Regarding Liga & Riga, and Lithuania, ie. the rest of the Baltics

The bus to Riga played Russian popsa the whole way. I was in shock from the familiarity. Also possibly in diabetic shock because the only snacks available in the Tallinn bus station were chips and candy so I went for some Lion bars to accompany my gummy bears for the 5 hour ride. By the way, arriving to take this bus included waiting for a mini-bus on a dusty suburb road, which I then rode in standing because I feel that young people should give their seat up for the old, then RUNNING with my bags between Anneli's and the bus station. One always plans to NOT have to run with luggage, but somehow things never work out this way.

Latvia is chock full of forests, many of them pine


I arrived in Riga in the evening which was amazingly light again, and my hosts, Liga and Kaspars, a married couple in their early thirties, immediately offered me tea with cookies and chocolate at which point my glazed expression and frightened backward step away from the desserts spurred them to feed me some nourishing vegetable soup. Bless their hearts.

I am in love with this cat

In the morning, after sampling various yummy Latvian foods (but no candle to Ukrainian, really) we headed out for the drive to Rozupe. It was the 23rd of June and this is a big holiday in many countries but particularly in Latvia, the 23rd being Liga and the 24th Jani. It is the midsummer holiday and the custom is for women to make and wear garlands of flowers and men garlands of leaves, stay up all night, jump over the bonfire and engage in all sorts of rituals, particularly of the romantic nature. Apparently, one of the various traditions is for a man and a woman to go into the woods together to search for some elusive fern that only blossoms on this night...cue raised eyebrows and exaggerated winking on the part of the man trying to tell you this and steer you towards the woods. I am not so gullible.

It was my host Liga’s name day, and we were going to their friend’s parent’s farm. For me this was quite ridiculous and new, I won’t lie. Mere yards from our tent, cows were roaming freely! Of course, it wasn’t a fully operational, huge farm, but the fact that there were any farm animals at all, let alone gigantic cows being milked before my eyes, well-I am satisfied in calling it a farm.



One of the cows got loose and went to bother another.

The night passed with loads of food, amazing shashlyk (I really have to try yogurt marinades), various traditional games/dances and Latvian songs by the campfire. All the Latvian songs for this holiday have some variation on the word 'Liga' for the refrain...I have heard my fill of "Ligaaaaaa, ligooooooaaaaa, liguuuuaaaaa" forever.

Silly Janis games


Our tent. Cows. Very proximate.


As the group was half Russian, half Latvian, along with me and a Spaniard, the conversation was a mix of the two languages with a teensy bit of English thrown in. I held my own but it is definitely evident that I am American and constantly want to insert an English word into the mix, even when speaking mostly in Russian. All in all, it was an excellent experience and I am so grateful that Liga and Kaspars were generous enough to not simply host me but invite me along to their holiday celebrations so that I could witness and partake in this Latvian tradition.

The next two nights I stayed with a half-Russian, half-Latvian host and her boyfriend. They spoke only Russian at home, with English for the other CS surfer from Canada, and served us salad, herring and potatoes like solid Russians should. The Canadian and I spent our one free day hitting the sights up in serious: an early start at 7 am, train-ing to Yurmala, the “Baltic Riviera” resort town, and stepping into the cold-ass Baltic Sea then back to see all of Riga along with the Museum of the Occupation (featuring stories of partisans and deportees to Siberia), then riding out with Liga and Kaspars to the castles at Sigulda and Krimulda until midnight.

Riga Old Town -the House of the Blackheads


Gutmana Ala, a cave in the Sigulda area where lovers write their names, oldest from 1600's. Cave also comes complete with ancient tales of lust murder and revenge.

After seeing Tallinn, and then Riga, it was pretty evident that these big cities had a high percentage of Russians (so would Vilnius later on). The natives I spoke with resent the Russians only when they refuse to learn the national language, they figure the occupation is long over and they shouldn’t still act like occupiers but assimilate to and respect the country. Familiar story, the world over, no? For me, there was absolutely no resentment or trouble because I was a tourist and that I spoke Russian was a mere additional benefit (and seriously, what a time-saver).

In Vilnius I stayed with two different hosts. The first one was Justas, and his girlfriend Zivelde, in a very nice remodeled flat in an outwardly shabby socialist-built high-rise. Inside it was a vision in red and white Ikea. He toured me around town, complete with another funicular ride/climb up some tall old tower for a completely unnecessary view, but what can you do when someone wants to show you EVERYTHING they can think of?

Bridge-decorating statues left over from Soviet times

Uzupis was a tiny little ‘bohemian’ quarter that has its own amusing constitution with such rights as “the right to be misunderstood” and the “right to cry.” Also, Vilnius seems like it has the highest number of churches per square insert-'whatever measurement you desire.'

Vilnius Cathedral

We watched the euro2008 pre-finals, went to a Bruce Lee–themed cocktail bar, wandered the really large old town, and all in this vein continued when I stayed with my next host, Justina.

