Monty, Greece, and HOME

The last leg of the trip that David and I took together was in Tuscany. We stayed in a small town called Montecatini, from which we took trains each day to neighboring cities. To be honest, we chose Montecatini, which we affectionately called “Monty,” because it was the cheapest place to stay in Tuscany. We were expecting a run-down ghost town, but we found an adorable spa town, complete with good restaurants and gelato and a huge park and a funicular. For the first time on this trip, we were the only “youths” staying at our hotel, which was actually nice and in the middle of town. Basically, we loved Monty.

Our first night there was a little rough though. David hadn’t meditated in almost 2 weeks, which we both knew was going to end badly but who wants to meditate when you’re travelling? Basically, we went to find dinner and it took awhile and we finally settled for some rather crappy pizza and then David stopped acting like himself and we realized he needed to meditate. We rearranged our plans for the next morning, so that David could go to the park and journal, while I walked around town and bought lunch supplies. Then we boarded a train to Pisa, which we unfortunately ran to catch (only to realize that we needn’t have run. We ate lunch on the train, bought a little guidebook at the train station, and then did some processing while walking around the river Arno in Pisa. We got some tasty gelato by the river, and then took a roundabout route the Leaning Tower. We meant to walk there directly but got a little lost and ended up stumbling upon it, which was really cool. After laying in the grass and reading our guidebook’s section on the Tower, we bought tickets to enter the other monuments in the Piazza dei Miracoli: the Cathedral, the Baptistery, and the Monumental Cemetery. First, we entered the Cathedral, which looked like a cathedral. It was huge, with impressive paintings covering the walls and the tomb of the patron saint of Pisa, whose name I’ve forgotten. The most impressive part, though, was the pulpit. Around the top, there were intricate carvings depicting the life of Jesus that were just amazingly expressive and detailed. Next, we entered the accompanying Baptistery. As soon as I began reading from our guidebook, an administrative man started shushing everyone and then, from the center of the Baptistery, he began singing. The shape of the Baptistery amplified his voice in a beautifully powerful way that made me think about what it must have been like to hear that when it was built in the 12^th century. After the sound demonstration, David took the stairs to the top of the Baptistery. While he was gone, I heard someone whistle Rue’s four-note song from Hunger Games. A few other whistlers followed the first, until the administrator shushed them, and I thought that whoever started that chain must be so cool. Of course, when David came back he looked like a kid in a candy shop and said, “Did you hear me whistle??” After the Baptistery, we saw the Monumental Cemetery, which actually wasn’t that big. It was almost completely destroyed by bombs in World War II, and it still in the process of being restored. 

Panorama at the Piazza dei Miracoli (left to right: Baptistery, Monumental Cemetery, Cathedral, and the Leaning Tower)

After we had completed our tour of the Piazza dei Miracoli, I went purse shopping. I had a very specific image in my head of a big red purse, and I ended up finding one for 20 euro. Given the price, I know it is low quality but I love it nonetheless. Once I had acquired my new purse (and done some purse-ception), we headed to dinner at a restaurant I’d found online known for its gnocchi. We had appetizers of peas and cuttlefish (which David ordered, but I ate most of) and mushrooms with parmesan (which I ordered but David ate most of), and we both had gnocchi. I love gnocchi, so I was very pleased, but I think David missed “normal pasta.” After dinner, we took a late-night train back to Monty. The first leg was on a rickety old train, that was almost completely empty, and was thus very creepy. David started telling ghost stories, aiming to freak me out, but then we both ended up scared. Once we got back to Monty, it wasn’t creepy, but we decided that maybe we should avoid late-night trains.

The next day, we went to Florence and had a pretty rough day. Last year, when I was in Florence with my grandparents, I absolutely loved it. It was my favorite city we visited, and I had very fond memories (and high expectations) associated with it. I suppose I should have foreseen disappointment. When we arrived, David started getting stressed out by the crowds and our inability to find the Accademia, which houses Michelangelo’s David. We were expecting a long wait, but we didn’t even stand in line for five minutes before entering the Accademia. David (the statue, not the boyfriend) was just as amazing as I’d remembered him, and David (the boyfriend) was appropriately impressed. We had a good half hour of wandering around and looking at art and then David disappeared. I spent a good 10 minutes looking for him and getting frustrated, and just as I was about to give up and move on, he came wandering by and saw me. Apparently, he’d spontaneously decided to go back to the first room, and hadn’t thought to tell me. In hindsight, it really doesn’t sound like that big of a deal, but in the moment it felt very disrespectful, so we sat in the courtyard and talked about it for awhile before moving on. By the time we left the Accademia, we were really hungry. We had planned to go to a nearby market for lunch, but when we got there, it was crowded and loud and overwhelming and did I mention crowded? We tried looking around but we realized pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to work. Once we left, we didn’t know what to do. David ended up getting a kebab, and then we looked at tourist menus until we found a suitable one. When we sat down, I realized that it was the same restaurant where my grandparents and I had stopped, under similar circumstances, the year before. Given the vast number of touristy restaurants in Florence, I was shocked. I was also comforted because I remembered the food being pretty good. We got some yummy pizza and veggies, before heading to the Duomo.

Last year, the Duomo was one of my favorite things we did in Florence. I sped up the 450-ish stairs in the dome and the adjacent bell tower, and I felt that the space actually managed to be peaceful in the middle of a big city. This time was very different.

