Sunday, May 8, 2011

My 26-hour voyage to Berlin

Travelling from Barcelona to Berlin was probably the most lengthy and intense travel experience I've had so far. I think it will best be relayed to you by the following timeline:

Saturday, April 30th
8:15PM - I say a sad farewell to my dear friend Dan Weller and head to a metro stop.
8:19 - I arrive at the metro stop and realize that I'm at a stop on the wrong line to get to the train station. I figure out how to get there via a series of transfers and then realize I'm at the wrong platform (train is going the wrong way). I leave to find the other entrance.
8:23 - realize that I've been going the wrong way down the street. I make the executive decision to fuck the metro and start booking it to the train station on foot. Train departs in 42 minutes and I'm not entirely sure where the station is or where to go once I find it.
8:40 - I arrive at the station after running out in front of a few buses and taxis. NBD.
8:44 - my backpack goes through security, but there are no metal detectors.... and I silently thank fate that I've been carrying my pocket knife in my pocket and not my pack
8:46 - I am directed back and forth by several train personnel regarding the location of my car. Apparently my assigned car, 80, simply didn't exist
8:55 - they realize that the cars are mislabeled, and I find my cabin
9:05 - train departs for Paris

Sunday, May 1st
9:03AM - train arrives at Paris Austerlitz
9:10 - I go to an SNCF ticket counter because the train I had planned on taking to Berlin was sold out and I had no idea how I was going to get out of Paris
9:20 - ticket window person is awesome and books me a ticket from Paris to Brussels to Liege to Koln. From there I will take the train to Berlin using my rail pass. This journey ends up being roughly half has expensive as it would have been if I had taken the train I'd originally planned on.
9:25 - I realize that my train is leaving out of Gare du Nord in 32 minutes and that I have no idea how long it will take me to get there from Austerlitz. Good thing I already spent almost a week in Paris and knew how the metro works.
9:50 - arrive at Gare du Nord with plenty of time
10:02 - train departs for Brussels right on time
10:55 - little boy sitting in front of me starts puking. Great.
11:20 - arrive in Brussels, buy some food, get on the next train
1:10 - arrive in Liege, which is a beautiful train station. It was a beautiful day, so I sat outside and ate a pear
2:20 - depart for Koln approx. 10 minutes late
3:29 - arrive in Koln. The train I was supposed to take to Berlin is right next to our train, but not on the same platform.... So I would have to walk all the way up the platform, over, and back down he other platform
3:32 - as I'm waiting to exit my train, I watch the train to Berlin leave.
3:45 - I find a Starbucks in the station and use the free wifi to let Jairo know that I will be later than anticipated
4:32 - another train to Berlin leaves, and this time I'm on it.
9:45 - arrive in Berlin Hauptbanhof
10:22PM - arrive at Jairo's house after 26 hours and 7 minutes of travelling.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A taste of Ithaca in Barcelona

With Dan Weller's arrival in Barcelona came an interesting realisation for me: the true strangeness of travelling alone for so long and seeing, literally, not a single face I recognised for weeks. Think about it: every day of our lives, we see the same people. Our families, our friends, our roommates and professors, our coworkers, neighbors, people on the street.... These are the constants in our everyday lives, and I went without that for longer than I probably ever have and ever will again. The constants in the last few weeks for me have been the young people at the hostel reception desks and the occasional roommates who stay longer than one night with me. I have had so many "single-serving friends" during this time that it actually feels normal now to say goodbye to someone, know that I will never see or hear from him/her again, and be okay with that.

Anyway! So Dan and I met up at our hostel on Friday morning and almost immediately left for the market I had been to the day before. We didn't buy anything that time, but we took a ton of pictures. For lunch, we went to a vegetarian buffet right next to the market. For €4.20, we got a bed of shredded lettuce, 3 pieces of falafel, and all-you-can-eat toppings, including tabbouleh salad, sun-dried tomatoes, cucumbers with dill, breaded and fried cauliflower, curried chickpeas, hot peppers, pickles, and more that I just can't remember. And it was all delicious.

