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this is my more active blog.  follow :)

auteurstheories asked: I must say I love your posts about your time abroad. I was also abroad from Aug 20009 - Dec 2009. Our paths probably crossed at some point; I went to Paris, Florence, and Copenhagen as well. But I was studying in London. Do you have more pictures to share?

I do but it’s going to take me a while with school starting up.  I do plan on starting a Flickr in the near future though :D

A Weekend in Pisa, Lucca, Florence & Bologna, Italy

Day 0: Thursday, October 29, 2009
    At this point in the semester, autumn had begun to turn the trees of the Kasteel grounds vibrant shades of gold, orange, and red.  While many of my friends opted to travel to bigger cities like London or Berlin this weekend (after all, it was Halloween), Erin and I decided to have a quiet weekend (we dubbed it our “honeymoon weekend”) exploring the middle of Italy: the Umbrian and Tuscan regions.  We took a late-afternoon cab from Kasteel Well to Airport Weeze, and caught our RyanAir flight to Pisa, Italy, which landed just as I was snapping some beautiful sunset shots over the wing.  Unlike most RyanAir flights, we landed at the main airport for central Italy, although we still had to take a shuttle bus from the airport to the city centre.  The bus left us at Pisa Centrale, the main train station for the little city (which, to be honest, wasn’t the kindest looking place even in the early evening).  Lucky for us, we knew that our hotel (the Antonella Bed & Breakfast) was just around the corner from the train station—we just didn’t know which corner.  No luck from looking behind corner one, two, three, or four…but finally on our last try we found it, and we were surprised to see how well-appointed it was for the price we paid.  Even though it was about 9 pm, Erin and I—being the intrepid travelers that we are—grabbed a city map from the reception desk and went out exploring.  Pisa was fairly shut down for the night, but we managed to find a late-night Panineria, a riverside chapel, a dramatic stone archway that serves as the entrance to a cinema (of all things!), a pizzeria that served Duff Beer, and even managed to get our hands on some gelato.  By 11 pm, we were walking along the banks of the Arno River, which winds its way through the center of the city.  Basking in the yellow glow of the street lamps, we decided to head back to the hotel for a good nights’ sleep—and, of course, to play with the bidet and watch “Scrubs” in Italian.

Day 1: Friday, October 30, 2009
    We woke up early and feasted on the free breakfast that the hotel provided; in that half hour, newly discovered Italian breakfast foods became morsels that now my stomach can only yearn for.  After breakfast, we set out along the same streets that we had scoured the previous night while searching for our hotel—in the morning sunlight they appeared much less menacing.  We let our feet guide us with no particular route in mind, and they led us to the Cittadella Nuova, a large fortification on the banks of the Arno River.  From the outside, it still looks like a citadel—foreboding and impenetrable—but on the inside, the city of Pisa has transformed it into a city park with manicured gardens and a piazza that seems to be used for summer concerts.  The citadel has a breezeway along the top of its fortifications with hundreds of open-air arches that provided a stunning backdrop for a photo op, of which Erin and I took full advantage.  After finding our way out of the citadel, we took a left along the Arno back towards the center of the city.  We crossed over the Arno via the Ponte di Mezzo, and came upon the central artery of the city—a long shopping street hosting a mid-morning market of the freshest, most colorful vegetables I’ve ever seen.  Continuing on our way, we came to the Piazza dei Cavalieri (Knights’ Square), the second main square of the city and the political center of medieval Pisa.  Nowadays it is a center of education, housing the Scuola Normale di Pisa, an institution of higher learning established in 1810.  A short walk further on Via Santa Maria brought us to the place that everyone wants to see when in Pisa: the Piazza Duomo and Il Torre di Pisa—the Leaning Tower.  We spent quite a while exploring the Duomo, the Battistero di San Giovanni, and of course taking the quintessential holding-up-the-Leaning-Tower-with-one-hand pictures.  Although there were probably many more hidden squares and gardens to be seen in Pisa, the musician in me was drawing me to Lucca, Italy, the birthplace of Giacomo Puccini, only a half-hour train ride from Pisa.  Erin and I headed back to Pisa Centrale and boarded the next train to Lucca (which was late, of course—it is Italy, after all).  Upon arrival, we found that Lucca was a pristinely preserved medieval walled city, a place that is unfortunately overlooked by most travelers to Italy.  After entering the city through its eight-foot thick walls, we found our way to the central square, the crown jewel of which was a small, but elaborately beautiful Duomo.  We continued on to our final destination, pausing along the way at Piazza Napoleone, which had been transformed into the hub of a comic book convention in the tiny city.  Making our way through the hordes of crazily costumed comic kids, we came to the San Michele in Foro, a Roman Catholic Basilica built over the former Roman forum in the center of the city.  This beautiful basilica was the final landmark on our trek to Puccini’s birthplace, since its front doors pointed straight down the side street to his home.  Unfortunately, when we arrived we found that the Museo Puccini was closed, but I was content merely to be in the presence of his birthplace.  There is a small square next to his home, with a statue of him seated in the center—of course, Erin made me sit on his lap and take pictures, but I’m glad she did.  Afterwards, we ate at the Osteria Tosca, a restaurant named after his fifth opera Tosca, one of the most widely-performed operas in the world today.  There, Erin and I ate a simple afternoon meal of bread, mineral water, and possibly the most incredible gnocchi I’ve ever tasted.  Across the way, the Cinema Centrale was playing Julie & Julia and Up.  On the way back to the Lucca train station, we found a street market with local crafts, cheeses, and wines.  We had to wait a while for a train, but we finally caught an early evening train direct to Florence.  The ride was just over an hour and a half, straight through the stunning mountains of Umbria and Tuscany.  Our train pulled into Florence about an hour after sunset, but the sky was still a light, creamy periwinkle color.  After getting our bearings, we set off towards our lodging, the Academy Hostel, one of the best of the semester.  The center of Florence is the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, and our hostel was hardly a hop skip and jump from its steps.  Aside from a quick trip into town for some gelato, we spent the rest of our night settling in to our hostel, eating the free food, drinking the free wine, and socializing with fellow travelers, two of which went to UVA and had mutual friends with Erin—small world, huh?

