly say I've changed and learned more about myself in 21 days than I have all year. So here's what I've learned:

1. You're supposed to get lost. Getting lost is the best part and once you stop freaking out you can end up in the most interesting places.

2. People in train stations that ask for an "extra 50 cent to buy a ticket" aren't really buying a ticket. And don't hand them your Coke while you rummage through your purse for change.

3. Not having coffee to go is a blessing. Yes, it's convenient to grab a Starbucks for the car, but being forced to sit down for five minutes can be the best part of your day.

4. No matter how busy you are, stop and eat - real food. Food (especially gelato) can work wonders.

5. Eating alone is like a date with yourself! And don't talk on the cell phone to look busy because that's silly.

6. Sleeping on the dock of a boat in the rain really makes you appreciate a real bed. Hostels can also have that effect.

7. Charge your camera every night, even if you think you're fine.

8. Not speaking a person's language can make you good friends...

There you go! I love Europe, but I love my Americans more, so come visit in London. As for me, I'm looking forward to settling down in one place and maybe living out of some drawers and a closet for a while :-)Au revoir, auf wiedersehen, dovidenja, fino al nostro prossimo incontro, until we meet again...

An attempt at a week's worth of adventures

Bonjour! Bongiorno! Gutentag!

I have never been to a city that speaks so many languages! Every single sign is in French, English, German, and Italian. I love it!

I arrived in Geneva late Wednesday night. As usual, I got lost, caught in the rain, and was ridiculously tired after a 12 hour train trip here. However, I guess I'm used to it now because honestly, I just laughed in the rain instead of breaking down crying or freaking out. It's just funny by now, I think I take after my mom (sorry Ma) and just can't follow directions. I have seriously gotten lost everywhere. I arrived in Geneva after leaving Rome early that morning after having to catch a train to Milan, and then Milan to Geneva. It was a long twelve hours and when I got here I had no place to stay. But finally, after almost 3 weeks on the road I kind of like having no idea what I'm doing. I was totally stuck Wednesday night, but I traipsed through the raging thunderstorm in my flip flops and huge backpack with a smile on my face :-D It was great! I found a hotel (no hostels in expensive Geneva) right near the train station and fell into a deep sleep (forget my 12 hours on the train, travel sleep sooo doesn't count).

But what happened to my week in Italy? You can guess from my complete lack of communication that I have been too busy to sit down and write. I think I left you at my dramatic trip into Amalfi. When I woke up the next morning in my grungy hostel, I went straight to the beach. Really gorgeous water, hot hot HOT sand, rocky cliffs, and beautiful Italians and bathing suits... But the town was too small for me and it would take hours to get anywhere more exciting. So I enjoyed my time at the beach but ended up leaving early for Rome to have something better to do. I literally have NO exciting stories of Amalfi, but I'm glad I saw it, and would definitely go again with friends.

Rome on the other hand, was of course exciting - I think I both hated and loved it. I stayed in two different places. I at first got my own room in a hostel (gasp!) cutely named Fawlty Towers but was meeting no one so I switched to this great social/party hostel where I was put in one room with FIVE guys. Thank God they were all sweet because I completely freaked when I first got to my room. But I ended up meeting this nice guy from California who I travelled with during my time in Rome. The hostel offered a pub crawl through all the famous Roman sites so we did that together, as well as ate TONS of pasta with some other lone travelers we met in the hostel. I also found the most amazing gelateria in all the world. Seriously. I could die now and be completely happy. I went back three times in two days and got six different flavors: honey almond, sacher torte (remember that Austrian cake I mentioned earlier? Yeah, its also GELATO), green apple, coconut, cappuccino, and pink grapefruit. It was absolutely amazing, especially because I spent all my time in Italy searching for the perfect ice cream. I think I may have stopped at every single gelato place in Rome, and I feel soooo victorious having found the perfect place...

And of course I did the typical touristy things in Rome. I saw the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Sistine Chapel.... all amazing and just like I had imagined. When I first stepped out of the Metro stop by the Colosseum my breath was literally taken away. It was kind of like meeting a famous person. And I went through an entire memory card on my camera!

