It's good to be home!

After 20 hours in trans-Atlantic transit, I felt like my whole body sighed a great sigh of relief as I walked through the exit doors of Dulles. It was so good to be home. And then when I spotted my Mom, and then Dad, and Steven, and the puppies, all waiting for me, I think my whole body smiled so much that a few salty, exhausted tears squeezed themselves out too. My day had started at 2:15 AM, when I woke up for my 3 AM airport transfer. I was in the Madrid Airport by 4 AM, flew in to Amsterdam around 9 AM, and then amused myself in the duty-free shops and an airport cafe until 12:30 PM. My 8 hour flight would've been great, except the petite college girl sitting next to me traded seats with one of the biggest men I've ever seen in my life- 6'4 and 350lbs. He took up his seat, and half of mine.

Without the time zone change, I landed around 9:40 PM, but then spent the next hour standing in line for Customs. It took another 5 frantic minutes to locate my luggage as I'd been waiting in line so long that they had pulled everything off of the carousel and scattered them all about. By 11:30 PM I was finally home, although now it was 5:30 PM. It really wasn't that bad, but I was physically and mentally exhausted.

I can't even begin to say how nice it is to be home. I am so utterly content to sit on our couch and do absolutely nothing but think about how happy I am. I've had a wonderful Christmas, and in the next day or two I'll add a few stories and pictures from my last leg in Madrid. More importantly though, I want to thank each and every one of you for reading and humoring the last four months of my life. You (all) have been the motivation behind every time I've sat down and written a blog. Of course I've written it for myself as well, but I've written it well for you. And I appreciate that, because now I've got this fantastic collection of memories and stories that I will be forever thankful for composing. I would also like to add that despite my many references to alcoholic beverages, late nights out, and weekends spent gallivanting across Europe, I still managed to pull a 4.0 GPA for the semester. Yes, I did have a great time, but I also worked hard and studied. It's just that that sort of stuff is rather dry and boring compared to the Eiffel tower or the Austrian Alps, as you can imagine.

Now, I shall resume my Unpacking regime. Merry Christmas!

Tres Abuelas ("Three Grandmothers")

Despite the fact that I seem to be falling apart faster than our old Dodge Caravan, I've found it somewhere inside me to make some room in my heart for Valencia. It is the third-largest city in Spain with about 800,000 residents, and has a wonderfully mild character. It's more than just a sleepy Mediterranean town though. With history dating back over 2,000 years, it began as a Roman port city. Although the Roman walls are now gone, one can still wander the quaint and twisty alleys of the Old Town. Interestingly enough, 10 minutes away one can find one of the most modern architectural feats in all of Europe-- La Ciudad de Artes y Ciencias. And then if you go another 5 minutes from that, you've got beautiful beaches and some of the best paella in toda de Espana (all of Spain). There's so many faces to this city, and they all seem to fit just right.

As it worked out, I had checked the weather for Valencia the night we arrived, and learned that it was supposed to be rainy both days, but less so on Wednesday. So, we woke up Wednesday morning and were quite pleased to see that it was overcast, but not raining, and decided to spend the day exploring the Old City. We started with the Tourist Office, and were promptly armed with a map the size of a small Amish quilt. It proved to be much more helpful than the staff at the Office though, and so we continued on our way to the Museo Taurino- The Bullring Museum. I really enjoyed the exhibit; it was simple, but well done. The ring itself is pictured above, although in Valencia there are only bullfights three months out of the year, held during certain important festivals. Personally, I don't agree with it, but I still respect it as an important aspect of Spanish culture.

From there, we meandered along into the heart of the city. We stopped to peek into the Central Post Office, which is a spectacular building; beautiful arches and columns and a stained glass dome ceiling. And then onwards to the Cathedral, nestled in the heart of the city. We climbed to the top of the bell-tower, which really ought to be advertised as the best way to burn off the day's Menu del Dia because even I, spry little thing that I am, was feeling the burn as I fell up the last few steps onto the turret. The view was great- from the Mountains to the Gulf- and all of the little rooftops with morning underwear hung out to dry.


The central market in the Old Town was quite similar to the one in Budapest- a grand open-air building with lots of vendors selling fresh wares. It was all fine and dandy until we saw a man packing the leftover deer legs-- hoof included-- into the back of his small sedan. The weather was still holding out for us, though looking ever more ominous, and so we continued on, now in a pedestrianized pursuit of food. If you haven't noticed, I love the "Menu del Dia" that seems to be everywhere here. We eventually found a nice little bistro with food that we could roughly translate to as appealing, and both ordered the Valencian paella, which came from the dish as pictured. The word "paella" actually means pan, and generally speaking it's a rice dish with either surf, or turf, but not both. The key ingredient is saffron, and you know it's Valencian because it will have delicious crispy bits that come from the bottom or the edges of the dish.


After our late lunch, it still had not begun to rain, so we ventured off to the Modern Art Museum. Though the exterior of the building looked like a Soviet bunker, the interior was significantly nicer. Even though I don't always "get" modern art, I love how it makes me feel. There's this sense of childlike wonder that I get from looking at pictures that resemble my scribbles in Kindergarten; but the sophistication of their nature is what really draws me in. In one exhibit, the artist, Jaume Plensa, chose to explore the use of letters as art-- strung across each room was a "wall" of metal letters dangling down like an alphabetical windchime through which you had to walk through to get to the next. Just beautiful, really.

I believe at this point, we were both so tired from all of the food and walking that we worked our way back to the hotel. The evening was so warm and balmy that we took a seat on a bench in the central plaza and simply sat and relaxed, watching the palms sway and the clouds of the deepest azul you can imagine tumble along the skyline.


We certainly picked the right day to do things because this morning we woke up to a grey sky and intermittent rain. Our plan was to go to the City of Arts and Sciences and spend the better part of the day at L'Oceanografia-- the aquarium. For as small as the city feels, it's rather big to walk everywhere, so we took the bus. This is where the title comes from, because on the bus we were both looking at our map the size of an Amish quilt, trying to figure out where to get off, and while doing so a little abuela "Grandma" sitting behind us tells us we have a few more stops to go. Then another little abuela says that it is a lovely place, and we still have a few more stops, but see over there-- that's the Arts Building! And as the first abuela is getting off, another abuela tells us in broken English that it's just around the bend, "solo otra mas" or "one more stop." Here we are, American tourists speaking Spanish that probably sounds like nails grinding down a blackboard, and we have three Grandma's all making sure that we get to where we need to go. I love it! Que bueno!