Actually, now that I think about it, we did buy something at the market - a fruit salad that had melon, watermelon, kiwi, strawberry, orange, grape, pineapple, and dragonfruit. Yum.

After lunch, we went to what is, still to this date, the most incredible sight I've seen in 4 weeks: the Sagrada Familia. A cathedral designed by the Spanish architect Antonin Gaudi, the Sagrada Familia is actually still unfinished - but damn, is it beautiful inside. I can't describe it in words, so you'll have to wait until I can post my photos :-P

After we spent an adequate amount of time gawking over the Sagrada Familia, we then walked (hiked) halfway across the city to the Parc Guell, a park also designed by Gaudi. On the way there, we had some snacks (that we may have stolen off of some trees), and asked about 100 passers-by for directions. But we made it.... Very tired, yes, but certainly not hungry.

We briefly returned to our hostel and then went back out to find dinner and to see the "Magic Fountain," a beautiful yet touristy fountain full of lights that, for some reason, closed at 9pm. So, we were able to get a few photos in before the fountains literally shut down and everyone went away.

It was difficult to find a restaurant for dinner that would cater to a vegetarian and someone who is allergic to milk, gluten, soy, and basically everything delicious in life, but we were eventually able to find a sketchy place that had a slightly overpriced veggie paella. The first place we tried had allegedly run out of patatas bravas (ummm, who runs out of potatoes and hot sauce?), and a lot of the cheaper places were closing. So, veggie paella it was.

That night, we had THE WORST ROOMMATES EVAR. First they checked in around 1am, came into the room, turned on the main overhead light, and had a full conversation. Oh, this was only two of the roommates - the other nine (9) of us had been asleep. Then they left, and everyone tried to go back to sleep. Which would have been largely successful if the two hadn't come back at 4:37am (I know, because I woke up and looked at my watch) and repeated the same behavior as earlier. Eventually they went to sleep, and the next morning after Dan and I had gotten up way before everyone else to eat breakfast, the roommates' friend came in to wake them up (while everyone else in the room was still asleep), and they had another full conversation. It was absolutely ridiculous - everyone was pretty happy to be checking out that morning.

So! We started our day with buying an enormous bar of chocolate with hazelnuts in it that we split for a second breakfast. Then we went to the chocolate museum (time #2 for me). It was a very chocolate-filled morning. Next we went back to the market for lunch and ended up eating at the same place as yesterday - why pass up a good deal? This time we supplemented it with fruit juices, which were freaking awesome.

Next we went to the erotic art museum (again, a second for me, but in a different city this time). It was pretty good, but I liked the one in Paris better. After that we spent the rest of the day walking around, looking at craft vendors, walking along the pier, trying to find the gay nude beach we had read about online, looking for more fruit to steal, and just enjoying the city. I got sunburned, again. But overall, it was a great day. Until I almost missed my train, but that's another story.

So I said goodbye to Dan and headed off on an overnight train to Paris. It was so nice to finally be able to spend some time with someone I actually know and can talk about things back home with. For the most part, I've actually really enjoyed travelling alone.... but it was nice to not have to ask a stranger to take my picture, to be able to joke about things without being afraid of offending the other person, and to just finally be myself.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Barcelona, part II

So the reason I chose to go to Barcelona in the first place was because I was meeting my dear friend Dan, who is studying in Sevilla, there for the weekend. The first two full days I spent in Barcelona, however, I was by myself. It was enough time to become oriented with the city, decide out what I wanted to do by myself, and figure out what to save for when Dan joined me.

Day 1 wasn't too eventful - I bought my train ticket to Paris (Berlin is my next stop, and I planned to take an overnight train to Paris and then a train from Paris to Cologne and then to Berlin from there). Afterwards I went to the tourist info center to get a very much-needed map of the city. I also picked up some brochures that I don't think I even looked at after I left the info office.

I checked the free map I had picked up to see where the contemporary art museum was and headed in that general direction. I figured that since I had failed at seeing contemporary art museums in Paris and in Nice, and had somehow succeeded at seeing art museums I didn't really care about, I should probably try and see the one in Barcelona.