Day 2: Saturday, October 31, 2009
    We woke up early for our Florentine Halloween—it was a full day.  Erin and I spent the majority of our morning at the Galleria degli Uffizi, or the Uffizi Gallery as it is known in English.  The gallery was built in 1581, adjacent to the Medici Palace and overlooking the Arno River and the well-known Ponte Vecchio.  It boasts an immaculate collection, specializing in the 1200s-1800s, including pieces by Michelangelo, da Vinci, Titian, Verrocchio, and famous works such as Caravaggio’s “Medusa” and Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus.”  After exhausting the Uffizi’s offerings, we made our way to the nearby Ponte Vecchio and explored the shops that seemingly teeter on the edge of this historic bridge.  By this point in the day, it was time for lunch, and Erin was hot on the trail of a Florentine delicacy: tripe.  Essentially, tripe is salted cow stomach on foccacia doused in olive oil and basil.  It was a leap of faith—a bit chewy, but very tasty.  We meandered through the beautiful streets and found our way to the Piazza della Repubblica and finished our tripe at the base of the tall column in the center of the square, which marks the intersection of two main roads that date from the Roman period.  As the cow stomach was digesting in our stomachs, we decided to visit the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, the geographical, cultural, and religious epicenter of Florence.  I must admit that, juxtaposed against the intricate beauty of the exterior facade, the interior of the Basilica is a bit of a letdown.  It’s still beautiful of course, but very stark and simplistic compared to the exterior; the exception is the inner walls of the dome, adorned by Vasari’s and Zuccari’s stunning frescoes that depict The Last Judgement.  Something else that piqued my interest in the Duomo  is the crypt that lies below the main floor—unfortunately, the gift shop is also down there, which dilutes the atmosphere.  So what does one do to take a break from sightseeing in Florence?  Get gelato, of course.  Hazelnut and pear from Grom should do the trick.  After an unsuccessful attempt to meet up with some friends at the Accademia di Bella Arti (where The David is housed) the majority of our afternoon had been spent.  We rushed to the opposite side of the Arno River—managing to pick up three bottles of wine for 10 Euro—and made the long, uphill trek to the Piazzale Michelangelo, which has to be one of the most picturesque vistas in all of Europe, if not the entire world.  Any guidebook will tell you that watching a sunset here is a must-do when in Florence, and I can’t agree more.  Spending the remaining hours of our evening with good conversation, good (and cheap) wine, and the most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen—well, let’s just say I’ll never forget it.

Day 3: Sunday, November 01, 2009
    Waking up this morning was bitter sweet—not only did today mark the beginning of November, meaning that we were almost halfway through our semester abroad, but we also knew that this would be our last morning in the fairytale city of Florence.  Not deterred, however, we decided to peruse a local street market with fine leather goods and other Florentine fashions.  We also managed to find one of my favorite stores in Europe—a family run butchery, complete with a boar’s head hanging adjacent to the doorframe, a plethora of cheeses laid out for sampling, and cuts of meat hanging from every inch of the ceiling.  Down the street was another establishment that was aptly named “Very Good!”…there’s something to be said for succinct marketing tactics, I suppose.  There was only an hour left before catching our bullet train to Bologna, Italy, and we spent it basking in the afternoon sun, taking in the beautiful architecture of Florence’s streets.  The train ride was smooth, and as we cut north through the rolling, green-amber hills of Umbria, the rocking of the traincar and the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows lulled us both to sleep.  We awoke from our nap and arrived in Bologna right on time, ready to take full advantage of the few hours that we had to explore the city.  Bologna is often credited as the culinary capital of Italy, but there is more to Bologna than its’ famous bologna—in fact it was named European Capital of Culture for the year 2000.  As we made our way from the train station to the center of town, we walked in the shelter of the city’s famed porticos—in the city centre alone, there are over 38 kilometers worth of these covered walkways.  The city is also home to the oldest university in the Western world—the University of Bologna, founded in 1088.  Dominating the city’s Piazza Maggiore is the Basilica of San Petronio, the fifth largest church in the world.  When the Basilica was under construction, architects planned for it to be even larger and more majestic than Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome, but when the Pope Pius IV heard tell of this rumor, he halted the project.  To this day, the facade of the Basilica has not been completed.  Although many may feel that the uncompleted portion of the facade is an eyesore, I see it as a fascinating historical and architectural peculiarity that augments the quirkiness of the city.  Another similar peculiarity is Bologna’s iconic Two Towers, two surviving examples of the 80-100 towers that once crowded Bologna’s medieval skyline.  Very little documentation exists about why exactly so many towers were built, but they sure are a sight to see.  Before heading to the airport, we stumbled upon a outdoor exhibit of modern art.  There were hundreds of flowers hanging from the sky (literally), sculptural elements made of steel rods, and stone couch sculptures to sit on and ponder the meaning of the exhibit.  To tell the truth, I couldn’t tell you what the artist was trying to convey.  And with that, as the moon rose slowly over Bologna’s Two Towers, Erin and I flew home to the Netherlands.

A Weekend in Interlaken, Switzerland

Day 0: Thursday, October 22, 2009
This weekend I was traveling with Brett, Erin, Rachel, Eric, Hallie, and Kristen, like the weekend before.  After classes ended on Thursday afternoon, we caught the bus to Venlo and then a train to Dusseldorf Hauptbahnhof, where we caught our international train: a CityNightLine overnight to Bern, Switzerland.  Tonight was fairly uneventful, save to say that when our international train arrived at the platform we realized that we were waiting at the wrong part of the platform, so we began to walk down the platform to the correct part of the train.  On our way, we heard the conductor’s whistle and realized the train was about to depart.  We scrambled onboard just as it began to pull away from the station.  Here’s the moral of this story, dear reader: when the train comes, get on it as fast as you can and find where you’re supposed to be later, because the train WILL leave.  We settled into our seats, which were shaped a bit like space capsules, studied for a bit (midterms were the following week) and fell asleep.

Day 1: Friday, October 23, 2009
Bern is a major city in Switzerland, so it has quite a few train stations.  And since it was about 6 in the morning and we were all groggy after a night of train-sleep, we accidentally got off one stop too early.  With the bitter cold of the early Swiss morning slapping us in the face, we quickly went inside the station to figure out when the next train to Interlaken would be coming.  Luckily, we only had to wait about 20 minutes.  On the train, most of us fell back to sleep, but I stayed up to watch the stunning Swiss landscape unfold from misty world outside our train.  Arriving at Interlaken Ost station was like stepping into a fairytale; the mighty Alps towered high above the brightly colored and ornamented Swiss chalets, which were homes to dozens of little shops, many of which were just opening up for the day’s business of chocolate-selling.  We went to our hostel to drop off our bags and stop off for a potty break, and found a lovely cafe just down the street to get an early lunch.  We then set out to explore the town.  Every street looked more perfect than the next: cheerful chalets, cheese carts, giant croissant sculptures to take funny pictures with, and canals with water so turquoise you’d swear it was either candy or you were tripping on acid.  Not that I would know, but, anyway that’s how blue it was.  And of course we had to touch it, so we went down to the edge of the water and stuck our hands in: freezing, of course.  And some killer swans started to come a wee bit too close for comfort, so we moved on.  After finding a charming medieval church (whose bells began to chime just as we discovered it!), we wanted to go to the lakes.  After all, Interlaken literally means “between the lakes.”  It was a failed attempt.  We walked for miles, way out of town—and it had begun to rain.  After passing too many cows and goats, we decided to head back for fear of imminent trenchfoot.  We got back to the hostel, checked in, and dried ourselves out in our rooms, which were all very nice (too bad we think we all got bedbugs there…womp).  We went down to the restaurant in the lobby and each got a glass of a delicious Swiss apple cider drink.  It had been a long day already and we were all determined to have an equally long night, so we napped for a few hours.  When we woke up, we got primped and pruned, grabbed a bite of dinner in town and then headed to Balmer’s—a huge backpacker’s hostel on the other side of town.  It has a club that’s apparently one of the happenin’ spots in Interlaken, so we had to check it out.  It was a long, fun night of dancing, drinks, and friends, and we slept soundly for the adventures that awaited the next day.

