This post is an
attempt to encapsulate all of the things I’ve done in the last two weeks. In
short, I’ve been to six countries via at least five types of transportation,
met up with both high school and college friends, seen an overwhelming number
of pretty things, and eaten far too many foods containing cheese. In it you
will find descriptions, lists, pictures, quotes, etc. and
will probably notice themes such as: ornately decorated buildings, cheap local
cuisine, rivers and canals, beer, and the importance of sunshine. In short,
it’s sort of like the way a walking tour guide described the red light district
in Amsterdam: there’s something for everyone.
Amsterdam: a few
of my favorite things
I had the pleasure
of visiting this lovely city with the delightfully quirky and subtly hilarious Miss
Ivonne Arias:
 |
| What I always tell people about Ivonne is that she has the best deadpan sense of humour I’ve ever encountered. She also has a lovely smile. |
The best thing
about Amsterdam: biking along the canals in the glorious, glorious sunshine.
Other highly enjoyable things included: an overabundance of samples in each of
the many cheese shops, a museum dedicated entirely to art depicting cats, Van
Gogh (of course), and basking in a noticeably laid-back atmosphere that is
unusual and something I’ve personally never encountered in a capital city
before. I also discovered two things I didn’t know I liked: freshly-made (that
part is important) stroopwafel and Dutch people.
Quote of the
weekend: (during a leisurely nighttime stroll through the red light district)
“Finally, an honest massage parlour.” –I. Arias
 |
| surreptitious selfies |
 |
| seesaw |
 |
| being 'unconventional' |
 |
| butts on sticks |
 |
| food porn |
 |
| flea market |
 |
| literally the best thing ever |
Budapest:
‘travelling alone’
My original plan
to travel by myself was somewhat ‘spoilt’ by Monsieur Benjamin West who,
at the last minute, decided to join me in Vienna and Prague. Much as I had been
excited at the prospect of pretending to be a grown-up, this came as a relief
because not only do I like Ben a lot, being alone in a foreign country can be lonely and bewildering, especially once the sun goes down. Luckily for me, my trip to the
only city in which I was on my own coincided with a friend’s, so I was able to
do whatever I pleased during the day and meet up with Katrina Rochlin & Co.
at night.
After a brief
layover in Warsaw, I arrived in Budapest in the early afternoon and hopped on a
bus and then a train from the airport to the city center, both of which looked
rather dirty and run-down, which I used as justification for not buying a
ticket. (Kidding, I had been told by a friend prior to my trip that no one
checks, and I had the backup plan of acting like being a stupid
American). I staggered out of the subway station in the somewhat stupefying
heat, already regretting my choice of luggage: a flimsy-looking cloth patchwork
bag my parents bought in Bali …which has no wheels. The outline of the green
Liberty Bridge loomed ahead in the hazy sunlight, people bustled around me,
cars zoomed passed, and this sentence is starting to get cheesier than
Hungarian desserts so I’m going to cut it off there. I only passed my hostel
three times before finding it, but the tucked away and cozy little Goat Hostel
was absolutely perfect in its inconspicuousness.
The next two days
were filled with wandering crowded streets, craning up at elaborately adorned
architecture, crossing bridges, climbing hills to gorgeous views, salivating at
market stalls offering all manner of delicious foods, and enjoying the sound of
the Hungarian language. Though I failed miserably at going out during this
trip, I did go to Szimpla, which according to Lonely Planet it’s the third best
bar in the world. It reminded me somewhat of the bar on the roof of CZ,
only it was thirty times bigger and ten times cooler. I didn’t bring my camera
but you can find pictures by Google imaging ‘szimpla kert.’ Here’s a sampling
of some pictures I did take, but I can promise that they don’t do the city
justice:
 |
| central market |
 |
| St. Stephen's basilica |
 |
| Fisherman's Bastion |
 |
| goulash and spaetzle |
 |
| Hero's Square |
 |
| mulled wine |
 |
| goat hostel |
 |
| subtle |
 |
| made in front of you and not unexpectedly delicious |
Vienna: “expensive
as rape”
I would include a
disclaimer about the title but honestly, if you’re already offended we’re
probably not friends. In any case, I’m not the one who said it. That credit it
owed to the ever-hilarious Ben West, who I already mentioned decided to crash
my trip after having his plans to visit Munich upended. To avoid being too
long-winded, I’ll keep my comments on Austria short: it was very pretty, there
were grand buildings and fountains, museums galore (this is much more my thing
than Ben’s, and as I was excited about art but less excited about paying
exorbitant amounts of money, we only ended up visiting one), and wonderful
Viennese cafes, but as the title suggests, it was not the most affordable city
and we consequently spent most of our time wandering and talking, which
resulted in almost an entire day of Ben attempting to teach me French. This
turned out to be one of the best parts of the trip, followed by Viennese coffee
(called a wiener mélange), a
lovely view of the city from the top of the Schönbrunn Palace grounds, and the
best hostel I’ve stayed in where we met a lovely Australian girl and an
American girl who Ben aptly described as “not understanding that a conversation
can be frivolous and that each topic does not need to be explored in all of its
profundity.” In conclusion, I would go back to Vienna if in the future I
somehow end up obscenely wealthy and wouldn’t bat an eye at dropping a lot of
money on a fancy hotel and spending the days in and out of museums and
luxurious coffee houses.