I love the spelling.
There were a few other couchsurfers staying with her, a Canadian guy and a Japanese girl who always wore her kimono and sandals with socks when going out. My last night before flying to Switzerland, Justina and I spent hours on youtube watching and showing each other our favorite Russian songs – chizh, ruki vverh (he is so unattractive actually), verka serduchka (I had heard songs before but never realized it was a drag-act. Makes so much more sense now. And it’s hilarious). One day I also took a daytrip to Trakai, where 380 Karaite families were once settled. My grandfather has some Karaim ancestors so I was interested, and I wandered around the tiny peninsula like city, and saw the castle of trakai and ate Karaim food (kibinai-spiced meat-stuffed pastries-very tasty). Sadly, apart from the Kibinai, there was a disappointing lack of information and interesting stuff on the Karaim community.

The castle at Trakai


The next day I flew through Munich and arrived in Geneva where I was thrilled to see Kate and meet Gaby and Phillip. Despite immense anxiety, the travel and passport checks went smoothly.

Food commentary of the Baltics: much of it was extremely familiar to me given my childhood with Polish grocery stores and Ukrainian food. All the cheap dumpling places were fabulous, but they weren’t vareniki (Ukrainian dumplings, the best!). There was cold borsch everywhere (hurrah!) though why they insist on throwing in parsley I will never understand. Parsley generally ruins things. I stand by this statement, I am not a fan of parsley. Not in my soups or salads. It’s like chewing on grass. What else? Boiled potatoes were served at almost every meal that my hosts cooked throughout the whole of the Baltics. Herring and herring salads were plentiful to my delight. Beer was unexceptional. Sirki (chocolate covered cheese candies) grew on me and now I love them (these started from Russia). Dairy like kefir and yogurt was really, really good. Latvian black bread is the best I’ve had amongst all black bread.

photos from Jani
Photos from Latvia
Photos from Lithuania

Regarding Almost White Nights in Tallinn

Back to my belated travel tales:

When I arrived in Tallinn (back in Mid-june), and I was pleased to walk out into the night to find it still light. I hate arriving in unfamiliar locations in the dark and then having to find my way around while lugging a bulky bag back and forth between wrong directions.

Surprisingly I heard a lot of Russian around me so I immediately asked for directions to the hotel where my cs host works at. Initially I was still a tad uneasy about traveling alone (particularly after my not so fun time getting back to Budapest from Transylvania solo) but the unease passed swiftly because for once in my life, I was traveling in a foreign country where I actually spoke one of the main languages (although all the Baltic States have disavowed Russian and reinstated their native languages as the state policy). Nonetheless, in the big cities, Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius, a significant percentage of the population speaks Russian, and they often work in the service/tourist industries.

So the first two nights I stayed with a girl who was living at her mother's home until she left for school in Denmark. She has already spent a year working in London, and another working/studying in Wales. I am so jealous of the proximity of such interesting places for work and study for Europeans…it’s not quite as exciting to go from Illinois to Nevada or to Kentucky. Even if you go to LA or NY or Boston, it’s still the same language, more or less the same culture, nothing is quite so unfamiliar. Also, the distances in the U.S. are so much greater than Europe where it seems the standard flight is just 2 hours. Go such short distances in Europe and you find an entirely different language, set of customs, cuisine and temperament. Architecture doesn’t vary quite as much though. There’s always a main square and a cathedral.

Their house was half an hour on a bus out of town. This happens often when you are couchsurfing, and especially with such small cities it is unlikely for the hosts to be living in the very center. However, it’s pretty edifying sometimes, I think, because you get out of the little ‘tourist-area’ bubble and can see the socialist block housing that extends across so much of Eastern Europe. But anyways, their house was a legit house, wooden, with trees all around and a sauna indoors. Very cosy.

Adam dubbed these "crackstacks"


My host wasn’t working on Tuesday so she took me into Tallinn’s Old Town, a remarkably preserved medieval old town. Of course the weather was miserable and I was entirely soaked, so we just did some brief walks around, and then holed up in a student-dumpling place where they charge by the weight of the bowl you fill up with various dumplings. They also had boardgames and a book exchange so we engaged in an epic battle of Jenga that was observed and cheered on by all the other patrons.
Finally back home and back in all the warm layers I could assemble from my bag (I was hardly planning for being somewhere this cold and wet in the middle of June!), I cooked tomato-potato soup for my hosts, alternating between English for the daughter and Russian for her mom. Soup and full-length Pj’s…more like November in Chicago than summer in Europe.

I think every russian orthodox church in europe is named after Alexander Nevsky. Wonder who he is...


In the morning I packed up and went to meet my host for the next few nights, Anneli. After settling in at her place, I went to check out more of Tallinn (now in the sun, though still chilly), while she went back to work. It is a charming town, but small nonetheless, so I had my fill of old tower fortifications and narrow alleys pretty quickly and went to an extremely adorable café in the center square so as to use the city’s free wifi.

How do women insist on walking in high heels on these cobblestones?