David waited in line outside the Duomo, while I went to buy tickets for the dome and the Baptistery. I was hesitant to pay 10 euros for my ticket, given that I wasn’t sure if I could even climb up the dome with my knee, but I decided to go for it anyways. As we walked into the Duomo, there were these two men standing at the entrance, and one of them looked at me and said gruffly, “No shorts.” I was stunned, and then confused. Everyone else was walking by and I was told to stop. The man just kept saying “No shorts” with no trace of sympathy or an offer to help. He merely pointed at a stack of hideous baby blue ponchos. I went to grab one, but then the woman behind the counter turned a sign around that read, “1.50 euro.” When it became clear that I was not paying to enter the church at everyone else got to enter for free, the woman suggested I try tying my jacket and David’s jacket around my waist to form a skirt. I did, and I went into the church, but by this time the entire weight of patriarchy in the church had came crashing down on top of me. I couldn’t believe that two men were standing at the entrance to the church telling women what they could and could not wear, apparently suggesting that they knew the point at which women were showing too much skin for God. It was infuriating and demoralizing, especially as a woman who struggles with body image, to be told that my body, dressed appropriately for the weather, needed to be covered up in order to enter a sacred place. On the other hand, I understood that I was entering a religious place and should be respectful. Even so, I was leveled by the power that religion has over how people perceive themselves, and the fundamental patriarchy in the church and society. I just couldn’t move past the idea that men were denying women free access to the Cathedral because of their clothing. To me, it reflected society too accurately for comfort.

David being silly in front of Santa Maria Novella

 After standing by a pew with David and quietly crying for a bit, I let go of the idealized notion I’d had of the Duomo, and we decided to move on. We would come back to Florence the next day and try again, but at that moment, we had to get out of the city. We took a train back to Monty and decided to take the funicular to the top of the hill by the city. After getting lost (and accidentally breaking into an outdoor classical concert, whoops) we found the funicular, which was adorable. It was old and red, and it went so slowly. When we got to the top, the view was just fantastic. We took a nice walk around the perimeter of the hill (it wasn’t that big) and found a restaurant for dinner. Dinner was lovely. We ordered caprese salad, a traditional Tuscan soup, and spaghetti ragu. When it came time to order dessert, though, we pretty much crashed and burned. David ordered immediately after dinner, without asking if I wanted anything or looking at a menu, which basically made me feel like I shouldn’t eat dessert. I knew that it shouldn’t bother me so much, so I tried to let it go but it was really obvious that I was shut down. David got frustrated that I was overreacting so much. He is trying really hard to support me while I’m working on my issues, but it’s hard for me to see because it’s just so easy to set them off. We talked for the thousandth time about how he can support me best, with the understanding that sometimes he will still mess up and I will still overreact.

(On a related note, on Wednesday, we were talking about our plans for after we went our separate ways the next day. I was saying that what I’d want for breakfast would depend on what I was going to have for lunch and David turned to me with this giddy look in his eyes and says, “I’m not eating lunch with you tomorrow!” It was like he had found a “Get Out of Jail Free” card. I cracked up and he started trying to explain that he didn’t mean to sound so excited. It’s just really stressful to eat with me, and I know that. It was absolutely hilarious how excited he sounded to just walk into a restaurant that looked good and eat there, instead of the painstaking process of research/menu-reading/atmosphere-examining that I go through.)

The next morning, we took a train to Florence and tried again. When we got off the train, we started acting like we’d never seen the city before: “Look at that church! It’s so beautiful!” “Hey look! A park! With a coffee shop and, what’s that over there, is that the Duomo?” The silliness worked, I suppose, because we had a fantastic day.

As we were leaving the train station, this guy in the street stopped cold and stared at David, and then David did the same to him and then they hugged. It was surreal, until David explained that this man was Austin Somebody-Or-Other who went to his church growing up. Apparently he and his wife were honeymooning there. His wife and I both commented on how we weren’t surprised David and Austin ran into someone they knew.

After our weird encounter, I got coffee on the way to the Duomo, where we waited in line to climb the dome. Apparently, drinks are not allowed in the Duomo, so I kind of chugged it in line with the knowledge that at least that rule isn’t sexist. I was really worried about climbing the Duomo with my knee. I was trying to be okay with turning around if I felt like I should, but I never ran into a problem. I just climbed carefully and slowly, and everything was fine! It was great. The views at the top were fantastic and we got some beautiful pictures. I loved getting the see the frescoes on the dome up close again. They were just as creepy as I remembered (they depicts the Last Judgment).  On the way down the stairs (we counted 440, but we saw a bunch of different figures, all between 400 and 450), David’s knee started to hurt pretty badly. We may both be getting our knees treated this summer. After the Duomo, we visited the Baptistery, which looked like a baptistery. The impressive feature to me is actually the doors. Well, one specific door. The panels depict biblical scenes by Ghiberti, who won the commission this massive competition. The panels are impressive, but the story is what makes them cool to me.

View of the Campanile from the Duomo

Then we went to the Bargello, a museum in a old prison/castle, which houses a huge art collection including Donatello’s bronze David, which (boyfriend) David wanted to see. I’d already seen it last year, and it cost a fair amount to go in, so I waited outside while he saw David. Then we walked to this pizza place that I’d found online, which turned out to be closed. We punted and ate at this buffet across the street, which turned out to be great (yummy bread and salad!). After lunch, because we figured we hadn’t climbed enough stairs already, we hiked up to Piazzale Michelangelo, which overlooks the city. It was cool to see a panoramic view of the city from a non-central vantage point. We also walked to see St. Miniato church, which was just behind the Piazzale. The church was very old (12^th century I think) and not at all touristy. It houses the remains of St. Miniato, who first brought Christianity to the area and was martyred. I thought that the underground room devoted to his grave would be creepy, but it actually felt very sacred. There was a glass section with pieces of the saint’s remains visible (this has a name, but I’ve forgotten it), and as I was sitting there looking at it, it hit me that saints are not entirely fictional characters. Intellectually, I obviously knew this but something about actually seeing bones and a tomb made it clearer to me, which I suppose is the point of having the tomb in the church. It rained a little while we were in the church and cooled off for our walk down the hill and to gelato. The gelato was so delicious, and there was an apparently important tennis match being played on TV, which I enjoyed and David ignored. After gelato, we walked to St. Croce, a church/art museum, which we decided was too expensive to go into. Then we walked back to the Duomo so we could look inside once more (my shorts were still too short but I’d brought a scarf to cover myself with this time). It was much prettier when I wasn’t crying and lamenting patriarchy. 