I think I read somewhere that the new aquarium here is the third largest in Europe; maybe the world, but my memory is fuzzy. The Oceanografic facility is actually about a half mile to my right while I was taking this photo, but as you can see the buildings are incredibly modern. For the most part, we had the place to ourselves. One or two school groups, an occasional family, and a really nice couple from Ecuador that took our photo. The dolphin show was absolutely incredible-- I've never seen anything like it. The handlers spent just as much time in the water performing various tricks in stunts with the dolphins as they did out of the water. One even stood on the swimming dolphin like a surfboard! We were both very impressed with the variety of party tricks that were performed.


After the show we went over to the Arctic exhibit, which was really neat. I've never before seen a Beluga whale, or a walrus, but there they were. The whales looked unreal; perfectly white, and smooth as an ivory bar of soap. And then when I saw the walrus I was nearly taken aback at the sheer size of it; easily the size of our two-person couch in the loft at home. It seemed to be bumping it's head on the glass too, and then we realized it was licking the wall. Adorable! This great hulking mass of blubber and muscle licking the glass of the aquarium right in front of us (we had the place to ourselves.) The most spectacular experience though was walking through these massive aquarium tunnels. Not only were we the only two people in the whole place, but it was so enormous and clear, it felt and looked as if the fish and sharks were literally swimming over your head. I was in awe.

After the aquarium, we went down to the beach, which was very much asleep. Windy, rainy, and a bit chilly on the waterfront, I have no doubt that it's a wonderful place to be in the summertime (not so much in the middle of December). We took the bus back to the hotel, and from there I retired to my room and Shelley went to check out the Ceramics museum and a local market. I seem to have come down with another cold, so sleep is a must, in spite of the fact that I'd much rather be out and about. Around 9 o'clock, we walked about three storefronts down to a warm and welcoming little restaurant for dinner, and then walked about four storefronts in the other direction for gelato. Which brings me back to here, getting ready for bed once again, and preparing for the train ride tomorrow to Madrid.

Barcelona -> Valencia

It was only after we had shifted our plans a bit that we realized most museums in Barcelona are closed on Mondays. Oops! After a bit more searching in the Lonely Planet Bible of Spain Tourism, we did uncover a few options to keep us busy. We met Matt around 10 or so, and headed off for the Palau de la Musica Catalana. It had been recommended to Shelley by a friend of hers, so we bought tickets for the morning English tour and then spent the next 10 minutes gawking at the fantastical façade of the building. It was built in the “Art Nuevo” style, with the theme that one is not inside a music house, but in a garden. Pictures were not permitted inside the building, which is really too bad because it is SO gorgeous. It seats over 2,000 people, but feels as intimate as a 100 person theater. I was surprised to learn that it was built in the similar manner of the Eiffel tower, with a great iron frame as its fundamental structure. The elaborate display of stained glass and mosaic tiles, made in various factories around Catalonia and then shipped to the site, were then placed on top; the building only took 3 years to construct! In regards to the music, the theatre hosts over 300 shows a year in every genre of music and dance except Opera. As we were sitting in the theater, the guide explains to us the significance of the Organ that has something like 4,000 pipes and was brought in from Germany. After its recent renovation, a computer program was installed so the organ could play automatically. Our guide then proceeds to pull out a clicker, press a button, and the Organ begins to play an elaborate song. Even I, a teenager who has grown up with all of these technological innovations and thinks nothing of them, was absolutely floored to see an Organ play a song with the same ease as when I open our garage door at home.

After the tour, we set off in the direction of the Poble Espanyol. It was built for a World Exhibition, and is a relatively expansive community that shows the architecture and design of houses across the country. Both Shelley and I purchased audio guides, which were a wonderful asset in understanding the significance of the architecture. There were also many shops selling the works of artisans, and also showing how they were made. I was fascinated by a glass blowing workshop where I could see the process of heating, cooling, and shaping a glass pitcher. The craftsmanship was fun to browse through, and the weather was just beautiful. It was also empty, which made for a very pleasant experience. I can only imagine that it looks a bit like Disney World during the summer season. In fact, everything we’ve done so far has been so nice because we haven’t had to wait in line for three hours, or fight through masses of people to catch a glimpse of Gaudi. And it’s still in the 50’s and sunny!

We spent quite a few hours in the Poble, and then decided to check out a local flea market that was on the other side of the city. I think we came at the worst time because it was late afternoon and most people had already left or were packing up. What we did see was nothing to write home about. So, we got back on the metro and headed to the hostal. I was shocked, although I know I shouldn't be, as I witnessed the expertise of three pickpockets that were working their way along in the metro car. They had targeted a young girl standing across from me, who held a very large pocketbook and was listening to her iPod; she had no idea what was going on. I glared at the fellow who was about to dip his hand into her bag, and he immediatly retreated. I wasn't sure what to do though because I felt like if I pulled her, or her bag, towards me it would have created the ideal "distraction" for which they might steal something. So instead, I continued to glare and make it quite obvious that if they did anything I would personally rip their eyes out with a blunt spoon. I made eye contact with the girl and motioned for her to pull her bag close, and with that the theives got off at the next stop. Jerks. She was so thankful that I'd been watchful; I knew they hadn't stolen anything, but I hope she's more careful next time. I'd never actually seen pickpockets work, but now I understand how they work and how swift and horribly sneaky they can be. For that reason, I keep my money, passport, and credit cards in a money pouch that's around my neck and under my shirt at all times.

Anyways, on our way back we stumbled upon a fresh-food market that was tucked away off Las Ramblas. They had bowls of fresh fruit for sale that were so good and refreshing; that was the best dinner I’ve had in a while. As much as I love travel, I’ve never been a fan of always having to go out and find food in a foreign city. It’s just a lot of work, a lot of walking, and doesn’t strike me as an “adventure” as I’m sure some would argue. It’s also a bit of a challenge to make sure one is eating healthy and balanced, but I suppose that it’s all simply part of the traveling experience.

It was a decidedly quiet evening for the two of us, and the next morning we headed off to the Picasso Museum with the plans of catching an afternoon train to Valencia. The exhibit was very interesting in how it traced Picasso’s works from his early beginning in the late 1880’s, primitive sketches and such all the way through to his later Cubism era and ceramic innovation. I’d only really associated Picasso through his stereotypical portraits of strange-looking faces, but in fact the museum shows such a variety of his works that I walked away with a much more in-depth understanding of the artist than I had started the day with.

The train to Valencia was an incredibly simple affair—we bought our tickets, hung out in the station for an hour or so, boarded our train (which was on time) and then enjoyed the next 3 hours as we breezed down the coast. As I’ve said before, I love train travel because it allows you to really see the landscape—and in this case I was thoroughly enamored by the rocky cliffs and sandy beaches of the Spanish coastline. The ride is so smooth and quiet that you have to double check that there is indeed a boarding ticket in your pocket, and of course it was wonderful to arrive in the heart of Valencia’s city center. We were both pleasantly surprised that our hotel of choice had been recently renovated, and both modern and comfortable.

