An overdue update: Berlin and such

Hi everyone! I arrived home last week, so my motivation to keep up this blog about my past adventures has waned. I am still inclined to complete it, if only for my own benefit as a writer, so I hope that you will continue to read!

Let's jump back to my time in Berlin. I arrived on the 12th of June, but it was getting too late to do anything touristy, so I just went out and walked around the city center. I was really surprised by how beautiful the city was. It was also really clean, which shouldn't have been a surprise. This was Germany after all. The city had a really open, moving, growing feeling, and even though there was widespread construction, it still felt alive and bright.

The next day I went on a free walking tour offered by New Europe, a really great company. The tour guides are paid only in tips, so they are always on their best behavior. It was an awesome tour, I learned a lot, we even went to the unmarked parking lot above the bunker where Hitler and his wife committed suicide. Walking through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe was really an experience. It is brilliantly constructed to give this frightening feeling of disorientation. The ground dips beneath you and suddenly towering blocks of concrete surround you on all sides. Other people come in and out of your field of vision, seemingly fleeting and insubstantial, on their own invisible paths to nowhere. Just when you begin to think there is no way out, the ground begins to rise again and you can see the street beyond the concrete. The monument has sparked some controversy, because of its size and its elusive meaning, but I think it does a brilliant job. It explores the lack of control, fear, and disorientation without attempting to capture or portray something "realistic," an impossible feat as these events are beyond understanding.

On my last day in Berlin, I walked myself into exhaustion, but the most memorable part of the day was the Berlin Zoo. I really enjoyed wandering around and for the first time in a while I really just relaxed, forgot about deadlines and schedules, and looked at animals! I'm not sure about the quality of those enclosures, but as I said I pretty much just let myself enjoy the fun animals. I saw Gorillas getting fed, giraffes, elephants, lions, tigers, monkeys of all sorts, and had a generally lovely time.

Then I went to the East Side Gallery, the longest surviving section of the Berlin Wall. It has been completely decorated by artists from all over the world, so it is a really fascinating walk. Here are a few of my favorite panels.

I was pretty sad when it was time to leave Berlin. Even though I ran around frantically trying to see everything, there is still so much I didn't get a chance to see! Berlin was honestly one of my favorite places, it was beautiful and clean and thriving. The wall came down a little over 20 years ago, there are still bullet-holes in some of the buildings, and there is construction everywhere, but the city is healing and growing and the culture that is developing there is fantastic. I can't wait to go back!

Munich, but mostly other places around Munich

Lords and Ladies,

Welcome back to my blog. Very exciting I know. Today I am going to tell you the fantastic tale of my time in Munich, which involved me not spending very much time in Munich at all. It is a tale of extreme contrasts, of woe and of wonder, of terror and triumph, of horror and heroes. It begins with a day trip to Dachau.

This was the woe, terror, and horror part I was talking about. It was exceedingly uncomfortable and altogether depressing, but it was an experience I believe every person should have to face once. Once. Not twice, nor thrice. I am definitely not going back. There were times when I wanted to curl up on the ground and cover my eyes and my ears. Mostly I just wanted a hug. A word (or several) of advice: DO NOT ATTEMPT ALONE.

One good thing came from that day, and her name was Chelsea. Chelsea is from England, and I met her on the Dachau tour. We were chatting on the bus ride home, and the talk turned to food that we missed from each other's countries. Eventually a bargain was struck: she would send me packages of hobnobs, jelly babies, and after eights if I would send her packages of nerds and other hard to find sweets from the states. I think this is going to be a wonderful and fulfilling relationship, don't you?

ACTUAL THING

The next day was considerably brighter, emotionally and atmospherically. I went on a guided tour to Neuschwanstein Castle, which turned out to be only about 2/3 as beautiful as the scenery surrounding it. The castle has a purposefully fairy-tale feel to it which is added to by the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of the man who dreamt it up, Bavaria's last king, Ludwig II. The government has never released the files concerning what really happened the night that Ludwig, a strong swimmer, supposedly drowned in waist-high water.

After the castle itself we walked out to this bridge, the one that I am standing on in the picture, to get this glorious view of the castle and its surroundings, before walking back through the gorge to the bottom of the hill, where we took the train back to Munich. I made another friend on this tour, and we went together to get currywurst for dinner. Not my favorite, but I felt compelled.  I'm going to keep this short and sweet, because right now I don't feel like going into my three-day adventure in Berlin. Enjoy!

Charmed, I'm sure...that my life is.

On the 5^th of June, 2012, I took the most beautiful train ride of my life to the most breathtaking location I had ever seen. When I disembarked I was in Innsbruck, Vienna. While the town itself is not much to look at and requires about twenty minutes total of inspection, it is surrounded on all sides by absolutely gorgeous mountains. Welcome to the Alps.

Bright and early the next morning, I headed to the convention center, where every day free guided hikes leave at 9am. First of all, let us all just ponder this fact: Innsbruck sponsors free guided hikes every single day. As my dad wasted no time in reminding me, this would save at least one hiker from getting terribly lost, and having to be saved by search and rescue. He was wrong though. I never would have even TRIED to go hiking on my own. Even I can see what a disaster that would be. Come on people, I’ve seen 127 hours.  I am just saying that if other places did similar things, it might save a lot of lives and help a lot of people have amazing experiences that they would otherwise miss out on.

At our starting point. Mountains in front, mountains behind us

Look, its me! In the Alps!

The hike was amazing, and even now I can’t believe it was free. First they took us on an hour-long bus ride to this little mountain town where we started our trek. Then they hiked us 2 ½ hours up into the Alps, until we reached an adorable little restaurant in the mountains, serving Bavarian food at its finest. I had packed a lunch, scavenged from my hostel’s free breakfast, so I did not partake, however I did try the Schnapps that they were handing around for free. We were almost at the tree line, and the views all around us as we ate were absolutely gorgeous. I hate to say this Dylan, but it definitely rivaled Glendalough. On the hike I met a new friend, Robin, and on the bus ride home I found out that he was from Granville, where I go to college! How crazy is that? We talked about Whit’s and well that was mostly it because what else is there to say about Granville? Seriously though, how weird?!

That was it for my time in Innsbruck. I had done what I had gone there to do, and it was time to move on. The next day I took the train to Vienna.

Right away I was off to Schonbrunn Palace, which was about the only landmark within an easy walking distance from my hostel. I don’t want to sound jaded, but I have seen a lot of palaces in my recent past. This one reminded me a lot of Versailles, but on a smaller scale. So while it was beautiful and grand, yes, what really interested me was the information about the palace’s more recent past. It was in use up until right after WWI, unlike most other palaces I have visited, so seeing all of the more modern-style living spaces made this one stand out to me.