View of Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo

We wandered around a little more, walking through some markets and the Ponte Vecchio, a bridge famous for its expensive jewelry shops. Then we caught a train back to Monty and had dinner at a restaurant called “Il Piccolo.” We ordered yummy thin-crust pizzas and this amazing eggplant appetizer, and found out afterwards that their specialty is their pasta. So we decided to come back the next night and order pasta. After dinner, we went to get some gelato at the place we’d found earlier, which was delicious.

The next days, our last day of travel together, we decided to go to small neighboring town called Prato. It was a rather ill-fated trip, to be honest, but we managed to salvage the day well. First off, we overslept and had to take a later train than we’d meant to. Then our later train was delayed about half an hour (for a half hour trip). When we finally got there, we went looking for this pizza place that I’d found and it was a really long walk away from the center of town. When we got there, we found that it was closed, and we were really hungry and didn’t know where to eat. We ended up spending about an hour searching for somewhere to eat. Finally, we gave up our search for pizza and settled for pasta at this adorable café, which I really wish I could have enjoyed more. In hindsight, it was great. Our waitress spoke literally one word of English (“Good”) and the food was delicious. I just couldn’t calm down because the plan had changed and I didn’t know exactly what I was ordering or how it would come prepared and I couldn’t ask for things I wanted because I didn’t speak Italian. Basically, I was a big ball of stress. See why David was excited to not eat lunch with me the next day?

Anyways, after lunch, we went to the biggest church in town, which boasts some frescoes by Filipo Lippi, who is apparently famous. We saw them and then took a bus to a Medici Villa that is about 20 minutes outside the city. Entrance was free and the grounds were beautiful. From what we gleaned from glancing in the windows, the inside was gorgeous too. We could have gone inside, but only with a guided tour that we were afraid would trap us into an hour of watching people look at furniture. So we played cards on the grounds instead, and then took a bus back to Prato and train back to Monty. Once we were back in Monty, our day improved considerably. We walked to the park and watched puppies (a Golden Retriever puppy came up and licked David’s hand, and I think he’s finally sold on the necessity of dogs in life), and played cards. Then we went to the hotel to back up, before heading to our restaurant for dinner. I was brave and tried a new appetizer that I’d been admiring: cantaloupe with Parma ham. It was tasty and fun to try, even if I wouldn’t necessarily order it again. Then I had tagliatelle with clams, mussels, octopus, and cuttlefish (I was feeling really brave), which was so excellent. It reminded me of the clam linguine my family used to make all the time. After dinner, we went to get gelato again. Luckily, our gelateria was right around the corner from our restaurant. It was so tasty!

The next day neither of us wanted to start the day, because it would mean accepting that we had to take trains to different cities. Our whole big adventure to Europe together was coming to an end and we simply would not go along with it. Except that we had to. So we eventually got up, decided to take a later train than we’d planned and went for a walk around Monty. We came back to the hotel and checked out, and ate breakfast before going to the train station. Both of our routes went through Florence, so we took that train together. Once in Florence, we needed reservations, so we waited in an eternal line and decided to push our departure back once more, so that we could go sit outside the train station and eat together before going our separate ways (so David ended up eating lunch with me anyways, whoops). Eventually, we actually did have to say goodbye and it was awful. Neither of us wants to go back to long-distance-ing or even living 45 minutes apart. It’s just so great to spend so much time together. We’ll really miss it.

The rest of David’s trip will take him to Rome, Pompeii, Venice, Bratislava, and then back to Prague. I, on the other hand, took a train to Milan and then a flight to Athens the next morning. When I got off the train in Milan, I suddenly realized how much worse travelling is when you’re alone. I had to just stop and make a detailed mental checklist so I wouldn’t get completely lost in the craziness of the huge station. Eventually, after more than an hour, I made it to my hostel, which was a good ways outside of the center of town. I checked in and collapsed on one of the spare beds. I chugged my water bottle and ate a snack while checking Facebook. Eventually, I was rested enough to go outside again. I went walked to find a pizza place I’d looked up online because I still hadn’t had thick-crust pizza and that wasn’t okay. On my way I walked through a few parks, one of which featured a huge group of men and women playing cards, and a grocery store. I walked back the train station and bought a train ticket that would take me to the Milan airport the next morning (the airport is 50 km outside the city). Then I went to dinner and it was so fantastic. The pizza was perfect and cheap, and then I even found a gelato place with mint chocolate gelato. It was a great last night in Italy.

The next morning, I woke up early, packed up, and took the metro to the train station, where I caught a train to the airport. I ended up getting to the airport 2.5 hours early and to the gate 1.5 hours early. The check in desk wasn’t even open when I showed up. Apparently, when David isn’t with me I just turn into him.

The trip in Greece with my famiy was excellent. We were on a little ship with just the six of us (my parents, sister, and grandparents) and Tomek, our skipper (which I quickly laearned is the term for the captain of a small boat). We travelled around the Peloponnesian Peninsula and to a few small islands, including Poros and Hydra (an island with almost no cars). We explored the small towns on those islands and went swimming secluded beaches. It was really very idyllic. But more than being in Greece, it was mostly just wonderful to reconnect with my family after being apart for so long. After being on the boat for a week, we spent four days in Athens. The city was a little stressful after the tranquility of the boat, but after adjusted we had a nice time visiting all the touristy sites. 

Surprisingly well-preserved ampitheater in Epidavros

Beautiful!

Poor donkey on Hydra

Acropolis from the Agora

Best preserved temple at the Agora in Athens

We just arrived home this afternoon, and I’m setting about to adjusting to home life again. The absence of our fluffy puffball of love is palpable, and I know that will be the hardest part of this transition. We are going puppy shopping soon, I think. Other than that, though, coming home has been wonderful.