Now that I'm in Geneva I'm slightly bored, but in a good way, I promise. Geneva is the perfect place to recharge my batteries because I'm mostly sitting a lot but I don't feel guilty because it's not like I'm missing out on a lot! After this I head to Nice, to see my lovely friend Alea (hi Pancake!), and from there I go back to Paris so I can take the Chunnel to London and actually do some work ;-) Geneva is great though, I've seen the United Nations, the Red Cross museum, and of course Lake Geneva, which is beautiful when its not raining! Last night though was the Absolut Highlight. My childhood best friend Thana's best friend from high school, Mya, lives here in Geneva (confusing enough?). I've heard everything about Mya but we've never met, so I took the opportunity to meet her here and we clicked automatically. I took her out for dinner, and then we went out to meet some of her friends. Geneva really is the most international city I know. My super-helpful Lonely Planet guidebook says that Geneva belongs less to Switzerland and more to the world, and that really is the case. Mya's friends were from Luxembourg, Germany, Mexico, the States, and the ones who were actually from Switzerland had families originally from places like Finland or Afghanistan. It was a great group of people and I heard lots of stories. I'm meeting people from all over the world, making great connections, and I bet the next time I do a trip like this I won't even need to stay in hostels! At the end of our night Mya and I, along with some of her friends, walked around for a while and we were treated to a performance by her Swiss friends freestyle rapping in French. For those of you who have yet to hear French rap, you immediately need to get on that... hiiiilllaaarious!

I'm sorry for this book of an email, but even with this I can't paint a big or brilliant enough picture of everything I've been doing here. You can tell from the fact that I've been too busy and tired to write until now that too much has been happening for me to sit. Except I kind of like it that way...

Love to all!!!

Italy! (and the journey there)

Buongiorno!!!

So far, one word and one word only can describe my 2 days in Italy: FINALLY. I left Croatia at 11pm on the 22nd, and arrived in Amalfi, Italy at 11pm on the 23rd. It literally took me 24 hours to get here.

I took a ferry from Dubrovnik to Bari, Italy. The trip was overnight and the total sailing time would be just under 9 hours. I figured I could sleep on the boat. Wrong. I went outside because the day had been 100 degrees and I was dying from the heat. As the boat took off into the Adriatic it got colder and colder. I put on two pairs of pants. Nothing. Three sweaters. Nope. Socks? Again, not even a teeny bit better... Get the picture? And my lovely new friend Maurry from Scotland was sleeping peacefully on the wooden deck (having sweetly given me the elevated seat) in his toasty sleeping bag. I was insanely jealous. I sat starting at him like a psycho debating whether or not to wake him and ask to crawl in for about 15 minutes before regaining my senses. So I went inside figuring I would sleep on the floor, but everyone else seemed to have gotten the same idea. People were sleeping on the stairs, in the halls, on the bar. It was actually kind of funny, but at the time I just wanted to sleep. So I ended up back on the actual deck of the boat to escape the wind, but of course it started to rain (as it always seems to do just for me!). But at six in the morning when I gave up trying to sleep the sun came up and out and I was rewarded with a perfect and peaceful view of the sun rising over the Adriatic Sea.

We finally docked in Bari where it was incredibly hot and it ended up being one extreme or the other that day. My entire left side of my body was covered in red spots, broken blood vessels, and scrapes from lying on the wood for so long. My plan was originally to take the train from Bari to Solerno, where I would find my hostel (supposedly) but the boat docked 4 minutes too late and I missed my train. I overheard an America talking who was going to Naples (in the same vicinity of Solerno) and was taking a bus. However, to catch the bus we had to take a train. In the opposite direction. And Solerno? I watched the city pass me by, like a drooling dog, my face plastered to the window. By the time I actually reached Solerno, I had taken 2 buses and 2 trains. Both Bari and Naples were the most disgusting places I have ever seen. I will spare you the ugly details as I know it is my beautiful experiences you want to hear about, but lets put it this way: the smell of noodles will haunt my dreams forever.

Once in Solerno I was informed it was another hour long bus ride to Amalfi! And the bus had to travel up winding roads that were uncomfortably close to the craggy rocks and ocean below. Two hours, an upset stomach, and FIVE Italian boys (seriously, boys. This seems to be a reoccurring problem with me) later I was in Atrani, a cute little village next to Amalfi. Supposedly, I had to just follow the signs to get to the hostel, but that wasn't the case either. Phone calls, policemen, and lots of stairs finally got me to the hostel, where I passed out immediately after arriving.

This morning, I woke to find myself in a gorgeous little Italian town, with the hostel practically right on the water. The location was great, the hostel... not so much. Kind of wet and musty, but I spent my first couple hours here outside instead, lying on the beach trying to get my pasty skin to actually look like an Italian's. I spent 2 hours in a cafe, drinking Coke (which I never do, but for some reason Coke is really good in Europe) and zoning out. I wrote a little in my travel journal and generally just relaxed and tried to get over the horrors of the previous day. Now, I am actually in Amalfi, a 15 minute walk UP a massive mountain, but it was a very pretty walk: lots of clear water and grand buildings with peeling paint. Not much is here actually except for lots of beach and tourist shops. So I decided to catch up on email by paying a ridiculous amount of money to use this computer. I'll probably spend the rest of the night sitting in another cafe and eating pasta. The one great thing about Europe, besides the Coke, has been the cafes. I really haven't seen a lot of museums or monuments, but I've been having lots of great dates with myself, comfortably watching people, drinking really great coffee, and meeting interesting people. I've already met an American engineer named Frank who was my company to Naples, a Canadian English teacher named Sandra, a crazy Norwegian named Isaac who hasn't been home in months and works just so he can afford to stop working and travel the world . There's also Rachel and Pip, two girls met in two different hostels who were also travelling alone and a pleasure to be around. And of course, Maurry, my Scotland gentleman with the sleeping bag.