P.S. Tallinn is very tech-savvy, albeit it’s hardly useful for tourists so not much noticeable. Everything is online or electronic, groceries, taxes, etc. Later when I was in Croatia (writing the draft for this), I sorely missed the ease and E-ness of everything. At the café I got to send some emails finally (I know, y’all think I am online all the time…but all the time is spent doing CS stuff and I always feel rude with hosts, spending so much time on the internet and not socializing with them), and then I got to chatting with one of the waiters, Adam, who lo and behold is an American. Pat on the back, me, for getting over shyness enough to talk to someone while not emboldened by the security of having companions at my side.

this jenga tower got out of hand


Unfortunately Adam set off a terrifying chain of unease in me, all regarding the status of my legality in Europe. Long story short, I spent many terrifying hours sifting through legal terminology, uninformed and misguiding internet forums and all other information I could get my hands on, only to realize that on an American Passport, citizens can go into the Schengen zone for 90 days within 180. The 180 was news to me, and the 90 days does not recharge if you leave the Schengen zone. All of this had been discussed before with other U.S. students but we all basically reinforced each others misguided notions and accepted what was easiest which was not getting a residence permit, thinking 90 days recharged by leaving and reentering Schengen. What can I say? I fully recognize and admit that I pulled the most basic of mistakes and acted the part of the stereotypical Stupid American who forges ahead arrogantly with little to no information. My fault entirely.

So, at this point in Tallinn, I was sitting there terrified that once I left Schengen (to switz or croatia) that I wouldn’t be able to get back in to Hungary and therefore my Ukraine trip with my family would be royally screwed. The blog post I wrote at that time (I think about Munich) was tremendously depressed because at the moment I figured Kate and my parents would play tug-of-war over who could take the first shot at me.
Well suffice to say none of this happened. I followed my plans, everything went smoothly, other than my racking stomach pain at every border crossing, and my passport is a myriad of various stamps. I will forever and anon make sure to get all proper visas/permits. On the other hand, I doubt I will ever again travel for quite such a long stretch of time anyway.

Old Town Tallinn fortifications


Meanwhile, while sorting through all the confusion and mess, Anneli was a complete angel who treated me like an old friend. We had some amusing nights out in the Tallinn old town with Adam and his friends which included dodging british stag parties, frequenting bars playing bad 90’s European music with big Russian guys starting brawls, and other bars that included a sleek one themed ‘white’ with all white vinyl décor, to underground ‘hipster’ cafes open all night. It was only dark for a max of 3 or 4 hours any night. Not quite white, but Almost white nights in Tallinn.

Tallinn photos

Regarding the Infamous Berlin Part I and Part II

Time Period: June 11-June 16th, written a few weeks later, finally posted...now.

Court and I got another rideshare to Berlin from Dresden, and again we were lucky enough that there was another rider to bear the brunt of the socializing, so we were able to sleep in the back. After some necessary internet-ing, dropping our bags with our host, Stephen and his son, we headed off for serious sightseeing. Our time was limited because Courtney was only staying 2 nights before heading off to Paris to meet Kate, while I was staying another 3 nights after she left. Stephen had a Lonely Planet specifically for Berlin so we used it for the walking tours, and we walked all through Mitte and Charlottenburg the first day.

I would have to say that Berlin is Big. I realize that there are larger cities, but my optimal size is something like Budapest—3 metro lines and a main tram cover it. Cities like Krakow are probably too small to keep me preoccupied in the long run, but a city like Berlin is rather overwhelmingly large with its endless S-bahns and U-Bahns. We were living in Neukolln while Courtney was there, which is a very Turkish area and that night was the Turkey vs. Switzerland game so the neighborhood was dead silent as everyone watched, and then full of car horns and yelling after Turkey won. We had some beers with Stephen and the 4 Brazilian CS’rs at his local Turkish joint before turning in when 2 more CS girls arrived from St. Petersburg. It was a full house.

Checkpoint Charlie


The next day Courtney and I headed off to see the Checkpoint Charlie Museum, which has been my favorite museum by far along this trip. The stories of people’s escape attempts from the East side of the wall are really moving and intriguing and it’s so strange to read and see all of this and realize that it was in the not-so-distant past in a country we normally consider to be so entirely Western. I highly recommend visiting this museum when you go to Berlin.

Self-explanatory


This was also the day of our caving in to our (or more strongly, my) temptations from having been away from the states for so long. We ate sushi and we went to see a movie (Forgetting Sarah Marshall). Many thanks to the Japanese culinary artists who created the winning combination of seaweed, rice, fish and ginger. Oh man, I miss sushi and I fully intend on having it asap upon returning to Chicago. And truly, it felt so good to be in a theater again! Little lab-top or ipod screens will absolutely never capture the (pardon my cliché) magic of the big screen that really allows you to become engrossed in a story and another world.

In the afternoon we hit up the Pergamon Museum, and then walked along the East Side Gallery on the longest remaining stretch of the wall which had grafitti from 70 artists, commissioned after the fall of the wall, and it was really cool although a lot of it has been grafitti-ed over by now.

also self-explanatory


The long day had a rather unpleasant ending, as the St. Petersburg CS girls were petulant and complaining about their sleeping space, and our host was drunk from hanging out with the Brazilians (a weird drunk), so it was kind of a strange environment. Courtney left early in the morning and I went to get internet and find a place for the next three nights.

Two hours later I met Walter, a Russian immigrant to Germany along the same lines as me (at a very early age). One of his 3 roommates had just moved out so I got an entire room to myself and basically they treated me as a roommate (they even offered for me to stay a month if I wanted, provided that I cook of course). The next few days I visited more of Berlin, with a daytrip to Potsdam, and hung out with Walter, his adorable French girlfriend Helene, and his rather silent&stoic roommate Stuntman Mike. Most notable of the additional Berlin sights was the Judisches Museum which had a very modern design and focused more on the history and contributions of German Jews over time than on the Holocaust, which was a refreshing difference after months of traveling and seeing loads of WWII and Cold War exhibitions. And most notable of staying with Walter & crew was seeing the ‘alternative’ side to Berlin, because one of the first things you notice upon arrival in the city (probably when you are the subway) is that everyone in the city is NUTS. I mean, really, they are weird. But there is definitely an artistic presence in the city, with loads of exhibitions, shows and so on.