The palace at night

I hung around there for a while, because the highlight of the day was taking place at at Schloss Schonbrunn, the gardens behind the palace, at 9pm. I met Robin, my friend from the hike, near the Gloriette, a structure in the gardens, at 8pm and we set about looking for a good spot to see the show. We ended up behind the stage with hundreds of other people. We figured they must have set up speakers so that we would be able to hear, or why else would this many other people be here with us? Well at 9 when the Vienna Philharmonic began their yearly free concert in the park, we could not hear a thing. Disgruntled, we moved around for a while until finally making the trek around to the front of the stage, where we could listen to the beautiful music emanating from the stage, and watch the conductor cavorting.  Yeah. Vienna Philharmonic for free in the park, NBD.

The effect of full length solid colored stain-glass windows

The next day, I did a lot of wandering around in the city center of Vienna, which is full of glorious old buildings. It looks exactly like the city of Mozart should. I saw the library that I swear was the inspiration for Beauty and the Beast’s library. St. Stephen’s Cathedral is particularly gorgeous. I may have mentioned at some point that each new cathedral was beginning to feel like a new hole in my head, but this one was special and worth remembering. I think a picture will do best, so I won’t try to describe it.

I also went to the Kunsthistoriches Museum, or the Art History Museum, which for some reason I absolutely loved. I don’t know whether it was because I had gone through withdrawal after an entire week without entering an art museum, or because this place had some sort of magic, but when I was done going through all of the galleries, I honestly had the urge to start all over again. I didn’t. Still though, I give this museum an A++, because although it had no special “Mona Lisa” or “David,” it still held my attention, and for the first time in an art museum, left me wanting more. I had to leave though; I had an appointment at the Vienna Opera house. A mere hour standing in line in the back of the opera house 2 hours before show time got me a 4euro standing room ticket to see Tosca, an Italian opera which, okay I had never heard of before but I am sure it is famous because it is old and Italian.

It just so happened that I was standing next to an Austrian music student who came to the opera absolutely all of the time, so before the curtain went up I learned several interesting things. One, I learned that a long time ago the Emperor or Duke or something had ordered that the same opera never be played two nights in a row. To this day, the opera house has around 5 productions that they stagger, so that you can go to the opera several nights in a row without seeing the same show. Two, I learned that Austria still had mandatory military service. The boy I was standing next to was graduating the Austrian equivalent of high school next week and preparing to go into the army for 6 months. He confided that he wanted to go into the special corps that patrol the Italian border on skis, with guns on their backs. I think it was the skis more than the guns that he fancied.

The opera itself was performed very skillfully. The sets were surprisingly elaborate. Okay, you got me, turns out opera isn’t really my thing. Don’t get me wrong, seeing an opera for 4euro in Vienna is not something I regret. It just hasn’t exactly inspired a fascination with the genre, that’s all I’m saying.

TLDR: Over the course of three days I went hiking in the Alps, saw a free concert by the Vienna Philharmonic, and saw an opera in the Vienna Opera house. My life you guys. My life.

Well that was it for Vienna, and that was it for Austria. I don’t think any country has offered me so much in such a short time span. Only one question continues to plague me: what the heck am I going to do when I get home this summer?

Relaxing my way through Florence and Venice

For once I have no stories about the train ride. I made it from Rome to Florence and even to my hostel with no problems at all. My hostel was almost right on the beautiful river, which I spent a lot of time walking along. I went to the Ufizi Gallery first, which was a really nice art gallery because it seemed to understand the importance of quality over quantity. It didn’t take ages to wade through, but everything there was beautiful, including the Birth of Venus, and Primavera, as well as some Van Gogh, Picasso, all that good stuff. You may not be aware of this, but I am swiftly becoming an art elitist.

So next I wandered through the San Lorenzo market, which is this massive street market with stalls selling all sorts of leather goods and touristy things. I bought myself a nice new journal (I’m almost out of room in my first one). I meandered over (I say meandered because I took a...circuitous...route) to the Duomo next and had a good ogle. It is absolutely gorgeous! From the name, I kind of just expected a church with a dome...but it is actually magnificent, which was a nice surprise.

Day two: The highlight of today was the Church of Santa Croce, which is really gorgeous, and boasts quite a few celebrity graves. I saw Dante, Michelangelo, Galileo, and Machiavelli! Santa Croce also had some really pretty cloisters, which I had a nice walk through.  I also spent some time today in the Boboli gardens, which are absolutely beautiful, and very relaxing.

Day three: Laundry day! Seriously, when you live out of a backpack, if one thing starts to smell, everything starts to smell. It can be real trouble. After laundry I went to see Michelangelo’s David. He was pretty much all he is supposed to be. Gigantic and beautiful. I can’t imagine the talent for detail that Michelangelo needed to sculpt all of those muscles. Then, in keeping with the theme, I went to the Piazza Michelangelo (THE THEME IS MICHELANGELO), which has an absolutely wonderful view of the rest of Florence. I sat for a while just soaking it in. Sometimes I have to remind myself that my life is way beyond average. It is easy to just follow my plan and my map and forget that what I am doing is actually completely wonderful and I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.

View from the Piazza

Tonight I treated myself to a real dinner at a real restaurant next to the Duomo, which consisted of a GIANT bowl of the best tortellini I have ever had. I almost forgot that Gelato was not your average dinner fare, having subsisted on that for the last two nights.

Florence was very relaxing. Clearly I had no large adventures, because this is possibly the shortest post ever. However I also had no major mishaps, which was nice. Florence itself is beautiful, and much quieter than Rome, which I appreciated. I left Florence feeling refreshed and ready to explore Venice.

AHH VENICE. First of all, when you exit the train station in Venice, the first thing that confronts you is the Grand Canal, so that is a really exciting first impression. After I finally dropped off my stuff at the hostel (yes I got lost on the way to my hostel) I headed over to the old Jewish Ghetto. It is the oldest in all of Europe, but it was actually dissolved well before WWII, so it was not in use as THAT kind of Ghetto. I took a tour, which went through three synagogues, and I learned a lot about the history of Jews in Venice. Unfortunately, there are barely any Jews left in Venice today, but there used to be a very large, thriving population.

After getting lost some more, which I really didn’t mind because I was getting lost in Venice, I found my way to the Piazza San Marco, which was pretty, but it was too late to go into the Basilica, so I just had a look around. Then, to my extreme surprise and delight, I managed to find the Church of San Barnaba, the exterior of which was used as the exterior of the Venetian Library in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where “X marks the spot.”

The next day I woke up early and got a Vaporetto, a water bus, to Murano, where they make all the fabulous glass. Zooming through the water, I totally felt like Indiana Jones. I wanted to jump onto the boat next to us and demand to know where they where holding Sean Connery. Remembering at the last minute that I was not in fact Harrison Ford, I refrained. At Murano, I went a little souvenir crazy, but that is okay, because most of my family, including myself, benefit from this fit of madness. On the way back, with my wallet empty, lest just say I felt less than Jones-like. After taking shelter from a thunderstorm for a few hours, I went back out to San Marco and went into the Basilica, which was very pretty. Then I went to the Doge’s Palace, which, while expensive, was really interesting, because I learned a lot about Venetian government, and I also got to see the old prisons which was satisfyingly creepy. I never knew that Venice has such a successful history as a republic, before they became part of Italy! I really need to expand my historical studies.