Saturday, October 24, 2009
Happy birthday to Brett!  Today was his 19th birthday, and to celebrate he, Erin, and I all went paragliding over the Alps.  We met with our guides behind Hooters (sketchy, right?  Not really…nothing is sketchy in Switzerland) and got our safety briefing and special flying boots.  We then hopped in an unmarked white van (still not sketchy, I promise) and drove up to our launch site with our guides.  My guide was named Pitsch, pronounced “peach”…gotta love it.  From the top, we could see rolling, verdant farmlands—dotted with farmhouse chalets—giving way to the blue and white majestic Alpine peaks that surround Interlaken.  Also, we were freaking PUMPED to be jumping off a mountain!  The company only advertises a 12-15 minute flight time from launch to landing, but because we went in the morning there were plenty of updrafts in and around the mountains, and each of us got about a 25 minute flight.  One of the best half hours of my life.  After landing in the center of town, the three of us were on such an adrenaline high that we couldn’t stand still, and we bounced back to the hostel to get ready for our next adventure.  This time, it was just me and Erin.  After lunch, we took a series of trains, cog railways, and cable cars.  Our destination?  Schilthorn: one of the highest peaks in the Alps, and the location where they filmed a portion of the James Bond film “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.”  The view from the top was unreal: mountains and snow as far as the eye could see.  We took our time enjoying the view, and bought a dark chocolate Toblerone.  On our way down, we stopped off in Murren, one of the tiny Swiss villages halfway up the mountain that is a cable car stopover.  It was the quintessential Bavarian village: no cars, all-wooden chalets, and old-school window advertisements (in German, of course).  It was somewhere in Murren that I decided if I moved to Europe, it would be to Switzerland.  Maybe the altitude was making me irrational, but you’d have to see this place to believe it really exists; pictures can’t even do it justice.  It was practically nightfall when we got back to the hostel.  Erin and I met up with the rest of the group and grabbed dinner at a family-run Doner Kebab place near the train station that we all adored, and then headed back to Balmer’s for another long, but great night.

Day 3:  Sunday, October 25, 2009
We were still determined to see the lakes.  Even under clear skies, we knew better than to try to walk it again.  So we made use of Switzerland’s excellent bus system, and took the route that brought us to the edge of Lake Brienz.  The lake was stunning, and the water was so crystal clear that we were all tempted to drink it.  And drink we did.  Hallie even filled up her mug that she’d brought along.  It was the best water I’ve ever tasted, and it came straight out of a lake.  Nature: 1, Brita: 0.  We walked along the lakeside, enjoying eachother’s company and stopping to smell the Christmas (pine trees—they were quite fragrant) on our way.  After the obligatory photo shoot, we headed back to town for a lunch of traditional cheese fondue.  It was mediocre and overpriced, but it was the experience that counts, right?  We spent much of the afternoon shopping for trinkets, writing postcards, and exploring more of the town that we hadn’t seen before.  In the afternoon, we boarded our beautiful German InterCity Express train back to Holland.  As midterms started the following morning, we all stayed up well into the night to study, finally getting some sleep at 4 am, as the train sped us back to school at 200 km/hour.  Midterms are a necessary evil, but Interlaken provided an excellent way to ease the blow.

A Weekend in Barcelona, Spain

Day 1: Friday, October 16, 2009
For a variety of reasons—well, actually, two reasons: a required World Drama performance in Utrecht and a cheaper flight on RyanAir—my weekend in Barcelona was shorter than most; instead of leaving late Thursday, we (me, Brett, Erin, Rachel, Iman and Eric) had a leisurely mid-day flight on Friday.  The flight was uneventful excluding some beautiful scenery seen from the air, and we landed at Girona Airport at the beginning of siesta.  We caught a transfer bus from the airport to the city center (about an hour’s ride) and we all caught some Z’s in the warm, balmy sunlight that permeated the bus windows.  Upon arrival at the bus terminal, Iman helped us find our way since she knows a bit of Spanish.  Still, there was a bit of a language barrier with the Spanish-Catalunyan translation.  We ended up taking a left out of the station when we meant to go straight, but it was one of the most gorgeous detours imaginable.  Even weighed down with our luggage, we found ourselves strolling through a city park that Gaudi himself had designed, filled with beautiful fountains, a forum-like structure, and even an elephant (not alive, of course, just a sculpture).  After unsuccessfully asking a few locals for directions, we got our bearings and made our way to the hostel, Itaca Hostel, in the Gothic Quarter, passing Barcelona’s own Arc de Triomphe along the way.  We arrived at the hostel and checked in.  And to our surprise, when we opened the door to our room, Kristen and Hallie were already in the room!  They had come from Brussels and we were all happy to see familiar faces.  We caught up and relaxed in the room for the remainder of siesta, and later on went out to explore Las Ramblas, the main commercial street in Barcelona.  We happened upon an amazing street market, the Mercado de San Jose, with everything you could ever want to eat, fresher than you’ve ever seen it.  And cheap, too!—two smoothies for a Euro, all featuring crisp, fruity flavors—we were definitely in Barcelona.  After exhausting the market, we walked a ways and finally sat down at a sidewalk restaurant to get sangria.  With a 9 Euro price tag, I decided to pass, but when the drinks were delivered, I wish I hadn’t.  They were literally half-gallons of sangria, served in an oversized wine glass about the size of a classroom globe.  Needless to say, I stole a few sips here and there!  Afterwards, we went to a different restaurant for a traditional late dinner of delicious seafood paella (writing this now I honestly have no idea why we didn’t just stay where we were, but oh well).  We were pretty full and lethargic by this point so we explored Las Ramblas a bit more and headed home to sleep a deep, paella and sangria induced slumber.