My favorite images on the east side gallery (and fittingly they are the most cliche and widely known. i am so not hip. sue me.)



So one night, after hanging out and listening to some reggae, we head off for a party. Only we end up wandering for ages, as apparently the address that they had of the establishment was wrong but instead of giving up, they decide to proceed with the search. At this point it is going on 2 am and we have taken a number of metros as well as countless turns so I am hopelessly lost unless I pull out a map. Finally, at 3 am, we find what can only be termed as an ‘underground’ party in some likewise grungy ‘squat’ that has electronica pumping and the party going on till the late hours of the morning. Presumably this is normal. For Berliners.

On our way home (going on 7 am) we saw a funky hippy van which I commented on. Clearly a bad decision as Walter decided he should relate my compliments to the owners who were looking out the open door. The truest dirty-hippies you could ever find. Dirt was positively embedded in the wrinkles of their 50-year old foreheads, though they could have easily been in their thirties but just ravaged enough by drugs to seem much older. And before you think I am speaking out of prejudice, I assure you that I have always had quite the romantic view of hippies but there was plenty of evidence at the scene to support my comments. In a way, it was so stereotypical, their conversation, their appearance, etc. that it was a bit comic. Only it was 7 am and I was dead tired so not very open to humor.
Anyways, Berlin is a very specific city. Good times were had, new experiences, what all.
As the hippies would say, Peace.

I like that a lot of new buildings fit the old style


Berlin Photos
Potsdam photos (much less interesting)

Regarding Crazy King Ludwig’s Castles and a Budapest-Bamberg Reunion

I am back to continue my tales. If anyone is actually reading, I apologize for the late and intermittent nature of my posts.

The following occurred June 8-10th
Courtney and I headed off to visit Konigschlosser, the Bavarian castles built by Crazy King Ludwig which he modeled off of his beloved Wagner operas. As ridiculous as they were, these were SO my idea of fairytale castles and I am so glad they were built and went on to inspire Disney and his castle-building. Court and I hiked up to Neuschwanstein, ate some fries that only had curry-ketchup for a condiment (atrocity!), tried to avoid the rain to no great effect, and took the English-language tour that led us around the interior of the castle and its model grotto, its bedrooms with carved stories such as Tristan and Isolde, its opera hall, its fantastically huge kitchens and so on. The views from the nearby bridge, Marienbrucke, were lovely, with the castle draped in mist and the Alps draped in clouds, and my fairytale cravings were sufficiently satisfied.

Neuschwanstein from Marienbrucke


A chandelier inside, so gaudy, modeled on a medieval crown


We then had the lovely task of hopping between trains, because we were using the Bavaria Pass, which allows unlimited travel for up to 5 people in one day in Bavaria, but obviously only on the slower trains and a few changes were necessary. Eventually we did make it to Bamberg, only some half an hour late, but my view that all things German run on time has been forever shattered. The image of Courtney and I running between platforms, or shall I say, lumbering heavily while weighed down by our bags, is rather a funny one, admittedly, but not one I want to repeat.

In Bamberg we met with my friends from Budapest, Lena, Sarah and Markus, who live and study in this small Bavarian town known for its quantity of breweries. They showed us the town, made us try ham-smoked beer, took us to a great biergarten with the best cheese/meat plate (though the blood sausage was unnecessary) and generally—well it was great to see them again. I’ll miss them a lot.

Euro2008 pride for Germany has taken over this building


German love for pretzels


ham-smoked beer from a new cask


From an early start in the morning, we headed off with Sarah driving us to Dresden. Apparently she hadn’t even visited there in years, as she doesn’t actually like venturing into East Germany still for the generally ‘down’ attitude and different vibes there. Only 44 km away, her car began to have engine trouble (yes, we stopped directly next to a highway sign which gave us the accurate distance left to go). What can I say, apparently girls in dresses holding up “Hilfe” (help) signs next to a car with a popped hood does not move the various autobahn drivers to pity. But no matter, we were towed (my first time), the problem was fixed, and we got into Dresden with plenty of time still to see the city.

But first we had to leave our things at our couchsurfing stop for the night. On a quiet and clean street, as we search the numbers for the right one, we find the one building with grafitti and a general shabbiness. We ring the doorbell a few times, and finally a disheveled head pokes out of a 4th floor window and throws down a key without asking for any sort of explanation. As the girl who I corresponded with put it, 14 of them live in a “bourgeois household with two cats,” and from what we could tell it was basically an artist’s squat, with two very comfortable guest rooms entirely covered and stacked with mattresses. Hey, not sleeping on or very near to the floor…I am happy. We later found out from the one housemate we actually encountered that they do have a contract with the city so it is not a real squat, but they pay something ridiculously low like 65 euro each, and they don’t let just anyone into the house, so I guess my cs profile seemed either harmless or lefty enough.

