Barcelona and Istanbul

Barcelona and Istanbul

Hello All!

My last trips during my semester abroad were to Barcelona, Spain and Istanbul, Turkey. Both of these cities were places I never expected to visit, but I’m incredibly glad I did!

Barcelona

Barcelona was beautiful. We arrived at night, when the weather was nice and cool. The first morning we walked to the beach, which was my main reason for wanting to visit the city. The beach was beautiful, but the water was very, very cold!

After spending some time at the beach we decided to get a traditional Spanish breakfast – chocolate con churros. It was delicious!

The city of Barcelona is gorgeous – light and airy architecture surrounded by mountains, and (of course) the sea.

One of the best parts of Barcelona is Las Ramblas, a beautiful stone, tree-lined, lamp-lit boulevard that runs from the Placa de Cataluyna to the Mediterranean Sea. It reminded me of Paris, especially the beautiful black rod iron lamps. The main tourist attraction of Barcelona is La Sagrada Familia, a cathedral designed by the famous architect Gaudi. Construction was started 150 years ago and it still hasn’t been finished!

Istanbul

Istanbul is an amazing city, filled with good food and very old architecture. Here are some of my favorite pictures:

Turkish Coffee

Baklava

The Asian Side of Istanbul

Turkish Tea

Inside the Hagia Sofia

London and Dublin

London

We left Paris for London early Sunday morning. To go from France to the UK by train, you have to fill out a little card noting where you’re going to be staying, for how long, etc., etc. I didn’t know the exact address of our hostel, and thus didn’t fill in that particular box – that turned out to be a mistake. In a sharp, unfriendly British accent, the customs agent asked me why I left that box blank, and didn’t I know that I was supposed to fill in every box? Then she asked me what I was doing in Europe, how long I was staying, when I was going back, etc. I answered every question as honestly and professionally as I could, and so I think she realized that I wasn’t trying to illegally immigrate to England. She ended the conversation by telling me that I “should be able to prove at any time that you’re returning to the United States,” i.e, that I should have a copy of my ticket back to the U.S. with me at all times. I hadn’t heard that before, so I was kind of shocked, but after that she finally let me through customs.

Our tour guide in Paris had told us that the ride from Paris to London was really beautiful, and it was, to a certain extent. I have yet to see anything in Europe that surpasses the natural beauty of the U.S., except for maybe the Ionian Sea in Greece. The French countryside was pretty, of course, but nothing was shockingly beautiful. It was foggy and raining when we arrived in London, which made me happy.

Our hostel was in a quieter area of London, Victoria. It was actually an old house, a house that looked identical to every other house on the street – white stone, beautiful columns and large windows in the front. There were plenty of other hostels and hotels on the street, and it wasn’t a far walk to the bus station at all. It was nice, too, to be able to converse with the front desk employee in English guilt-free. It was called the Astor Victoria, and it was my favorite for meeting people: the whole place had a Bohemian, social feel to it. What I didn’t like was the internet charge – 1 pound, or $1.61 – to use the internet for 40 minutes. The breakfast was excellent – makings for sandwiches, tea, etc.; but I chose instead the biscuits and off-brand Nutella.

We visited all the typical touristy sites – Big Ben, Parliament, Westminster Abbey, the Tower of London, London Bridge, Hyde Park, Regents Park, Whitehall, Buckminster Palace, Shakespeare’s Globe Theater – but we didn’t actually go into any of the admission-charging sites. We were in London for four days, and as I mentioned above, the pound-dollar conversion rate is atrocious, so really, going inside wasn’t affordable, and it was kind of stupid of us to spend the longest time in the most expensive city.

We took the Sandeman’s free walking tour again; this time our guide was a Canadian named Ben who tried to do this funny bit about marrying Princess Beatrice, but it didn’t really work. Most of the tour was really informative though, and we met some pretty cool people.

The coolest person I met, Marianne Bois, I met at the hostel, and not on the tour. Before I had met a college freshman from West Virginia (he was very well-meaning, but let’s just say he made most of the European stereotypes about Americans look true, which rubbed me the wrong way) who introduced me to Marianne. She’s from Quebec City, and just finished high school. She’s only 18 and she’s travelling around Europe by herself for three months! It turned out that we had really similar musical tastes, and since we were in London, we of course had to go to Abbey Road.

It took us forever to find it, but it was an adventure! We took the Tube to the Baker Street metro stop, where we passed by the Sherlock Holmes Museum. I am a huge Sherlock Holmes fan, so of course I insisted we go inside. I had read online that the museum was a tourist trap, but I was hoping that the website had lied. We were only allowed inside the gift shop, which was really cool, so we decided to come back and visit it after we found Abbey Road.