This evening we stopped by a small café that had great vibes, and chatted for quite some time over wine and a few tapas. Most restaurants here don’t open until 8:30 or 9pm, so we also had some time to kill before actually finding a place open for dinner. It worked out nicely though, as we moved from the cozy café to a Greek bistro down the block which had great food. We weren’t thrilled with eating Greek in Valencia, don’t get me wrong, but it was gooood. And so, here I am, very content and just about to head to bed. The good life, indeed.

Barthelona!

It was 20 degrees Farenheit and snowing in Budapest, getting dark around 4:oo pm, and just really, really cold as we boarded the plane to Barcelona. Two hours later, it's now 5:30 and I look down to see palm trees swaying in the mild breeze of the Barcelona sunset; it's in the low 50's, and very, very cold by Catalan standards. Quite frankly, I don't know what is wrong with those folks. I couldn't believe it was December and all I needed was a light coat to keep warm! It's just lovely, and we've still got further South to go; who knows, maybe I'll even come home with a sun-kissed glow.

I really don't know how we would have managed to do all that we've done in the past few days without my friend Matt, who's been our tourguide for the weekend. He's also from McDaniel College, but came to study in Spain because he's a Spanish major. Not only did he get us from the airport to our hostal, but he then took us out that evening to see the very beautiful, and very unfinished Sagrada Familia. It is an incredible spectacle to behold. Some joke that with the Spanish work ethic, it'll be another 200 years before it's actually finished, but even now it's so wild and imaginitive and big, you think to yourself - how in the world did he come up with this stuff? Then you see a few of his other buildings in the city, as we did, and you think to yourself -- was he on drugs? Who knows for sure, but his architecture is just wild. For dinner we stopped in a hole-in-the-wall bar and shared a variety of Tapas and Sangria, and then continued on through the electric buzz of Barcelona on a Friday night.

Saturday was another gorgeous day, but from the sounds of it, bad weather is a rarity in Barcelona. Clear blue sky, warm sun. I could have been walking around with pneumonia and I would still have been happy because it was so gosh darn nice out. Our walk began in the Gothic Quarter, which is full of narrow winding streets and charming old apartment buildings. We browsed through one of the many Christmas markets, and also took a few minutes to enjoy the Cathedral. As we were wandering from one vendor to the next, I noticed that many had this smiling creature that looked as if someone had put Rudolph's nose and two eyes on a piece of firewood and threw a blanket over it. Turns out "Caga Tio" is the Catalan Christmas tradition; his name translates roughly to "easing of the bowels" and on Christmas Eve he is set upon a mound of presents, which are then covered with a blanket. In the morning, little Catalan children come down and beat this smiling piece of firewood with a stick while singing a song that goes something like "Empty your bowels and poop out our gifts." Charming, really.

After that, we took a quick detour through one of the many Barrio Markets where one can find almost anything under the sun, and then some. I swear to goodness the meats and poultry looked like they'd been killed that morning. The fish looked like they might twitch at any moment, and by the end I felt like even my own tolerance for the "fresh factor" was wearing thin.

From the market, we took the metro out to Park Guell, home of some of Gaudi’s most famous architecture. I’ve never before taken an escalator up a hillside that looked like it’d just been shipped in from San Francisco, but such was the case in ascending to the entrance of the park. Matt took us to the highest point, from which one can see all of Barcelona scattered about below. We then worked our way down and instantly fell in love with the mosaic tile work of Gaudi’s creation: whimsical, colorful, and nothing like what I had ever seen before. We spent a good deal of time wandering about and admiring everything, and also stopped in to see the Gaudi Casa Museum. I loved the jewelry and artwork that was for sale around the area as most of it was inspired by Gaudi motifs. It was hard to leave, but hunger won us all over eventually. After a very filling “Menu del Dia” we went underground again and came up to see Barcelona’s Arc de Triomf. Quite ironic though as there is no triumph associated with it whatsoever- it was built for the World’s Fair. We walked down one of the grand boulevards, lined with palm trees, and stopped to admire the building of the Catalonya Parliament. The independence situation is very similar to Quebec, and it’s only been in the last thirty years or so that the Catalonian culture has resurfaced from its oppression.

You’re probably just as tired from reading all this as I was from actually doing it! We were all in need of a Siesta, so it was agreed that after a rest we should meet up again around 9:30 or so. I felt like a million bucks after a short nap, and was quite pleased with myself that I got to sample some authentic Catalonian Cava (sparkling wine). It was very good, to say the least. The night was still young after wine and tapas, so we headed over to a cheerful looking Irish Pub. Of course I ordered a Guinness (I’ve been reformed!) and it was just a good time to be had all around.

Somewhere along the way yesterday, Shelley and I realized that we had both been toying with the idea of rearranging our travel plans a bit. There is so much to do in Barcelona that we eventually opted to stay for another day and cancel our one-night visit to Tortosa. That way we would be able to go out and see the Salvador Dali Theatre Museum in Figueres. It’s about an hour and a half train ride to get there, but the museum was well worth it. The entire exhibit was designed by Dali himself, and so creates a unique experience of looking at art while also walking around in it. For the most part, one couldn’t even begin to explain the logic of the art. It just was what it was. That’s the beauty of it though; Dali didn’t color inside the lines. He took the lines, melted them, twisted them inside out, and then called them art.

Aside from the museu, there wasn’t a whole lot going on in the city. We were both on the fence about stopping in Girona on the way back for an hour or so, but in the end opted to stay on the train and simply return to Barcelona. The way I see it, it’s just another reason to come back again sometime. This evening we took a paseo (stroll) along Las Ramblas, and were literally in awe at the sheer number of people that were out and about on a Sunday night. People hustling and bustling; most of the stores were still open too. Holiday shopping, perhaps?

The most shocking phenomenon for me is listening to a foreign language and actually understanding it. After four months in Hungary, knowing enough to get by but not enough to get the gist of a conversation, and then traveling in French and German-speaking countries, this whole Spanish thing is just dandy. The Castillian lisp makes my heart chuckle whenever I hear it (I think it sounds silly) but it doesn’t really make the Spanish any harder to understand. It’s just when they try to speak English that I’m thinking “What the hell are they saying??” Now that’s what I call irony!

Goodbye Budapest

I honestly can't believe I'm leaving. Some days felt as slow as molasses, but wow, it's been 16 weeks and it feels like yesterday that Dr. Mandy was having us all together for pizza in the hotel, about to explain the details of school registration and moving into our flats. I could not have imagined how much could possibly happen in the span of a semester, and yet I'm looking back thinking to myself-- did this all really happen to me? Yes, Stacey, it did.