Sign in the airport!

As we were landing in the Austin airport, I remembered my dad driving me there very early one morning in February. At that time, I felt like I would never come home. My semester in Prague, as exciting as it seemed, also seemed eternal and intimidating. Now that I am home, having experienced so much over the past four months, I am still astounded that I had this opportunity. I feel so blessed.

Eternal Blog Post, Parts I & II: Leaving Prague, the Eiffel Tower, Tapas, Popes, Baguettes, and Beaches

Part I:

The past week has been chockfull of transitions. Traveling makes the days feel very long, so it feels like I haven’t blogged in a long time. Tuesday was my last day of classes. As I walked to Czech class in the morning, I was reminded of my first day of classes when I walked a similar route and marveled at the beauty of the same things. In my last Czech class, we watched a documentary on the Velvet Revolution (the Czech’s peaceful overthrow of communism in 1989). That evening, I had my last Literature of Prague class, in which we went to a play as a class. The play was put on by a Shakespeare group and it was an English translation of Kafka’s unfinished play “Amerika.” It was put on in the attic of a small building in between Old Town and Wenceslas Square. Because it was a play by Kafka, I was expecting absurdity, and it lived up to that criteria. It was a great experience, especially because I really liked my classmates and teacher in that class. It was a really fun way to end my AAU classes.

View on the way to school on my last day

Walking across Charles Bridge to my last Czech language class

 My last day in Prague was Wednesday, and I basically spent the whole day saying goodbye to the city. David and I walked around the touristy areas for one last time. We stopped by Wenceslas Square and Old Town Square, and we finally put the lock that I gave David (on his second day in Prague) on the lock bridge, and we noted the changes we’d seen on the Lennon Wall. I got a coffee at Costa Coffee (kind of like Czech Starbucks, except they also have Starbucks), which I’d been meaning to do for that past four months. Then David had to go to class, so I walked through Petrin to Kampa. When I got there, I realized I had a notebook but no pen to write with and no book to read. It dawned on me that I didn’t need anything to do, so I just sat and watched the park affect people. During my time in Prague, Kampa has become a sanctuary for me. There is something magical about it, and I don’t mean “magical” as a synonym for “beautiful.” I mean there is something mystically stirring about that place, which I cannot explain. Something about being in the middle of the Vltava river, surrounded by green grass and huge trees allows my soul to rest in a way that few places can. I knew it would be a difficult goodbye, to leave a place that had been so comforting to me. I went with hours to spare, just in case I felt the need to stay. I laid on a bench in the shade and watched the wind move the leaves across the blue sky. I got up to leave but then settled down in sunny spot in the grass and took a nap. I stood up to leave again, but then moseyed around the island a bit more before standing by the elevator and soaking up feeling of the place one more time. I asked the P/power that I felt manifested in Kampa, and especially in the trees, to let me take its peace with me. I stood by an especially P/powerful tree and put my hands on it, and I felt peaceful and strong. That reserve of peaceful strength has been very helpful over the past week when I’ve felt overwhelmed.

Kampa Island

Selfie at Kampa

 On Wednesday, I also took up another activity that may have made me look a little crazy. Saying goodbye to things has always been a helpful practice for me. I was feeling very tense about the transitions that lay ahead, so, under my breath, I started saying things like, “Goodbye apartment, goodbye metro, goodbye Karlovo Namesti, goodbye Albert grocery store, goodbye bus stop, goodbye trams…” I felt like I was narrating “Good Night Moon,” but it was helpful nonetheless. I said goodbye to my roommates, and we all wished each other safe travels and good summers and such. The next morning, David and I made the early morning trek to the train station and headed to Paris, the first of eight stops we’d make over the next two weeks.

Our train trip to Paris, the longest leg of our trip, took all of Thursday. We boarded a train somewhere around 5:30am and arrived in Paris at 11pm. Our first train was late, so we missed our connection in Munich, Germany. After making a reservation and catching another train, we had a long layover in Mannheim, Germany. While there, we decided to explore the town a bit. Upon leaving the station, we found a tourist information office right outside and decided to stop in and ask for advice. We basically walked in and said, “We have an hour here and no mode of transport. What should we do?” The woman at the counter was totally up for the challenge and quickly designed us a walking route that led us by the biggest Baroque palace in Europe (it’s also a school now), a supermarket (because we needed food), and a huge water tower (which I didn’t expect to be pretty but was). We made it back to the train station to try and get on a train to Paris that was technically full, only to find out that there were empty seats but they would cost us an extra 60 euros or so. We decided to wait the two hours for the next train, so we had a bonus two hours in Mannheim. We went to a Starbucks we had passed on our walk because we needed to rest and refuel, and we needed wifi so we could figure out how to get to our Paris hotel from the train station.

Once we finally arrived in Paris, we set out in the dark towards our hotel. We saw the city lights reflected in a tributary of the Seine, before walking through a sketchy neighborhood and finding our place. We had booked the cheapest place we could find in Paris that didn’t have reviews blaming them for bed bugs, so we didn’t have high expectations. This place fell short even of those expectations though. The receptionist was exceptionally slow, and the walls were basically cardboard. We slept, but not well, and checked out the next morning. Because our hotel, unsurprisingly, had no place to store luggage, we had to find a place to leave our luggage for the day before we could explore Paris. We took a metro to the train station that we would be leaving from later that day, and (after a long search for the luggage storage) locked up our stuff there.

Free to explore, we set out towards the Seine River. Pretty much every time we saw the Eiffel Tower, we pointed it out to remind ourselves it wasn’t fake (and wasn’t the Observatory Tower on Petrin Hill modeled after the Eiffel Tower). By the time we made it across the river, it was about lunch time so we found a cute café and got some food. I had roasted chicken and French beans and David had French onion soup and pate with bread.