Marianne’s direction said that to get to Abbey Road you had to walk all the way around Regent’s Park. We did so for a while, but the neighborhood just got more and more residential, and it felt like we were going the wrong way. Finally we stopped at a huge rod-iron gate, and asked the attendant how to get to Abbey Road. He didn’t speak very much English (not that many people in London do) and so he called over another attendant, who didn’t speak English that well either. Then, like angels descending from heaven, a refined-looking lady in tennis clothes and with a very, very strong British accent, appeared with presumably her son, also in tennis clothes, and two little dogs. “Are you looking for Abbey Road?” she proceeded to give us very detailed, precise directions on exactly how to get to Abbey Road. After thanking her profusely, we set off in the right direction. As we walked back I noticed that next to the gate there was a black plaque bearing the words “Winfield House”, and one could barely see a beautiful house, in Regent’s Park,” through the pine trees. I was completely convinced that we had just met British nobility, and some day I’m going to look it up and see if it’s true.

Now that we knew where we were going, Marianne and I set off in the right direction for Abbey Road. I asked her if I could try and speak to her in French, and she said “Of course!” So I would speak to her in French and she would speak to me in English. Her English was much, much better than my French, but I was glad I was trying all the same. After stopping and asking several more strangers (just to make sure) that we were going the right direction, we finally reached Abbey Road. It was cool, but not because of the road itself (by the way, if I were to drive in London, which I will never, ever do – more details about why later – I would avoid Abbey Road like the plague) but because of the wall where all the visitors to Abbey Road sign their names. While we were there we saw someone filming a commercial, and a father-son-duo playing “Here Comes the Sun”.

We went back to Baker Street and looked through the Beatles Store, which was really cool, and a hard-rock store with all sorts of cool paraphenialia (like a gold record signed by The Who) across the street. Then, finally, I coughed up the 6 pounds ($12) for the Sherlock Holmes Musuem, which turned out to be…

Horrible. Absolutely horrible. There was one cool thing in the whole three floors of kitschy, cheesy, reproductions – a chair that an illustrator had used in order to design the cover of a magazine bearing one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s short stories. And that was all. On the first floor a man wearing a top hat greeted us with “Good Afternoon, my name is Dr. Watson, and this is my chair. Would you like to sit down and take a picture with me?” Yes, it was THAT kind of place. The second floor was worse – all sorts of horrible wax figures representing characters from the short stories, but they were ugly and cheesy and, although realistic-looking, just not normal. I finally realized I just had to laugh at the situation, and so I did, but here’s some advice: if you’re ever in London, do NOT pay to see the Sherlock Holmes Museum.

Ultimately, while I really liked London, I personally don’t think it’s incredibly exciting compared to the rest of Europe. The fact that there is no language barrier makes things a little less exciting, and the city itself disappointed me a little. Maybe it’s because I had seen too many British movies or read too much British literature, but it just didn’t live up to my expectations. However, this could also be because I didn’t get to really see London – I didn’t get to visit Camdentown, and we spent hardly any time in Soho, and I’m sure there were other neighborhoods that would’ve been more to my taste that we just skipped altogether. While we did get to see some cool things, overall I think that I would’ve enjoyed London a lot more if I hadn’t seen it from the tourist’s perspective. Still, it’s definitely worth a visit, but I would see the rest of Europe first.

Dublin

We arrived in Dublin around 8 AM on – that’s right, Saint Patrick’s Day. We took a bus from Dublin’s interesting, kind of cool airport, to the city center – which it turns out we shouldn’t have done. We almost had to get a taxi to our hotel, until we figured out, with the help of two friendly policewomen, that we could take public transportation. Phew. As we walked to the LUAS (Dublin’s very new, very nice, and very slow suburban tram) I was surprised, but not that surprised, to see more than one person cracking open a Guinness at 8 AM.

Our hotel, located about a thirty-minute tram ride away from Dublin’s city center, was absolutely gorgeous, and of course, jam-packed. It turned out that in addition to St. Patrick’s Day, there was a huge soccer game going on in Dublin that weekend (maybe against England? I’m not sure) so the hotel was completely full. I took a shower and rested for a bit, while Siiri headed back to the city center to meet up with Allie, another SLU student who’s studying in Galway.

When I went back down to Dublin city center, I wasn’t at all surprised to see that the city had completely transformed from the morning. The streets were jam-packed with people wearing green, and of course, the beer bottles abounded. I somehow missed the St. Patrick’s Day Parade, but that was okay because instead I got to see my favorite thing – street musicians. There were SO many street musicians in Dublin. In fact, that night we encountered a whole band with amps and microphones and everything, playing on the street across from Temple Bar. In the bar we went into there was a guy playing traditional Irish music, and then he would switch to an American rock song. (American music is everywhere – from Krakow to London and everywhere in between).

Dublin is a very family-friendly city. I’m sure when it’s not jam-packed for St. Patrick’s Day that it’s really a nice, quiet place. Half the time I took the tram into the city I was sitting next to a family coming in from the suburbs. Valerie, if you’re reading this, I think you would absolutely love Dublin.

Okay, I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to cut this entry short. I need to pack! I’m about to leave for Istanbul (I always realize that I haven’t updated my blog yet when I’m about to leave on a trip) – my last trip! I’m planning on going to Vienna for a day, and maybe to Lake Balaton (the most famous vacation spot in Hungary) for two days, but soon enough, I’ll be home!