In regards to the dentist appointment earlier this week, I'm just fine. Between my traveling and excess stress with finals and moving out, it's undoubtedly made me vulnerable to such an inconvenience. That's life as it is. After the dentist, Shelley and I went to the thermal baths of the Gellert Hotel, and there is nothing better than soaking in the 38 degree Celsius pool. Sure, the system is so utterly confusing that you have to just go along with it, and the staff have attitudes like they've been working there 100 years and don't give a hoot whether you want to buy a massage or not, but it's Gellert. It's posh, esteemed, and beautiful.

The rest of the week has been a bit of a blur. I did some shopping with Shelley at the Central Market, bought some Hungarian Christmas ornaments to take back with me, and a few Christmas gifts. Shelley loved the fact that I knew where all the good stalls where with the best items for the most reasonable prices; she told me she would not have enjoyed Budapest as much as she has had I not been with her to give her advice, recommendations, directions and such. I would agree though; it's really nice to have a local show you around a city!

As kind of a way to wrap things up, I thought I'd post a few emails and such that I exchanged with my Mom and Dad in the first few days that I arrived...

Mom and Dad,
I just wanted to let you know that I made it to Budapest safe and sound. I'm exhausted, but very happy because all of my luggage arrived and in tact. I haven't seen any of the city yet, but we'll be doing a lot of that stuff this week...Now it's time for a nap! Love, Stacey

Stacey,
It is really nice to read your letter. I hope the Internet access works out. It probably will be fine to use the one at school...I hope you like your apartment. I am anxious to hear about it. You and Sarah will have a big grocery shop to do. That should be quite an experience in a Hungarian grocery store! Love, Mom

Hi Mom and Dad
I have been in Budapest for one day now, and I think I will like the city. I am so glad I took the Hungarian class- everyone is asking us questions about this and that so I feel a little special. We get our apartment tomorrow, and Sarah is very excited, but I'm not as much. Apparently it is quite nice though, and in a very central location of the city... Love, Stacey

Hi Sweetie,
Your blog will be widely read so here is some good advice: "Before you speak, ask yourself, is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?" Love, Dad

Thank you Mom and Dad for all of your support!

I've also kept a running list of some cultural differences between Budapest and Glenelg...

• Water is "with" or "without" gas
• Tap water tastes good
• Very little smiling and friendliness
• Staring is an accepted practice
• So are elaborate displays of public affection
• No free refills, free water, or ice
• Smaller serving sizes of food
• Women show a lot more skin in warm weather
• Communist memorabilia
• Fresh seafood from the river or the Balaton
• No English cognates in language
• Greeting is one kiss on each cheek, left then right; called a "puszi"
• Dark at night
• Enforces a 10pm noise curfew
• Front flush shelf-toilets used
• Toilets have a big flush button, and a small flush button
• Fantastic public transportation
• Universal tip of 10%
• Paying with too big of a bill warrants the Look of Death
• Eating out, one must ask for the bill; it will not be given to you
• You see your waiter twice: once to give your order, and once to get your food
• Homeless people are everywhere
• Many buildings still have bullet holes
• In grocery stores, bring your own bag, and bag your own items
• Babies must always be wearing a hat starting October 1
• Open-air drinking is technically illegal, but never enforced
• Men and women always look "put together" in their outfits
• Hungarian women in politics must use "coquettish" means to climb the ladder
• The oppressed minority are the Roma, formerly known as 'Gypsies'
• No muffins, no cookies, no bagels
• One can find pig lard, knuckles, chicken legs, and just about every organ you can think of in the grocery store
• Most Hungarian wine is only sold domestically
• "Hungaricum" is a product patented by Hungary
• Many restaurants and stores do not take Visa or Mastercard

Those are just some of what I came up with; I'm sure there were many more that I've thought of as I'm going about my business but can't seem to recall at the moment. All in all, it's been a great experience. I've learned so much about people, traveling, history, and culture. I have a whole new perspective on the Nazi and Soviet terrors; of the extermination and labor camps. Sure, they teach us about it in school; but actually living in and experiencing the history for myself? That, for me, is life-changing. Budapest is so unique-- it's a gorgeous, run-down city that is on the rebound. Buildings are being renovated everywhere, and the younger generation is shedding the oppression that many of the older folks still carry from the Soviet era. I would love to come back and see the city someday, if only to see how much it has changed. Thank you Budapest, for all that you've shown me! It has been a truly unforgettable experience.

Bienvenida Aunt Shelley!

It is with the greatest pleasure that I can say that Aunt Shelley has arrived in Budapest! I was so glad that I was able to pick her up at the airport, and her flight -though long- went smoothly. I decided to bring her back to the flat since hotel check-in was not until later that afternoon, so while she rested I walked a block around the corner and picked up some lunch- my favorite too. An XXL Don Pepe's Garlic-Sour cream- Chicken pizza. Mmm mmm.

Funny thing though; I've realized that there are two things the always seem to make Hungarians smile. One is the sight of a baby or a young child. Their faces seem to light up at the garble of words and sounds, and the precious little features that we all know and love. The other is the sight of me walking down the street carrying an XXL pizza (just shy of two feet in diameter). I think it's hysterical how I march along and everyone seems to smile and laugh, sometimes even asking me if they can have a slice too. Aunt Shelley's eyes looked like saucers when she first saw how big the pizza is, but no worries, I assured her, whatever we don't finish I'll just have for breakfast. And so we munched on fantastic pizza and talked a bit about some of the things there are to do and see in Budapest.

That evening, after checking Shelley into the Marriott (the rooms are fantastic, by the way, and the view of the Danube...wow) and then set off for the Christmas market about a block away. I was really surprised at how many nice things there were at the market because the usual stuff that I've seen just isn't of the same quality. It was a rainy evening, so the market was quiet, and after strolling the booths we hopped on the old metro and set off for Hero's Square and City Park. Beautifully lit, I think the sights are just as nice at night as they are during the day. We ended the evening early- partly due to the weather and partly because I have to study too- but it was a nice way to introduce Shelley to Budapest.

This morning, however, I am filled with dread because I have to see a dentist. Much to my dismay, a gum infection has persisted for more than a week, and I am rather concerned because I'm going to be traveling for another week and a half before coming home. So, Dr. Mandy gave me the information for her own dentist (she's amazing) and they've managed to squeeze me in today for a cleaning. I have to be frank, going to a dentist in a country like Hungary is the absolute last thing I would ever want to do, but the circumstances make it unavoidable. The office speaks English, as does the dentist (who is from the U.S.) and the practice has a U.S. license, so as horrible as the notion is to me, I'm pretty darn lucky regardless. Wish me luck! I really hope it's nothing serious, or at least can wait till I get home.