That was it for Venice; I only spent about 1 ½ days there. It was the right amount of time though, because although yes Venice is very beautiful, there is not a lot to do besides walk around, and there are tens of thousands of other tourists doing the same thing. It was not as crowded as Rome, but the tourist-to-local ratio was higher, so I rarely felt like I was in Italy, and mostly felt like I was in some beautiful theme park where the main attractions were the buildings.

When in Rome...

(Could I really give this post ANY other title?) 

Oy vey, did I have a trek from Avignon to Rome. I took a train in the morning to Ventimiglia, a little Italian town on the border of France and Italy. It was charming enough, but with my backpack slowing me down, I did not do much exploring. I did make it down to the seaside, and help myself to my first Italian gelato.

At the train station in Ventimiglia I met absolutely the most charming woman in Italy. We struck up a conversation, and although her English wasn’t grade A, we covered topics varying from religion to the superiority of big dogs over small dogs. Meeting with such joy and welcome after just crossing the border into Italy was extremely heartening. 

After a 5 hour layover, it was time to get my overnight train to Rome. I was excited, having never taken an overnight train before, and immensely disappointed in the experience.  I chose not to pay extra for a sleeper, and just had a normal chair, a situation in which I had fallen asleep numerous times. The man across from me, being rather portly, decided it was necessary for his comfort that his legs be extended all the way across the aisle until his feet were under my seat. Not wanting to play footsie with the large Pakistani man, I was forced to fidget and wriggle the whole 6 hours, as he dreamily shifted his bulk according to his whims. I have never hated anyone so much.

I disembarked eagerly at 6am. I was determined that even with my mental and physical state what it was, I would continue with my original plan and go to the Vatican first thing after dropping off my pack at the hostel. Well the Vatican went off without a hitch. I saw the beautiful Sistine Chapel, as well as the countless other glories that the Vatican Museum and St. Peter’s Basilica have to offer. My favorite painting was by an artist I had never heard of before, whose name I do not recall. It was of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, surrounded by lush plants and colorful animals. The detail was amazing, and all of the animals were in pairs, mimicking the first couple. It was just stunning. Look it up. Although, the real version is about the size of a wall, so I doubt your computer screen will capture it. Wow, how elitist did I sound just then? I studied at Oxford. NBD.

Next up I was going to traipse cheerfully to the Cimitero Acattolico, the cemetery for non-Catholics and non-Romans who have the audacity to die in Rome. Unfortunately, being me, this was rather difficult. By the time I found it, I had managed to walk all the way around the walls bordering it before finding the entrance, and I was absolutely shattered. Lack of sleep, physical decomposition, and the mental exhaustion that comes from trying your hardest to find something for 30 minutes when you know it is mocking you from only 5 minutes away completely overcame me. The only thing that alleviated the situation was the fact that no one could really think me strange for sobbing in a cemetery. Once I had regained a semblance of control, I went and visited the graves of Keats and Shelley. Keats’ tombstone, which reads “Here lies one whose name was writ in water,” was extremely moving. It made me think a lot of thoughts that I will not bore you with here, but you should consider having some of those same thoughts. They are quite beneficial. I also paid a visit to the grave of the father of the man who assassinated Rasputin. His grave was a big elaborate cross with Russian writing on it that I could only assume read “best dad ever.”

I took the metro home.

The next day I woke up feeling refreshed and emotionally balanced. I did a lot of sightseeing that day, I went to the Roman Forum and the Colusseum, both extremely impressive and extremely old. My favorite was the Pantheon though. The way the Roman exterior and the Medieval/Renaissance interior work together is astonishing and fascinating. I thought it was really beautiful. Most of the rest of the day was devoted to wandering and eating. Gelato, mostly.

Silly Jews and their horns

Then my last day in Rome I made a few important stops. I went to St. Pietro in Vincoli, or St. Peter in Chains, to see the statue of Moses by Michelangelo that is somehow both hilarious and extremely offensive: he has horns. Next up was the Capitaline Museum, for the exhibit of the Vatican Secret Archives, which was awesome. There were so many documents of extreme historical significance, documents that it would bore most people to read about another person seeing. Still...it was really cool. Then I wandered over to the Trevi Fountain, gorgeous as advertised, and the Spanish Steps, where my first thought was “like hell I am climbing those.” Since I am on my own, I have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone, and, well, I did not climb them, and I do not regret it. Lastly I went with my book to the Botanical gardens, and wandered around and had a nice read. The Botanical Gardens, while beautiful, are outrageously expensive, and if I hadn’t wandered hopelessly for 45 minutes trying to find the place, I would not have paid. As it was, I was so determined to see these elusive gardens that I paid the 8 euro.  

So that was it for Rome. Overall, I loved it as a tourist for a short stay, but I don’t know if I could bear to live there (sorry Inbar), or even take a long vacation there. It is extremely crowded and very much a big city, despite all of the Roman ruins strewn dramatically around the place. Still, its importance and impressiveness cannot be denied, and I had a really good time. 

I think that is enough emotion for one blog post. I would just like to add that although hostels may not be the peak of luxury, they promote such a wonderfully social culture. I have become so much more open and friendly, just because that is how you have to be when you live in a room with 20 other people. I just had a girl I have never seen before come up to me and ask to plug her phone into my computer so that it could charge. In most situations, I would think that is weird, but here I gave her a big smile and let her plug away. Here in this hostel we are all experiencing the same travel woes, we all have advice and stories, and the small fact that we have never met before and may never meet again will not stop us from sharing them.  

 I continue to lag further and further behind, as Rome was over a week ago I believe, and I am currently in Innsbruck, Vienna, which is absolutely gorgeous. Parts of this post were written in Florence, and parts in Venice. I'm taking my time. I hope you enjoy my adventures!

Avignon, a place in which I could totally live

The train ride from Paris to Avignon was beautiful. The countryside was breathtaking. I assume. I slept through it all, even having to be physically woken up by the conductor so he could check my ticket. Once I got to the city, it was no easy task to get to my hostel, but I managed it, wheezing in the 90 degree heat under the weight of my backpack. Man, every time I complain I sound like a really terrible person, don’t I? Poor me, in southern France. Anyway, I had previously decided that Avignon would be the perfect way for me to recover from Paris, so I checked in to my hostel, beautifully situated right on the Rhone river, and took a 3 hour nap. Once I was up, I flailed around in the heat for a while but failed to accomplish much, except possibly the most refreshing raspberry sorbet I have ever had.

The next day I woke up bright and early at 8:30, had a delicious petit dejeuner complete with croissant and hot chocolate, and took a bus to the Benedictine Monastery I had so ineffectively attempted to walk to the previous day. It was beautiful. I had gotten so used to the havoc wreaked on Abbeys and Nunneries by Henry VIII, that I had forgotten that religious houses could be more or less intact. It was beautiful and serene. I think I love nothing more than walking the cloisters of a deserted monastery.