Day 2: Saturday, October 17th, 2009
Today, we started the day off with the hostel’s surprisingly good breakfast, and I had my first taste of Muesli, an amazing European cereal.  Not only did today mark the beginning of my obsessive infatuation with this delectable breakfast item, but it was also the monthiversary of my departure for Europe—looking back, it’s incredible how much ground we were able to cover in a month, and the two and a half months after this point.  Today, I was on the hunt for Gaudi—a wonderful Spanish architect whose gems can be found scattered around the city.  First, we made the long trek to the Sagrada Famiglia, which has been under construction for 200+ years (and it ain’t gonna be finished anytime soon, folks).  What trip to Barcelona would be complete without visiting this truly astonishing landmark?  After Rachel and Eric finished their unavoidable photo shoot, we walked to Casa Battlo, a Gaudi house that was designed to look like a dragon—and in fact, it really does if you look at the details.  After this, we made another wrong turn (my fault this time) and started heading straight out of town.  We realized this quickly, however, and turned ourselves around.  First, though, we managed to find a hole in the wall churreria, where we sampled tiss quintessential Spanish treat.  After this, a lot of us went our separate ways, but some of us decided to go to the Picasso Museum.  On the way, we found ourselves in a…well, let’s just say it could have been a questionable location, although it didn’t appear to be on first glance.  It was something like a plaza (but not paved—just reddish sand) that seemed to be a community hub for all the buildings that surrounded it.  It was much like an inner-city enclave, detached from the traffic-laden thoroughfares.  It was a near-surreal experience, there was a large bonfire burning in the middle of the day, and hand-painted banners hung from the windows proclaiming “Freedom!” for something or other in Catalunyan.  And all this was just a 5 or so minute walk from the Picasso Museum.  The museum was really fantastic, an incredible collection of Picasso’s works, from the early days right up until the end.  Picasso himself spent quite a few years in Barcelona, so it’s a perfect place for a museum of this magnitude.  The building in which the museum is housed is a sight to see in and of itself, so it’s well worth the admission price.  After spending a good couple hours at the museum, Rachel, Erin and I decided to make the hike all the way up to the northern end of Las Ramblas (mostly so I could try to buy a jacket that I should’ve bought in Paris at a store called Celio, but that’s beside the point).  After that failed attempt at clothes hunting, we meandered through the park at the top of Las Ramblas—the Placa Catalunya—and Erin found a heavily wounded (e.g. dead) pigeon to stand over and take pictures of for a good 5 minutes while Rachel and I awkwardly stood far enough away so that we wouldn’t immediately be associated with her by any random passerby.  By this point, it was the height of siesta, and in true Spanish form, we decided to head back to Itaca and take a nap.  After all, it was Saturday, and in Barcelona that means club night.  Well, in Barcelona every night is club night, but just go with me here.  After our nap, I’m sure we must’ve eaten but I don’t remember so I’m just gonna fast forward to the exciting part.  We started off easy, choosing a lovely outdoor bar in a plaza just off Las Ramblas and ordered a round of tequila.  Or maybe the mojitos and Sex on the Beaches were first.  Well, I guess the order isn’t important, just the happy feeling we got from all these lovely concoctions.  Hawkers came by, offering roses, etc, but one drew a caricature of Eric that was absolutely hilarious (I hope he framed it).  After getting “happy” enough, we went to a club.  We chose the one we did because it was free, and I guess you get what you pay for.  The club itself was pretty cool, but over half the crowd was in the 25-35 range and that killed a bit of the vibe.  I’m sure we must’ve done more, but all I can really remember was barging into a convenience store 5 minutes before it closed and ordering pizzas with Kristen.  Clearly, I was feeling really happy.  The pizzas were delicious, by the way.

Day 3: Sunday, October 18, 2009
I know you’ve been reading for a while, and since you’ve made it this far I extend to you a congratulations of Magna Cum Laude proportions, but stay tuned because I promise today’s antics won’t let you down.  Today, we went to the Mediterranean.  The balmy and breezy walk to the sea offered us palm-lined boulevards, beautiful Spanish architecture, stimulating sculptures, live street music, and a few yachts in the harbor (don’t worry, I called dibs on the best one).  But truly, the piece de resistance was laying eyes on the azure waters and saturated sands of this Mediterranean beach.  To our right, the stunning new W Hotel towering over the water; to our left, the Pyrenees Mountains curling around the periphery; and straight ahead, the sea and sky vying for the horizon’s affection.  But enough of being rendered incapacitated because of unfathomable earthly beauty, let’s go swimming!  And swim we did, even though the water was freezing.  We didn’t really have many other options, though, because to lie in a lounge chair cost 5 Euro.  Oh, and by the way, I wore a speedo.  Well, not exactly a speedo, they’re technically “swimming briefs” and I thought they looked pretty damn good except that I was so freaking cold.  But hey, that’s what they do in Europe, so…when in Rome, right?  The whole speedo experience was exhilarating alright, but after freezing myself half to death I put my clothes back on and took a walk down the beach, seeing some really incredible sand sculptures along the way.  After we all felt that we had paid adequate homage to the Mediterranean, we grabbed lunch, all the while the sea salt drying on our skin.  As it was our last meal in Barcelona, sangria and seafood paella was ordered by all, and I tried fried calamari (a first for me) and loved it!  This beachside lunch was a wonderful way to end the weekend.  After paying the bill, we sauntered back to the hostel to catch our bus to the airport.  As we were emptying the sand out of unknown orifices, Erin comes into the bathroom with some bad news.  Our flight doesn’t leave at 7 like we thought; it leaves at 5:45.  Hoooly crap.  We all kicked it into high gear and threw our keys at the receptionist as we bid farewell to our hostel and the sunny Gothic Quarter.   We had to take the Metro to the bus station, and with only one transfer we didn’t think it would be that bad.  Little did we know that that transfer required entirely exiting that station and following a yellow dotted line along the sidewalk for 4 or 5 blocks, and reentering at the next station.  Barcelona’s Metro was officially on the shit list.  We sprinted along the yellow line, which was mostly faded and hard to follow.  Half of us lost our tickets and had to buy new ones to reenter the Metro.  It was a mess.  We arrived at the bus station to find out that the next bus wouldn’t get us to the airport in time to make our flight.  A taxi was our only option, and keep in mind this airport was over an hour away.  But of course, the taxis would only hold 4 people and we had 6, so we split up 3 and 3; I was with Iman and Rachel.  Our cab fare was 140 Euro; the other cab paid 185.  We made the flight, and were unsure whether Erin, Brett and Eric would make it.  Once we got onboard, I desperately asked the flight attendant how long we had until the gate would be closed.  She said they decided to close the gate whenever they felt like it.  Thank you RyanAir for being the most ridiculous airline in existence.  The three of us waited nervously.  After about 10 minutes, we saw Eric board the plane, and with the light streaming in behind him it seemed almost angelic.  It was probably just how ecstatic we were that half our group wouldn’t be left behind somewhere in northeastern Spain.  After that monstrosity, we all passed out before our plane even left the tarmac.  All’s well that ends well, and it certainly makes for a good story.