Arrivederci!

Dubrovnik, Croatia

Dobar dan! Good day!

So far, Croatia has been nothing short of incredible. The night I got here, Thana and her mom took me out to dinner at a gorgeous restaurant where we were practically sitting in the Adriatic. We ate the best fish I have ever tasted (until of course our next meal) coupled with really great wine and crepes with cherries and ice cream. Due to the wine or just the excitement of finally seeing Thana in her own home, we spent hours reminiscing and singing old songs. Since we have known each other for years, there were A LOT of songs to sing.

The next day was the highlight though. The three of us got up early to go out on their boat and I got the grand tour of Dubrovnik from the sea. Before stopping at a small island for yet another great meal, we stopped at what looked like a rocky edge of land. Thana took me into the water and once we got to the rocks she had us go under the water, swimming underneath the rocks where we came up into a massive cave. Hardly any light shone through, and it was completely mysterious and kind of scary. I felt kind of like a pirate... hehehe.

Essentially, our days have been spent napping in the sun, eating amazing fresh food, drinking wine and sitting around and talking. We talk on the boat while sunbathing, we talk at cafes for hours and hours. We talk on the family's beautiful porch that overlooks the terra cotta roofs of Dubrovnik and the huge expanse of the Adriatic sea. I cannot imagine ever leaving. This is the most beautiful, relaxing, seductive place I have ever been. At six this morning we watched the sun rise over the city from the terrace, then walked ten minutes to a bakery that had just opened so we could buy hot bread and pastries and milk fresh from the cow that we drank straight from the carton on the walk back home.

Yesterday, a friend of Thana's mother, Mercy, arrived. Anne and Mercy have known each other since kindergarten and continue to stay in touch. The same is true for Thana and I. Today, the four of us girls drove to the house of an old friend of the Pavelic family for lunch. Thana describes her surrogate grandfather, Leo, as the salt of the earth, and she could not be more spot on in her description. His stone house and the surrounding buildings are the result of his design and work. The stones were literally stacked by his old and experienced hands. The garden is filled with mint, from which the wife makes her own grenadine and tea, and grapes and limes grow on their trees. Thana and I swam in the small bay where the family lives and relaxed in the water before lunchtime. For lunch we ate fish that Leo had caught the day before and cooked himself in his outdoor oven that was topped with his homemade olive oil. Nothing goes unused in this family. For dessert we ate the grapes off their trees and these amazing pastries (I think) that are made with dough fried in brown sugar and filled with fresh plums . Afterwards, we sang songs in Croatian and English, which caught the attention of an Italian couple from Naples. They joined us, drinking wine and singing, adding another language to our repertoire. Everyone spoke some part of the others language and we switched between them for the rest of the afternoon. I cant speak a word of Croatian and only slightly understand Italian, but we could sing songs anyway and leave with new friends. Think Under the Tuscan Sun but better, more beautiful, more lively, and slightly drunker! Everything was natural and amazing. We could not have had a better day.

Tomorrow I leave on a ferry to Bari, Italy, from which I may go to Naples, maybe the Amalfi coast, maybe Sorrento. Wherever the wind takes me....

Dovidenja, until our next meeting,

Marian

Days 2 and 3

Gruss Gott!


My stop in Austria was only planned as a stopover before Croatia. I didn't plan anything and like Paris, got into the center of the city and just walked. Nothing much happened before I met up with my mom's pilot friend, Dieter. For 7 hours I got the history of Vienna in a very fast paced walking tour. He showed me the most amazing cathedrals - St. Peter's, St. Rupert's (?) and St. Paul or Mark or someone... I have no idea which was which. But I saw some hardcore Baroque, Gothic and OLD churches. The Baroque was pretty on the outside but the second I walked in was hit with this force of shiny gold. GOLD... and painted ceilings and alters and marble pillars and the skeletons of dead saints wearing fancy, old, decaying clothes reclining in a glass box. I was horrified and amazed at the same time, but had to stifle my giggles inside the quiet church.

The first church I stopped at was so impressive on the outside I didn't even bother going into it until later. The exterior was massive and so old the stone was turning black. It was exactly what you think of when imagining a Gothic cathedral (you know, when you do all that Gothic cathedral imagining...). The interior was just as baroque and gaudy as the other church. Every wooden pew was hand carved and every stone pillar had cherubs and saints and God knows what else so efficiently chiseled it was impossible for my mind to completely grasp what I was looking at. Totally amazing though.