I took a walking tour later that included a visit to the Pope’s Palace, which was very informative and interesting. The papacy was in Avignon for a while in some medieval century or other, and during that time the Pope had this palace built. It is now the largest Gothic palace in Europe, so well done Pope. The most entertaining part of the tour, I felt, was the way that all of the 60 and 70 year old men and women on the tour kept volunteering useless and/or inaccurate information, as if to prove themselves to the rest of the group. Like eager children, they would finish her sentences when she paused, as if to say, “harrumph, these many years of mine have been spent in pursuit of knowledge, harrumph.” How strange, that these elderly people should resort to strategies that young children use to impress people. 

I spent a couple hours in the evening sitting by the river with my kindle and my journal, just enjoying the French evening. I slightly envied the groups of jovial French people picnicking, but for the most part I was content to be alone. I consulted the Avignon skyline for confirmation, and decided yes. I could definitely live here. If I learnt French. And had a lot of money. I could buy the monastery!

Land of the Lost

Hello lords and ladies. It is beautiful and sunburn-worthy out there, and I am sitting in my room staring at this screen. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices I make for you. Actually that was a lie just then, its 11pm. I did get sunburnt in Paris, but it’s okay, because I’m from southern California, so I’m immune to UV Rays. That is also a lie, but it keeps me from thinking about how any one of my freckles could kill me some day. Anyway, the point of this blog post is Paris.

Well I got there on time and found my hostel really easily, strangely enough. It was after that that the problems began. I went off in search of Sacre Coeur. In typical Hannah style, I ignored the fact that this hugerific church was actually visible from the street adjacent, and set off in the complete opposite direction. After walking in a circle or two, I finally got up the courage to ask someone for help. That mostly consisted of me standing in front of a woman and sort of shrugging and looking generally helpless. “Where are you trying to go?” She asked me. She spoke English. Of course she did. She was from Texas. Luckily, she knew where Sacre Coeur was (I think I was the only one in the city who didn’t) and she even walked me most of the way there. Seriously the thing is massive, and it basically overlooks the whole city. Well, such is life. When you are me.

I mean its pretty easy to miss...

After this fiasco I did not even try to find Moulin Rouge. Instead I went to the Musee d’Orsay, easy to find because the metro drops you off almost within sight of the building. I was exhausted after spending all night in the Dublin airport, and possibly not in the best mood for appreciating art. Would I be a terrible person if I mostly wanted to see the Van Goghs, and that mostly for reasons of a Doctor Who nature? They are beautiful and striking works of art...but also the Doctor. I think if I had been less delirious it would have been much more meaningful. As it was, I went through the museum mentally storing works of art so that I could appreciate them when everything was less woozy. However because of said wooziness my retention was much reduced.

*Insert nap time here* Next quest of the day was to find the Jewish Quarter and go to Le Palais De Thes for my dad, and the falafel place for Inbar (and myself). Refer to the title of this blog post if you have any doubts as to how this turned out. I had failed to look up directions to the tea shop, and I couldn’t find the street that the falafel place was supposedly on. “So much for that,” I thought, munching my baguette avec jambon et gruyere. “My life is still pretty awesome,” was my next thought.

I would totally live there if I was a peasant

Day two of Paris was set-aside for my visit to Versailles! I arrived at the magnificent palace, and magnificently used my expired student visa to get in for free! The palace itself was amazing and gaudy and completely what I had expected, but in the best of ways. The gardens were fantastic and expansive. Did you hear that bell? That’s right, its time for Hannah to get lost again! (Your clue was the word ‘expansive’) I made my way all the way to the other side of the estate to Marie Antoinette’s “Hamlet” which, by the way, is about the same type of Hamlet as Kenneth Branaugh, in that they are both somewhat unnecessarily and inexplicably grandiose. The queen had this Hamlet built so that she could play peasant without having to actually come into contact with commoners. Basically imagine thatched roof mansions everywhere, complete with a lake strewn with lily pads, a play farm, and a fantasy lighthouse. So now comes the part I was telling you about, the part when I get lost. I tried to get back to the actual chateau of Versailles and somehow ended up on some sort of actual farm. Luckily I ran away before anyone could attempt to ascertain what the heck I was doing there. I went all the way back to the Hamlet and creepily followed some other people back to the chateau. But hey, I got out, and before long I was eating a nutella and banana crepe in the city center.  Sidenote: I had Doctor Who/Madame Du Pompadour related fun at Versailles as well.

To wind up the day, I went and rested my aching feet with an hour on a bench in the Tuileries Garden, just sitting and reading in the shade. Man it is good to be alive and me right now.  Before I went to sleep that night I made a list of all of the things I had yet to do in Paris.

Last crusades, anyone?

The next morning I woke up bright and early with my list and got to the Catacombs before it opened, because they only let in 200 people per day. I was somewhere around 150, and I was there 15 minutes before opening. It was a very interesting experience. Down in the semi-darkness, surrounded by bones and skulls, you expect and even want to feel a morbid spookiness. Personally, due to the noise of the other tourists around me, all I could feel was an interest in the construction and artistic design. The way the bones are arranged, it is nearly impossible to think of them as having once been humans. That being said, it was completely awesome and I felt like Indiana Jones.

Next I went to the Musee du Moyen Age, or the medieval museum, which was built around the ruins of Paris’s only Roman ruins, an ancient Bath. Being a huge medieval history nerd, I really enjoyed this museum.

After that, following my list I popped into Notre Dame, the Shakespeare and Co. bookstore, gave myself a little breather lying on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower, saw the Arc de Triumphe and walked down the Champs de Elysees. When I got back to my hostel I took a rest, and then some friends and I (I met some really awesome people at this hostel) went to the Eiffel Tower at 11 to see the light show. It was spectacular, and it felt really nice to be surrounded by friendly English speaking faces. The wine didn’t hurt.

So that is a logistic summary of my time in Paris. Mentally I was even more all over the place. This being the first city I’ve seen on my own in my European tour, it really made an impact on me. At first  I felt like I could not enjoy myself as much all alone, but by the second day I was loving the ability to set my own schedule, and reveling in my independence. By the third day I had made friends in my hostel and was no longer alone. I expect the rest of the trip will be variations on those three themes.  Mostly I just feel extremely lucky, and I believe I will continue to feel that way until my money runs out.

Land of 1,000 pubs

So you may have noticed that I have not said anything about leaving Bath and saying goodbye to the city and all of the friends I had fallen so deeply in love with this past semester. That is because it did not happen. They are still there, I'm sure, just waiting for me to come back. Moving on.

I arrived in Dublin on Saturday at around 9:30. I walked most of the way to Dylan's apartment, and then naturally got completely lost on his street, trying to find his apartment complex. After wandering back and forth on the street and realizing my phone wouldn't make the international call to Dylan's phone, I wandered into a doctor's office and used their phone. Since I was on his street, it took Dylan all of five minutes to come find me, and I was quickly shown the error of my ways. I had at one point, been directly across the street from his place. Of course I had. This whole trip could be a catalog of Hannah makes stupid directional decisions if I decided to take that route. In order to save myself from embarrassment, and you from having to read an entire novel, I have decided to just leave those out.