Statue Park

After the fall of the hegemonic Communist party, Budapest did something no other city has done. They collected all that was left of the Communist-era statues, and plunked them down in a little park on the very outskirts of the city where anyone and everyone could see them. This morning, Didi and I decided to check out what Statue Park was all about; I had been on the fence about it all semester long, but with Didi's initiative it was enough reason to justify the hour-long trek to get out there.

I find myself repeating over and over again that as wonderful as Budapest is, it's so tourist unfriendly that you have to laugh sometimes. Lucky for us, Sarah had gone a few weeks before and was able to warn us that finding the bus depot was a bit of a challenge as the signs to the park actually point you into the train station (opposite of the bus depot) and that the stop for the park was both quick to pass by and unannounced. Many, many students have described the phenomenon of watching the park go by before realizing that they should have pressed the 'Stop' button a minute or two ago. We, too, found ourselves scrambling to get off the bus once we realized where we were, but it was all in good spirit. With Stalin's great big boots looming above the entrance, it was rather obvious that we had come to the right place.

Some say that the park is the neatest thing; others will confess that it is a bit of a let-down. I kept an open mind about the whole thing and decided that although it wasn't as big as thought it would be, the whole concept of it and the rarity in the preservation of these statues and monuments made it very much worthwhile. Some of them seemed larger than life! Can you see me between the man's legs mimicking his pose? Really puts things in perspective doesn't it?

Overall, I really enjoyed walking around memories of days gone by. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience, you could say, given that all other Communist artwork and such has been destroyed. It's a shame that they don't have more, but you really can't expect the oppressed to want to keep around things that remind them of their oppressors. I don't really have any other big plans for this weekend except for studying for my finals. It's really hard to believe that the semester is over. I just can't seem to wrap my mind around it. So many places, faces, new cities and new friends. Does it really have to end?

Yes, yes it does. But there is no better way to end it than in the company of loved ones. I am SO EXCITED to see Aunt Shelley and show her around Budapest, and then we're off to Spain-- where I actually speak a bit of the local tounge *phew* Until next...

An Irish Adventure

About a week ago, my friend Corey and I decided on a spur-of-the-moment decision to go on one last trip before the end of the semester, and so I found myself packing up my backpack once more and boarding a plane for Dublin. We arrived late Thursday night, found the hostel with little hassle, and decided to tackle the city bright and early the next morning. Aside from the fact that we could actually understand people, one of the biggest shocks was the cars all driving on the wrong side of the road. Thank goodness they painted these warnings at all the crosswalks!

We decided to do our own walking tour of Dublin, and first stopped to admire the campus of Trinity College. It was amazing how once we stepped through the gate, we seemed to have entered an entirely different world; one with much less traffic, noise, and drunk Irish folk. The College is home to the Book of Kells, a prized ancient artifact of the Celtic culture, so we figured we would come back on Monday to check it out. Continuing on, we saw the Dublin Castle, and then made our way to none other than the Guinness factory. If there is one thing about Irish culture that every Irishman is proud of, it's the Guinness Legend. The infamous stout has been brewed in the heart of Dublin since 1759, and many attribute it's fantastic taste to the purity of the local water. I had never tried the drink before, but quite liked it, and made a point to have at least one pint of it each day I was in Ireland. So I'm not actually Irish, but I can still drink like one!

We were both quite cold and chilly as it had begun to rain (big surprise) and headed back for some rest at the hostel. It was there that we met two other students who were bunking with us, from the U.S. and studying in Milan. We decided to all go out for some dinner and then a drink or two, and I must say it was an absolutely fantastic night. After a nice meal, we headed over to a favorite local pub, The Celt to have a few drinks and listen to the live music. Never before have I been in such a cheerful, warm and jovial environment. We were all dancing and singing to traditional Irish tunes, and I felt like my Ireland experience really couldn't get any more authentic than this. It was pure fun!

The next day, we headed out on a tour to the Wicklow mountains and the Lake of Glendalaugh. As they say with the Irish accent, the landscape was "gargeous" and so very, very vast. We saw endless rolling hills and mountains, and waterfalls; I couldn't believe how green and lush everything was in the middle of December! Our guide even stopped to show us the fields where the great battle scenes of Braveheart were filmed (not Scotland) and explained that the reason why it was shot in Ireland is because the government offered to provide the 2,000 necessary extras for free. How exactly does one go about that? The Irish army! Interesting, eh? In our tour group were 7 German students that we got to chatting with, very friendly they all were, and it made the day all the more memorable when we came back with a few more friends than we'd started with.

Words can't really describe the rugged beauty of the countryside...

The next morning we took the DART train to a small fisherman's town on a penninsula North of Dublin. We hiked along the coastline, in a seemingly perpetual state of wonder and amazement at how gorgeous this island was. It was very windy, and began to rain in the evening (we weren't surprised at this point) so we relaxed more or less in and around the hostel. By Monday, I really wasn't looking foward to leaving. Originally we had wondered what could be so great about a big old book, but after seeing the Book of Kells exhibit, I can now say "What isn't great about this big old book?" It was written more than 1,200 years ago and has been so preserved that one can still admire the intricate detailing of its images and manuscript. Pretty darn cool if you ask me.

And then it was back to Budapest, one last time. I am so very, very excited to see Aunt Shelley-- I think I might even be able to pick her up at the airport-- and then jet off to Spain! Goodness gracious, this has been one crazy semester...

Official Tour of the Flat

As Dad kindly pointed out, I have yet to post pictures of the flat that has become our home in the last few months. Embracing the procrastination of a homework assignment, I thought I would take the opportunity to give everyone a grand tour.


This first view is from the front door. We have a nice little kitchen table as you can see, with the kitchen there on the left. This picture is from very early on, and we have since bought a charming little red table runner that brightens up the space considerably. The room in the back is our living room, separated by two doors that we always keep open, although you can see one slightly ajar on the right. Our bathroom is through the white door on the left between the kitchen and the living room entrance, and our two bedrooms are on the left and right side of the living room. The third bedroom which was originally the maid's chambers is to the immediate left-- out of view-- but nicely holds our vacuum cleaner and the three extra beds that are being stored in the flat.




This would be our kitchen, and from what I've seen it's one of the nicest out of all the flats. We have an electric four-burner stovetop and an oven below it, a full set of kitchen utilities, pots and pans, and lots of counter space. Our microwave was great until Sarah tried to set it above the lowest setting that it had been left on (we were wondering why it took 5 minutes to warm a slice of pizza) and it caught on fire. It was a few weeks before we got another, but we both had a good laugh when we realized the landlord had left the broken one in our empty room. I don't have a photo of our food nook, but our fridge is moderately sized. We have a freezer the size of a shoebox, but decent storage space in the body of it; we've have never had a problem with not having enough room for our food. This would be our living room. It's quite simple, but we thought we were quite innovative when we decided to throw the sheets on to add a bit of color. It's was very drab when we first moved in! When we have a group over this is where we all sit to eat because we can only fit four at the kitchen table. It's quite nice, although neither one of us spends any amount of time in there unless we're socializing with friends.