Next post: Barcelona!

Prague and Paris!

^^Prague
Hello everyone! I'm on the move again, this time on a plane from Budapest to Barcelona. Currently we're flying over a beautiful Italian mountain range, about half way through the flight. I've taken a few trips since last time I updated, so this time I'm just going to hit two cities: Paris and Prague.

Prague

We took a nine hour bus ride from Budapest, through Slovakia, to Prague. The Czech countryside is absolutely beautiful - lots of low, rolling hills. The countryside actually seemed pretty populated, compared to Slovakia at least. I didn't see my last name anywhere the whole trip (I did see it in Krakow though!) but it could be because we mostly stuck to the touristy areas.

Even the area around the bus terminal in Prague was beautiful. We took the metro into the city center, but that was literally the only time we had to take public transportation the whole trip - downtown Prague is that walkable. We arrived at the hostel and then immediately set out to find food.

My first thought when we arrived to the city center? "My ancestors done good." The architecture and layout of the city is the most beautiful I've seen in Europe (yes, even surpassing Paris). The Molva River which cuts through Prague is absolutely beautiful, much more clean than the Danube. Stretching across the river is probably the single most beautiful bridge in the entire world - the Karluv most, or Charles Bridge. It's an entirely pedestrian bridge, and every few feet there is a beautiful statue depicting some Christian figure. During the daytime on the bridge you can find vendors selling souvenirs, jewelry, artwork, and lots of handmade wooden objects, usually toys. It was on the Charles bridge that I encountered my first ever one-man-band, who was phenomenal, in my opinion.

Okay, so back to the first day: we decided to look for food on the main tourist shopping drag, where we immediately found a little sausage stand. I tried a Bohemian sausage (delicious) and hot chocolate with rum (disgusting). We walked along the shopping street for a while, running into a Nike promotion concert and encountering lots of fancy stores, before meeting up with the rest of the group and returning to the hostel. I was surprised by the amount of English I heard - more than in Rome even, which was the most touristy city we had visited - but I was okay with it because I hadn't heard much English since I had left the States.

Saturday was our really touristy day. I went with three of my friends all around historic Prague, visiting the major sites - a beautiful clock tower in the Old Market, an outdoor touristy-market in a little side street where I got all my souvenirs for my Czech relatives, an armor/medieval weaponry store, Prague Castle (which you had to walk uphill for probably a mile to reach, and turned out to be a cathedral... but a gorgeous cathedral, possibly my favorite in Europe), and then back to the Old Market for a lunch/dinner of really delicious, really expensive ham (we didn't realize this until after we bought it - the Czech koruna conversion rate is the most difficult to calculate). We went back to the hostel to rest for an hour or two, and then headed back out for a real Czech dinner. We sort of meandered around the city for a while until we found an authentic Czech place, which charged us for bread (downside of being a tourist, I guess). I was still full from the ham, so I only had a chicken-stuffed tomato, but one of my friends got ... Pork knee. It looked interesting, to say the least.

Our bus left Prague mid-afternoon on Sunday, so we didn't have too much time for sightseeing. We hiked the mile back up to Prague Castle (our friends told us admission to the cathedral was free) except we walked up a different way, and ran into... the changing of the guard at the castle! We were so lucky, we had just reached the top of the hill when we practically plowed into a contingent marching towards the castle. The music was actually kind of cool, and although we couldn't really see the changing, it was neat to experience. Czech guards wear opposite colors from British guards, by the way - blue coats and white Russian-esque furry hats.

After the changing, we walked back down the hill and decided to go to the Jewish Quarter. We wanted to go inside what was supposed to be a really cool old Jewish cemetery, but it charged for admission. We ended up back in the shopping district.

I could go on for ages about the beauty of Prague: the river, the colorful buildings, the black cobblestone streets, the uniformity of the architecture, the cleanliness of the entire city, and how well the old structures were preserved. But I have to be honest: even if I did describe Prague for pages and pages, I wouldn't be able to do it justice. My advice: if you're going to visit one city in central/eastern Europe, let it be Prague. You have to experience the city's beauty for yourself.

Paris

Where do I begin? I've been fascinated with Paris for ages; my apartment last fall had two pictures of the Eiffel Tower, and I chose to take French when I started college. Paris did not disappoint.

It was a little stressful at first. Paris was the first leg of our three-part Spring Break journey, and so when we left for Paris we were leaving for ten days. When we landed at Charles de Gaulle airport, I couldn't help but think that it was the most beautiful airport I'd ever been in. This next part is going to sound a little strange, so please bear with me. Because France colonized so many African nations, and because Paris is, well, Paris, there are many, many Africans in Paris. In Eastern Europe, this is not the case at all; whenever I see a black person in Budapest I do a doubletake because it happens so rarely. So call me a sheltered American, but when I saw Africans in Paris I immediately thought, "Oh thank God! Americans!" Of course, I was in for a huge shock. The first African-French person I spoke too had the thickest Parisian accent I had ever heard and spoke English very poorly. Later I realized how backwards that was, that I was expecting all the Africans I encountered to be African-Americans... it was a very surreal moment.

