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.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
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.
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!
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.
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.
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