My Last Post.... Written in December: Posted a Month Later

(Written Dec. 18^th)

The past two weeks have been a blur, hell the past six months have been a blur when I stop to think about them.

Eleven Countries in 133 days is no small feat! In order I have visited: France, South Africa, Italy, Scotland, Germany, Turkey, Greece, Croatia, Denmark, Spain and Belgium. (Technically I was also in Switzerland, Austria and the Netherlands, but since I only passed through I don’t’ feel right counting them.)

Now on my 19^th of 20 individual flight segments, (yes, I went back and counted) I find myself in the bulkhead row of business class on Air France. Unfortunately my in-flight entertainment seems to be on the fritz so I thought now would be a good time to blog about my most recent adventures.

I spent the last two weekends in Florence after nine weekends on the road. I could have made a trip to Austria to go skiing with some people from my Italian class but 500 euro was just too steep for my dwindling budget. After completing my finals last Thursday I finished packing my two enormous suitcases, which combined weighed in at exactly 116 pounds according to the scale at the airport this morning.

   Thursday evening I said my goodbyes and with the help of one roommate we each heaved my luggage down four flights of stairs and waited for my cab. Slightly stressed out, I had less than 20 minutes to spare when I arrived at the Santa Maria Novella Station for my night train to Paris.  When I got inside I saw on the reader board that my train was delayed by 55 minutes. On the one hand I didn’t need to worry about missing the train or rushing to get all my bags on. On the other hand, S.M.N is an open-air station so waiting around in the low 30s for over an hour wasn’t exactly ideal.

After getting some help lifting my bags onto the train I very slowly and clumsily drug and pushed and heaved and shoved all of my crap down the narrow corridor on car number 96, until I reached my ‘sleeper couchette’ (more like sardine can.) Once I got inside the compartment, not only was it pitch black, my bags were too wide to fit in the aisle, too heavy to lift onto the storage racks and there was already someone asleep in the compartment with me. Frustrated and not wanting to disturb the sleeping lady, I finally ended up with the two suitcases balanced on top of each other in the aisle, I was on my ‘bed’ spooning the top suitcase, (to keep it from falling over) with my backpack under my feet and my trench coat as a blanket I thought to myself, this is going to be a long night. Soon after there was a knock on the door, the conductor needed to check my ticket and passport, but of course I didn’t realize he would be taking my passport with him overnight so I sat there stupidly with the door wide open, waiting for him to return, until the sleeping lady kindly informed me I would get my passport back in the morning. Now that I knew she was awake and in good spirits I quietly went about stuffing my bags under the bed properly and located some bedding. Finally comfortable I drifted off into sleep as our train headed to Paris.

Sometime in the middle of the night, my beauty rest was interrupted. A man attempted to break into our compartment but thank goodness the lady with me sprung into action and yelled in Italian for him to get lost. At the time I really didn’t know what was going on, but the next morning when we were given back our passports the conductor informed us that a man had been trying to break into compartments to pickpocket guests, with the aid of some kind of tranquilizer to sedate his victims. Apparently this isn’t an uncommon occurrence either. The lady in my compartment explained what had happened to us during the night and confirmed his description with the conductor. Needless to say the night train to Paris is straight ghetto in my opinion, and I couldn’t have been happier to be leaving for the U.S. in less than 24 hours where gypsies don’t interfere with my daily life.

After schlepping my bags off the train, I caught a cab to the Sheraton at the Charles De Gaulle airport. There I enjoyed the comforts of wifi, room service, the elliptical machine in the gym, a movie (Inception) and a spacious bed with no fear of pick-pocketing-gypsies disturbing my sleep.

After checking out the next morning all I had to do was roll my suitcases down to terminal 2E where I checked in for my flight to Chicago and now here I am, still pissed about my lack of in-flight entertainment but grateful for the ample leg room, reclining seat and free drinks.

I know the post is getting a bit long, (and lacks photos) but seeing as it will likely be my last on this particular subject bear with me a little longer as I reflect briefly on the past 133 days.

Obviously Africa is in a league of it’s own. Words still escape me when I try to describe the beauty of Cape Town and our trip to the Cape of Good Hope. I still am baffled when I look at a map a realize how far away South Africa is, and that I actually went there. As for the safari, nothing can really hold a candle to spending hours every day photographing wild animals, especially fluffy little cheetah cubs. I will have those memories for a lifetime and I would love the chance to do it all again.