After wandering around the city for a while, taking occasional breaks to sit on park benches and think about things, I did find the museum. It was very much a multi-media - focused museum, with many films and separate rooms specifically for showing them. I watched an entire 31-minute film called "Hydra Decapita," which I only elected to sit through because of it's name. I followed most of it, then fell asleep for the last five minutes and have no idea what to make of it. Oh well.

That night was the football (soccer) semifinal game between Barcelona and Madrid - a huge rivalry. I obviously don't know anything about football (American or otherwise), but I had planned a night in to catch up on blog posting and Skype, so I sat in the common area to do so.... and was caught more or less in the middle (okay, I was actually sitting at a table pretty far away from the TVs) of FCB Central. Not to spoil the surprise, but when Barcelona won the room went CRAZY! Eventually everyone went out to the bars to celebrate, but even as I was going to bed at midnight the streets were still full of people yelling and cars honking their horns in celebration. Pretty exciting!

The next day I decided I was going to see the Picasso museum. Again, I wasn't entirely sure where I was going, but a check-in with my map every so often kept me more or less on track.

Before I found the museum, I came across two big open markets ('mercats' in Spanish). The first was on La Rambla, and it is known as La Boqueteria. I don't remember the name of the other one, but they were both more or less the same and were both more or less awesome. Every kind of fruit, vegetable, olive, cheese, animal part, nut, or olive oil you could ever want was sold there, and all by local farms and businesses. I didn't buy anything on that day, but I certainly did the next two days!

As I was wandering the streets of Barcelona in an attempt to locate the Picasso museum, I turned a corner and found myself facing.... wait for it.... a chocolate museum. A real-life, honest-to-whomever chocolate museum. So, obviously I went in just to see how much tickets were and if it would be worth it to go in. For €3.65, I determined that this was something I needed to do.

1. My ticket was a bar of chocolate.
2. They had chocolate sculptures.
3. They had real-life chocolate sculptors working on new sculptures.
4. They also had a cafe at the end where you could buy coffee, tea, soda, etc.... and also some kind of hot chocolate drink that had basically the same consistency of fondue. Amazing.

After feeling pretty good about my discovery, I found the Picasso museum. I found it to also be a worthwhile visit - the museum holds about 1700 of Picasso's works, spanning from his early years all the way to his death, and included his paintings, ceramics, lithography, and a complete timeline of his life.

Unfortunately, most of the writing in the museum was either in Spanish or in Catalan (a Latin-derived language with heavy Spanish and French influences); the pieces that included descriptions in English seemed to be the really obvious ones, like "Two Women Sitting." Thanks. Couldn't have figured that out myself.

I changed hostels that night, since I couldn't get four consecutive nights in the hostel Dan and I had decided to book. One of my roommates was a nice Welsh guy named Garrett who was in Barcelona to escape the Royal Wedding craziness that was to occur the next morning. We both left to go find dinner at the same time, so we teamed up and found the probably one place within a mile of the hostel that was a) still open, b) cheap, and c) had enough food to feed two vegetarians. We split a plate of olives (day #2 of having olives for dinner) and both ordered "huevos e patatas fritas".... fried eggs and French fries. How incredibly Spanish. Did I also mention this was a sushi restaurant?

The food actually ended up being very good, so we left feeling satisfied enough to stop at a bar on the way back for another drink rather than going off to find a second dinner. I had a really delicious glass of red wine whose name I would have never remembered if I hadn't written it down. Hopefully Northside will have it!

Tomorrow: Dan arrives!

Barcelona!

Barcelona, part 1

My trip out of Montpellier was actually somewhat notable. I had a connection in Figueres (a town in Spain that I'm pretty only exists to serve as a transfer point between French and Spanish regional trains), and a 10-minute delay coming out of Montpellier cut my 15-minute connection time down to 5 minutes. Luckily, due to the facts that the Figureres train station only has about 2 platforms and the train to Barcelona was literally about 20 feet away, I didn't have to spend the night in some tiny town in Spain.... Which is what I had feared would happen.

As I was getting ready to switch trains, I overheard two people, a guy and girl of about my age, talking about Barcelona. I found out that we were all making the same tight connection, and that the guy and I had been assigned to seats right next to each other on the train!