We managed to find our way to the Metro, and even got off at the right stop - Rouchechart, in the Montemartre district. We climbed up the subway station stairs and onto the boulevard of Moulin Rouge, tons of cafes, a few clubs, and endless kebab stands. Some people say that Montmartre is the true side of Paris - I have a feeling it's the still-kind-of-touristy side of Paris, but nonetheless, from that first moment I stepped off the subway, I was in love. (Like I had ever not been in love with the city).

Then, it got a little stressful.

First off, Siiri had left her credit card in Budapest. Fortunately, I owed her some money from when I was waiting for my debit card in the mail, so I of course told her that I had it covered and she could pay me back. Understandably, I suppose, she didn't want to be without it and therefore was trying everything she could to get access to her bank. Then, the minute after we stepped out of the subway station, we realized that Paris is not all that easy to navigate - problem. We found our hostel after a bit, though, and it was actually really cool - murals on the wall, an open common area, and even a terrace with tables for socializing. Siiri and I went off to our separate rooms (also a surprise, considering we booked them together...) when I realized.. dun-dun-dun.. I didn't have my passport.

Fortunately, the front desk had saved it for me. From that moment on, I swore to never believe in stereotypes - about French people, or really anybody - again. I was so grateful I think I almost cried, which would've been really embarrassing, so let's just say I didn't. That first night we attempted to find the Eiffel Tower... and somehow got lost (it was my fault - Siiri wanted to walk through the park, but I wanted to be adventurous and cut through a neighborhood... once again, Paris = not that navigable) and ended up going back to Montmartre and getting delicious crepes, from an African-French vendor whom I spoke to in bad French about politics (he kept saying "America, the policeman of the world").

The next morning, after a breakfast of croissants and hot chocolate (you can see why this is my favorite city now, can't you? that was literally all the breakfast at the hostel offered - croissants, rolls, butter, jam, hot chocolate and coffee) we took the metro to Place St. Michel to meet our free walking tour. The tour was absolutely amazing - our tour guide was from Philadelphia, studying to get his Master's at Sorbonne. He was hilarious, and knew so much about the history of the city. The tour was four hours long, which was great - we saw Notre Dame, Pont Neuf, the spot where the last Templar Knight was killed, a statue of Henry III (apparently they put a light saber in his hand one year, interesting tidbit), Pont des Arts, the Louvre, Tuiliers Gardens, Musee d'Orsay, the Eiffel Tower, the real Champs-Elysees, and finally, the military hospital. On the tour we saw what must've been a Fruit of the Loom ad (it was a bunch of guys dressed up as fruit, what else could it've been?) and a model shoot on a bridge by the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards the whole group went to a little restaurant where I tried a croquemonsieur (which was amazing) and had my first glass of French wine. Later I went back to Notre Dame (Siiri was trying to get access to her account still) and tried to get in (I got there a few minutes after closing, which was a drag) but I ended up randomly asking these two girls to take my picture, and it turned out they were Hungarian! Small world, huh? From there I walked along the Seine, which is beautiful at night, back to the Louvre.

The Louvre is my favorite place in the entire world. When I arrived, I was so happy that I actually made it - walking alone, at night, in a city you don't know is always a bit frightening, even if it's Paris - that I didn't care if I'd have to pay to get in, and it turns out that I didn't! (If you're under 26 and a student in any EU country, you gain free access to the museums of other EU countries). When I walked in I was daunted by the size of the place - a glance at a map told me that it would take days to thoroughly walk through the whole museum - but I didn't care. People who had gone before me told me they had spent three hours in a single wing of the museum, and I only had three for the entire thing, so I told myself "This is my dry run. Next time, you'll do it properly." and began to walk through the museum, completely not caring if I was going out of order or what not. Minutes after walking in I remembered that I HAD to see the Mona Lisa - I had done a project on her in high school and was enchanted by the mystery surrounding the painting - and sought out a docent for directions. To my surprise, he not only understood and responded to my broken French, but then- he kept speaking to me in French! I was so shocked that all I could do was smile sillily and say "d'accord", even though I had no idea what he was saying. Anyway, it made me so happy that someone thought - possibly - that I was an actual French speaker. As soon as I left him, I literally began to sprint through the Louvre (alright, yes, I was pretending I was a character in a Dan Brown novel) until I found the painting... it was, well, underwhelming, but still exciting all the same. Anyway, the rest of the Louvre made up for any disappointment I might've felt about the Mona Lisa. The Louvre was originally a palace, so of course, the architecture is beyond beautiful and the paintings, sculptures, pottery, etc., within it are gorgeous. Ultimately, the reason why I love the Louvre so much is that you could literally learn the history of the entire world just from looking at all the paintings in the Louvre and reading their captions. It literally contains something from every era of human history. The only thing I didn't really like about it, though, was that the captions were only in French. Some rooms had small posters with translations on them, but it just wasn't the same as reading the caption right there. Otherwise, the Louvre was perfect.

