Amsterdam.

Amsterdam is a living city. It's unassumingly lovely, chock full of intriguing nooks and watering holes for the artistically-minded. I wouldn't have guessed it before going, but it was definitely my favorite city on the trip. I mentioned this in some previous posts, but while a lot of cities we visited are postcard pretty, they feel almost unreal in their touristy glamour. Amsterdam is not like that; real people are going about their day, and if you get in the way while ogling some attraction, you'll get hit by a bike. It's refreshing and very real. And since it was my favorite place, I have a lot to say about it. Settle in for a long one.

FOOD

I ate a lot of pretty things in Amsterdam. My standard joke became that even though I was presented with such increased legality, my drug of choice was still cheese.

2 Nights in London.

After two weeks tramping through Eastern Europe, it was incredible to be back in a place where we could read the street signs. And when we got off our bus at Victoria Coach Station, I didn't need a map. I just knew where we were, thanks to my time studying abroad. It was one of the best and most surreal feelings of my life.

48 Hours in Bruges.

I hated the movie. Let's just get that out in the open. I didn't think it was funny, and I did the the violence was gratuitous and weird. Granted, I was a sophomore in high school when I watched it so maybe my feelings would change if I watched it again, but I was not going to Bruges with the mind to trace Colin Farrell's footsteps.

I mentioned before how I think walking tours are great. Nerdy and touristy, but also really helpful to kind of shake hands with a city and get oriented before you start wandering around blindly on your own. So when K and I arrived for our 48 hours in Bruges after another overnight bus, and it was raining and cold, we still decided to brave it out and take the tour. OH MAN. What a simultaneously great and terrible idea. We were frozen and crabby by the halfway mark, and skipped out on the end, but we also got the most comedic mileage out of this tour guide than from anything else on the trip. This guy was a character. A Real Character. (Eh?) His style was basically swearing, sex jokes, talking about the movie, and lies about architecture that he then followed up by a "Just kidding!" and moved on to the next location. But he did tell us about the place to get the best chocolate in town, so kudos there. At the time, we didn't feel too bad not giving him a tip, but then we proceeded to run into him a couple more times before we left. Bruges is small, you guys.

Kutná Hora.

Full disclosure: I kind of like morbid things. Of course it kind of depends on the situation, but if I can get a little macabre in my day, so much the better. When K and I were planning our trip last fall, I found some info on this chapel called The Sedlec Ossuary, or the Bone Church, because the entire thing was decorated in human bones. Whaaat? I immediately used this information as a discussion post for one of my history classes, and researched how to get there when we arrived in the Czech Republic.

The Bone Church has a pretty cool history. In the 13th century, a monk from Sedlec went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and brought back a small jar of dirt which he sprinkled on the cemetery ground. After news of this got around, people from all over wanted to be buried there, as they'd officially be counted as laid to rest in holy ground. The plagues hit, and the cemetery had to be expanded and expanded again, with bodies being buried in layers on top of one another. There just wasn't enough room. Finally, many of the bones were removed and placed in the basement of the chapel, where they stayed until 1870 when the Schwarzenburg family, who now owned the land, hired a woodcarver named Frantisek Rint to arrange the bones artistically. He ran with that instruction, and now the ossuary is an oddity all on its own.

Prague.

We spent a week in Prague, making it the longest leg of the trip, and also the place we stopped over Christmas. It's also home to the nicest and cheapest hostel I've ever stayed in. We had painted ceilings, heated floors, and hairdryers in the bathroom for about $15 a night. It was crazy.

Since we were there such a comparatively long time, it's hard to know where to even begin with a "city guide." Instead, I'll just mention some of the places and things that burn the brightest in my memory. I have to say, get yourself a city map and do the touristy things. Check out the Astronomical Clock, walk around the Jewish Quarter, explore St. Vitus and the castle. Taking a walking tour might not seem thrilling at first, but I've found that it's a good way to orient yourself to a city, learn where things are and a little history about the place. It's a good foundation to start your exploring on. Prague's Old Town might actually be the most touristy place I've ever been, and every day a slew of companies doing free walking tours depart from Old Town Square. We did the Sandeman's tour, the company with the red umbrella, and really enjoyed it. But you don't need me to tell you about the big obvious things, so let me tell you about the little ones we did.