A Weekend in Paris, France

Day 0:  Thursday, October 8th, 2009
After Brett was freed from his Thursday afternoon class, the pair of us made our way to Venlo train station with ease (we were pretty good at it by that point).  We were a little confused as to which train was going to Rotterdam, but we trusted in the Netherlands train system (smart? maybe not) and boarded the one we thought was correct.  It was, and we pulled into Rotterdam ahead of schedule.  We had a fairly long layover for a train (about an hour and a half) before our Thalys bullet train left for Paris, so we decided to explore the city of Rotterdam for a bit.  It was the late afternoon, and surprisingly much of the city was shut down.  But that was okay, because there’s not much to Rotterdam except shopping and some really cool architecture—the rest of it is pretty sketchy.  It was fun to have a little while to explore someplace we normally wouldn’t have visited, though.  On our way back to the train station, we got a croquet from the wall-food place and then boarded the Thalys.  Since we made our reservations at different times, we were in separate cars on the train, and Brett accidentally ended up in 1st class without realizing it!  Before the conductor came around to check tickets, he managed to get a Coke and free wifi that lasted him for the rest of the ride even after he was moved to second class—lucky duck.  We got into Paris Nord station on time and walking out of the station we were greeted with a sight that was perfectly Parisian: uplit neoclassical buildings with French advertisements tastefully strewn across their facades.  This was nice and all, but from here on out, the night steadily declined.  We made our way to our hotel on the metro, which was in the middle of the Latin Quarter.  While this was a fabulous location, it’s fairly far from our train station.  We arrived to the hotel about 45 minutes after we said we would, and were greeted with a note on the door of reception reading: “Will return in 5 minutes.”  We waited for half an hour.  No one came.  So, Brett and I walked all the way up the stairs (there was no elevator) to the 6th floor (which, in Europe, is actually the 7th floor).  No one to be found.  We decided to head out to the phone booths, but of course, French phones never work right, and their phone booths are no exception.  We were pretty SOL, which is why we decided to go into a few hotels and politely, and in French, ask to use their phones.  Whooahhh: le grandement faux pas if I’ve ever heard one.  Needless to say, we were yelled at.  We realized that unless we wanted to be street urchins for our first night in Paris, we better look for some vacancy signs.  After about an hour and a half of searching, we finally got a room—for 95 Euro—at about 1:30 AM.  Thank holy Louix XIV for emergency credit cards.

Day 1:  Friday, October 9th, 2009
We checked out of our makeshift accommodations this morning and went directly to our first hotel to get everything sorted out.  The man at reception claimed to have been there last night while we were waiting, but upstairs in the bathroom.  I think he was because he said he heard people walking up the stairs like we did.  But he said he came back, and he didn’t.  We waited long enough, right?  Well anyway, he made us pay for the first night anyway, but he did upgrade us to the nicest room on the top floor, with a balcony and a view of the top of Notre Dame cathedral.  Could be worse, right?  It was a family-run place, so I didn’t feel it was necessary to get into a big fight about it… and besides, we wanted to head out and start exploring the City of Light!  So we set out and stormed the first creperie we could find, which happened to be well-priced, with an extremely friendly staff.  Win!  Crepes in hand, we rounded the next corner and accidentally (but thankfully) stumbled upon the Jardins du Luxembourg, where the fall colors were already creeping into the leaves but the flowers were still in bloom, and Parisian women took their dogs for their morning walks—perfection.  We didn’t have an agenda this morning, and just wandered to the different illustrated monuments on our maps that drew our interest.  We ended up at the gold-domed Place des Invalides, which was simply stunning.  The architecture had me drooling.  We kept wandering, but this time with a destination: the Eiffel Tower.  Of course, we paused for the necessary photo ops, and then continued our journey.  Next, on the way to the Trocadero, we managed to find a bizarre hill outcrop with a man-made, but overgrown pathway that led up around the side of the hill.  I think it was a city planner’s failed attempt at a hillside park, which now seems to just be a place for the homeless to sleep.  Hey, at least it has a purpose.  At the Trocadero, we paused for more photo ops—still of the Eiffel Tower, but from a different vantage point which offered sweeping views of the cityscape as well.  Not to mention that the Trocadero is a beautiful plaza in its own right.  Afterwards, we trekked the long distance to l’Arc de Triomph, the gateway between Paris’ older and newer districts.  We didn’t go up inside (poor students, yay!) but I feel like I got the idea.  The sculptures on the sides of the facade are more exciting anyway—and free.  Once we’d had enough, we did some leisurely shopping along the Champs de l’Elysee.  Highlights of this leg of our trek back into the center of town include some cool architecture, a Haagen-Dazs superstore (whaaat), and a mile-long art installment of Vogue covers dating from 1920-2009.  This led us to the Place de la Concorde (which we managed to cross twice without getting squished by seemingly hundreds of lanes of oncoming traffic), and ultimately to the Louvre Museum.  We went in, but not into the exhibits due to some miscommunication—but that’s okay, because it was fairly late in the afternoon anyway.  Instead, we walked (even more!) to Ile de la Cite, the charming island in the middle of the Seine, where we perused the riverside market stalls that led us to Notre Dame cathedral.  Out of all the sights to see in Paris, this one takes the cake.  The 25 or so (free) minutes that I spent inside were very emotional for me, and I’m not positive that I can articulate why.  I could continue to ramble and make up some BS about how eternal it is blahblah, but honestly, it’s just stunning—and humbling—to encounter.  This was the last stop on our somewhat spontaneous walking tour of the city; and as our hotel was only about a 10 minute walk from Notre Dame, we took a short pitstop to rest.  Afterwards—since poor students are always on the search for free food—we went to the 4th in search of a place where I heard there was free couscous.  When we got there, the guy at the bar seemed to say that we were too late (or something like that) so we ordered a beer and peaced.  Whatevs, we weren’t that hungry anyway.  So, to end our exciting and jam-packed first day in Paris, we went to see the infamous Moulin Rouge, which is celebrating its 120th year.  It’s still a club, so really, all there is to do is look at it and take touristy pictures, so we did!  And since our feet were about 65% blister by this point, we took the metro back to the hotel and passed out.