Once Inbar had gotten over her delight and amazement at seeing me in Dublin (I told her I would be in Paris so that we could surprise her), the three of us set off on a tour of Trinity College. It is a really impressive sight, I must say. We were very amused by Dylan's disgust for the bell in the center of the square, which only rings ten minutes before finals. After seeing the Book of Kells (for free, NBD), we went to the Chester Beatty library, another literary location. This library is more of a museum, an amazing assortment of rare and old books from all parts of the world. I especially enjoyed the oriental scrolls and books, because as much as I enjoy a good illuminated manuscript, these beautiful works were all new to me, as I am racist. (Disclaimer: I'm not actually racist, I just happen to prefer European history) The Chester Beatty library is really wonderful, because its contents are fascinating, but it is off-the-beaten-track enough to make it a peaceful quiet place.

Our next destination would be less peaceful and quiet. The Old Jameson Distillery. We arrived just in time to be greeted by my advisor from Denison University, Dr. Snay. So that is a thing that happened. The distillery tour itself was really fun. I was expecting that touring a place where alcohol was made would make me feel like an adult, but in fact I experienced the opposite. Being led around, shown models of things and getting a treat at the end of it all made me feel rather childish. Free whiskey though, so I'm not complaining. A tour guide on one of our day trips would tell us that the Guinness storehouse was a complete tourist trap and absolutely not worth the money, while the Jameson distillery definitely was, and I felt justified in my decision to skip the Guinness.

After a makeshift dinner of deviled eggs and cheese sandwiches, we hit the pubs so that Dylan could show us his local spots. We started out at the Bleeding Horse, and were met by a bunch of his friends. From there we all migrated to Flannery's (or something else similarly Irish) and were generally boisterous there until we headed home for the night.

The next morning we were up early for our day trip to Glendalough Monastery. Our tour guide was named Michael, and he was hilarious and Irish and great. First we made a stop for tea, and then we wound our way through the gorgeous Wicklow mountains. We made several stops at the most notable views, including a lake known as Guinnes Lake. Its owner decided to create a white sand beach along one side, and because the water is such a dark color, from above it now looks just like a foamy pint of Guinness. It was at this stop that our driver brought out the Jameson. At this point I am starting to realize that the stereotype of Irish drinking habits, well, it may be an understatement. Thankfully, the Jameson was for the tourists, and it was a welcome treat, although some of us may have indulged more than others *cough and pointed look*. After this we arrived at our final destination. Dylan prefaced this trip with repeated declarations of love for Glendalough, and I was slightly skeptical, due to a knowledge of his general dramatic nature. In this case, I can say for certain he did not once over exaggerate. The beauty of Glendalough, which as he told me means "the valley of two lakes," was absolutely breathtaking. The monastery itself was merely a small percentage of the attraction. Following a path through a slightly wooded area, you will come to a lake. It is a relatively small lake, but absolutely peaceful and beautiful. It is the kind of lake that you could stare at comfortably for a while, appreciating both its beauty and its manageable size. Then you keep walking, and you get to the second lake, and everything stops. Set between two mountains, this lake and its surroundings are absolutely the most beautiful thing I have ever personally seen. Indescribable.

To prevent myself from spewing such nonsense for the next ten minutes, I will force myself on to the literary pub crawl that we took that night once we were home.

There is not too much to say about this, except for that it was a rollicking good time, and we all enjoyed ourselves very much. We visited four pubs, and after that we stopped off at one more that Dylan wanted to show us on the way back. Still, we were home by 11:30, realizing that we had to get up early the next morning for another day trip. However, we did not count on the fact that we were three members of Team Kenny reunited, and of course we stayed up talking until about 1:30, when we realized that we had managed to ensure that we would sleep through absolutely everything our tour guide told us on the bus the next day.

Like zombies we loaded onto the bus at 8:30 for our trip to Newgrange, the Hill of Tara, and Monasterboice. Newgrange is a Neolithic burying mound older than Stonehenge and the Pyramids of Giza, and large enough to walk into, which we did eagerly. It was much more impressive than I had anticipated, and like much else I had seen and done in Ireland, it was completely unlike anything I had experienced before. The Hill was very historically important, but really, it is just a hill. The fairy tree, where people tie ribbons in hope of good health, was very cool though. Monasterboice is a graveyard dotted with beautifully decorated tall celtic crosses telling various biblical stories. Walking around was very fun and interesting, despite some morbid contemplation of death that was unavoidable. After this we made our way back to Dylan's apartment for some delicious vegetarian chilli, and I completely repacked so that I could fit my backpack into RyanAir's tiny carry on box one more time. We left about two hours before I had to catch my bus to the airport so that, yes, you guess it, we could visit a couple more pubs. This time we went to the Bernard Shaw, a super hipster pub complete with double decker bus in the beer garden. Then we went to the Porterhouse, which is a micro-brewery, so that was cool for people who like beer (Dylan and Inbar).  Too soon it was time for me to say goodbye to Dublin and to my wonderful friends. Now here I sit, in the Dublin airport at 1:30am, waiting for my 6:00am flight to Paris.

I would just like to say a huge thank you to Dylan for planning this whole thing so well, for Glendalough, and for not getting angry at me when I needed him to help me find the exit to the pub I had just entered (this happened multiple times). Also for feeding me. That was nice too.

Denial, thy name is Hannah

Hi fellas,

As I wrap up my time in Bath, I am desperately scrabbling to check things off of my list, and I thought I would share with you some of the things I have managed to get done.

Last Sunday a couple friends and I finally went on the Skyline Walk, which is a 6-mile hike around Bath, keeping the skyline in view almost the whole time. We brought a picnic, and had a very lovely time. At one point we found ourselves at one of Bath's silliest landmarks, Sham Castle.

View from the front

View from the back

The story goes that when Bath was at its height in the Georgian period, a wealthy man wanted to improve the view from his estate, so he built himself this 'folly.'



There were also a lot of cows. All up in our faces. Except when we tried to touch them. Then they ran away. Cows are adorable.

After the Skyline Walk we found out about this cider festival going on in a pub called the Bell Inn. We ran over and tried a bunch of different kinds of cider and we got to use an old-fashioned apple press to make fresh apple juice! I felt just like a pioneer. That's how the pioneers felt, right?

Anne Hathaway's rather large cottage

On Tuesday my entire program went to Stratford-Upon-Avon for three days. We stayed in bed and breakfasts, and I must say waking up to a full English breakfast is something I am completely OK with. We spent our days visiting various Shakespeare related properties and drinking milkshakes and calculating the percentage of boys that were brought to the yard. My favorite property was Anne Hathaway's cottage, with its adorable thatched roof, and gazebo that plays sonnets when you push a button. My favorite milkshake was oreo, and it brought 85%-90% of the boys to the yard.