The next morning I finally got into Notre Dame. It looks exactly like it does in the Disney movie; I could practically hear Esmeralda singing. The church was gorgeous, but unfortunately I was there too early to go up to the second level - oh well; another reason to go back!

After Notre Dame we took a train (only 3 euros!) to Versailles. We got in for free (again!) and got a free audio tour as well. Versailles is gorgeous; but it's another place that you really just have to visit yourself to understand its beauty.

From Versailles we went to the Musee d'Orsay (lots of Van Gogh and Monet), and then stopped for crepes (no more politics with the vendor; there were other Americans waiting this time) and then to a cafe for people-watching and a glass of wine. It's funny, in Paris some cafes are set up with the chairs purposefully facing the street - you're supposed to go there to people-watch, and not necessarily for the conversation of a friend.

My memory is failing me as to what else we did and it's getting late, so I'll wrap up with this: Paris was amazing, and I didn't get to see half the things I wanted to see (the Champs-Elysees, we didn't go up the Eiffel Tower, rue Moufetard, the Arc de Triomphe, or another half of the Louvre) and I really want to go back with loved ones - Paris isn't just a city for lovers (it's true - the Italians are lovers moreso than the French).

Next post: London and Dublin! To be posted soon!

The next day

Rome, Vienna, and Krakow

Greetings from some miles south of Budapest!

I'm currently on a train heading to Eger, a historical site in Hungary, and a great wine-tasting town. I'm excited to be using my Hungarian language skills outside of Budapest (and by Hungarian language skills, I mean my vast vocabulary of about eight words.) I'm writing this on my iPod, so I apologize for the spelling errors/poor grammar. Here we go!

Rome

At the beginning of the month my friends and I took a trip to Rome. I was lucky enough to have already been to Rome once - on a trip with my Latin class in high school - so I was familiar with the sites we visited. I will admit though, I was a little nostalgic for the first half of the trip: going to Italy and Greece with my friends was a huge bonding experience, and being back in the city without them felt strange, and really made me miss them. We visited the Coliseum, St. Peter’s Square, the Roman Forum, an Italian history museum, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, and Piazza Navona. I had actually already visited most of the sites on my high school trip, but this time I got to walk through the Roman Forum - which was gorgeous; ancient ruins that ran for miles, and a rooftop orange grove with an amazing view of the city. My other new visit was to the Italian history museum, which also offered an amazing view of the city, and even better, a sort of informative placard that told you what the buildings you were looking at were and when they were built. It was kind of mind-blowing to see a tower from Ancient Roman times standing next to a Renaissance-era church or a Medieval church next to an amphitheater.

We met my friend Kristin (from SLU) who's studying at the John Felice Rome Center (operated by Loyola Chicago) a couple times during the trip: at Piazza Navona (at night) and at Piazza Venezia later in the trip (where the history museum was located). She helped us navigate the city, but we didn’t want to drag her to all the boring tourist sites. That weekend there was a huge rugby match going on, and we kept seeing people wearing funny red-white-and-green hats on the metro (something you would never, ever see in Budapest).

The weather was warm and the people were friendly enough. Outside the Pantheon we were approached by Tik-Tak, an official party organizer for young foreigners. For ten euro we could ride a bus from the Coliseum to two different popular bars. They would pay for our first drink and if you got there early enough, you'd get a free t-shirt. We considered the offer but ultimately decided against it; we wanted to discover Rome on our own.

We also went to a flea market, where I bought a beautiful scarf for four euro (it was originally five... I'm an expert haggler.) One of the stall operators asked me if I was Spanish. He was the fourth person to do so, so I’m beginning to think that I look very Spanish.

This may seem surprising, but the first time I went to Italy, I didn't like the food. This time, it grew on me a little. We had a free, crummy breakfast every day at the hostel of cereal and rolls; but most of our meals were really thick pizza squares we bought from pizza/kebab shops on the street for around three euro. On our last night we had an actual, amazing Italian meal at a gorgeous restaurant in Piazza Navona. I was the only one to not get pasta; instead I had a pizza with salmon, white cheese and spinach, which was delicious and the size of an actual meal (the pasta portions were made for infants). It was kind of mindblowing to be eating in Piazza Navona.

We also had gelato at least once, if not twice each day. We went to this one amazing gelato place right by the Pantheon called Della Palma. It was three times the size of a regular gelato shop, and offered every type of gelato imaginable… just to name a few: orange chocolate, tiramisu, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, exotic fruit, raspberry, strawberry, pistachio, and even flavors in soy! I couldn't resist and first got a three-flavor medium (exotic fruit, mousse, and dark chocolate) and then went back and got a small two flavor (after-eight, which was mint, coffee, and chocolate chips, and Nutella).

We took the metro back from Piazza Navona to the hostel, then a train from the hostel to the airport. We landed in Budapest around midnight, and attempted to navigate the night bus system (to say this was difficult would be an understatement) and finally got back to our apartments around one a.m.