Day 2: Saturday, October 10th, 2009
This morning, we woke up way too early to visit the 700-room Chateau de Versailles, originally built as a hunting lodge in 1624 by Louis XIII.  Since Brett had already seen the inside on a school trip, he decided to spend his morning in the gardens while I went inside the palace.  Although there are 700 rooms, visitors sadly see significantly less—but of course, what we see is stunning nonetheless.  The crown jewel of the visit, for me and probably for many others, was the hall of mirrors.  It wasn’t quite as glittery as I had expected (most of the mirrors were actually pretty dirty) but there was still a mystique to the room that I didn’t feel anywhere else in the palace.  There were also installations of modern art by one artist (who I forget the name of…woops) which, while they were interesting, seemed very arbitrary in contrast to the palace itself.  Brett and I had planned to meet up on the back steps of the palace, which, the last time he was there, could be accessed from the palace museum.  But, things had changed, and in order to meet up with him, I had to pay the entrance to the gardens as well.  Ultimately this was fine because the gardens were stunning, and although my feet were throbbing from all the walking of the morning and the previous day, I had paid the money, so I was sure as hell going to explore.  And it was well worth it.  Note: always buy combo tickets.  Lesson learned.  After exploring for half the day, we were pretty well famished, so we took the train back to Paris for lunch.  For lunch, we split a 0.90 Euro-cent baguette and a giant, mostly-frozen Coke, which we shared.  And honestly, it was an amazing meal.  We went back to the Ile de la Cite, passed a million advertisements for the Chatalet Theatre Musical de Paris’ production of Mozart’s la Flute enchantee (which I wish I could have seen!) and ended up at the Pompidou Center, where we encountered some very intriguing street theatre, and a guy blowing giant bubbles and a few Parisian toddlers trying to catch them; it was a lovely scene.  On our way to La Republique, we found the most amazing (and high-end) confectionery in existence.  I could have spent a few sweet hours there, but it would’ve cost the rest of my budget for this weekend!  With thoughts of sugarplums in our heads, we made it to the Bastille, stopping to admire the contrasting styles of the Bastille column and the stunning modern architecture of the Opera House.  As it was late afternoon, we decided to relax for a while at the Places des Vosges in the Marais—the oldest planned square in Paris.  The afternoon sun cast long, ornate shadows and illuminated the broad leaves of the trees while the youth of Paris lounged away the hours.  It was almost dinner time, and Brett had bought a ticket to see a concert that night for his music class, so we shared a plate of chicken (that we—for some reason—assumed would be chicken fingers, but alas was half a chicken) and frites.  Afterwards, Brett went to his concert, and I took the evening for myself, walking along the Seine and although I tried to take a nighttime cruise down the river, the boats had stopped running 20 minutes before!  What luck (not that I could afford it anyway).  Instead, I went back to the plaza in front of Notre Dame, where pro roller-bladers (what? I know.) were showing off their tricks in front of many happy tourists and a smattering of less-enthused locals.  I went back to the hotel to meet up with Brett, and after some recoup time, we hit the town to celebrate our last night in Paris.  We bought some cheap (but good!) wine and a baguette, and walked across town to the Eiffel Tower.  We sat beside it for an hour or so, and took lots of pictures/waited patiently for the hourly light show.  On our way back to the hotel in our happy state, we broke down and bought a cone of Haagen Dazs each, and it was probably the best icecream cone I’ve ever had in my life.  And that much better because it was in Paris.  Once we were back at the hotel, I continued to sip wine on the balcony, overlooking the top of Notre Dame and the bustling nightlife of the Latin Quarter below.  But across the street, a house party was in full swing.  Some of the attendees were hanging out the window for a smoke and invited me over.  I wish I could have gone, but I couldn’t keep their inebriated attention for long enough that they could tell me where their door was.  Ah well, it was fun to watch at least.

Day 3: Sunday, October 11th, 2009
On our last day in Paris, we woke up in enough time to catch one last sight before our 10:35 AM train back to the Netherlands: the Sacre Coeur in the Montmartre district.  It’s quite a climb to the top, but it’s well worth the cardio and the efforts of dodging the many peddlers.  The view of the city from the top is stunning.  As it was the early morning, the area was just waking up; street vendors were beginning to open their tents for the Sunday morning market in the cobbled lanes of the hilltop Sacre Coeur neighborhood.  We had a little while to explore the neighborhood, which I think is where I would want to live if I ever live in Paris.  After poking around, we managed to grab one last crepe—and we saved the best for last.  With smiles on our faces and in our bellies, we hustled back to Paris Nord terminal to catch our beautiful Thalys bullet train back to the Netherlands; as the French countryside sped by us, washed in the morning light, I nodded off with daydreams of the weekends to come.

A Weekend in Copenhagen, Denmark

Day 0:  Thursday, Oct. 1st, 2009
After getting out of class on Thursday afternoon, the group I was traveling with (my roommates Brett and Taylor, along with Claire, Colleen and Sophie) walked to the bus stop at Cafe Vink to catch our bus to Venlo station.  We barely made it, as buses going both directions on route 83 pulled up while we were still half a block away—we started sprinting even though we didn’t know which bus to get on.  It was confusing (but mostly hilarious) and we ended up getting on the right bus.  Whew.  It was a nice afternoon ride, with the sun slowly sinking over the Dutch countryside.  When we got to Venlo, we found another giant group of castle-dwellers waiting for their train as well (though they were going in the opposite direction, to Interlaken, Switzerland—one of my future destinations).  We all hung out for a bit and grimaced over the fact that we all were about to endure our first grueling, overnight, 14-hour train rides.  Our train pulled in (this one a commuter train to Dusseldorf HBF, where we caught our international train), we said our goodbyes and wished each other all an adventurous weekend.  Our layover in Dusseldorf was fairly uneventful, aside from us getting to the ticket office right before it closed (meaning some of our group wouldn’t be able to get their tickets for our international train) but we scooted in a few minutes before they closed and we were all smiles.  We boarded our CityNightLine overnight train, and piled into one compartment in the day coach, which was cramped to say the least (yay for poor students and Eurail passes).  Once we had passed Cologne, Germany, all the people who were supposed to be in our compartment had come to claim their seats, we just looked around like dumb students, and they found other seats.  It worked out pretty well, and we settled in for the night.  In an attempt to kick off our weekend in a classy way, Taylor bought us all wine for the train, but failed to remember that we’d need a bottle opener.  We tried to implement by using my nail clippers and tweezers to try and pry it open (what were we thinking?), but of course it wasn’t a normal cork, it was a plastic one; we were not successful in the least, except to make it look like a dog had made the cork its personal chewtoy.  By divine intervention, I realized that the steward in first class might have a bottle opener!  So, Claire and I made our way to the first class section of the train (it was far away…we were the last compartment in the last car of the train) to hunt for a steward.  We found one, but couldn’t really communicate with him what we needed—yay language barriers.  He finally understood, and we had to walk all the way back to our compartment to get the wine bottle, back up again to the steward, and then all the way back again to finally sit down and drink it.  Which we did.  But naturally, since we’re cheap students, it wasn’t very good wine.  At all.  In fact, it tasted a lot like vinegar.  Fail.  But it took the edge off, and we had lively conversation until falling into a fragmented, uncomfortable sleep (lesson learned: on CNL trains, splurge for the couchettes).  No matter, the next morning at about 10 am, we arrived in Copenhagen!