Some 'artwork' on our cs locale for the night


So we went into town, passing some abandoned and destroyed looking buildings on the way, rather a shocker for me given that it was Germany, but finally got to the center which was pretty splendid and you could tell the city had some serious days of grandeur in its past. We saw the Frauenkirche which has been entirely rebuilt and only finished restoration in 2005 and has an interior that just says “Easter,” and we visited the Zwinger Palace Alte Museum, always trying to stay one step ahead of the Japanese tour group so we could get a measure of space while viewing the Caravaggios and other old masters. Then we simply rode around on the trams all day, which I highly recommend to anyone when you are tired and you want to get an orientation for the city you are in. We found what was probably the ‘bohemian’ neighborhood, peppered with interesting restaurants (standing-only Soup restaurant, etc.) and stores, and we got the most epic Durum Kebab and Turkish pizza and ate in a park entirely devoid of white-collar families but full of jugglers, Frisbee-throwers, guitarists, punks, and other such assorted folk. A funky place, Dresden.

courtyard of Zwinger


Back at the house, we never even got to meet Claudia, the girl I had messaged, as her son was asleep and we didn’t want to wake him so we hoped she would come by the room but it never happened. Oh well. Thank you Claudia for letting us stay.

Few random notes:
-Weisswurst, famous sausage of Bavaria and highly recommended…not a fan, sorry guys.
-Curryworst – curry ketchup smothering a sausage. Tragic desecration of a perfectly good sausage.
-Poppyseed ice cream in bamberg, wow. Then again, as far as I am concerned, poppy-seed anything is amazing.

Photos: Konigschlosser, Bamberg, Dresden

Regarding the Tamping Down of Raging Confusion and Relearning Bikes in Munich

Today is June 20th as I write this, and I am officially around two weeks late to write about these events. Loads of stuff has happened in the last few weeks, some great, some not so great, most double-sided, and yet I have been holding to my plan of writing this chronologically. Hence, you have been spared the seemingly huge decisions I have been faced with in the last few weeks (and some still facing).
Aaaah, my head kind of wants to explode.

So back to Germany, stop number two. We arrived in München sometime after midnight, and met our host, Sven. This guy was so nice as to agree to host us just the day before. Munich was quite difficult to get a host, we sent tons of messages, from Poland and then again from Cologne, but everyone was busy. I guess we were entering the high season finally, plus going to destinations that a lot of travelers go to. But in any case, Sven was generous enough to host us on such short notice and despite having some issues with one of his 2 flatmates (bit awkward, that).

The next day we went on a free bike tour around the city (Lenny’s free bike tours, free advert) which was most excellent. Designed for student and budget travelers, these tours run on tips alone, and still give a sufficient amount of history and detail along the way. Of course, the bikes were all identical beach cruisers, and the backpedaling brake is a concept that was entirely foreign to me. Despite my misgivings, you’ll be glad to know that I did not shame myself and managed to stay upright the entire time, with only one near collision that I successfully avoided. Afterwards, we visited the Olympic Village and the BMW Welt, so combined with the sights from earlier (a biergarten (the Chinese Tower), a nude beach, a river wave with crazy surfers, oh and some historic buildings), it was a very active and full day.
Surfing the one wave in the Englischer Garten



The Chinese Tower biergarten in the Englischer Garten


Olympic Village, not so eye-candy


BMW, igen igen!


Back at Sven’s, we proceeded to engage in more Bavarian beer tasting along with his friends. I now know the proper way to pour a Weissbier, and don’t worry Sven, we all really love Augustiner! Of course, at something like 2 am, he thought it was a brilliant idea to go out to a bar, and being his guests, we were obliged to join though we wanted nothing more than sleep at this point (I know, lame-o, but we haven’t slept much). Apparently smoking has been abolished indoors in everywhere but ‘private clubs’ so Barschwein requires the patrons to ‘sign up for the club,’ at which point we were presented with a worthless and shiny red plastic membership card, in order to enter the most claustrophobic and uncomfortable ‘closet’ of a room. Ick.

The following day, after a deep but short sleep, we visited the Deutsches Museum which is a paradise to be explored for ours on end for the science-minded, but not quite so idyllic for those craving a soft mattress. We also stumbled upon some kind of seafood festival, so Courtney and I got loads of herring and smoked fish for dinner to take to the biergarten (we went to the Augustiner Keller, because the Hopfbrauhaus was just ridiculously packed with tourists coming in from the rain). Euro2008, herring salad and mugs of beer almost too heavy to lift with one hand, that’s the life. It’s quite cool that biergartens allow patrons to bring their own food, like the reverse of the BYOB rule.

Herring Feast


That night we were staying in the Tent, a hostel that is basically mats on the ground in a huge tent (although they have another large tent with bunk beds). It was very nice to just chill to ourselves and not be obligated to socialize. That is a sort of dilemma with CS…on one hand we do it so that we meet people in all these cities, but on the other hand, sometimes you just want some time to yourself and not feel obligated to socialize every day. But usually CS is a good balance, no complaints, trust me. I sketched out a temporary itinerary for the Baltics, and Steve decided to stay behind in Munich and work at the Tent, as it had become evident that our plans for traveling together were based on some outdated beliefs and that reality wasn’t quite to either of our tastes.