We say a play each night: Comedy of Errors, Twelfth Night, and Richard III. Comedy of Errors received a very mixed reaction from the group, as did Twelfth Night. They were both done by the same cast, as part of a special presentation of Shakespeare's three 'shipwreck plays.' The third of this arbitrary category was the Tempest which we did not see.  My favorite play was Richard III, which I had never seen or read before, but now absolutely love. Fun fact: Richard III is the 2nd longest role in Shakespeare. Hamlet is the longest role, as well as the longest play. I have to say that I have more opinions and knowledge about various Shakespeare plays at this moment than I ever have before and probably ever will again. Certainly more than I need.

On the way back from Stratford we went to Kenilworth Castle, which was really cool. It was the perfect balance of ruin and castle, so there was plenty to wander around and climb on, but it still felt like a centuries-old ruin.

The day after we got back, I had my very last study trip. We went to Montacute house, one of the best remaining examples of Tudor architecture. It was a lovely day, and the house and the gardens were beautiful. I found a swing in the middle of a peaceful lawn, and sat on it for about ten minutes watching the tourists pass me by, eating my packed lunch.
It didn't hurt that ASE bought us tea and scones either. 

Saturday, just a few days ago was my last trip to the organic garden. I left them with my email address and my thanks. I could not think of a more welcoming and wonderful group of people, and I am so glad that I got up the courage to go that first time.

Also on Saturday I also went to my last Bath farmer's market, and the man who sells the delicious pies and tarts made me this: 

Because some people are just the best people. I will never forget you pie guy!

People Might Notice When I Leave

Today I was confronted with a difficult fact, for the second time. The first time it was when I left Footprint Publishing for the last time. That fact was that I am not only leaving behind places and things that I have grown to love, but also people, who might actually think about me once or twice when they notice I am not where I usually am at a particular time.

This morning I went to the farmer's market, as I do every Saturday morning because I am occasionally a housewife. I went to have a chat with the man who sells the most delicious tarts and pies, as I have a few times previously, and was startled to see he seemed to greet me with a smile, as if he was expecting me. I mentioned that next weekend would be my last farmer's market in Bath, and he told me to "come 'round next week" and he might have something for me.  This simple gesture and the cheerful way he always talks to me moved me quite a large amount.  I was struck by how nice people in Bath are, and how easy it is to get free pie.

Next I went to the Organic Garden, as I do mostly every week. I visited the onions I had planted so long ago, and I weeded them carefully. We are all trying to help the garden look its best for the Open Day coming up. No less than three people came up to me and, remembering I had been sick the week before, asked me how I was feeling. The thing was, they did not just ask. They actually cared. I was so extremely touched to see that I had made some true friends here in Bath without even trying. Somehow, while I was weeding and watering, bonds had sprung up between my fellow gardeners and I.  These people do not live with me, they do not have classes with me, many of them were not born in the same decade as me. They did not need to be nice to me, or even know my name, much less care about how I was feeling. But they did, simply and completely. Faith in humanity stronger than ever. I can't wait to go to the Open Day at the Organic Garden on Monday, and take advantage of the time I have left with these amazing people.

Going backwards for a moment, I should mention that last Tuesday I had my last internship day, and last Wednesday I had my last meeting with the Footprint people. Amongst all my freaking out in the last post I forgot to mention that I was actually really sad to leave behind the people at Footprint. Way more sad than I thought I would be. It turns out I had really been looking forward to chatting with the people around me about weekend plans and the best places to go for fish n' chips. It was with much regret and a heavy heart that I left MY office for the final time that Wednesday, even though I had gotten such good news only a few minutes before. I really hope that I can keep in touch with my coworkers and friends, and I do not mean that only in a "please help me get a job" way. I absolutely will miss you guys.

Man this is just going to get sadder as I get closer to leaving, isn't it?

A day.

I was going to call this post "The Best Day Ever," but as you may come to see, there was a little bit of sadness in it too. Let me count the ways.

1. Today my sister flew to Florida. She and the rest of the UC Santa Cruz water polo team are off to national championships, and I am so proud of her! Good luck Lauren!

2. Today was a food money day, which means I went from having no money, to having money!

3. I was very productive today working on my last big assignment, my portfolio for my internship. 4700 words written out of 6000, a big weight off of my mind as I began the day with only 3000 words, and it is due Friday.

4. I finally caved to my dad and bought myself a money belt for my European adventure. As lame as it will feel and look, I know it will keep my important belongings safe.

5. I got a big guidebook to Rome as well as a pop-up map, from my fabulous co-workers and friends at Footprint publishing.

6. I have a chance to write a column in a big British newspaper called The Independent. Oh I'm sorry, what was that? You want to know more? Are you sure? Well I will tell you. I mentioned in my final internship meeting that I would be keeping a journal as I travel through Europe.  My boss, a wonderful human being, who could be reading this very blog at this very moment, told me that if I write something good enough while I'm in Rome or Venice, there is a chance that he can get it into a column that Footprint runs every couple of weeks in the travel section. I am sure he knows exactly how big of a deal this is to me, as I almost leapt out of my chair I was so excited.  One step closer to living my dream of being a female Bill Bryson!  I am trying to keep this understated, you see, because like I said, he could be reading this, so shhhhh. I am completely calm and sane and no need to worry about me officer!
Edit: I am now freaking out that I was way too optimistic about this, and so if it doesn't happen, pretend like I never freaked out about it? Like that thing where you tell everyone the date and time of your driver's test, and then if you fail...everyone has to know?

7. Getting home, I was far too excited about life to stay inside, so I took my kindle, and I went for a walk along the canal. I know mom and dad, I'm not supposed to read while I am walking in public places, but I am 20 now, and A REBEL.  I soon realized it was best to focus on my book, because every time I looked up, I was greeted by a scene of such calm, simple, natural, overwhelming, simultaneously-every-adjective beauty, that I felt a pain in my stomach at the thought of leaving. Bath has found its way into my heart completely and utterly. I want to stay, so badly I want to stay. Before today, I have made the outwardly appropriate responses, the trappings and the suits of woe, if you will, but today for the first time along that canal I  felt real despair at the idea of leaving. I looked around me and felt absolutely that I could stay in this place for the rest of my life. This city is beautiful everywhere, and the love I feel for it truly cannot be expressed in words. I will miss you Bath. Maybe I'll be back sooner than you think?