Day 1:  Friday, Oct. 2nd, 2009
We woke up to a gorgeous sunrise over the water as our train was speeding across a giant suspension bridge.  Can someone say photo op?  Yes.  After arriving in Copenhagen, we had a bit of trouble finding our hostel, because lots of streets were closed in the area of our hostel because all of the Obamas, as well as Oprah, were in the immediate vicinity to push for the Chicago Olympic bid.  It was kindof surreal—there were helicopters hovering over the area, and police were blockading quite a few streets.  Nevertheless, we found our hostel (DanHostel Copenhagen Downtown) and checked in.  It was a very nice place, but a little pricy since they charge for linens, lockers, basically anything they could think of.  But the location was excellent (I mean, hello, Oprah was nearby.  What more proof do you need?).  After that, we spent much of the afternoon exploring the quaint and colorful streets.  We also stumbled upon all of the security vehicles blocking off where Obama’s cavalcade was going to drive through at some point, but we didn’t have the attention span to wait for that.  But we saw snipers on the roof…it was legit.  We got a great little lunch from a cafe off one of the main squares in the shopping district—mine was like a pizza, except with artichoke and this great type of cheese that I can’t remember the name of.  We kept exploring in the general direction of Tivoli Gardens, which is (I think) the oldest theme park in the world and it’s right in the center of town.  But, sadly, it was closed.  We were pretty upset about that, but we bounced back with a touristy ferris wheel ride above the city, which was absolutely gorgeous—Copenhagen has a beautiful skyline, especially under sunny skies.  Afterward, we went to the Rundetaarn, or Round Tower (which was originally an old astronomy tower), for more panoramic views of the city.  There was also a fantastic gallery attached to the tower with really cool modern art installations—highly recommended if you’re ever in Copenhagen.  Then we began our long trek to see the Little Mermaid statue, making stops at the beautiful King’s Gardens and Rosenborg Castle, as well as Amelienborg Palace (with stunning views of the Opera House) on our way there.  I’ll be honest, the statue was a little underwhelming, but the folklore that goes along with it makes it worth seeing (it’s just one of the things you have to do in Copenhagen), I just wish that it was a little closer to the center of town.  Afterwards, we got an amazing dinner at Sari, a restaurant near our hostel.  When the check came, though, we almost died because the grand total was 638 Kroner and we had forgotten that we were in a different currency system than Euros!  That was a scary moment.  Then, back to the hostel to get ready for the most anticipated event of the weekend—the IceBar!!!  IceBarCPH was right down the block from our hostel (how convenient) and worth every penny.  When we got there, they outfitted us with arctic-weight gloves and fur-lined parkas.  The drinks were served in hollowed out solid blocks of ice, and yes, the walls, the bar, basically everything but the floor and the booze was made of ice.  It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen, and a perfect end to our first (and tiring) day in Copenhagen.

Day 2: Saturday, Oct. 3rd, 2009
Today, we slept in pretty late, and then made our way to the Statens Museum for Kunst (the Danish National Gallery) but only after a few pit-stops to get real danishes from Denmark, and to visit a big candy store where I bought a 2-foot-long gummy snake!  Not only was the National Gallery one of the best museums I’ve ever been to (it’s top 3—and I’ve been to a hell of a lot of museums) but the best part is it’s free!  I also discovered a new favorite artist while wandering its halls, Carl-Henning Pedersen.  While we were in the museum, it decided to start pouring down rain, so it’s a good thing that we spent most of our day there.  We headed back to the area of our hostel for an early dinner, and we were lucky enough to find a tiny, family-run, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant with only about 4 tables in the whole place.  The guy liked us so much that he made us mozzarella and pesto baguette as an appetizer for free!  Needless to say, we made a point to come back again the next day—oh, did I mention it was one of the cheapest meals we had in Denmark?  That night, Claire, Colleen, Sophie, and I decided to go to the Opera House to see a performance of the Royal Danish Ballet company performing two works: first, a traditional ballet, and second, Jerome Robbins’ original choreography in the West Side Story Suite.  It was a fabulous evening, and the Copenhagen Opera House is by far the most architecturally stunning building I have seen anywhere in my life.  I would live there if I could.  After the performance, we perused an outdoor art exhibit on one of the main squares and met up with Taylor and Brett back at the hostel to go to a local bar for some drinks.  Then it was sleepytime.

Day 3: Sunday, Oct. 4th, 2009
This morning, we all went to the Danish Design Center, which was a small, but very intriguing interactive gallery showcasing, well, Danish design.  Not just in the architectural sense, though, but in other ways as well like energy efficiency (there was a fully electric car on display which was very cool).  Afterwards, we had to make a stop at the train station to secure tickets for some of our return trips.  Most of the group then went to a big indoor mall (it was raining again), but Brett and I decided to explore just a bit more and went to Nyhavn Harbor, one of the most picturesque places in the city.  And it was just our luck, that the sun came out just when we got there!  We took some great pictures for mom and pop, and found an icecream shop to satisfy our addiction.  It was damn tasty.  We met up with the rest of the group at the mall, and I found the watch of my dreams, which was of course many thousand Kroner, so I didn’t even bother converting it in to $US because I knew it would make me cry.  As all of our goals for the weekend (minus Tivoli) had been accomplished, we didn’t really have a plan for the rest of the afternoon.  So, we wandered around and happened upon this little kitschy shop filled with the funniest trinkets you could imagine (I had to take a picture of the “Paparazzi Playset”).  We then headed back to our little Italian place to pick up some food for then and for the train later, went back to the hostel to pick up our luggage, and made our afternoon/overnight train back to the Castle.  Copenhagen was one of the cities that I was most excited about visiting this semester, and it definitely didn’t disappoint… I can’t wait to come back (except next time when it’s warmer and Tivoli is open)!