As for Europe I feel I can’t compare my trips because it would be like comparing apples to oranges. I have a feeling I might get the question, “what was your favorite place/trip?” when I get back and I honestly don’t have an answer. I can’t compare a weekend alone in Scotland with a student tour to the Amalfi coast just like I can’t compare a cruise with my parents to my weekend in Copenhagen and Sensation white. I’m not saying every single moment was sheer awesomeness because of course there were some low point along the way. Lows points came in the form of things like getting food poisoning in Munich or getting swimmers itch in Cinque Terre. Not ideal situations but they weren’t deal breakers either.

   I know I should be having deeper thoughts on my study abroad experience as a whole and everything I have learned from it, but truthfully I haven’t emotionally reached that point yet. (Probably because I am still mad I can’t be watching the new Wall Street during this stupid flight!) Right now all I want is to make it back to Seattle with all my baggage accounted for. I want to spend the holidays with my family and friends and I will worry about the next chapter of my life when I am ready to. Right now I don’t feel that living abroad has had any major impact on the person I am but I don’t think I can make that assessment until I have spent some time adjusting to life back home.

As for the future of my blog… I must admit I only began this as a way to keep friends and family updated about my adventures without sending an annoying amount of emails every week. However, I have to say I have thoroughly enjoyed documenting my travels and I could see myself continuing to blog in the future assuming my life will still be interesting enough that I want to talk about it.

 Ciao Ciao!

A Holiday Away From Home

My typical thanksgiving goes something like this….

Prior to my family’s 2:45pm arrival at my Aunt’s house in Mukilteo, WA I usually prepare myself by not eating all morning and perhaps skipping dinner the night before. Upon arrival I find the seat that is closest to the pre-dinner spread. I only stop snacking long enough to see how the men are doing outside with the deep fried turkey and French fries. Usually by the time dinner is ready I am comfortably full but that never stops me from piling my plate high. (I learned to avoid wearing jeans to Thanksgiving dinner) After dinner I head to the couch where I spend the rest of night in a food-coma. More often than not I fall asleep and that's pretty much the extent of my Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving in Italy obviously wasn’t the same for me and it’s the first major holiday I have ever spent away from my family. In early October I was excited at the prospect of cooking my first thanksgiving, by mid November I was indifferent and by Thanksgiving morning I was flat out refusing to participate. After a few hours of pouting I finally decided to pitch in and help get the apartment cleaned up for the 10 people who would having dinner here. Initially I had only agreed to make my famous mashed potatoes but after a few minutes in the kitchen I found myself in the role of head chef. After two hours of slaving away in our steamy little kitchen Thanksgiving was on the table.

Maggie’s Mashed Potatoes Recipe:

I started making potatoes on the boat in Alaska with Red Potatoes and whatever ingredients I could find.  They have turned into quite the crowd pleaser.

You will need:

A Bag of Red or Yukon Gold Potatoes NO Russets!

A sprig or two of fresh rosemary

Salt

Pepper

Paula Dean’s attitude toward butter. NO Margarine!

Milk

A cup or two of gated Parmesan cheese

Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing

Start by giving the potatoes a little scrub under warm running water to remove any dirt. Next cut the potatoes into one or two inch cubes. 

Boil the potatoes in water until the potatoes are soft and can be easily pierced with a fork. Carefully drain the water from the pot. Add as much butter as you want depending on how many potatoes you have, for one bag (which ending up feeding 10 people perfectly) I will typically use about a half stick of butter, cut up into tablespoon sized pats for easy melting. Then pour in a good a splash of milk, but don’t drown the potatoes. Add a liberal squirt of Ranch dressing and one handful of the cheese.

The one and only.

 Next get your potato masher out and go to town until you achieve that fluffy and creamy consistency. Finish by adding a few sprinkles of salt and pepper to taste. Add the remaining cheese and a little more Ranch if you wish. Give them one more good mash and cover the pot until ready to serve.

Enjoy alone, with gravy or good company.

Nom Nom Nom...