Goodbye Bath

An Attempt at Summary

I've gotten really sick of seeing my writing seemingly uncontrollably barfing out onto these pages with every excruciating detail of my life, and I'm sure you have too. So, I am going to make bullet points instead, of all of the important things I have done since spring break (it's already been about 3 weeks):

• I've been roller skating (twice) at the Bath Pavillion. The first time I totally herped and derped, but I only fell twice! The second time I only herped, and by the end I was feeling pretty confident! It was so much fun. I had forgotten how much fun can be had doing something so simple as putting on a pair of shoes with wheels and running around in them for a couple hours. 
• At the Porter last week, Sarah and I stumbled upon a random Ska concert that was actually decent! It was the greatest surprise I've had in a long time. The band was just setting up when Sarah and I had wandered downstairs, and here was my train of thought: "Is that a saxophone? No...too good to be true...wait...that is definitely a trumpet...OHMYGOD IT IS AN UNDERGROUND BRITISH SKA BAND! They were pretty awesome, if only for the complete wonderful randomness of stumbling upon them like we did. 
• My house (the best house) hosted a Murder Mystery Dinner Party, which was, I have to say, a complete success. Never have I laughed so much while accusing a person of murder. The boy playing the medium was one of our favorites, because he would stop conversations, put his hands to his head, and get messages from the dead, keeping a completely straight face, and using hilarious voices.  We're planning another one, this time for 19 people because so many people want in. I was a British Shakespearean actress last time, this time I'm going to be a vagrant. Exciting, huh? 
• We went on a gorgeous 7-mile hike along the Dorset coast. Challenging, but absolutely worth it, and the views were amazing. We sang Disney songs as we hiked. My people are the best people. On the way back, we stopped at Corfe Castle, which was absolutely amazing, and we sensibly ignored the rules and climbed the heck out of those ruins.
• Kaylee turned 21, so we celebrated by baking brie and eating it with baguettes while watching A Knight's Tale and mooning over Heath Ledger. All in all, a good time. Then on Tuesday we went to Cheese Night at Moles to celebrate in true 21st birthday style. That was also fun. 
• I went to the Well's farmer's market with Hilary. I absolutely love farmer's markets. I bought everything. It was crazy. Total haul: 1 loaf of bread, 1 scone, 1 eclair (for Laura), 1 bottle of apple juice, 1 box of raspberries, 1 jar of rhubarb & ginger jam, and 3 grapefruits. Yeah. I think that's it. Oh. And some cheese. 
• I went to a Bath Rugby game! We beat the London Wasps 17-12 or something like that. It was so much fun! I felt like such a local, cheering on my team with a pint of cider in one hand and half a smuggled-in sandwich in the other. 
• I went to London for the day to see Patty, Eric, and Abby, my cousins, who were in London, and for once I let someone else think for me. We wandered around Harrods, and went to the Victoria and Albert Museum. The best part is? I didn't have to plan a thing. (Except the train tickets)
• I went back to Glastonbury so that I could climb up to the Tor. Definitely worth it, very cool. 
• It seems I have friends at my internship! And with only one week left. Want proof? Check out Herman, my friendship cake. Similar to sourdough bread, he requires a starter aka you need a friend to pass one on to you. He sits on my kitchen counter for 10 days and I periodically "feed him" and stir him. On the tenth day, I cut him into four pieces, give two away, keep one, and bake one! My co-worker Felicity gave me one of hers. Strange as the gesture may seem, it really did make me feel like I was part of their office community. Next week is my last week, so I'll be finagling for some free swag (aka pop-up maps).

Have some pictures! 

He's little now, but just you wait

Corfe! It's the castliest!

A fond farewell

Amazing Dorset coastline, students too exhausted to notice

So that has been my life. Pretty awesome, I would say. Also, a pretty successful and concise summary. So that's good. Hopefully this will be more entertaining than long-winded accounts of spring break trips.

Madrid, or THE DAY OF ALL THE TIRED (and the rest of the trip)

So remember how cheerful I was about saying goodbye to Barcelona? Keep that in mind as we progress.

We went to bed that night in Barcelona at 10pm, but it didn't do any good, because it was way too early to fall asleep. Bleary eyed after about 30 minutes total of sleep, we got out of our beds at 2:00am, packed up in the dark, took our 3:00am taxi to our 3:30 bus to our 6:50am flight. It was hellish.  I left IAmNotANugget (my water bottle) at the Barcelona bus station. No. It was hell. RIP.  When we arrived in Madrid, we took the subway to get to our hostel. We were two hours early to check in to our room. Hell. At least the woman let us leave our bags with her until we could put them in our room. Disconsolate, we wandered Madrid aimlessly in the pouring rain. We wandered into a cafe and had a real brunch, which was the first step in bringing our spirits up. Finally we staggered back into the hostel, and were greeted with a welcome sight. When we were booking this hostel, little did we imagine the joy that would be pumping through our veins at the sight of our private three bed room with its own bathroom. Each bed had covers AND sheets (a rarity in hostels) and we had an amazing view of rainy Madrid. Laughing deliriously, we fell into our beds and slept and slept and slept. I was so tired that in my journal all I wrote about our pre-hostel wander was "Oh, we did go to an art museum...something of San Fernando." Then I went on to whine about how wet my shoes were. Look how happy we were in our room!

Looking back, the museum was very nice, and there were Goya and Ruebens paintings which we especially enjoyed staring zombie-like at.

LOOK YOU GUYS TWO DAYS IN ONE BLOG POST

Thanks to the fact that we pooped out all of our first day in Madrid in our hostel room, I have room to tell you about our next day! We found an all you can eat breakfast buffet for 5 euro, so that alone made the day wonderful compared to the previous day. Then we went to the Archeology Museum. It was closed. Thankfully, the National Library happened to be right on the other side, so we had a look in there instead. It was their 300th Anniversary, so, kind of a big deal. There was an exhibit entitled "Biblias del Sefaredad," accompanied by an image of a boat that looked like it had come out of an old manuscript. Well it looked cool, and it was free, so we headed in. The first couple manuscripts on display were really old Torahs, which was so cool! And then...the next were Jewish things too...and I started to wonder. I took out my pamphlet, which was in Spanish, and read enough to understand that wait a minute, this was not an exhibit on old sailors, but one on Sephardic Jews! I enlightened my friends, and the rest of the gallery made a lot more sense. It was actually really cool, and I recognized a lot of the names (Rashi, Maimonides) from Hillel and from Jewish school.

Next stop, THE PRADO. It's in big letters cuz its important, guys. The Prado is one of the most important art galleries in Europe, if not in the world. So naturally, Hannah B. had to be sent home after about an hour. But Hannah C. and I enjoyed ourselves immensely, proving to the world that I was grown-up enough to actually appreciate art! We spent 4 hours there, and still missed about 1 1/2 floors. 4 hours was enough though, and it stopped pouring rain long enough for us to walk back to our hostel! Annnnnd that's about it. We took it a lot easier in Madrid, partially because it was raining almost the entire time, and partially because we had exhausted ourselves running around in Barcelona. Next stop, Toledo!

Edit: This used to be two blog posts, but I am consolidating...I'm learning to be concise...yeah right. 

Alright, we are here to complete (finally) the tale of my spring break.

Skyline

So.  Toledo, a quick high-speed train ride from Madrid. It was absolutely gorgeous. We were promised rain, but luckily for us it was completely dry all day! While there are not too many "tourist" attractions, the place is still filled with tourists because it is just s'darn beautiful. Medieval and Renaissance architecture abounds in this fair city. Sidenote: there is a street called Calle de Toledo, Ohio.