Of course, this left me going to bed with loads on my mind: should I stick to the plan and see the Baltics, which I really want to, even if it means doing it alone? Or should I change plans, go visit some Erasmus buds in France or somewhere else? What will my parents say? Will I be tremendously bored and uncomfortable traveling alone or will I be fine? (i won't keep it a mystery from you...i am fine :-P)

Let’s just say that these past few months have had some serious ‘lessons in life.’ Expectations don’t always match reality, and events don’t always go according to plan. And I tend to have as big a hand in my own downfall as anything else I could blame. After all, it usually boils down to one's own negligence and believing what is convenient while disregarding what isn't. Simple platitudes you could say, but for some reason they never really stuck until I experienced them firsthand.

But not to end this on a terribly gloomy note that had nothing to do with the time in Munich. I actually really loved that city, in a way that wasn't just appreciative and adoring. It felt like I place I could actually live and work in, and not just enjoy while on holiday. I loved the beauty, the green spaces (so many parks!), the tons of bike riders throughout the city, and the modernity as well. I definitely hope to return and spend some more time there someday.

Photo link

Regarding a Welcome to the West in Köln

Where were we?

Our next stop after Wroclaw, Poland, was Köln, Germany. After the shortest flight of my life, a longer shuttlebus, and a bit of frustration trying to figure out the local city trains, we finally arrived at the flat of our host, Khaled, a student of forensic medicine in Cologne, but hailing from Dubai. He took us around for a walk of the city and my first impression of Germany was “Welcome to the West.” So many familiar stores, restaurants and establishments. Shopping streets, sleek and modern buildings, people of all color, and a plethora of sushi joints—it was like being back in America for a second. Cologne’s main attraction in terms of sightseeing is its famous cathedral, but apart from that there are only a few cobblestoned streets to denote an ‘old town’ so in some ways it is very much not a picturesque or typical destination for a tourist. Simply a western city.

Looking up at the Cathedral

Nonetheless, it had a comfortable vibe, with warm weather and loads of terraced restaurants, and it was a pleasant change to see something more bustling and city-like. Definitely very different from Hungary or Poland.

We visited House 4711, one of the original locations for the creation and sale of Cologne, or rather, Eau de Cologne aka. Water of Cologne. Technically it is an eau de toilette (perfume), and it is unisex, though the term itself, "cologne," is now a generic term that spreads beyond the fresh stuff created in the city.

On our second day we went wandering around again, and cooked dinner at Khaled’s flat. Then we met another CS-er, a Bulgarian on an internship in Cologne, and went for some Kolsch beer which is local to Cologne and found a ridiculously cheap but therefore sufficiently cheesy club (Cent Club, decent beer for 1 euro, good beer for 1.5 euro). The one thing Germans definitely share with all their European neighbors: an unfortunately high incidence of male mullets. Nem szexi.

Courtney and I were so happy in this Oil and Vinegar Store

The next day we found the most adorable café, because we needed to get wireless, and this way we got access to internet plus an omelette, what more can one ask for? (Café Orlando, check it out).God I love that most cafes have wireless. Goodbye to the days of internet cafes where the speed is nonexistent and the ambience is entirely lacking. Free wifi, igen!

Germans love their bread. You should hear
Sarah gush on and on about "real german bread"

In the afternoon we met our ride and headed off for Munich. So, here comes another explanation on how to save money and travel. In Germany, although the trains might run on time (but not always, more on that later), they are usually godawful expensive and subject to strikes. Hence, from the wise words of wiki-travel and some German friends, we discovered that Germans have established a number of ‘rideshare’ or carpooling services. Riders or drivers can post where they are going and for what price, and then get in contact. So to Munich the three of us and a student from Cologne squeezed into the car of a sports journalist and rode the 5 hours down for less than half the price of a train ticket. Don't worry everyone, this is NOT hitchhiking, and we weren't alone.

photos are at: http://picasaweb.google.comLenav09GermanyKolnCologneWelcomesYouToTheWest

Regarding Krakow and Getting Spoiled by Hosts

As I draft this post, we are on a train from Krakow to Wroclaw, listening to rowdy football fans chant for their team and waving away the smoke from the cigarettes of the people sharing our compartment. I could use a fan, although a tanned acolyte waving a palm branch would work. I kid, I kid. The trains here (and as in Hungary or Romania) are by no means modern. There is a distinct lack of airflow, and while some choose to brave the stuffy compartments, the rest, mostly leather-skinned and grimy men, hang out in the corridors, leaning out the windows and watching the country move past. I would say “fly by” but the speed of the trains is also rather lacking. I do so love train travel though. Honestly, I do.

Krakow was lovely and our time there with our hosts was truly memorable (I predict that I am going to be really cheesy so I will apologize now). Woot for couchsurfing!

The very first night of our arrival, our host Barbara invited us to a BBQ. Hark! the smell of charcoal and grilled meats, fireflies in the night and a starlit sky—I do believe summer is officially upon us. Yes, I recognize that I said that before in regards to some other ‘summer’ sign, but seriously, who gets sick of realizing its summer, again and again?! The BBQ was held in a park/farm where Krakow citizens can rent out small plots for personal gardens, and it was a really nice welcome into the city, preparing shashliks, and chatting with young locals, some of whom were just recently back from the UK where it appears a lot of Polish go to for work.