Belgium

I almost didn't go to Brussels. Once again lured in by outrageously cheap flights on Ryan Air I found myself at the Pisa airport last Friday, making it the ninth consecutive weekend traveled.

After battling a sinus infection all week, I woke up after Thanksgiving exhausted, frustrated and completely unorganized. After literally sprinting down the street to get my boarding passes printed in time I tore apart my room in a unsuccessful attempt to find my earbuds. With the clock ticking I abandoned the search and made my way to the travel agency I usually get my train tickets from to see if I could even make it to Pisa in time.

I did.

After landing in freezing cold Charleroi I found the city shuttle bus that would take me to the Midi station in Brussels. After a 45-minute ride I found myself cold, confused and in desperate need of a ladies room. After running all over the hell like a crazy lady the fine people at the Hagen-Daz pointed me in the right direction. I finally found the CO-ED bathroom (yikes) and for .50 euro I managed not to pee my pants. Thank goodness.

I took a cab to the Le Meridian, which my kind and loving mother and generously booked for me with her Starwood points. After checking in I tested the comfort of my king sized bed and the speed of the internet. Later I went out to find myself a waffle and some Subway. (Eat Fresh!)

Not sure what the name is. Not my Palace. Not my Problem.

After way too many cups of tea I tossed and turned practically all night, which is why I ended up bagging my side trip to Amsterdam. I decided that fours hours on a train plus the inevitable dent in my wallet wasn't worth the few hours I would get to spend in the city. I will just have to check out Anne Frank's house and the Red Light district later in life.

After sleeping in 'til 9:30 I finally got moving and bundled up for some sightseeing in Brussels. With the help of my handy map that I snagged at the Charleroi airport I wandered the streets stopping at whatever caught my eye. I was very excited to stumble upon a Christmas fair, but then I was less than impressed with the wares being peddled in the little wooden booths. After a ham and cheese crepe and a styrafoam cup of hot wine I was ready to move on.

I found all sorts of overpriced chocolate shops, a beautiful cathedral and lots of statues of little boys gleefully taking a leak. Fianlly I came across the original which was swarming with Asian tourists armed with digital camera and peace signs.

For a mere 250 euro one of them can be yours!

The original. Not sure what all the fuss was about?

I made my way up to a park that was truthfully nothing special but I managed to get someone to take a picture of me. After that I succumbed to the cold and walked back to my hotel to warm up, watch a movie (The Blind Side) and then call it an early night complete with room service.





The next morning I was up early. I checked out of the hotel and took a train from the Central station to the Midi station where I boarded my bus and headed back to Charleroi. After securing a seat in the exit row I inflated my neck pillow, put on my headphones (which I found in my laptop case) and fell asleep to the soothing beats of my "Mellow Mix" playlist.

Barcelona

     Sometimes the deals on Ryan Air are just too cheap to pass up, which is why my roommates and I decided we should spend two nights in Barcelona, thus making it my eighth consecutive weekend traveling.

On Thursday we departed Florence via the Santa Maria Novella Station, where we took the slow train to Pisa. Ninety minutes later we checked in, cleared security and anxiously awaited our flight to Girona.

After a short sleepless flight we arrived in Girona which is approximately an hour and 15 minutes outside of the Barcelona city center. A company called Barcelona Bus operates a frequent route between the Girona airport and the city center for the cost of 12 euro one-way, or  21 euro round trip which is obviously what we chose.  Upon arriving at the depot we each bought a two-day metro pass from the tourist info stand. I have to say even though I find almost all modes of public transportation to be completely questionable I was very impressed with the Barcelona metro system. The routes were simple color-coded lines with easy to see stops and transfer points and the metros themselves were clean and fast. Thumbs up Barcelona public transportation!

Countdown to the arrival of the next train.

Once we found the Blue hostel we got settled and decided to rent some bikes to explore the city. After pedaling around for an hour or so we stopped near the marina for a delicious four course paella lunch. For 10 euro we each got a helping of bread and chicken soup, a starter course, a huge second course, dessert, drink and some kind of peach flavored liquor. Completely stuffed we got back on our bikes and headed along the beach back to the hostel for an authentic Spanish siesta.

Lunch time

The W Hotel in the background. 