Dieter and I climbed to the top of one tower and got a good look of all of Vienna. Plus, we saw the roof up close which is not at all what you'd expect from this very menacing building. The roof was tiled in patterns of colors that resembled some sort of rug pattern. A real juxtaposition and very bizarre. We hit a few more cathedrals and as amazing as they all were, my all time favorite was the oldest one, which I think was called Saint Rupert's. It was so old there were no fancy paintings or gilded pillars. The pews were plain and made of dark wood. White walls and candles and that's about it. To be perfectly honest, it's what I think a church should really look like, peaceful and respectful. We then went BACK to the first church (lots of walking), taking a guided tour through the catacombs. Dukes and cardinals and bishops are buried down there plus the organs of some Empress are have been preserved in alcohol and stuffed in a huge urn.

The most interesting however, were the rooms with piles and piles of bones. This is where victims of the plague were literally thrown. After the tombs ran out of room prisoners were forced to peel the meat of the dead so there would be more room to just pack the bones. Some rooms were just scattered with bones, others had neat and tight piles. It was so horrifying but none of us on the tour could look away. Especially when we were told how the smell was so bad they had to move the cometary to the outskirts of Vienna. Basically, under the beautiful stone pedestrian walkways I had been admiring were hundreds of thousands of skeletons (expect for those reclining above ground in special boxes for our viewing pleasure).

Dieter showed me a lot. We had famous Sacher cake and ridiculously strong coffee, plus Austrian apple strudel at the summer home of the Empress who would be Marie Antoinette's mother and who's organs are lovingly placed underground. I got the 411 on the old Hapsburg Empire and where to get the best weinerschizle. We also went to Vienna's oldest pub, where signatures of the incredibly famous like Beethoven and Mozart cover the walls.

I've been to Europe before but it was here where I really realized just how old everything is. It's amazing how much history there is here, and I love it! Turkish cannon balls are still embedded in building walls that now make up a modern shopping center. Beautiful old buildings are everywhere. Some are preserved in their history, others now have billboards and flashing advertisements. There was way too much to see in two days that I've been here, so I'll just have to come back.
Off to the airport now where I fly to Dubrovnik where I see my friend Thana's home for the first time! Auf wiedersehen...

Day 1 - August 16

Bonjour!

I am in Paris but back at CDG airport on my way to Vienna. I have really spent the last two days travelling, getting lost, feeling sore, and crying my eyes out. But, on the other hand, I met a cute little French boy on the plane over who taught me how to ask, "do you speak English?" in French. My accent is so bad I'm surprised they had any idea what language I was speaking.

While the French have not lived up to their notoriously rude reputation, a surprising number of them don't speak English at all. Not that they should, but before I left I was comforted over and over again by friends saying I would easily get by without any French. SO not the case. By the time I got to the storage facility where I left my ridiculously heavy luggage, I had a couple of hours to fill before my flight to Austria. So I wandered around Paris. I sat in an adorable outside cafe with my French coffee and croissant. I just sat and watched the people while sitting near various Frenchmen doing the same while also smoking like chimneys. I then wandered around some more with a very bad map at hand. That's when I was so surprised when I ran straight into the Eiffel Tower!

So of course I took a million pictures and was finally aware I was travelling Europe and totally free! I could do whatever I wanted. So instead of standing in line all day at the Louvre like most tourists and family vacations, I sat outside in the sun, taking photos and looking around me until I felt it was time to go. As I walked back I looked through some cute shops, admired a church and it's beautiful garden - both of which I've never heard of. That's when it started to pour, with no warning and with me completely lost in the middle of Paris. I was out there for two hours.

There was nowhere to sit and look at a map besides a cafe, where I sat and sulked in confusion while paying 7 euros for an uneaten crepe and cold coffee. When I finally swallowed my pride and tried calling the storage place, the stupid number wouldn't go through! Though they had given me the country code, I had no idea how to call Europe from another European phone. After literally 10 attempts I had to call the states and have a friend Google how to call Paris from a London cell. Oh, and this was after 2 cab attempts, where both drivers spoke no English and had to talk to my friend on my cell in French and then decided - no, refused - they couldn't' take me to the address that ended up being a 5 minute walk away after all. At the end of this delightful episode I was so sore in my legs plus got a bruise on my shin days after dropping the stupid suitcase I had to store on myself. Not the best start to my trip of a lifetime.

But, I did get a marriage proposal. A handsome young Italian named Lorenzo stopped to tell me I was beautiful and kissed my hand. He asked me out to dinner but I showed him my fake wedding ring as an excuse to politely walk away. Without blinking he said if I ever were to get divorced to call him as he would marry me right away.

So much for Paris. But Italian men are smooth....