It was an amazing trip, but looking back, Italy is incredibly expensive and I had already been to Rome. Of course, I was really excited that I got to see Kristin, but I kind of wish we had met up in Venice (which I won't have the time or money to see now, and was one of the cities I reallllly wanted to see before leaving) any more.

So here's some advice for all of you studying abroad in the fall: budget your time and money well. Make sure you really want to go to the places you're visiting, because you'll soon realize that travelling every weekend, as romantic and adventurous as it sounds, is also stressful and expensive. Your time is limited, so make your choices carefully.


Vienna

Our next out-of-the-country excursion was a day trip to Vienna, Austria. We took a three hour bus ride to Vienna, crossing through gorgeous countryside to the city center. I switched back and forth between looking at the rolling green, snow-capped hills of Austria, dotted with little towns of red-capped roofs, and watching Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin in "It's Complicated" (in Hungarian, with English subtitles).

Some of the other American students had already been to Vienna. They warned us that the city was expensive and fancy; that everyone was really dressed up and was in a huge hurry. I wasn't there for as long as they were, but I definitely did not notice this at all. Yes, Vienna is very fancy: the buildings are almost all spotless; the graffiti is more artistic than Budapest's and less abundant and disrespectful; the architecture itself just seems more elegant. Our architecture professor Laszlo actually remarked on this, telling us to remember that Austria's architecture didn't suffer the 50 years of communism that Hungary's architecture did.

The night before we left, I stayed up until 2 AM researching the city - it wasn't incredibly thorough research, but I wanted to make sure I got my money's worth of the city. I made an initial list of about 20 places I wanted to go, then narrowed it down to nine. Considering we were only going to be there from 10am until 7pm, I didn't expect that we would be able to visit all the places on my list (and some of them were just dumb things like "the cafe that Freud liked to visit on Sunday afternoons") and I thought other people would want to go places too, but I was wrong. I was the only person who researched the city, which was good because it meant we went to the places that I wanted to go to, but was bad because I had to lead a group of 10 people around a city I had never been to before. Fortunately, Vienna is not at all difficult to navigate. The U-bahn (their metro system) is much more well-marked than Budapest’s, and actually provides maps.

We visited Schonnbrunn palace, the summer palace of the Hapsburgs (but didn't go inside), then went to Statue Park to try and find Strauss and Schubert's statues (we only found Strauss). Then we visited Saint Stephansdom Basilica, a gorgeous Gothic cathedral in the middle of Vienna. Not two blocks from the cathedral was the apartment Mozart lived in the longest while he was busy being famous (though I don't think it was where he died). We were about beat after Mozarthaus, so we decided to get dessert (the wiener schnitzel we had eaten earlier in the day wasn't my favorite) and then head back to the bus station.

We walked around Vienna at night, passing a demonstration by some sort of Arab population right next to the cathedral. It frustrated me that I couldn't understand their language and therefore had no idea what they were protesting. I bought some bratwurst at Wiener Wurstl (presumably Wiener World?) and stood at one of the convenient metal tables with a friend. The table was already occupied by a couple that looked like they were in their mid-30s. We began to chat;they were visiting form Barcelona, and we told them we were Americans studying in Budapest. They asked what, and I said politics. The man began talking about George Orwell (though his wife spoke better English) and all I could do was simply nod and say that I need to read more of him (all I’ve read is a couple essays, not any of his novels). While we were talking, I dropped part of my bratwurst on the ground. The man said “Eat it!” two which I replied “It’s been on the ground too long.” His wife said, “No, give it to the dog!” To which he replied, “Ha! Try that here! These Viennese, they’d say, ‘How dare you give that to my dog!’” I’ve decided that I like people from Barcelona.

Oh, I’d almost forgotten: food! At breakfast I had had apfelstrudel and hot chocolate; for lunch, wiener schnitzel, French fries and four-euro mineral water; for dinner, some sort of chocolate pastry and my friend's tiramisu. I also tried Siiri’s sacher-torte (a famous Viennese dessert: two layers of chocolate cake separated by a thin layer of apricot jam). It was delicious, but the tiramisu was the best.

Ultimately, Vienna was beautiful, clean, and very, very expensive. I want to go back to see an opera (I feel like since the city is only three hours away, I must) but apparently they don’t allow you in unless you’re wearing fur. I guess I’ve got some shopping to do!

Krakow

I had no expectations about Krkaow whatsoever. Actually, I was looking forward to our Poland trip the least of all our trips this semester, mostly because we were also going to visit Auschwitz. But Krakow turned out to be my favorite city so far!

It’s a nine hour bus ride from Budapest to Krakow, which sounds daunting, but it wasn’t too bad. We made a stop at a beautiful ski resort in Slovakia and had lunch, and we were actually in Krakow by three. In comparison to the other cities I’ve visited, Krakow can be described like this: almost as clean as Vienna, almost as offbeat as Budapest, and almost as friendly-ish as Rome. IE: amazing. It was actually sunny when we arrived, and seeing as the only time I’d seen in the sun in Europe was in Rome, this delighted me. Our hotel (that’s right, a hotel, not a hostel) was minutes away from the main touristy shopping street and arguably the most famous destination in Krakow: St. Mary’s Basilica (which has a really cool history that I’ll explain later.)