Barbara and her husband Andrej live in a very attractive flat in a neighborhood with many apartment developments (not of the soviet peeling-paint and chipped concrete variety). They have two other flatmates, the adorable Ela and the ghost Christian (he was never around), and they have been traveling, hosting, couchsurfing, trying various sports (kite surfing) and becoming generally incredible for quite some time.

So the first morning, after breakfast with Barbara and Andrej, we set off into town and did a big loop until we found the shuttle bus the guidebook wrote of, heading to Wielizcka. You know, when you leaf through a guidebook prior to purchasing, you become convinced that it is perfectly adequate and contains all of the possible information you could need for your travels. But I have to ask, why, if the authors Know the location, would they write something as vague as “near the bus and train station?!” That’s rather a lot of ground to cover! Anyways, it did give me the opportunity to practice my polish…nah, who am I kidding, I basically just used Russian throughout, which luckily enough is very similar, at least for many key phrases such as “Where is…?” But it was pretty fun deciphering Polish, and actually communicating, something which is nigh impossible in Hungary.

Statue out of Salt of King Kazimierz, owner of the mines


Wielizcka are salt mines that have been in use in Poland since the 12th century. Sometime in the 19th century they became open for general tourists, but various important visitors have been allowed since the 15th century: Copernicus, Goethe, etc. The tour begins by descending 380 steps into the first level of the mine, from which point we were led by the most deadpan and stolid Polish guide through various rooms carved out of the rock salt with fanciful carvings (also in rock salt), of dwarves, Hungarian princesses, statues of famous visitors and more. I definitely had a feeling of Lord of the Rings as we walked through. There was also a cavernous chapel, a few salt lakes, and some huge rooms not held up with any supports. The furthest we descended was 135 km underground, which I believe was only the 3rd of some 9 levels, and we were only seeing a mere 2% of the full scale of the mines. I think Courtney and I will have to haggle over who will have their wedding in the grand banquet hall underground, a site we have deemed suitably ridiculous yet beautiful and historic. J/k.

Looking down the staircase of 380 steps


Back in town, we wandered quickly through the Stare Miesto (old town) which is very small but cute and absolutely peppered with bars and restaurants. The Rynek Glowny (Main Market aka Center Square) is unfortunately full with flocks of tourists and souvenir stands, but we did submit to temptation and shared a grand dinner of shashlik and Black Pudding. In theory, I always wanted to stay away from black pudding, as congealed blood does not particularly appeal to me, but I was suckered in because this black pudding, ‘kaszanka,’ looked more like kasha than like thick and solid slices of black sausage. But anyways, it wasn’t too bad, though I don’t think I’ll be craving it anytime ever.

Returning to the flat, we spent the evening drinking wine with Barbara. She is such a pleasant and interesting person, and damn but she has traveled everywhere! In a way she actually reminded me of my mom, I think because they have a similar kind of open and curious attitude.

On Friday, the 30th, we visited Auschwitz. I don’t really want to write too much about this, but it was sickening to physically walk through this evil place that I had read so many accounts of. I was never actually brought to tears-- it was such an incongruous day to visit, it seemed, as all the images in my head were of bitter cold and snow and freezing inmates, and here it was a hot day, and the surrounding countryside was green and lush. Also, empty barracks and the sheer numbers of casualties is something hard to comprehend and conceptualize, but the entire visit I did have such an ill and nauseous pit-of-stomach feeling. The exhibits of people’s belongings and the hair, good god, that was just horrific. You can read all you want, but it will never seem truly possible or real, and here it is, this memorial and testament to the terrors humans can inflict on one another. Birkenau, which did not have many exhibits and was only a short part of the visit, actually left more of shocking impression, just because of its sheer size—rows upon rows of barracks, guard towers, barbed wire, in a bleak and flat expanse that stretches on and on.

Well, it was necessary to visit. Not to quote any cliché big-thinkers, but such atrocities must be remembered. Barbara actually mentioned, when Andrej asked us why we chose to visit Poland, that she feels that Auschwitz is the main reason to come, and I found that very interesting and also I am glad that not only American Jews feel that this is an important location. Oh, and while we were there, some 50 Israeli soldiers were going through, in full uniform—kind of a big “F-You, we have guns now and won’t take this s&*t.”

Back in Krakow, we went for dinner with Heena, a British friend of my Budapest Irish friend, who is studying in the city. Along with her friends, they took us around Kazimierz and Krakow by night, where the pubs and terraced bars are absolutely thriving. It didn’t seem so much a ‘clubbing’ city, but more of an atmosphere of ‘have a few drinks and chat,’ which was very charming, though being rather bushed and bummed from the day’s previous activity, we headed home not too late. Heena introduced us to Tatanka, a drink with Zubrowka (buffalo grass vodka) and apple juice, which in combination tastes like cold liquid apple pie. Yum! And, we also tried an actual apple pie, Szarlotka, which to my delight, was exactly like my mom’s, and not the horrid American style excuse for a dessert.