Have you noticed that you can't see the ceiling in any of the pictures? I tried to capture the sheer size of the room in this photo of my bedroom, but even still it doesn't really convey how much "space" there is. Both of our bedrooms could be described as spartan. They came with the basics: Bed, desk, bookshelf, closet and wastebasket. I didn't like it too much at first, but now when I come home from a weekend away I'm kind of looking forward to snuggling up in my own little Ikea bed.


I don't have a photo of our bathroom (not sure why I would want one anyways) but we're rather lucky in the sense that everything is in one room. I say lucky because that's how it always is at home, but apparently it's a bit abnormal here. We have a mini-sized washing machine that holds about two pairs of jeans, three shirts, and some underwear. We don't have a dryer so we use a fold-away clothes hanger, and the water here is incredibly hard so once our clothes are dry they're as stiff as boards; makes walking around in clean jeans a bit funny for the first few minutes. Our washing machine empties into our bathtub, so if you're not careful while showering you can get a cold sudsy surprise if the load is done. Although we can shower standing up because there is a showerhead holder, we're in a tub and there's no curtain. With 20 foot ceilings we never really get the "steamy shower" effect, which basically means that the side under the shower is quite warm, and the side in the air is quite cold.

This last shot is of the building itself. The entrance is just behind the poster column there, and it usually smells bad so I try and hold my breath and have my keys ready by the time I'm on the block. We're in a very centrally located area, right off the main drag. The metro is a block and a half away (there's only 3 lines in Budapest) and the central tram line is also a block and a half away. I just recently adjusted my route to school as I found a more direct way, but on any given day I will walk about 3 blocks to the trolley stop, hop on and ride for about 5-7 minutes, and then walk one block from the stop to school. Both the bigger grocery store and the smaller convenience market are within two blocks left of our flat, and there's a great big mall just around the corner.

Everything has been pretty good for the most part, although there was a week where our water heater broke and the repairmen came about 8 times because they would "fix" it and then it would break again later that afternoon. The flat next to us has been under renovation for the last two months so we usually wake up to a pleasant banging on the walls. They've also started on something outside which causes such a thumping that our apartment shakes-- you can actually hear the wine bottles clinking sometimes. It doesn't really faze me since I was within sneezing range of the renovation on the gym last year, but I am very much looking forward to the peace and quiet of home.

Thanksgiving in Salzburg, Black Friday in Munich

After living on cereal for two days because I wasn't home long enough to justify a trip to the grocery store, I was definitely excited to be on my way to Salzburg last Wednesday morning. I'd packed my backpack, taken out the trash, picked up some munchies for the train ride, and had myself all chipper and ready to go when I arrived at the train station only to see that our particular train was not listed anywhere on the Departures board. And there was a big banner across two of the platforms that read "Strike."

Great.

Upon inquiry, I was informed that some of the German/Austrian railways had also been on strike, but that it was scheduled to end that day at noon. I guess you could say our timing was rather lucky, but once they announced the platform of our train, we sat for about two hours in the station before finally going anywhere. As a result of the delay we had to transfer trains in Vienna so we could continue on to Salzburg, and we had about 5 minutes to do it. It's kind of hard to run with a backpack, so we scurried as fast we could, and hopped in a car with a minute or two to spare. We'd boarded a high-speed ICE train, and the interior looked more like the lobby of a Hilton than a train. They really put our American trains to shame. We finally got into Salzburg around 9pm, found our hostel without a glitch, had a glass of the local wheat beer in the hostel's pub before crashing for the night.

The next morning though, I do believe the hills were alive with the sound of music! We started our adventure with the Original Sound of Music Tour; it sounds cheesy, but it was a lot of fun. I'd just seen the movie for the first time this past summer and our tour guide, an English lady named Sue, had all sorts of interesting stories about the making of the film. They took us out a ways into the hills where the opening shot was filmed, and the Austrian alps were just stunning. I could buy a house with a front porch and a rocker and just savor the sight of them all day long. We had a lunch break in the quaint town of Mondsee, home of the church where the wedding scene was filmed, and then finished the tour back in Salzburg at the "Do, Re, Mi Gardens." It was a very busy day for us because after the Sound of Music tour, we did the tour of the Salzburg saltmine. Which one exactly, I'm not sure, but it was a lot of fun too!

On our way to the salt mine we drove across the German border and up into the Alps where Hitler's Eagle's Nest is located. From our vantage point, we could just barely make it out as a little dot perched on the very highest peak. Again, the views of the snow-capped mountains were breath-taking. Once at the mine, we were given suits to put on over our clothes which made both of us look like navy-blue, reflective power rangers. I was glad for it though because it got a bit chilly on the train ride that took us into the mine itself. The nature of the tour was a bit odd because the tour guide would speak in German, and then once done, would start speakers that reiterated what he had said in English and Japanese. My favorite parts of the tour were the slides-- so much fun! And fast too! We got to take a boat across one of the salt lakes, and then taste the water from it, which I decided was saltier than swallowing a mouthful of the ocean. I learned a lot about the mining process too. Did you know it can take up to 30 years to mine a salt cavity?

Our driver was kind enough to drop us off by the city center, and from there we reveled in the wonders of the Christmas market. A small band was playing Christmas tunes, and it was the most charming spectacle. Garland and ornaments everywhere, twinkling lights giving everything a homey glow. It was hard to believe we were in Salzburg on Thanksgiving. We treated ourselves to a nice, 3-course Italian dinner, but lamented that it just wasn't the same as turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. Even though I loved the city and everything about it, I was the most homesick I've been all semester. As we were walking along one of the bridges, chatting about what our families would be doing at home right about then, I felt compelled to give Amanda a hug. We cheered to all of Salzburg, "Happy Thanksgiving!" and then made our way back to the hostel. It was still early, so we hit up the pub again and started chatting with another couple that was on their way to Paris. I was shocked when the gal, Jen, told me she was from Columbia, Maryland. What are the odds that you bump into someone who lives 20 mintes from you while traveling in Europe? Moments like those are when my world gets an itty bitty bit smaller!

The next morning we bought our train ticket to Munich before heading up to the castle. The view over the city was postcard perfect, and we were delighted to find that around the far side of the Abbey was a perfect overlook of the snowy Alps. I did a bit more Christmas shopping for myself, and warmed up with a cup of delicious Gluhwein. Before long we were on our way to Munich!