After our snooze we were still stuffed so we decided to forgo dinner and check out the Barcelona's famous nightlife on empty stomachs. A friend of mine from WSU had recommended the Chupitos bars as a fun and inexpensive place to start out the night. After a few “Harry Potters” and “Cub Scouts” we were feeling good and making buds. Some of the shots at the Chupitos bars are very interactive and include some interesting “props.” Order the Monika Lewinsky for a friend and you will know what I am talking about.

"Harry Potters"

Decisions, Decisions....

After the Chupitos bar we cabbed it to a row of clubs closer to where we had eaten lunch earlier in the day and after more drinks and lots of bad dancing we finally called it a night and headed back to the hostel.  I'm really not sure how anyone could study abroad in Barcelona with the combination of sunny beaches and the outrageous nightlife.

The next day we were a bit slow getting up and about. After walking to the statue of Christopher Columbus we headed along the Marina to what ended up being a giant shopping mall. After perusing a few stores and some interesting Christmas displays we decided we were ready for lunch so we ventured downtown to Rosa Negra for some highly anticipated Mexican food. After our nachos and burritos we felt another siesta was necessary.

Apparently this is Barcelona's idea of Christmas Cheer

Finally feeling refreshed we set out again to tour the shopping areas and explore some of the little side streets. Later we set our sights on an Irish pub for a quick dinner and a beer. Since the following day would be our last we called it an early night by Spanish standard, midnight that is.

Getting emo with the graffiti 

We checked out of the hostel at 11:00 the next morning and locked up our backpacks up at the reception. When we got to the metro I was peeved to discover that our metro passes had expired before the 48 hours were up. Not cool. After buying individual tickets for 1.40 euro a pop we headed to Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia only to be more peeved. Not only was it pouring down rain at this point the entrance fee was 12 euro (we were all broke) and the stupid thing isn’t even completed! It’s completely covered in scaffolding and surrounded by cranes! Supposedly the cathedral is meant to 'always' be under construction so every time someone comes to visit it there is something new to been seen but I thought it was overpriced and messy looking. Aside from Paris pretty much every noteworthy European monument I have gone to visit has been in some way tainted by construction. There is scaffolding on the Duomo, the Pantheon, the Rosslyn Chapel and St. Marks! I am sick of scaffolding!

After unanimously agreeing that we were all too poor and annoyed to pay the 12 euro we went to the nearest American friendly establishments to pout: Subway and Starbucks. After a six inch meatball marinara and a hot chocolate we took the metro back to the Drassanes stop and continued our walking /shopping tour of Barcelona. After my roommates found a few souvenirs we came upon Barcelona’s equivalent of the mercato central. After a quick walk through and a few pictures we continued along Las Ramblas and at 3:30 we headed back to the hostel to collect our bags.

We took the metro to the bus depot only to learn that we had missed the 4:05 bus by a few minutes and the next one wouldn’t be leaving for Girona until 5:30! We figured that even if the bus got us to the airport right on time, five minutes to check-in and clear security wasn't going to be enough. So we bit the bullet and took a cab all 64 miles. It worked out to be about 35 euro each, which sucked, but hey it could have been worse.

After a snooze in the cab we made our 7:25 flight, took the train from Pisa and arrived in Florence around 11:30pm. Of course some celebratory kebabs were in order.

Kebabs = Yum

A Sensational Weekend in Copenhagen

    Getting to Copenhagen was not as bad as I had anticipated. I took the last train of the day to Rome and spent the night in the PopInn hostel since my flight from the Ciampino airport was departing to Billund, Denmark at 7:35am. The hostel itself was nothing glamourous but after my experience in Scotland I decided I should lower my hostel standards so I would avoid being surprised in the future. That being said I have to give the PopInn hostel credit. The sheets were clean, the staff was friendly, my all female room was inexpensive, the wifi was only one euro per hour and the walk from the train station took all of 90 seconds. Plus the reception was open 24-hours so I had no problem checking out at 4:30am and the airport shuttle picked me up right in front of the hostel.