Over the next few hours, I found out that not only had we all been in Nice for the same period of time (stuck an extra day because of Easter Monday), but the guy and I had stayed in the same hostel and had just never run into each other. Upon arriving in Barcelona, we then realised that we were all going to the same metro stop and that our hostels were roughly about 2 blocks from each other. What are the chances?!

After checking into our respective hostels (at approximately 11:45pm), we decided it would only be appropriate to hit the town and experience Barcelona nightlife. We walked down La Rambla, the main pedestrian strip that serves as Barcelona's tourist center by day and bar scene by night. Not having yet eaten dinner, we found a restaurant still serving tapas and ordered a pitcher of sangria and some food (I ordered a plate of olives, which I promptly devoured).

Upon finally going our separate ways, we realised that we had never gotten each other's names. I guess it might have seemed a little out-of-the-ordinary at the time, but now that I'm looking back on that night, it makes me really think about the value of a name or a formal introduction. These two other travellers and I shared an almost instant bond, even though we never officially 'met' each other. Our conversation began with my asking if they were also going to Barcelona, continued with asking where each was from, and was kept alive by sharing our travel experiences.

And what's in a name, anyway? Our names are our most basic form of identity, yet I feel like I learned just as much about each of these individuals without knowing their names than I would have if I had introduced myself when we first met. Are names really a necessary part of our relationships with others? Perhaps if one had a name that had some sort of significance to me (say, the same name as a close relative, close friend, or a significant other), then I maybe would have thought of that person and linked their identities whenever I had to reference them by name. Would I think of these new friends differently? Would I remember them differently now? These are things I think about when I'm sitting on the train for hours on end.

By the way, their names were Joel and Cynthia, and they were both awesome.



Random sidebar - I'm currently on one of the five (5) trains I'll need to take to Berlin, and the little boy sitting in front of me is throwing up. I'm not sure if I'm more sorry for him or just grossed out, but either way.... Yay.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Nice is.... Nice

Haha pun! Anyway, I'm sitting in the Montpellier train station for the last 45 minutes of my 4-hour connection. Yes, a trip from Nice to Barcelona, which should normally take around 8-9 hours, will take 13 today because the earlier Montpellier-Figueras train was sold out when I bought my ticket. Yay planning ahead far enough in advance so that I didn't find this out when I got here!

So, after 2 full days in the Cote d'Azur, I think I'm sufficiently sunburned enough to last me the rest of this trip and into most of the summer. Who knew that going to the beach at 4pm on a day in April when the high temperature is 65 would result in such discomfort?

Nice was very relaxing and not only free of herds of tourists, but also free of herds of tourist traps. This may have been because I was there on Easter Sunday and Monday, but still. Good choices.

On Monday I took advantage of the rail pass I had paid way too much money for and explored Monte Carlo (Monaco) and Cannes. Both were nice to walk around for the afternoon, but I'm glad it was only for that long. One, there wasn't a whole lot to do besides walk around, look in shops, and sit on the beach. Two, both cities are full of people who are ABSURDLY WEALTHY, making everything cost way more than it should (for example, a crepe with Nutella costs €7 in Monte Carlo). Luckily I packed a lunch!

Two of my roommates, Chinese girls studying in London, described Monaco as "very beautiful, lots of clear water, people are very rich, and many free toilets!" And they were right.

The hostel where I stayed was beautiful. My guidebook said it was supposed to have been the house that Napoleon gave to his mistress. This morning I actually paid money for the breakfast they had, since I was leaving fairly early and didn't want to have to search all over for a bakery like I did yesterday. I actually chose coffee to have with my breakfast over tea, hot chocolate, and orange juice! It wasn't as amazing as the cappuccinos I had been drinking in Italy every morning, but I actually enjoyed it.