It was an easy train ride and we got in around 7pm. After checking in, we poked around a bit and then headed downtown to see the sights. I was rather surprised at how dressed-up people were, but it seemed to fit the somewhat "uppity" vibes that I was feeling. Starving, we were thrilled to stumble upon a Turkish kebab store, and completely devoured our gyros. As I was munching away, I felt a sense of contentment like I was eating something from "home" because there are great gyros places in Budapest.

Hold up! Home? Budapest? It was a rather funny thought that I had subconsciously associated Budapest with "food from home," but then again, Budapest is my home. I guess that's just what happens when you live somewhere. Anyways, right next door is the world renowned Hofbrauhouse, which literally translates to "House of the Royal Brew."

In a night, they can go through up to 10,000 liters of beer! Crikee! We got there and it was quite busy, but we managed to find some seats. Between the traditionally dressed Om-pa-pa band, the old German men with their steins that they can keep in a locker at the beer hall, and the tables of rowdy Englishmen singing rugby and football songs, it all made for an experience that left such a unique impression that I can only say that you just had to be there. For most of the time, I chatted with a fellow from New York City that was in Munich on business for Audi. Meanwhile, Amanda was getting her ear talked off about American politics by a pair of Czech brothers. Even though she didn't think it was so funny, I was very entertained by that fact that neither one of them could speak English very well, but between the two of them they managed to fill in each other's blanks. Talk about teamwork! It had begun to rain, so we took a cab to our next destination. It is with great sadness that I cannot take any credit for the pictures in this blog because my camera fell out of my coat pocket on that very cab ride. I realized it about 5 minutes after we had warmed up inside the Munich Hard Rock Cafe, and was rather devastated for the rest of the evening. I still am, but at least it is replaceable.

The next morning we took the free walking tour that is organized by the hostel. It was cold and gray, but I learned a great deal of history about the city and got to see a lot of the big sights downtown. Our guide was very informative and engaging, and because he had family in the area, he knew a great deal about the culture of the city as well. I was most surprised by the fact that the majority of the city is less than 60 years old, even though it looks much older (most of it was oblierated in WWII.) After the tour, we warmed up in a cafe, contemplating what to do next. We were both a bit tired, and opted to go back and rest in the hostel for a bit; we would have needed another day to give any of the museums in the area due justice. I headed over to the police station to try and figure out how I could get my camera back, but was kindly informed that there was really nothing I could do unless I came back to the city's lost and found in a week or two to claim it (if it actually gets turned in). I didn't really like Munich, but I think part of that has to do with the fact that I accidentally gave it my beloved camera.

The evening was very relaxed and laid back. We met two soldiers who were stationed in Germany, had just finished a 15 month term in Iraq, were in Munich to take a vacation, and thrilled to be talking to other Americans (and girls at that!) A few of us went around the corner for some more gyros and then we settled down in the hostel's bar/pub just swapping stories. After having a few liters the night before, I opted for the much milder "clear beer" beverage, which most know as water :) My world got a little bit smaller (again!) when a guy noticed my Green Terror sweatshirt and told me his cousin had graduated from there a year before. I really enjoy the social aspect of the hostel experience; we meet the most interesting people and I always seem to walk away with so much more than when I first arrived.

Our train left at 9:30 Sunday morning, so we fueled up on a very nice breakfast buffet and walked the 5 minutes to the station. Unlike the chaos of before, this train was a direct route to Budapest. We ended up talking with a fascinating guy from New Hampshire, Alex, who was getting his master's in Biotechnology at a school in Austria. He was also a musician and composer, and because his classes don't start until February, he's been traveling around and playing gigs in Europe since he arrived about a month ago. The four hours that he traveled with us felt like 5 minutes, and I've never had so much fun talking about everything under the sun with a complete stranger! Who knew? I would never have been so open to a conversation like that before and now look where I am. The ride was about 8 hours long, but I loved watching the world go by. It's a much more intimate way to travel than by airplane.

Overall, I really enjoyed how different this trip was from Paris. I loved Salzburg-- so much so that if I had to move to Europe, that's where I would go. It's simple, but with substance. Charming, but not nauseatingly touristy. And the Alps... well... they're incredible. Munich, on the other, I didn't like as much. There is not a lot of "positive" history associated with it, but they certainly aren't kidding when they refer to it as the "beer capital of the world." I had a great weekend, it was quite an adventure, and in a few days I'll be off to Ireland. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday, and I look forward to seeing everyone soon!

Parisian Perfection

There is nothing more memorable than going to a city that is in the throes of a mass transit strike. Both my friend Amanda and I were wondering how things would play out as we boarded our plane to Paris, but now that I have safely returned to my Budapest abode I can say that it really wasn't all that bad. Some of the metros were running, although we were never really sure which ones, and it worked out that we could get out of the city from a particular line that was about 8 blocks from the hostel (better than nothing!). We didn't have to pay a cent for transport either which was a bit of a bonus.

Early Thursday morning we flew in on a discount airline that lands about 50 miles outside of Paris, and then took a private bus from the airport into the city. It worked out perfectly for us because we didn't need any public transport to get downtown; some of our roommates who had flown into Charles de Gaulle had quite a fiasco getting into Paris because of the strike. Things were going smoothly as we hopped on the main artery line that was working normally, and it wasn't until we needed to transer to the second line that we walked down the steps and into a scene that looked exactly like a newspaper photo I'd seen the day before...

We tried to get on once but the crowd was rowdy and unhappy, so we decided to hoof the two miles to the hostel. We were blessed with clear blue skies all weekend, so even though it was rather cold it made the walking tolerable. On our way we stopped to gawk at the Centre Georges Pompidou and the Stravinsky fountain, two of the coolest modern structures I've ever seen. The Pompidou was built in the 70's with the look of being "inside out" so all of the pipes and reinforcements are on the outside, and the fountain was a playground of whimsical imagintation.

After checking in and dropping off our things, we set off for the Arc de Triomph. It was big, bold and beautiful, surrounded by traffic mayhem. I was so excited to just be there-- I was in Paris! I loved the energy of the city and the diversity of the people; so many colors and languages, races and faces. I got a great taste of people-watching as we walked down the grand boulevard Avenue des Champs Elysees. There were so many high-end fashion shops that I can see now why Paris is considered the fashion capital of the world. We made a right and headed towards the Hotel des Invalides, which we could see perfectly because of the linear layout of the city even though it was over a mile away. That was the other thing I loved-- every major point in the city lines up perfectly with another, which makes every view seem like a perfect portrait of Paris.