At this point, I have a confession to make. I had kind of believed the stereotypes about French people that said they were stuck-up. I thought the wait staff at restaurants would be rude, or at least a little unaccommodating. False. The waitress at this place was one of the most helpful waitresses we’ve had this whole trip. She helped explain the menu, and let me mix and match what I wanted off the menu. And that wasn’t abnormal for Paris, based on our experiences. Everyone we asked was more than happy to help us, and we asked for help a lot. It was nice to see a stereotype so dramatically torn down in my head.

After lunch, we walked to the Louvre and then to the Triumph Arch. 

The Louvre

Triumph Arch

Then, on our way to the Eiffel Tower, we stopped in this little park with a great view of the tower and ate some oranges. 

View of the Eiffel Tower from a park

David making funny faces by the Eiffel Tower

 After our rest, we strolled under and around the tower, debated whether to go up and quickly decided not to (the line was quite long and the price was quite high). We wandered around the park at the base instead, and there we ran into a bit of a conundrum. There were these men who were making a show of moving a ball between three cups and having people guess which cup the ball was under. People were betting large amounts of money (most often 100 euros, with 50 euros being a bare minimum) when they’d guess. I thought it would be fun to watch, just to see if I could guess which cup it would be under, but David felt it was wrong to support the activity by watching it. He felt that the men running the game were taking advantage of the players, and didn’t feel morally comfortable standing to watch. We figured this all out over about an hour of walking and talking, trying to understand why David had tensed up when I’d stopped to watch the game. Once we understood it to that extent, we had to talk about whether we needed to agree about moral questions like that. Was it okay for me to feel at ease watching those games, while he felt it was morally wrong? Or, as a couple, did we need to agree on the finer details of morality? It was odd to run up against something where we had strong moral opinions that differed from each other. Eventually, we realized that Notre Dame Cathedral was about to close, and we let this question rest while we rushed to the church. We figured we’d try to walk, but we severely underestimated the distance and didn’t even get close making it to Notre Dame before closing. Once we realized we wouldn’t make it, I collapsed on a bench at a bus stop and realized that I had pushed myself way too hard. It hit me that my ankle was killing me and my knee was tired and I was really not sure if I could walk anymore. As it sunk in, I started to cry. I was so frustrated that I couldn’t even walk around the city where we had one single day, and I was in a lot of pain, and I was just so frustrated. After sitting on that bench and crying for about twenty minutes, I had few false starts with trying to walk. I’d get up and take four steps and I’d be in too much pain to go any further, so I’d just lean up against a wall. Something about the way my knee is messed up is apparently making my ankle unhappy. It’s fairly swollen and painful even now, two days after I stressed it a lot in Paris. Eventually, I rested another to be able to mosey, so we walked very slowly with lots of breaks around the island were Notre Dame stands. On the way, David got a crepe and realized that crepes are not actually just really thin pancakes. It was perfect for him: dough covered in butter and sugar. It was funny to watch how surprised he was that he liked it. We walked around the outside of Notre Dame and the cute streets surrounding it before heading back to the train station, getting our luggage, and boarding an overnight train to Barcelona. We had a reservation for beds on that train, so we actually got to sleep. Yay.

Saturday morning, we woke up to see Port Bou, Spain out the window. It was unbelievably gorgeous, with rocky seaside villages jutting out of the cliffs. As we switched trains in Port Bou, I realized, to my dismay, that I still could not walk. Pain shot through my ankle in every step, and I simply had no hope of carrying my luggage (thank goodness for David). On the train to Barcelona, I massaged my leg and held out hope that I’d be able to walk when we got there, but as soon as we stepped off the train, I knew we’d have to find another solution. We had to give in and pay for a taxi to our hostel. After checking in and getting a little settled, we decided that we’d have to buy tickets for a hop-on-hop-off bus tour of the city. The price was steep, but our other option was to explore the three blocks around our apartment for two days. We ended up using the buses for everything they were worth. It was helpful because it forced me to not walk as much as I wanted to, and it gave us information about the sites we were seeing. We also got discounts on two restaurants that we ate at, so that made us feel better about spending the money on the passes. After walking to the nearest bus stop and buying tickets, we rode to coast and disembarked. We wandered through a market on La Rambla (the shopping street that descends towards the port) and stopped for lunch in a touristy restaurant where we had paella. After lunch, we each bought a shirt at the market and then we to sit on the dock. We walked across a long bridge to reach our bus stop, and then we rode to a cathedral that turned out to be closed, but we watched some cool street performers do some crazy dancing out front before hopping back on the bus and riding to the city center, where David found an Apple store so he could replace his lost phone charger. We explored the area around the city center for awhile before stopping for dinner in a salad buffet that we got a discount on. After dinner, we caught the last bus of the day back to our stop. On our leisurely walk back to our hostel, we stopped to watch the Font Magica (magical fountain), which was only a few blocks away. The fountain is lit with colored lights and the water arrangements are choreographed to music. It was stunning. On our slow walk back to our hotel, we passed a bar that was showing the soccer match between two Madrid teams (we later learned that it was an important match and got to hear people screaming through our window whenever anything happened). Back at our hostel, we researched for the rest of the trip.

Magical Fountain

The next morning, we caught one of the first tour buses out to Montejuic, a big park used for the 1929 World Exhibition and the 1992 Olympics. It’s now a large public park, where we took a cable car up to the castle on top of the hill. We walked around the grounds and forested areas that surround the castle. During our walk, we spotted a man walking his dog. I pointed out the dog to David and started telling him about how that’s the kind of dog I want most, a Bernese Mountain dog. David and I have laughed about how we’ve begun to think that other people around us cannot understand us, because we cannot understand them, which is almost always a false assumption. So I suppose I should not have been surprised when the dog’s owner turned around and said, “That’s right! Most people think she’s a St. Bernard.” I was taken aback and stuttered for a moment before he said again, “You’re right. She’s a Bernese Mountain dog.” We chatted for a moment before he moved on (he was walking much faster than us).