Warsaw.

Poland was kind of an accident in our travel plans: we were going from Vilnius to Prague and the cheapest way was to bus with a stop in Warsaw. We spend about 16 hours in the city, bookended by two overnight buses, so this was definitely our most difficult day of travel. We were kind of dirty and cold, but we saw so many beautiful things that we didn't regret our choice.

We did end up hanging around in the train station for a chunk of the dark hours, but when we ventured out we found some gems. The first place we headed was my favorite: Lazienki Park. It's a huge stretch of greenery in the center of the city, interspersed with ponds and statues and little footbridges. It even houses a palace and an art gallery. I was genuinely amazed, and felt like I was wandering around in Narnia, helped along a bit by the faun lampposts. My favorite favorite was this open air theatre we stumbled across, built to look like a classical ruin. You can't entirely tell from the picture, but it was in the lagoon. It was separated from the seats by a narrow strip of water. I was nearly salivating at the thought of performing there on warm summer nights, surrounded by the swans and stars. Ugh! So cool!
 

Vilnius.

I mentioned last week how my buddy Kaitlyn and I took a massive adventure over our winter break. The grand journey began in Vilnius; we were staying with some family friends.
If you had asked me the capitol city of Lithuania before this trip, I certainly wouldn't have been able to tell you. That's one of the biggest things I took away from traveling this time around: there's so much I don't know. The top of that list is languages. I have found that being an English speaker allows you pretty wide freedom while traveling (in Europe especially), because most people speak it, but think about what that means. In Belgium, almost everyone I met spoke at least French, Dutch, and English. That's insane, coming from a place where it's not expected that you know more than one language. I'm about to graduate from college, and most of the Spanish I've learned is already faded, having been sacrificed for other pursuits. Traveling is such an eye-opener to priorities in different parts of the world, and how different those priorities can be from the ones we assume at home.

Backpacks, boots, and a big wide world.

Over winter break, my dear friend Kaitlyn and I went backpacking through Europe.
It still seems so weird that I can actually say I've done that now. I can really put that tick on my bucket list. Granted, I'll be wanting to do it again, but I'll put the first tally there for now.
We had a pretty ambitious list: we were gone for three and half weeks, starting in Lithuania and ending in Amsterdam.

Kaitlyn and I are lucky to have pretty well aligned travel goals:
1) Eat good food.
2) See great art.
3) Meet cool people.
4) Do it on the cheap.

I'm extremely serious about that last one. My experience has shown that if you are willing to sacrifice some comfort, it's totally possible to see the world in a clean, safe, and exciting way without spending a lot of money. So though my perspective is limited in terms of luxury, I can tell you a lot about the pros and cons of hostels, eating at a mix of grocery stores and restaurants, and finding the good museums, book stores, and souvenirs that aren't lame. If you're into traveling with similar interests, please feel free to follow along!

In motion.

Here's a shaky little video I made when I got back from the UK. I think the world sometimes feels different, or at least a little more real, when it's captured in motion as opposed to in pictures. This might feel a little too real because of my shaky hands, but it makes me feel like I'm back in this place that I love, so I can watch it without nausea.

Town with character.

One of the other really fun parts of my visit to Stratford-upon-Avon was spotting all the Shakespeare references that lurked in store windows and street signs, etc. Obviously this little city is proud of their most famous resident, and names his work is present around every corner.

The Shakespeare Houses.