A Weekend in Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Day 1 - Friday, Sept. 25th 2009

Our first travel weekend - the faculty and staff of Kasteel Well are taking us to the capital city of the Netherlands, Amsterdam!  We started our Friday morning early; our lovely and dedicated RA’s making the rounds to beat loudly on everyone’s doors at 6:15 am, lest we forget the buses leave promptly at 8 am (and yes, Doine, we know that you’ll leave without us).  Surprisingly, in the midst of drowsy students and the hazy beauty of a European country morning, both of our buses managed to leave on time.  I spent the bus ride talking in funny voices with Claire and diligently reading Darwin’s Origin of Species for my honors seminar.  We pulled into Amsterdam at about 11 am, and at least 4 of us managed to collide with bicycles and scooters while getting off the bus (rule #1 in Amsterdam: look 8 ways before crossing the street…or bike paths…or tram tracks).  In true Kasteel fashion, there was no time to rest.  We checked into the hostel (StayOkay Vondelpark - a good choice), dropped off our bags, and started our small-group city walking tour.  I had the foresight to choose Dulcia, the head of the Kasteel Well program, as my faculty guide for the walking tour: not only does she love Amsterdam, but she also wrote the test that we had to take on the history of the city and the Netherlands.  We strolled along the canals, stopping for pictures and zoning in and out of Dulcia’s eloquent monologues.  My favorite part of the tour was the “secret plaza” in the heart of the city, a small square mostly inhabited by university students that can only be accessed through an imposing wooden door and elaborately tiled walkway.  Once inside, you can’t even hear the bustle of the city surrounding you; it’s like being in another (very quiet) dimension.  We finished up our tour and Erin, Rachel and I decided that Dam Square would be an appropriate locale to scarf down the mediocre bag lunch (except for the paprika chips!) the school provided.  At least it was free.  The three of us spent the rest of our lunch break wandering the boulevards near Dam Square, posing with wooden clogs in one store, marveling at the hundreds of cigar varieties in another, and of course perusing our first sex shop (yes, I said first).  We also managed to fit in an epic graffiti photo shoot in an alley next to a cheese shop off the main street - definitely a highlight of the weekend.  Next, we met up with the group again and headed to the Rijksmuseum.  It was adequate and worth the visit, but not the best I’ve been to.  However, it was very cool to see the original of Rembrandt’s Night Watch.  Afterwards, the “castle dwellers” feasted Indonesian-style - it was one of the best meals I’ve had in recent memory.  That concluded the first school-sponsored day in Amsterdam, and now it was time to party.  After resting a while at the hostel, a large group of us (I’d guess 12?) went out to experience nightlife in Amsterdam.  And yes, it’s all they say it is.  Being the cheap college students we are, we only went into the free or relatively inexpensive places: the first of which was a pirate bar.  I don’t really know how else to describe it: tropical-themed, loud music, crazy lights, and we were the only ones dancing.  Womp.  So we moved on to a real club (my first) and it just so happened to be a gay club.  I’m not gonna lie, it was incredibly fun.  Little by little, our group started to disintegrate (aka the pansies went to sleep) but me, Hallie, Kristen, and Andrew kept going.  On the way back to the hostel, we hit up New York Pizza (yep, like the one around the corner from campus) and also bought the first of many croquets from the place that sells food out of the wall.  We made it back about 4:30 am.  And I can assure you I slept like a baby… until we had to get up 4 hours later.  Fail.

Day 2 - Saturday, Sept. 26th 2009

Like I said, I only got 4 hours of sleep.  And when I woke up, I was still feeling something.  Let’s leave it at that.  Nevertheless, we had to start our second day of summer camp.  My first stop was to tour the Amsterdam Historical Museum, led again by the one and only Dulcia Meijers.  I really enjoyed this museum, but it didn’t hold a candle to my next stop: the Van Gogh Museum.  This one, by far, hands down, one hundred percent, give me a pie and call me Nancy Drew, was my favorite museum.  I’ve always loved Van Gogh, but after spending a couple hours in this shrine to impressionism, I have a renewed love for him (fun fact: he only cut his earlobe off, not the whole ear).  Plus I almost died when I saw “Almond Blossom” in person.  End day 2 of summer camp.  Afterwards, Erin, Kate, Taylor and I relaxed at Museumplein square and took uber-touristy pictures at the I amsterdam sign.  We took the rest of our afternoon to rest up for another night of fun.  Although this night wasn’t quite as crazy as the previous, it was still a night of firsts.  A group of friends (smaller, this time) and I started our night in the red light district.  Although the Dutch generally look down upon its legal existence, it’s really a fascinating place when you think about the social implications that surround it.  But I wasn’t thinking about that at the time, I was thinking about what the hell happens inside Banana Bar and which sex shop to go into to laugh at the DVD’s (we found a good one, don’t worry).  As you can imagine, all this exploration makes a person hungry!  Lucky for us, we found a pancake house that not only served phenomenal Dutch pancakes (ours had vanilla icecream, cherries, and cherry liquer - boy did we inhale that), but they also offered 10 Jaeger shots for 10 Euro.  It was too good a deal to pass up… so we didn’t.  And they were served in test tubes, which always makes things more fun!  Aside from peeing in a public urinal, I don’t really remember much after that (but only because I’m finally writing this two weeks later, Mom, promise) but we ended up back at the hostel for a good night’s sleep.

Day 3 - Sunday, Sept. 27th 2009

We got to sleep in a little this morning, and spent a while exploring a new section of the city that we hadn’t gotten to see before, and in the process found a lovely street market filled with amazing artwork.  Needless to say, I would be bringing home hundreds of Euro worth of art if I had the money to buy it.  We met up with the group at the Anne Frank House, and spent the rest of the morning touring the house and museum - it was a moving experience.  I wish I could articulate how, but I’m sure it would be different for everyone, so I’m just going to urge you to visit there if you have a chance.  Afterwards, Claire, Erin, Rachel, Eric and I ate a leisurely lunch at the museum’s cafe overlooking the canal.  We still had a little bit of time before our train, but Claire and Eric were tired/boring so they went to the train station.  Meanwhile, the rest of us attempted to take a canal cruise and failed, but we found this really cool and fun (and colorful) store called Kitsch Kitchen which was a blast, and also a bookstore straight out of a fairytale that was unfortunately closed.  Then we enjoyed our sunny, warm walk back to the train station.  And of course, no travel weekend would be complete without some humorous transportation mishap…  As it was our first time using the Dutch rail system, we didn’t really know what the hell we were doing.  It turns out that the train we got on in Amsterdam didn’t go all the way to our destination (which we didn’t realize at the time).  However, there was a helpful LCD display inside the train that showed the last stop that the train was going to.  Well, while we were stopped at one particular station (with a name no one could pronounce) for an unusually long amount of time, the LCD display changed from what it said previously to “A’dam Centraal.”  About the same time that we noticed that, I noticed that the sign on our platform had changed and said that the train we were on was going back to Amsterdam.  We all had a collective deer-in-the-headlights moment, and then one of us yelled “GET OFF THE TRAIN!!!”  The other people on the train looked bewildered, but we were off that thing in 4 seconds flat.  And it’s a good thing, too, because the train left about 30 seconds after we got off.  Long story short, we made it back to the Castle in one piece and in time for dinner.  And it was the first of many amazing weekends traveling through Europe.

I believe that modern dance is truly good for the soul.  It is empowering; it is passionate; it is beautiful.  And best of all: it is art.