Cable car in Montejuic

Castle in Montejuic

After we’d walked around the castle grounds for a while, we took the cable car down halfway and explored the Jardins Costa I Llobera, gardens with cacti and palm trees. The cactus blossoms reminded us of home. We were starting to get hungry at this point, so we took the cable car back down to our bus stop and rode the bus to the fishing district. We walked through a market there, and I got some tea leaves for Grace. Then we walked to the beach and found our restaurant for lunch: Tapa Tapa. We had yummy tapas: patatas braves (fried potatoes covered spicy sauce), fried and salted peppers, spicy pork skewers, Spanish omelet/tortilla, and cheese croquettes. They reminded me of the tapas we had in NYC over Christmas with the Nelsons, except much less expensive and we were eating by the beach in Barcelona. (Even better, we had a discount because of our passes.) After lunch, we walked along the beach, which was unbelievably beautiful. The sand felt so good between our toes and the water felt like Barton Springs.

Barcelona Beach

It was hard to tear ourselves away, but we wanted to see more of Barcelona, so we took a bus towards the middle of town. We stopped at Sagrada Familia, an enormous cathedral. Now, take the image you have in your head of an enormous cathedral and double that. I mean, this place was huge, taller than the skyscrapers around it. It has been under construction for the past 100 years and, amazingly enough, it isn’t even close to finished. It was the life’s work of Gaudi, who is apparently a famous architect whose buildings are everywhere in Barcelona. Outside the cathedral, I bought a key chain and realized that I had lost my water bottle (whoops!). 