Apple Pie 'Szarlotka'


Following the free beer man on Saturday


On Saturday, the 31st, we finally went all around Krakow by daylight (Wawel Hill, Kazimierz the Jewish Quarter) and we searched for ingredients to fajitas, which we decided to cook for our hosts. Dunno if you recall my earlier posts about grocery shopping frustrations in Budapest, but yea---ingredients can be damn hard to find in an unfamiliar city, especially tortillas! Dinner and wine and conversation with Barbara, Andrej and Ela was loads of fun and truly, this couchsurfing project is bloody great cuz we would never have met them otherwise. If we were just staying at hostels, I think we’d rarely meet people (yes, we can be shy!), let alone locals from the places we visit. And it’s more than just a couch, a thank you and move on—I really, really enjoyed our time staying with Barbara and her flatmates and (cheesy coming on) I would hope that we are actually friends now. Silly cheesy me  They may have spoiled us for future hosts, haha.

And now…onwards to Wroclaw. Do Videnia!

(I am posting this way way late, and unfortunately it hasn't let me add photos the last few times I tried so...here are all the photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/Lenav09/PolandKrakow.

Regarding the popping of our couchsurfing cherry

Of course, no epic journey can begin without some kind of drastic catastrophe (think Kate & Passport of Italy 2006; Courtney & Visa for Edinburgh at the start of this year; and so on). So, complacent and worriless us, are sitting around all day Sunday, packing, cleaning the flat, stopping for food breaks, and thinking we have plenty of time until our train at 22:00. Only, at 20:38, we finally check our tickets, to recognize to our blank shock and horror that the train in fact left at 20:00. Sheer negligence. Utterly depressing and no excuses.

On an interesting note, my facebook Tarot card of the day was the “Fool”: desiring to achieve many things without realizing the effort entailed. Aaaah, if the effort to check the ticket was only made!!!

Moment of silence for recognition of the waste.

But in perspective, it’s better to have had such a stupid mishap occur while we still had a home and were in a familiar location. (Rationalization at work, I realize). Truly though, alertness and organization will now be the orders of the day.

So Monday, the 26^th, we took an 8:35 train to Warsaw, arriving 12 long hours later in Warszawa Centralna. Maciek, our host, was waiting for us, with another couchsurfer, Konrad, from Germany. I guess this is where I fill you in on our brilliant plans for backpacking through Europe on the pitifully low funds that we have: the CouchSurfing Project. Travelers around the world create profiles and offer their couches while they are at home, and request to stay at couches when they go traveling. Hospitality for weary travelers like in the old days, pure and simple. Plus, you are more or less guaranteed to make friends and have interesting encounters and conversations.

Warsaw was our first stop, and so Maciek was our first host, as Konrad and we were his first surfers. Pop goes the couchsurfing cherry, all around! Maciek is the consummate host and has probably set the bar far too high for all future hosts I will encounter—he picked us up from the airport, fed us, drove us into town, showed us around when he could, and arranged for a friend to be our guide when he had to go into the University. Moreover, he and his friend are complete gentlemen and always insisted on helping Courtney and I with our bags, to our American-Independent-Girl embarrassment (and gratitude of course).--Don’t worry, Mom, we were absolutely grateful and brought wine and left a gift.-- Maciek lives with his parents and his sister, and we had some amusing conversations between English, Polish, Russian and German. They had a very cozy and welcoming flat, with lots of plants and flowers, two cats, and his mother’s homemade tea brew. It was a fair bit out of the city center, and was within a block of apartments with their own stores, cinema and nearby Carrefour. Kind of like the area near AMC Cinemas in Naperville, barren and bland but the indoors are always nice.

The Little Insurgent

On Tuesday, May 27^th, after breakfast (Thanks Maciek), we went into town. A 24 hr day pass costs an incredibly cheap 3.60 zl (~$1.70)! We wandered around the Stare Miesto (Old Town) and then went into the Warsaw History Museum where we saw a film on the destruction of Warsaw during WWII. So Stare Miesto---not so Stare, it’s all been entirely reconstructed, with historical accuracy of course. Saw some other sights (check out the photos), and we had lunch at a Bar Mleczny, a milk bar. In communist days, these places had subsidized food and particularly lots of dairy products, hence the name. These also inspired the Milk Bars of Anthony Burgesses’ A Clockwork Orange. Not saying thanks to the reds, but the brilliant thing is that the Bar’s Mleczny still serve incredibly low-priced polish food (5 zl for soup and pierogis = $2.35), to the delight of pierogi-and-barszct fiends like Courtney and myself. Since Germany is going to bankrupt us and doesn’t have particularly enticing food anyway, we plan on eating our fill of Slavic yumminess now. Bar Mleczny, every day baby.

On Wednesday, May 29^th, we saw Konrad off at the train station, and visited Zilienski Park with Maciek and his friend.

Palace on the Water in Zielinski Park

Maciek left us with his friend who continued guiding us and saw us off—he was pretty hilarious, very knowledgeable about pop culture and he dropped more names than I probably could. We dropped into the Ghetto, which mostly has no remnants left of its Jewish history, but we saw the rather underwhelming Jewish Historical Institute. It’s probably a great place for significant research, but the exhibits on the Holocaust and the ghetto uprising left much to be desired.

Overall Warsaw was nice, particularly as any thought I’d given to it previously had dealt with WWII, and it’s been entirely reconstructed since—clean buildings, lots of parks. Still, I didn’t get a sense of a cohesive center, it seemed too big and too industrial (first time I’ve seen skyscrapers in Europe since Milan), and it obviously still had the commie presence with all the aesthetic-lacking apartment blocks.

Now we are on a train for Krakow (2 for 3!) and we’ll be meeting our next host within a few hours. Stay tuned…