Montpellier is a surprisingly beautiful city (not that I didn't think it was going to be nice, but I guess I had kind of assumed that it was just a city where a lot of trains happen to pass through, and not much else.... Kind of like Ventimiglia). Here's some irony: there was a group from Greenpeace doing petition gathering or something on this one really touristy street, and I actually kind of wanted to talk to them (as one can imagine, I haven't really had much opportunity lately for discussion on issues I really care about, besides travel). Out of the four (4) people who stopped me, not a single one spoke English! I tried to speak French with the first guy who stopped me, but he didn't seem interested once I said I was just traveling. Out of all the other groups on Florence, Rome, Venice, and others I saw who were doing similar things, out of all the creepy French and Italian men, out of all the homeless people I ran into, the ones who didn't try to talk to me after I said I only spoke a little French were the ones I actually really wanted to talk to!

Other than that, my afternoon hasn't been exciting. I spent too much money on too little gelato, but it was incredibly refreshing. I bought a ring from a French hippie. Now I'm sitting on the floor of the train station in front of the one outlet I found in the entire building. Yay!

The platform from which my train is departing was just announced - next post will be from Barcelona!

On the Train

Genova

Genova is a rather peculiar town.... Well, the part the train to Ventimiglia passes through, at least. To the south is a landscape that looks very much like most of northern Italy - multi-level brown and peach stucco buildings nestled among steep hills, connected by narrow roadways and clotheslines with garments dangling.

To the north, however, one can mistake the scenery for a New England port city. Huge cruise ships mixed among barges and cranes along a waterfront that extends for miles. Tirreno Power, a coal-fired power plant situated directly on the water, has enormous candy cane-striped smokestacks that could probably be seen for miles on a clear day.

The afternoon is misty and dark, further playing into the gloom of the landscape. Rain begins to fall at the next station, covering discharged passengers with thick droplets.

The most bizarre part of this polar landscape is a thin lagoon between the train tracks and the port. Separated by a shallow stone wall and dotted with regularly-spaced palm trees. The water in the lagoon is still and does not reflect the gray of the stormy sky. All around me is industry, yet this small strip of paradise provides relief from the dim monotony of the scene.

A Day in Venice

Venice

I can sum up my trip to Venice with this one realization it helped me to have: if choosing which flavor of gelato to try for the second time in one day is the most difficult decision I will have to make in that day, then my life is pretty freaking awesome.

I stayed 2 nights in Venice in a cabin at a campground on the mainland about 15 minutes by bus to the island. Arriving at around 6:30pm, I only really had time to buy my train ticket to my next destination (Nice), grab a slice of pizza for dinner, and find my campground.

I had two roommates at Camping Rialto the first night: a girl from western Australia who had an awesome name that I just can't remember, and Mario, an engineer who works for CERN, and with whom I explored the city the next day.

I won't bore you, dear readers, with details of how many streets we walked, how many bridges we crossed, and how many times we got lost. I will tell you, however, that Venice is a truly beautiful city. Visit it before it goes underwater forever.

For one of the first times ever, I was able to find one of the restaurants that my guidebook (the usually-trustworthy Let's Go: Europe) recommended - a gelato place called Gelato Nico that faced the waterfront and had delicious mango and delicious bacio (chocolate with hazelnut pieces) flavors. I know firsthand. We went there twice in one afternoon. For €1.30 for a good-sized scoop, we almost couldn't pass it up.

Before you ask, I did ride in a gondola. Don't get too excited, though - the gondola rides that Venice is so famous for cost between €80-100 for 40 minutes. However, Venice has traghetti, gondola ferries, that cross the Grand Canal at several points throughout the city. They cost only €0.50 for about 2 minutes of intense canal-crossing fun (there are no traffic laws in the waters of Venice) and proved to be a much better option in the long run.

For my bartending and/or alcohol consuming friends, I have a new drink to share with you when I return. Be excited.

As per my last several posts, I'm on the train to my next destination currently - this time Nice, in the south of France, where I will spend Zombie Jesus Day (Easter) on a beach. Well, I hope so, anyway.... I haven't checked the weather in a few days, and the weather between Venice and Genova (where the train is currently stopped) hasn't been great. It's a nice day to be stuck in aisle seats on a train, but doesn't instill much confidence for the next few days.

My plan was to leave Nice on Monday and go somewhere for a few nights before Barcelona on Wednesday, but I forgot that Monday is a public holiday in Europe. So, as usual, I'm going to wing it and see how it goes!