We made a stop at the oldest synagogue in Europe, which was pretty neat, and I have to say, quite a nice change from all of the old churches we have been seeing. The cathedral was actually closed, because it was Good Friday, so we missed out on that. It was more of a Jewish day. We celebrated Passover instead of Easter, you might say.

Jesus in Madrid

Upon returning to Madrid, we stumbled upon another Jesus parade, this time for Good Friday! That makes one in each city! I gotta say, we picked an excellent time of the year to experience Spanish culture.

The next day was our last in Madrid, and boy did we make the most of it. It was definitely our best Madrid day. We started out at this cool little museum that was basically this guy's private art collection. When he died he was like "look, you can have my stuff, but you have to keep it all together in this house." So now its a really cool museum. His chandeliers especially were fantastic, although I suppose the famous artist's paintings were pretty cool too. 

Seriously though...

After the house museum thing, we wandered past the royal palace, which was suitably royal, and then hopped on the metro to la Plaza del Toros. This was definitely my favorite Madrid destination. The bull-fighting arena, still in use today, offers English-language tours as well as Spanish ones. We took an English tour, and it was definitely worth the 7 euro. It was fascinating! Our guide explained in intricate detail the process of raising, training, and killing a bull. Did you know that if the matador fails to kill his bull within the allotted time, he goes to jail for the night and has to pay a heavy fine? They take this stuff really seriously. And it is so dangerous! Imagine fighting a bull with a skinny little sword that you have to place at a certain point in his back, only accessible by an actual leap as he charges at you, in order to kill him correctly. The statue in the courtyard is of the man who invented Penicillin, because of the amount of matadors' lives it has saved. Just sayin'.

Anyway I guess that about wraps it up! Thank god! Now I can move on with my live, and tell you about the present. Spoiler alert Liza: I finally went to Jamuna today! It was sooooo good.

*Barcelona Pun Pending*

Hello neighbors! (not really (well really hello but not really neighbors))

I was going to try really hard to squeeze multiple days into one blog post, because I'm sure you are as sick of my spring break as I am, but then I looked back at my journal for today, and A LOT HAPPENED. So...sorry about this, but hopefully you will find it entertaining or educational.

Note the scaffolding 

We woke up a little later than usual because Hannah C. and I had only gotten home at 4:30am (see last blog post for shenanigans).  First up was La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's famous unfinished masterpiece. Construction began in 1882, and check this kid out, it still isn't finished.  My personal pictures of La Sagrada Familia aren't really blog-worthy, because it was pouring rain while we were waiting in the long long line which wound all the way around the outside. So, I am off to the internet to find a suitably jaw-dropping photo.

It really is spectacular, inside and out. I've never been one to moon over architecture, but Gaudi's work has really amazed me. He builds these structures that look like they somehow belong there, like they have grown up from the landscape and have been there for eons. La Sagrada Familia was no exception. The inside, forgive me Doctor Who lovers, seemed somehow larger than it should be, especially considering the cluttered feeling I get from the amassed tombs and monuments of most cathedrals. The way the light and stone worked together created this wonderful spacious feeling, even as columns branched down from the ceiling at correct intervals. I could definitely see people worshiping here.

On our way to our next destination, something honestly terrible happened. Hannah B. was pick pocketed. The thief was an expert, truly there was nothing she could have done to prevent the crime. Still, that does not make it feel any better when your entire wallet is snatched right out of your purse. We ducked into a nearby supermercado while she called her parents and cancelled her credit cards. After a suitable mourning period, we turned to practical questions. Since there was nothing really we could do to recover her stolen goods, we had three options: 1. Find a police station and file a report that would most likely do no good since we had no information about the thief and he/she would not be able to use Hannah's credit cards. 2. Go back to the hostel and sulk. 3. Go to the chocolate museum.

Don Quixote, in chocolate

As I hope you will have guessed, we went to the chocolate museum. I mean honestly, could you hope for a better place to be pick pocketed right next to? We walked in, got free admission with our Barcelona cards, and were each handed a bar of chocolate.  We walked through the museum blindly and got through the exhibit in about the time it takes to eat a chocolate bar. Roughly. At the gift shop we bought more chocolate, and walked out feeling much happier than we could reasonably expect to after such an afternoon.

For dinner, we met up with Liz and Liz our friend, my roommate and a friend from back in Bath! We found this great little vegetarian restaurant and got some real nutrition into our bodies. It was wonderful to see friendly faces who also spoke English. We traded stories, and I took a picture!

The Liz's and the Hannah's!

Everybody say Adios, Barcelona, because tomorrow we are off to Madrid!                                                      

Barcelona? I found it very...Gaudi.

Hello again! If you’re just tuning in, we are on day 2 in Barcelona, or April 2^nd. First off was the Aquarium of Barcelona, which was pretty awesome. They had one of those moving walkways where you are surrounded by big swimmy things, which was really cool. As long as you don’t try to compare it with the Monterey Bay Aquarium, or SeaWorld, it is a really good aquarium.

For lunch we went to Barcelona’s famous covered market, La Mercat de la Boqueria. It was amazing! I would seriously live in Barcelona just for the market. Those who know me know I love a good farmer’s market and this, ladies and gentlemen, was beyond description. (yet again, I will try) Fruit stands everywhere selling delicious fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as fresh fruit juice.  Making your way farther/further back you encounter the meat and fish, which while it is kinda smelly and bloody, at least you can appreciate the freshness and the quality of it all. There were also bakeries and candy shops of course. It was just a wonderland of fresh and locally produced goods. Alllll the way in the back, just like Inbar said, was a stall called Organic is Orgasmic. Obviously this is where we had lunch. It was absolutely delicious! Thank you Inbar! 

This photo courtesy of the internet

After a good wander to digest our food, we headed off to Parc Guell. There was a huge hill to walk up to get to it, but OHMYGOD was it worth it. PAY ATTENTION PEOPLE because this was my favorite thing hands down in all of Spain. Designed by Gaudi, this marvelous park is absolutely fairyland. Glastonbury is fairyland for England, and Parc Guell is fairyland for Spain. Got it? Good. There were gorgeous ceramic structures that just looked part of the wilderness, and it was constructed on a hill, with levels of wandering paths and beautiful stone, wood, and mosaic architecture. We wandered around with our jaws hanging open for a while, and eventually came to sit on some benches overlooking the park entrance. MAN. Even these benches were the most comfortable benches we had ever sat on. They were clearly designed by Gaudi, a man who knew what the heck he was doing. I only managed one decent picture, above, so I'm including a couple others from the internet so you can all get an idea. I'll even include a picture of the fabulous benches.

Also the internet

That night we went out and experienced some Barcelona night life, courtesy of Hannah C's friend Tomas. We met up at midnight and went to a club with wildly expensive drinks, a bar, and then a burger king, and that is about all you are going to get of that story. Barcelona people are loco. It was really cool though, because it made us feel a lot less like bumbling tourists, and more like people who were really getting to know a city. We ended up taking the night bus home at 4, and getting home at 4:30 absolutely exhausted but having that "it was a good night" feeling.