The sun was beginning to go down as we reached the ornate bridge of Pont Alexandre III. It was a gem of a vantage point, and we spent about 20 minutes trying to get the "perfect picture" of the Eiffel tower and cityscape at sunset. We both shared a bit of a love affair with the tower, getting excited every time it came into view, because it is without a doubt the idol and image of Paris; like a supermodel made of steel. Everytime I saw it I was awash with the starry-eyed feeling that I was really in Paris. It was getting a bit chilly, but we walked the mile and then some to the Eiffel tower. On our way over I looked up just in time to catch the dazzling display of lights that lit up the tower like a diamond tiara. It was beautiful! However, beauty could only justify our numb fingers for so long, so we made our way back to the nearest running metro to return to the hostel.

For dinner, we opted to utilize the kitchen in the hostel and stopped by a nearby grocer to pick up frozen pizzas and a bottle of 3 euro wine. Turns out the full kitchen didn't include an oven, but after a little improvisation on the stovetop, we sat down to a very pleasant meal. Finally retiring to our room, we met two of of our roomates Corey and Volcan who were from Turkey, but studying in Florence. They were heading out to see the Moulin Rouge, and thrilled with the opportunity to see the infamous red-light district with two bodygaurds, invited myself and Amanda along. Another student from the U.S. joined us as well, and we ventured into the seedy lowlife of Paris. It was fun, but something I only need to do once in my life.

The next morning we made our way back into the city to check out La Maison du Miel, or "House of Honey." It was a charming store that's been in establishment since 1908 and offers over 50 different varieties of domestic and imported honey. The experience was extra-special because one of the clerks spoke English and chatted with us about the fascinating process of specialized honey-making and the different varities we were sampling. This aspect was probably what made the experience the most memorable because there's a tremendous difference between simply sampling a product versus sampling and learning all about it's intricacies. Here in Hungary that just doesn't happen with the language and cultural barriers. I purchased their signature French Lavender Honey and left with that warm fuzzy feeling that the little things are what make a city truly special.

We then walked in the direction of the fountain of St. Michel, which is the meeting point of a free tour that our Turkish friends had strongly reccommended. On our way over we walked through the Jardin des Tuileroes, which stretches out from the Louvre. We met two girls who were students of American University studying abroad, and like us, visiting Paris for the weekend. It was so fun to meet and chat with other students and travelers, but with over 5 million visiting tourists a year, it was much easier to bump into them in Paris than Budapest!

Our tourguide, orginally from New York, had moved to Paris to live the life of a starving artist. He had lots of stories and theories about French history, as well as ancedotes from his own personal experience, that made the walk much more fun and interesting. Although we didn't enter any buildings, it gave us a good layout of the city and ideas for where we might want to visit. Halfway through we decided to go our own way, and headed back to Notre Dame because the doors closed around dusk and it was already past three.



Notre Dame is the quintessential image of 12th century Medieval architecture. It took over 200 years to build, and I loved the fact that each of its bells has a name (Immanuel is the biggest, weighing 13 tons). There was no wait to get in, and it wasn't absurdly busy, which made walking around and admiring the gothic interior quite nice. Again, I couldn't believe I was actually in the Notre Dame. While contemplating the multi-lingual confession room, a choir had begun to sing, so we sat and listened a while before heading back out into the cold. Just around the corner was a place that I had wanted to check out, so we made a stop at the english bookstore Shakespear & Company. It was a bohemian place crammed with books from floor to ceiling, like something you would see in a movie. By now it was evening, and we walked back to the Louvre. On Friday nights entrance is free for anyone 26 and under, so it was a great way for us to save a bit of money and still have a great weekend.

Presently, the museum has over 35,000 works, and if you spend about 10 seconds admiring each one it would take almost 7 months to see all of them. We did the more concise trip and saw the bigger works, like the Mona Lisa, Venus Aphrodite, sculptures of Michaelangelo, The Raft of the Medusa, the pharonic Sphinx on display and the Medieval moat excavation. I found the Da Vinci's small portrait to be rather anticlimatic, but I loved it nonetheless. I also saw the painting much closer, but I thought the paparazzi picture was much more entertaining. The building itself is a work of art, and all the while I couldn't believe I was actually admiring the works of the Louvre.

The next day we started with the Musee d'Orsay, which is home to an entire floor of French impressionist works. I was so high on this whole Paris experience that I could only drool and gawk at the works of Monet, Manet, Ronoir, Matisse, and Van Gogh (my favorite). I LOVED them! I was overwhelmed with this sense of wonder that I was actually seeing the real and very tangible paintings that I had only known through textbooks and art classes. I was really quite moved by the experience! After a few hours, we decided to enjoy the nice day (and warmth of the sun) and took a leisurly walk along the Seine


Finally reaching our beloved Eiffel tower, a lunch break was in order. It was our last evening in Paris, and we both were interested in climbing the tower. So, 700 steps later that's where we were! We started climbing around 4pm, and after a picture from every corner, we found a bench on the West face of the tower on the second level, plunked ourselves down, and watched the sun set. I can't really begin to describe how it feels to watch the orange hues melt into the Paris skyline from atop one of the greatest monuments in the world, but it was pretty darn cool. We decided to conclude the evening with a river cruise, and picked up some fresh croissants and pastries for the ride. It was quite Parisian, if I may say so myself. On our way back we met a young man from Morrocco who was studying in Paris and ended up walking with him and his friend a good ways because the metro wasn't coming anytime soon. I don't think we ever learned his name, but it certainly made the mile we had to walk go by much faster :)

The next morning we made a last venture to the nearby Sacre Coeur; only about 10 minutes from our hostel and perched the highest point in central Paris, it was built as a memorial to the 58,000 soldiers killed during the Franco-Prussian war in 1870. Our original intent was to watch the sunrise from its entrance, however it was very cloudy and overcast, so we opted to go inside the building to warm up. The interior was simple, but grand. Just before leaving, the nuns that had been arranging themselves in the front began to sing morning prayers. Instead of an organ, they were using something that sounded like a harpsichord, which made the arrangement of their prayer quite mild and harmonious. That they were singing in french made it a thousand times more beautiful. I was completely captivated, and decided that even though I had not seen the beauty of a sunrise, I had enjoyed beauty of another sense; their music was intoxicating.

On that note (pun intended) we munched on some hostel breakfast, chatted with a few Aussies, and set out on the trip back to Budapest. Our jars of honey, though measured in grams and not mililiters, had to be checked, and after a bit of running around everything was taken care of. Due to a bit of a delay, we ended up flying over the Austrian and French alps at sunset, and in all my flying experience I have never been so captivated by the window view.

All in all, it was a perfect weekend. I refused to say it until I our plane to Budapest had taken off, but now I can gush that it was everything that I'd imagined it to be, and more than I could have ever wished for. I love Paris!