we ate ice cream once a day...
 |
| Naschmarkt |
 |
| at the Chamaleon Cafe, just down the street from Mozart's house |
 |
| vanity |
 |
| National Library |
 |
| talk about bookshelf porn... |
 |
| that's me, the colorful speck on the steps |
 |
| Schönbrunn |
 |
| French lessons |
Prague: literally
a fairytale
Prague is
unbelievably beautiful. That wasn’t just a figure of speech – I could not
entirely wrap my head around the existence of this city as an actual capital
with a history and normal people living in it. I was half convinced that it was
secretly a very cleverly disguised amusement park based on some Disney movie
with a castle.
Ben and I spent
the entire first day gaping at the narrow cobblestone streets, the so-far-past-pretty-it’s-ridiculous
buildings, the I’m-running-out-of-synonyms-for-gorgeous waterfront crowded with
tourists, and the views of the red rooftops from the lush green terraces of the
castle, all while saying over and over again to each other things like “let’s
live here” and “holy balls.” (Obviously I was the one who said holy balls – Ben
would never) This is a case in which pictures are decidedly worth so much more
than words, and even those aren’t adequate.
 |
| first meal: Czech goulash and dumplings |
I repeated this same experience of dazedly dawdling around Charles Bridge and the surrounding area with Kate two days later – though this time the sun was setting and the swaths of pink and purple that seemed to radiate from behind the hill made it even more magical…as if that were possible. Preceding this we had spent the afternoon sitting on the Old Town Square with fresh berries and beer in the glorious, glorious sunshine. I should probably emphasize the fact that warmth played a significant role in my overall happiness because not needing a coat is an entirely foreign concept to me at this point. Visits to the Kafka museum and a Dali and Alfonse Mucha exhibit only added to the general magnificence.
 |
| Dali |
 |
| more of these |
 |
| Jewish Quarter |
Berlin: somewhat burnt out
I’m finding it funny that this was the point in my trip where I mostly stopped caring about putting effort into SEEINGALLOFTHETHINGS just as it is the point in this blog post where I’ve stopped caring about describing all of the things.
SO. Briefly: it was delightful to see Ellen (one of my favorite people/housemates from Berkeley), it was refreshing to be staying in a spacious apartment (which allowed me to have leisurely mornings and not feel bad about leaving the house after 9), it was sublime to be able to cook vegetables in a real kitchen, and it was thuper duper awesome to have so much history/culture/cheap beer at my weary fingertips. The only downsides were that Ellen had a lot of class and that it is not only challenging to find places but also takes forever to get anywhere and resultantly I spent at least a third of my time on public transit. From my limited experience there, my favorite district of Berlin is Kreuzberg (hipsters, Turkish people, amazing street art). My last afternoon was spent biking around with Ellen, waiting in line with a beer at Mustafa’s (best doner kebap ever – there’s a reason the line is always at least half an hour), and of course, contributing to the street art of Berlin (see iamtitman.com).
Brussels
At this point I was entirely done with obsessively making lists of things to do each day, looking up directions, reading reviews, and generally being neurotic. Upon my arrival in Belgium I had a single plan: to eat chocolate. So the fact that I ended up doing more than that felt like an accomplishment. I arrived at 6am on a bus and by the time I got to the city center and spent an hour not being able to find the hotel, it was almost 8 and there were STILL people clubbing. It was actually disgusting. If real people are getting up and starting their days and you haven’t gone to bed there is no excuse for not feeling like shit.
I was again reunited with my two high school partners in crime (and by crime I mean newspaper writing?), Ken and Bate, and for the most part we just hung around the main tourist center, which consisted of La Grand Place and its surrounding streets, all of which were jam-packed with waffle shops, chocolatiers, more ornately decorated buildings (surprised that I wasn’t sick of them yet?), and Asian tourists.
On Sunday Kate and I went to the best flea market ever (old things, cheap things, vintage things, nifty things, all of the things). Afterwards we got a plate of mussels from a stand, which was both affordable and delicious.
In addition to the headquarters for numerous European organizations, Brussels boasts many excellent (though unfortunately expensive) varieties of beer and a surprising number of gay bars. Really though, the best part was spending time with both Ben and Kate, because that hasn’t happened in person since (I believe…) high school. Skype just doesn’t cut it.
 |
| Kate with her school mascot |
 |
| Earl grey ganache. Thank god I don't live in Brussels. |
 |
| shitty picture, excellent beer |
 |
| didn't go inside but I like their advertising aesthetic |
 |
| at the comic strip museum |
 |
| adorable little fuckers... |
 |
| cherry beer |
 |
| umm... |
 |
| and there were pansies in every planter box |
 |
| cute setting? nay so much. cute picture? yeah, okay |
 |
| this had to be taken...you know, for posterity |
 |
| and more street art |
 |
| if only I knew things about cameras... |
 |
| noticing a trend? I promise it's not a foot fetish... |
 |
| my new idol? |
At the hostel in
Vienna I met a number of individuals who had been traveling for months on end.
One had been on the road for a year. I don’t understand this and am undecided
on whether it is an ability I would like to acquire (the ability being the capacity to enjoy myself despite so much disorientation). Though I am very sad that
my adventures are over for now, I was also nearing the point of exhaustion that
coincides with apathy after just a week and a half of changing cities every two
to three days. As I lugged my stupid, stupid wheel-less bag towards the
Brussels train station, I remember reveling in the beauty of my surroundings
while simultaneously thinking ‘I am definitely ready to go home.’