La Sagrada Familia

Afterwards, we took the bus to an area of town that was formerly a village standing outside of Barcelona. It was supposed to have a cute village atmosphere, with some “important cake shops” according to our bus tour, but it was Sunday and pretty much everything we closed, so we walked to a nearby monastery, hoping to find a supermarket on the way. We asked someone where we’d find a supermarket and they looked at us like we’d gone a little crazy, and told us that all the markets were closed because it was Sunday. We (well, I) panicked a little because I was planning on getting that night’s dinner and the next day’s breakfast and lunch at the supermarket. We’d eaten out the past three meals and my veggie-meter was running really low, so we ditched the monastery and went on an earnest search for a supermarket. Our search took us back to the bus, which drove by the Futbol Club Barcelona stadium, which was cool. They played the team’s anthem over the bus’s audio and a little boy in front of put his hands in the air and sang along. The whole thing reminded me of UT football, which made me a teensy bit homesick. When we finally found a market, I was so excited that I think I scared the man behind the counter a little. Once I had my veggies, everything was okay again (although it took David a bit to get over the secondary stress). We sat on a bench overlooking a park by the train station, and watched the dogs and kids playing there. Then we walked back to our hostel, made dinner, and booked a hotel in Cannes, the beach town in southern France where we’ll be heading after Avignon. Once it was dark, we walked to the Font Magica again and sat among the crowds watching it for about half an hour before heading back to our hostel and going to sleep.

~~~ This is a really long post. This is probably a good break point for those of you who don't have all day to read about my life. ~~~

Part II:

The next morning, my alarm went off at 4am for a 6:16am train to Cerbere, on our way to Avignon. When we got to Cerbere, however, we discovered that about a third of the trains were cancelled because of strikes, including every train to Avignon. The staff told us to “go out the door, turn left, through the channel, take a bus.” We quickly realized that was all the help we’d get so we followed the small crowds heading out the door. After walking down a lot of stairs through a tunnel covered in graffiti, we found the bus and realized it only cost 2 euros. However, we subsequently realized that it could not take us to Avignon, but only to Perpignan. The bus ride was beautiful at first, but then both of us got very motion sick from all the sharp turns. By the time we made it Perpignan, neither of us much cared if we made to Avignon as long as we didn’t have to take any more buses. We learned that all the trains from Perpignan to Avignon were also on strike, so we’d have to take a roundabout route, which would require a reservation. We stood in line about half and hour debating how much the reservation was worth to us and decided on $70 each. When we got to the front and discovered that it would cost us only 9 euros each, we were ecstatic. Of course, we lost about 5 hours of our day-and-a-half in Avignon, but as far as train strikes go, we got off fairly easily this time. We had to wait three hours in a mostly deserted Perpignan train station, but we ended up arriving in Avignon around 6pm. Our hostel was very cool. It was on the main road through the old part of Avignon, which leads to the Palais des Papes (the Papal Palace), where the nine Avignon popes resided and worked. We ate a grocery store dinner in the lobby of the hostel, where there was a little restaurant and we even braved being social and met knew people. Afterwards, we walked around town, found David some gelato, and sat by the Palais des Papes.

The next morning we walked down by the Rhone River and saw some cruises disembarking, then we headed back to town and bought some croissants before heading to the Palais des Papes. We got audioguides and spent almost 3 hours exploring the palace, which was amazing. It was fascinating to learn about all nine of the Avignon popes and the various palace renovations they oversaw. I had heard of the Avignon papacy, but I had no idea there was an Avignon pope for so long! The palace itself was enormous, and had served as a prison between the time of the papacy and 20^th century restoration projects. Apparently, they have an annual rose festival, for which they were decorating the palace. (The next morning at the train station, there was a man handing out free roses in conjunction with the festival.)

Palais des Papes getting all dressed up

View from the top of the palace

Window where the popes used to give indulgences

 After we’d exhausted our interest in the Avignon papacy, we left the palace and went to a flea market we’d heard about, where I bought a children’s French vocabulary book to add to my collection of foreign language kids’ books. We bought a tasty baguette, meat, cheese, and veggies and walked to the palace gardens to eat lunch. Then we explored the gardens before walking to Saint Benezet’s bridge, the name of which misleads one into thinking that it crosses the river. In reality, this bridge was built to cross the Rhone River in the 12^th century (says David; I don’t actually remember) when a shepherd named Benezet was called by God to build a bridge in Avignon. However, apparently God changed God’s mind because the Rhone wrecked the bridge each time it was rebuilt, eventually leading the city to stop funding it. Now it’s a bridge that extends out into the water and abruptly ends. Most cities, I think, would tear such a bridge down but, in Avignon, it’s a museum. The coolest part of the visit to me was the inclusion of a chapel and hospital in the bridge (Religious Studies/Health Sciences major happy place). The chapel is along the way across the bridge (there are actually two), while the hospital was housed at the base of bridge. Funded by the church, the hospital cared for weary travellers and the poor. Apparently it was standard practice at the time for a great industrial work to be accompanied by charitable giving. What I don’t know is why that practice stopped.

Saint Benezet Bridge

After all the walking, we were both pretty tired, so we found some gelato for Katie and a crepe (and a swimsuit) for David and we sat on the main road for about an hour just watching people. (David found 42 cents in a pile on the ground and failed at picking them up nonchalantly, but ended up 42 cents richer. It was funny to watch.) We walked around the south part of town, which we hadn’t explored, and then went to dinner at a little restaurant that I had found online. It was absolutely fantastic. The atmosphere was so homey, with people easily sharing tiny tables and a single waitress serving the entire room. The menus were handwritten in French, even though almost all the customers spoke English, so the waitress patiently did a lot of translating. David had a Caesar salad, roasted duck, mashed potatoes, and veggies, and I had a salad with sliced duck breast and marinated peppers, and tortellini and asparagus in marinara sauce. Everything was delicious. More importantly, though, it was very easy to relax there. When we left the restaurant, we realized we had been there for two and a half hours! After dinner, my ankle/knee was very done with me walking so we went straight back to the hostel and packed up.

The next morning we got warm croissants fresh out of the oven on our walk to the train station. We took a train to Marseilles, stored our luggage, and went exploring, First, we walked up a huge, huge hill to Notre Dame De La Garde, a chapel overlooking the port. By the time we got to the top, I was very displeased with our decision to walk up there, but once we realized we could take a bus down I was able to enjoy the view and the church itself. We ended up buying a 1 euro informational booklet and I became our tour guide. The church, originally built in 1214, is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who apparently looks over the sea. The church is decorated with mosaics depicting prophesies concerning Mary and important events from her life, as well as offerings from various groups, including sailors who were saved from a great storm, the sick, and military officials. It was later enclosed in a military fortress, but was still open to the public and was accessible by a drawbridge that is still lifted and lowered each day. 

View from the church on the hill in Marseilles

Listening to Hey Marseilles in Marseilles

Once we had completed our tour of the church, we took a bus town the hill and got some meat, cheese, veggies, and two baguettes for lunch. We tried to eat outside the bread shop, but the lady came out and kicked us out, for which she is now immortalized in our heads as “the evil baguette lady.” After being exiled, we headed for the port and ate by the water instead.

After lunch, we explored the center of town some more and ended up at a large palace that was built as a monument to water, at the arrival of running water in Marseilles in the 19^th century. Behind it, there was a large park that used to be a zoo, but that was up a hill and my knee/ankle was completely done with hills for the day, so we laid in the grass by the large fountain until a lady came and kicked us out (we aren’t sure why because we don’t speak French). Apparently, it was the day of being asked to leave places. 

Monument to water in Marseilles

We wandered towards the train station, where we caught a train to Cannes, the beach town where we’ve spent the last two days. The beaches are beautiful and very relaxing. The water is cold, about like Barton Springs, and the waves are nice and small. We have pretty much spent our entire time here on the beach or buying bread, though I did actually spend a couple hours shopping (and actually buying) clothes. It was pretty out of character, but fun. 