The first day we were there we kind of just relaxed, ambling down the main tourist drag. We changed our money to the Polish zloty and ate peirogis – dumplings, Poland’s traditional food. In the main square there was this open-air building filled with stalls where you could buy all sorts of touristy and non-touristy items: key chains, t-shirts, jewelry, furs, pipes, leather, glass – basically anything you could possibly want. The set up was much classier than Rome’s typical tourist shops (which are really just blankets laid on the ground showing knock-off Prada purses). And also better than Rome, the exchange rate is fantastic.

That night we ate dinner at this incredibly strange restaurant. It was in the basement of a building that was attached to some sort of government building, so it took us a while to find it. It was called Grandma’s something, and it was decorated with cribs, dolls, stuffed animals (mostly cats), and boxing memorabilia. I kid you not. The food was amazing – I had salmon and some of my friend’s sweet cheese peirogis, which were delicious. After dinner we roamed the city for a bit, and it was amazing how many different languages we could hear. At one point I really wanted to follow this group of British teenagers (one of them actually said, “I knew I should’ve worn my thermals!”) just to listen to their accents, but my friends stopped me. There were lots of French people, and we met some really nice Irish kids the second night (but only for a couple minutes). We ran into them outside a club where I witnessed my first fight: two guys came stumbling out the door, kind of just pushing eachother around, and then one took a hold of the other’s neck and sort of just placed him on the ground, strangling him and sitting on him. (One of the kids we were with said, “In Ireland, people would be out here watching this with hamburgers by now.” It was hilarious.) I think the reason there were so many young people must’ve been because of the exchange rate. If the dollar-zloty exchange rate was so good, I can only imagine what the euro-zloty exchange rate is like.

The second day was our city tour, led by one of our Hungarian professors who’d been to Krakow many times. Krakow, though not the capital of Poland, is its historical center. Apparently during World War II just about everything of historical value in Warsaw was bombed, while Krakow was saved. On the tour we saw around three synagogues (though Poland’s Jewish population is currently very small) and a couple Catholic churches. One particular synagogue was actually converted into a museum, and it had the most well-written English explanations I’d seen since I’ve been here, which made me very happy.

The final church we visited was inside the Krakow fortress, which is on a hill on top of the city. The church was probably the single most ornate church I’ve ever been in, surpassing even St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican (though it’s definitely not as big as the basilica). The church was actually guarded by people (teenagers, for whatever reason) dressed in monk’s robes, who didn’t allow you to go in certain parts, take pictures, or touch things. It contained the tombs of ancient Polish kings, multiple large crucifixes, and there was even a vault where Chopin’s grave was located. It was gorgeous, but almost overbearingly so. Nonetheless, it might be my favorite church.

Krakow has a great history involving a dragon, but I can’t do justice to the story here – you’ll just have to look it up, or better yet, visit Poland yourself. I will say that even though I love Budapest with all my heart, Poland is by far my favorite city we’ve visited this semester, and I definitely want to go back with my family some day. I think Krakow was my favorite city because, as strange as it sounds, it kind of reminded me of home: the city has lots of green spaces, isn’t terribly crowded, and is a medium-sized city of about 800,000 people. Obviously, it has the advantage of being at least 900 years older than Kansas City, so it is a bit cooler, but the way it was set up just made me feel more calm than I’ve felt in Budapest.

On our last day in Poland we took a three hour bus ride to Auschwitz. I don’t want to go into too many details here; it was an incredibly depressing experience. It’s difficult to read about something, to see numbers like “1,300,000 people were killed at Auschwitz” and to actually comprehend what that sentence means. We saw rooms filled with eyeglasses, suitcases, shoes, pots and pans, even a horrible room containing human hair. One room was basically just murals of starved women and children. The worst part for me was one hallway lined with pictures. Under each picture was the name of the person, their date of birth, their occupation, the day they entered Auschwitz, and they day they died. Seeing a picture of a strong man and reading a description like “Hebrew teacher. November 12 – November 15 1943” was the worst part for me.

Here are the pictures from Auschwitz.

The gate in front of Auschwitz I. "Work will set you free."

Barbed wire fence in front of Auschwitz-Birkenau.

Plaque at Auschwitz-Birkeanu. Translated into 22 different languages.

Hello from Hungary!

I had all these fantastic plans for writing an amazing blog chronicling every day of my time in Europe, but something happened today that made me say, “Forget about it. This is too perfect. Just write.”

Just to make sure everyone knows the basics though, here’s an introduction:

This semester I am studying at Pazmany Peter Catholic University in Pest, Budapest, Hungary. I am currently enrolled in seven classes and an internship, but I’m going to have to drop a couple if I don’t to go over on the number of credits I can take. My classes are only three days a week, but I’m basically in the same classroom from 9-5. I am taking Architecture, Basic Hungarian, Contemporary Culture, Contemporary Issues, Central European Literature, Central European Cinema, and Humanitarian Law.