After boarding another Ryan Air flight I went about reclaiming some lost sleep and woke up a few hours later as we made a very dicey decent into the Billund airport. This was when things got a little hairy. After extensive Googling I knew that I needed to take the 244 or 907x bus to the Vijle train station….but after about an hour of standing in the freezing cold I began to realize that a) I had done a really terrible job packing and b) the buses weren’t coming as scheduled. Finally a friendly couple (I found almost all Danish people to be very friendly and helpful) offered to split a cab with me to Vejile. 150 Kronor later I was at the station and 156 kronor after that I was on the train headed to Copenhagen. There were only two things I disliked about Denmark. Number one: Their currency is the all-time "funny money." The size of the coins bears no relevance to the worth, some even have holes in the center and the exchange rate was anything but in my favor. Secondly, their language. Apparently Danish is the second hardest to learn after Chinese. 

I arrived in Copenhagen a little after 2:30 and immediately craved a baked potato from the stand outside of the train station called Mr. Potato (In Danish of course) After my 45 kronor lunch (about 6 euro) I figured I should take a cab to the hotel since I couldn’t seen to find a map at the train station. When I got out of the taxi I realized it was time to buy a thick sweater and some gloves to combat the cold. Brrrr!

Top 3 Best Baked Potatoes EVER.

I met up with my friend and her travel accomplice at the hotel. After checking into our room and getting settled we decided we should walk around and find some dinner and then call it an early night. We ended up going to a Vitnamese restuaurnt, which initally I had my reservations about. (I still haven’t forgotten about the Chinese food catastrophe in Munich) However I must say my first experience with Pho was pho-tastic. For those of you who are unfamiliar or leery about pho, it’s basically a gourmet top ramen, and you can add all the hot sauce you want. No judgement. After dinner we went back to the hotel and fell asleep to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

The following day we got up and headed out to sightsee in Copenhagen. Being there reminded me of Edinburgh a little bit and it just seemed like a cool place to live. Plus everyone rides bikes, which I think is awesome. However I was a bit annoyed after the recent theft of my own bike in Florence to see that not all the bikes were locked up. There was a sea of bicycles at the train station, half of which I would guess were free for the taking, literally. Too bad I couldn’t take one back to Florence with me.

Don't walk in the bike lane!

After strolling around for a while we found a really cool church that had a tower that could be climbed for only 25 kronor. After a zillion stairs we finally reached the top and the reward was a fantastic view of the city. (The wind made it a little scary though) Afterward we made our way back to the hotel and started to get ready for Sensation White.

Climbing up inside the tower

That's my new sweater. Very Danish right?

I’m not sure how to describe Sensation White. For those of you who don't know, it’s essentially a rave but instead of being at some sketchy warehouse it’s at a huge stadium and everyone has to wear white. Roughly 35,000 people just rocked out to house music (a sub-genre of techno) for eight hours straight. Eric Pyrdz, the DJ responsible for the uber popular “Call On Me” song played a hour set along with other famous DJ’s like Chuckie and Mr. White himself. This guy:

Getting my dance on. Note the snap fingers.

Of course no event like this could go on without a wide variety of bizarre people and circumtances. The outfits some people had on were pretty interesting. Everything from navy officers, the NYPD, classy guys in suits and ties, the shirtless Scandinavian version of guidos (jacked, tan and arrogant) Girls with hardly any clothes at all, people in bunny suits, polar bear costumes and then there was just a bunch of creepy people wearing white masks and hazmat suits. I opted to make use of the white jeggings I bought at Zara in August and a $5 Forever 21 V-neck. Both items along with some fake keds I scored in Florence wound up in the trash the next morning. 

A little after 3am the lights came on and everyone made their way out of the stadium. After a mere hour and 15 minute walk we finally made it back to our hotel and passed out around 5:00am, only to wake up at 9:45 and get ready to leave. Initally I had booked my return flight out of Billund but the only trains available were at 2:30am and 6:40am. Not happening. I ended up bagging the Billund flight and booked a Climber Air flight from Copenhagen to Rome, which would have been perfect if it hadn’t been delayed for over an hour!

Finally I arrived back in Rome and took the train to Roma termini. Unfortunately the last train to Florence on Sunday night was at 8:30, which was about the same time I was getting off the plane. Of course I was annoyed and exhausted at this point but I kept my cool bought a train ticket for 8:45 the next moring. I made the short walk back to the PopInn hostel hoping to score a bed for the night. Naturally all the dorms were booked so I wound up in this room….the lovers suite. Perfect.

Circular bed, black sheets and a heart shaped chair. Sweet dreams!