Cannes public beach

A brass band played right by the beach!

New swimsuit and stealing David's hat

Beach selfie

We have pretty much been subsisting on baguettes and croissants while here but tonight we ate out on this cute street near the beach. I ate a whole fish, like one with the eyes in it and stuff! Tomorrow morning we head to a small town in Tuscany, where we’ll be staying for five nights and travelling to different cities each day (probably Florence, Pisa, Viareggio, Bologna, or Livorno). Then I head to Milan and catch a flight to Athens and meet my family. It’s going to be a crazy and very exciting few weeks!

Brussels: Truffles, Waffles, Truffles, Fries, and Truffles

This weekend David and I went to Brussels and Bruges, in Belgium, which was probably my favorite place that we’ve seen so far. We spent almost all of Thursday on a series of trains from Prague to Brussels. We arrived in the evening and then took a bus to our hotel, which was in a rather rundown district referred to as the Turkish district. We walked around that area and found dinner before falling asleep back at the hotel.

The next morning, we made a split second decision to wander around the town instead of hitting up a bunch of museums. We explored some interesting old buildings and got a feeling for the town. 

This is their Town Hall. So fancy.

One of the places we stopped was the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula. As we paced the edges of the cathedral, I began to feel strangely connected to the place. I pondered going to light a candle. I tried to explain to myself that I had no reason to feel connected to this particular cathedral. It was a pretty but not stunning, large but not huge, fairly average cathedral. But the feeling of connection persisted, and finally I told myself that I didn’t have to explain in. I should just go light a candle. 

Cathedral

Dragon-slaying angel statue

As I was digging through my purse for a euro to donate, I glanced up at the statue in front of me, the statue that stood at the spot where I could no longer ignore my intuition. It was an angel slaying a dragon. The statement passed through my mind almost too quickly for me to recognize its importance. But my brain finally caught up and thought: It’s an angel. Slaying a dragon. For months (or possibly years now) I have been envisioning and describing the monster in my head, which makes me feel bad about myself, as a dragon. And last semester, as I was exploring new spiritual territory that I have yet to become completely comfortable with, I was shocked when I felt unmistakably as if an angel had come to my rescue. These facts suddenly were standing in front of me, juxtaposed together in stone. I stood in front of the statue for a few minutes trying to discern what message I was supposed to glean from this encounter. Talking it out with David helped, but I’m still working on processing. Essentially, it reinforced that I need to let go and to ask for help, and reminded me that I can ask an angel for help (but, as I said, I’m still working on getting comfortable with that).

After our cathedral visit, we ate a quick lunch at this place with healthy prepared foods before splitting off for a little independent processing time. I got truffles and then met David at a park, and then we visited the Belvue museum that lies adjacent to the park. The museum covered the history of the Belgian state since its creation around 1830, and we had less than half the recommended time to see the exhibits before they closed. We basically strolled through the museum reading the big signs out loud. Afterwards, we wandered around the town some more before eating at this super touristy place among a bunch of other touristy places. They were all on this one street in the middle of the city and all the restaurants make basically the same food. Normally, I would assume that such a street would be an awful place to eat but everyone’s food actually looked really good, so we decided to give it a try. Other than the stressful nature of having waiters beg you come to inside, it was a cool atmosphere and my paella was tasty. After dinner, we explored some more (and got more truffles), before bussing back to our hotel.

Building that houses the Belvue museum, the park is behind me

David looks SO happy with his Belgian waffle

 Saturday morning we walked to the headquarters of the European Parliament, one of the three governing bodies of the European Union. On the way there, we stopped at a stunning botanical garden, where we talked about which trees we identified with and why, in between debating the plausibility of combining the universes of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Basically, we are super cool. 

This is the tree I liked best.

Once we got to the European Parliament complex, we realized that there was a festival going on to encourage citizens to vote in the upcoming parliamentary elections. Apparently the chamber, where the parliament members meet and vote, was open to visitors for the day, but the line was ridiculously long so we just visited the “Parliamentarium” museum like we had planned. After the first two rooms (in which we spent a couple hours), our brains felt like jelly so we just strolled through the last four rooms and pointed out the pretty colors. We went on a quest for Belgian fries and truffles (again) and then went wandering around the town, where there was an enormous Pride festival happening. For dinner, we ended up collapsing at a cute Belgian restaurant that was highly recommended online. Their food and atmosphere were just great. After dinner, David did some major emotional work, so we walked and talked and, you guessed it, got more truffles.

My Flemish potato dish covered in ratatouille and hugged by sausages. Yumyumyum.

Sunday morning we woke up early and checked out of our hotel, stored our luggage at the train station and went to Bruges. Bruges is a smallish town about an hour’s train ride west of Brussels. As soon as we stepped out of the train station, we felt like we were in fake town. There was an idyllic river and beautiful green trees and a huge Ferris wheel in the background. We followed the crowd to the city center, which was also impossibly adorable. We walked the streets in awe for a few hours before getting lunch at a cute little café and then getting some Belgian fries and truffles. 

Bruges

Candy-making in Bruges

IT'S TOO CUTE

We searched for souvenirs and took pictures, and then went to Katie’s Perfect Museum: it’s a church that has served as a hospital for hundreds of years. Pretty much as soon as we stepped inside, David kind of exploded and we were both really frustrated, standing at the entrance to this museum completely paralyzed emotionally. We dealt with it as much as we could at the time, and slowly moved on. The museum did end up being really cool (for me, David almost ran through once he saw a painting entitled “An Anatomy Lesson,” which pictured three nuns standing over a man whose intestines were not inside his body). There were displays of old medicinal books and medical instruments, used by nuns and medical professionals hired by the church. Early in the hospital’s history, care mostly focused on “healing the soul” because medical practices were not widely understood or performed. As time went on, however, the focus shifted to physical care and the building’s primary purpose morphed from church to hospital. The apothecary where nuns dispensed remedies is still intact and open to visitors, preserved quite well. It was absolutely fascinating to explore. 

Apothecary

Before going to catch our train back to Brussels, I got a few more truffles (try not to look shocked). 

TRUFFFFFLLLLLLE

 In Brussels, I got my second Starbucks of the day, which turned out to be a very poor choice. Our first train was incredibly crowded and hot. For two hours, we sat on the floor of the bouncy train fanning ourselves. The mixture of coffee and chocolate and not much else in my stomach made me quite miserable by the time we disembarked. I basically collapsed in a chair while David went looking for food. Eventually, I felt okay enough to go looking for rice to calm my stomach down. While venturing out, I went to the bathroom and somehow managed to get stuck in the bathroom stall. The handle broke off as I was trying to leave and there was no opening that door from the inside. I tried everything before knocking, then banging, then yelling, “Help!” The bathroom attendant came and opened the door, shoved me out and tossed my container of rice in my general direction, before starting to scold me in German. I guess he thought I purposely broke off the handle or something (why would I do that? I have no idea). He wouldn’t listen to my attempts to explain and I was very shaken up and nauseous, so I just dropped the handle on the ground and got out of there as fast as possible. David did a good job of not laughing as I shakily explained what had happened. But seriously, since when to bathroom handles just break off and leave you stuck in the stall???

Eventually I calmed down and ate my rice, which allowed my stomach to settle. By that point, we were both quite tired and we descended into intense silliness that resulted in a lot of uncontrollable laughing and drew a lot of stares from our fellow passengers. Finally, we boarded our overnight train to Prague. We had splurged and reserved couchettes, so we actually got to sleep. It was very nice. Upon our arrival to Prague this morning, I realized that would be last time I came ‘home’ to Prague, which made me all sad and sentimental. Even so, I am pretty ready to see my family and come home. My life feels pretty full of contradictions right now, so this concept seems pretty straightforward. I’m not looking forward to leaving Prague in two days, but I am excited to travel with David and then with my family and to see Brittany over the next month. There are hard parts of life that sometimes feel to heavy to handle, but it’s still a good life.