My trip to Stratford-upon-Avon back in November was a borderline spiritual experience, similar to my first glimpse of the Globe in London. When I arrived I had two plans: see a show at the RSC and go to Shakespeare's house. I got off the train on a Tuesday afternoon and made the short walk to my accommodation at the Arden Park Guest House, got myself some dinner from Tesco, and explored the town a little before settling in to watch some episodes of Downton Abbey before I got ready for the play. By this time of year it had already started to get dark fairly early in the evening, and as I'd already figured out the path I intended to walk to the RSC theatre, I didn't feel comfortable gallivanting around too much in the darkness, for all that Stratford is a pretty quiet town.
The show I had a ticket to see (a five pound ticket, thank you RSC youth promotions!) was Antony & Cleopatra, a story I knew only vaguely and had never seen done before. I went in with average expectations despite my excitement to be at the RSC, and left with a tear on my cheek and awe in my heart. Keeping up with their reputation, the production was innovative and gut-wrenching, even when you know how it's going to end. I left the theatre feeling very lucky and excited to continue studying these old words I'm continuing to learn about.
The next morning I was up early and on my way to the four Shakespeare houses I had purchased a pass to see, beginning with the Anne Hathaway cottage. It was a lovely morning and there were many pretty things to see, but as I'd been doing so much solo traveling I was starting to feel a little bit lonely. I actually arrived at the cottage a few minutes before they opened for the day, so I crossed the street and sat on a bench next to a lovely little creek alongside the oddly placed field of grazing sheep. (I mean, I was on my way out of town, but I still wasn't expecting sheep in someone's backyard inside the city limits.) I'd only been there for two or three minutes when the sweet brown tabby in the above picture came trotting along and kept me company for a good quarter of an hour. She was eager for some affection and cheered me up considerably. The rest of the day way spent visiting the birthplace, Nash's House and Hall's croft. All of them contained bits of the story of his life, and were interesting to think about either him or his relatives and the footsteps they left on the floorboards. I finished my day with a trip to the church where Shakespeare is buried, and I stood in the nave and just tried to soak everything in. It made me rather sad to see a church turned into such a commercial center, but it was a special experience in spite of all the camera flashes and selling of trinkets.
I felt so incredibly lucky to stand and see the places where my favorite man was born and baptized. The next class I take or teach about him will be all the more textured for the experience.

Bits and pieces.

I'm struggling under the weight of my papers over here, so I don't have time to write out a full post. In the meantime I'll just share these little details that continue to make my time here so enjoyable.

The Third Morning.

My last morning in Scotland. I packed up my backpack, which by now seemed particularly heavy, and checked out of my hostel, waving a metaphorical goodbye to the five French men, seeing as we weren't really on speaking terms. My plan for the day: climb Arthur's Seat.
I'd never thought of Edinburgh as a city of volcanoes prior to arriving there, but once I stepped out of the train station on the first day, it was difficult to do otherwise. The huge old structures dominate the landscape no matter where you look, not the least of which being the impressive castle towering above the rest of the city from its perch on the cliff. Arthur's Seat is the other big old volcano, and apparently climbing it is a mark of a true local, so now that I've done it, I'm basically Scottish. No paperwork required. My walk started out pretty well. I was armed with my water bottle and the remains of my bottle of Irn Bru, firmly placed in the pockets of my backpack. In fact, my backpack and I were doing pretty well, working symbiotically, until about halfway up the side of this mini-mountain.
 Let me describe to you the wind on this clear morning: have you ever accidentally walked into a glass door? Full on, regular speed, face mark on the glass. Imagine what it would feel like to have a glass door walk into you, and you've got an approximation of the gusts of wind I was experiencing at this great height. So here I am, in the gale, teetering on the edge of this cliff, with a huge turtle-like backpack threatening to aid the wind in tipping me over. I had real fear for my life and considered turning back several times. I was alone! I could lie about making it to the top and no one would know the difference. I made it almost all the way, sitting down occasionally to regain my balance, until the last bit of height, which was a final rocky outcropping jutting up from the ground about 50 feet. I got about five steps up the side of this mini-mountain on the mountain, and thought "That's it. I'm ditching this thing [my backpack]. If someone wants to steal it, I invite them to carry it all the way back down." I may have given other hikers the impression that I'd left a bomb on the side of the cliff, so obviously it was there by the time I got back down. Without the weight of my backpack, I scrambled to the top with relative ease, had some nice man take my picture of proof, and took a few minutes to soak in the wind and the views, thinking that this would be a plausible place for King Arthur to have found Excalibur.
On my way down, I made the unwelcome discovery that I'd split the sole of my boot right down the middle. So the wetness my right foot was experiencing made more sense, seeing that I essentially had no protection between the bottom of my foot and the mud. They'd served me well for a short time, but in the end my adventures were simply too great for my shoes.
The rest of the morning was spent perusing shops and small museums on the Royal Mile, before making my way over to have some haggis for lunch. The verdict was a positive one. Then it was time for my train home, so I walked back to Waverley Station and found my platform to make my way back to the sweet city of Canterbury.