I’m living in a very modern “aparthotel,” which must’ve been built in the past couple of years. So far I have met three Japanese girls and four late-30s guys most likely from Australia (all in passing). My favorite moment so far in this complex though was when an older, middle-aged man, most likely a native Hungarian, noticed Siiri and I talking in English and said very, very politely, and with not a little effort, “Please.” I could tell that he struggled to say the word (let’s just say that Hungarian and English can be VERY different – on the first day of class, my Hungarian language professor said “It’s almost impossible. I feel really bad for you guys, I do.”) and the fact that someone else attempted to speak my language just to be polite and offer to let us out of the elevator first made me so, so happy.

Anyway, back to what happened today: in my film class, which is actually called “The Transition of Central Europe in the Light of Films,” we watched the movie Underground, directed by Emir Kusturica. It was over three hours of soul-shaking depression, with an occasional comedic moment. The film basically described the history of Yugoslavia from the end of World War II until 1998 (one of the two main characters imprisoned a number of people {including his best friend and his brother; he also stole his best friend’s love} in a basement for 20 years so that he could use them basically as slaves to produce weapons for the other ongoing wars; he kept them under the delusion that WWII was actually going on the whole time). The whole thing made me want to cry for the people who suffered such atrocities, but also because…

We have it SO lucky in America, and we don’t even know it.

Really.

This thought entered my head a while back, actually; one of the first few days I was here. So much of the culture and life here is influenced by the US. Most everything here is said or written in Hungarian, but when it is translated to another language it’s in English, and sometimes German as well. It’s interesting because sometimes the loudspeakers on the Metro/tram/bus will repeat directions in English, but sometimes they won’t; some signs will contain an English translation, but most don’t; and the same goes for restaurants, stores, and bars.

One place in particular caters to international students/residents in Budapest on Monday nights, and it sets aside a room for karaoke. Almost all of the songs available are sung by American artists. Siiri and I also went to, what by American standards would be considered a fancy restaurant, and sat down to eat, only to be greeted by MJ’s “Beat It”. In a fancy restaurant! I couldn’t believe it.

Hungary was only escaped from communism 22 years ago. To me, it seems like the citizens of Budapest still haven’t discovered the freedom to choose whatever color you want to wear. Whenever I use the (incredibly excellent) public transportation here, I’m always slightly disappointed in the lack of variety in people’s outfit colors: black, grey, brown; sometimes beige and sometimes purple. Fortunately I brought two black and one grey coat, so I fit right in.

Anyway, back to the point of this post: we are SO ridiculously lucky to be Americans. If I were any other nationality and living in this city, I would feel absolutely, completely lost. Yes, by now most people do speak English (or at least, most students); however, the extent to which the American culture has infiltrated Hungarian culture is so great that I really (though I’ve only been here two weeks)don’t think I’ll get too much of a chance to miss it (the Internet helps with that too, of course.)

I only truly appreciated the extent of the American impact on Hungarian culture when I entered …

The mall.

The first words out of my mouth to Siiri were, “Wow. We’re back in the States.” The mall was three floors and looked like it went on for miles; just from the main entrance I could already see Puma, Columbia, and Guess; in the food court there was (of course) both a McDonalds and a Burger King. It must be the largest mall in all of Budapest, and it leaves the malls I’ve seen in Kansas City and St. Louis far, far behind.

Like in America, there was plenty of seating for non-shoppers to utilize while they wait. But unlike in America, every single chair was either occupied by a man or a couple. I thought it was hilarious; grumpy old men and punk-rock teenage boys sat side by side waiting for their partners to emerge from the store. I can’t even remember the last time I saw that in America.

The other difference was the bottom level of the mall; it began as a food court and then turned into a less classy, haggling-encouraging floor lined with small shops. This was what I had expected European shopping to be like based on my trip to Italy and Greece; lots of small vendors with misspelled signs. Siiri and I were even approached by a lady attempting to sell Gucci wallet knock-offs from her purse (something I never expected to happen inside of a mall, especially a classy mall with a real Gucci store a couple levels above our heads.) It was down on this level that I saw a woman, shouting frantically in Hungarian, in an alley (yes, there was a weird sort of alley that must’ve led to an exit) get slammed against two metal doors by a man in a hooded-shirt. A couple people stopped and I think someone tried to help, but I was so shocked (I have never seen anything like this in the US) that I didn’t know what to do.

Ultimately, Hungary thus far had been amazing and incredibly interesting. I’m going to Rome this Thursday with two other SLU students and four people from the University of San Francisco (the other, and actually the first university to partner with Pazmany) and I’m really incredibly excited to go for my second time. Right now Siiri’s trying to talk to me about our travel arrangements for the rest of the semester, so I must go.

Love to you all,

Mary Lee

(ps: Congrats if you read all 1100 words!)