An Endless Midsummer's Night

Look at me, blogging on the road. Now, had I been able to do this while I was on my grand European Tour I might not be posting about it fifteen months later. But then again, the "road" I'm on only involves a measly three cities and five days, rather than six weeks and eight countries; more importantly I have my laptop on hand, some spare time, and fifteen months ago I was too busy making the most extraordinary memories of a lifetime to be worrying about blogging. Better yet, as I've said before, getting to relive those fantastical moments is the best part of writing. So here, for your enjoyment and my reminiscent mind, is country number six: Sweden. 

We arrived at a dinky airport on the periphery of Stockholm on the 21st of June, the Summer Solstice, and date of the Swedish Midsummer celebration.

Anyone who knows my best friends and I well will not find it surprising that at my adamant demand we flew nearly a thousand miles to partake in a foreign holiday, mostly because you get to make flower crowns. Anyone who doesn't know us may call us a little crazy, which we are, so that's fair. 

C'est la vie

What I would give to be in Paris walking along the Seine at this moment...probably the same thing I would give to actually have finished editing all my photos and be talking about this summer and not the last. Then again, why would I want to give up reliving the memories of the most dazzling adventure I've had to date. 

Recalling my memories from Paris is like slipping into a black and white movie; everything is far away and as if from another time. It's an image of a life that I could not have possibly lived. 

The Adventures of the Lost Macaron

After a morning of Renaissance culture spent at Notre Dame, Brooke, Lindsey, and I went off in search of my other personal favorite cultural time period. 

The first 5 hours in Paris

I think I should preface this little bout of narrative by saying that Brooke, Lindsey, and I absolutely adored Paris. While I think we all were equally excited to go there, I particularly was a little wary of it, simply because I had heard various things about smelly streets and snobby Parisians. During our brief romance with City of Light, however, we had a nearly entirely enchanting experience.  

I say "nearly" not because we had any kind of Barcelona-esc trauma, but rather because our first evening excursion in Paris, after a quick flight and a long taxi ride, was so incredibly comical. 

While there is no photographic evidence of the first part of this story time, I can supply one iconic image to pretty much summarize what occurred within our first hour of wandering the airy Summer streets of Paris: 

Good ol' USA

There is no question that I am a wee-bit obsessed with Europe (hence my degree emphasis in European Studies). I'm afraid that I must admit this obsession sometimes clouds my appreciation of my own country. I live in San Diego, California and it is therefore kind of my job to just take for granted the fantastic place I live (I apologize to the rest of the country, as I sit writing this in a breezy café, while the temperature drifting through the open windows is a perfect 85º).  

California isn't the only great state in our oversized country either; as I've mentioned before I'm also a huge fan of Oregon. Having been to this state maybe a dozen times previous, when we went this past summer I feared we may have run out of things to be awed by. 

This was not the case: we found big foot and solved the scientific mystery of the ages.

The answer to life, the universe, and everything

About a week ago, Nicole and I got into a very enthusiastic and emphatic conversation about, well, everything. While I know the answer to life, the universe, and everything is 42, sometimes having the solution doesn't prevent me from just having these moments where I abstractly think about existence on its most fundamental level, which, to be honest, only makes life that much more mind boggling. Though I know I'm not the only one on earth having these dramatic thoughts of "BUT WHAT IS LIFE?!", it's not a subject that comes up on a daily basis. So having this little chat with Nicole was somewhat calming, in that it reminded me that I am not the only one sitting around being completely confounded by the world. 

We talked about a lot of different things, but eventually our conversation turned back to where it originated, which is, essentially, why the hell are people fighting all the time? This may seem like a naive question, but really, I just don't get it. The whole cliché "world peace" thing was basically our answer and desire. In an ideal world, people would flourish and create without the conflict of religion, economy, race, power, opinion, etc, etc, etc. We could just be, and as an individual, isn't that all we really want? To be alive. However, that is most definitely not how the world works, for it is far more complicated. 

In this ideal world, the goals of the organization established to figure out the whole "world peace" thing, also known as, the United Nations, would reign true:

• To keep peace throughout the world;
• To develop friendly relations among nations;
• To help nations work together to improve the lives of poor people, to conquer hunger, disease and illiteracy, and to encourage respect for each other’s rights and freedoms;
• To be a centre for harmonizing the actions of nations to achieve these goals.

Couchsurfing: Switzerland Edition

Brooke, Lindsey, and I have all been asked more than once how we possibly afforded our Euro-adventure. We had to be pretty frugal. There was a lot of grocery store trips (nothing is cheaper than pasta), food splitting (or "rationing" as we called it), picking and choosing of what "splurge" sites we would pay to see, and just general attempts at being thrifty. However, nothing saved us more money than Couchsurfing.com. 

For those of you who haven't heard of this webpage, it's basically what it sounds like, except sometimes you get a couch, sometimes you get a bed, sometimes you get a futon, sometimes you get a floor, sometimes you'll take whatever you can get. Essentially you make a profile and then request to stay in strangers' homes.

Now the appropriate and usual reaction to this idea is "STRANGER DANGER!!" While this is a practical concern, we had a really great and safe experience with the whole thing. Profiles are linked to reviews from other surfers and that's largely how we chose who we stayed with. The people you request to stay with must also approve you, and you can talk with them prior to your visit. 

To be fair, there is a decent part of this that is trusting your gut. I am sure that not every Couchsurfer is a safe and hospitable new friend. There are creepers everywhere, but just as well, there are wonderful people everywhere. We tried to be as safe as possible, like I said, trusting other surfers' reviews and especially steering towards people with a large quantity of positive comments. 

While I had my first Couchsurfing experience on my trip to England, and Brooke & Lindsey had their's in Florence (while I was off galavanting in Southern Spain), we had our first joint experience in Geneva, Switzerland. 

October is Over?

I'm never going to be done blogging about my Europe trip, we can just all accept that. I do, however, want at least to document a few of my memories from this semester, which has been a blast, if busy as heck, hence the struggle to complete my blogs. Jewel suggested I throw in some of the here & now and just go back and forth, and you know, why not? Screw OCD and chronological order. 

So here's a goodbye to October, which is already ending, though how that has happened I don't know. It's still 85º in San Diego, since we don't actually have seasons, but when we headed to Julian for the day it finally felt a little bit less like summer. 

Hiking the gorge

Next time I go backpacking in Europe (or anywhere), I promise I'll invest in the innovative invention called a hiking shoe. You know those things great for walking long distances? However, for this time round, I had been living in Italy prior to venturing out onto the rest of the continent and who really has the money for Italian shoes? Not this girl. 

So, that in mind, welcome to the day I hiked down the gorge in Ronda, in my Reef flip flops, which I stand by as the most reliable shoe I own. I am, in fact, wearing the same pair right now. They're just that wonderful.  

Finding Spain

For those of you who follow me on Instagram you already know how blown away I was by Southern Spain. It had everything I imagined about Spain that Barcelona had failed to deliver on. 

Strolling down the narrow streets of warm colored buildings, with the hot sun gracing my skin as I emerged from the shadows, was like a daydream. 

Barcelona Bites Back

Sometimes unfortunate things can happen while you're traveling, and like in life, you just have to take them in stride and handle the situation. Our second day in Barcelona started well enough, but concluded with a bit of a struggle, in the form of two stolen cell phones. 

We all like to think that we're conscientious enough to not get our stuff stolen. That all those crime alerts about ripped away cell phones are just dumb people not paying enough attention. Really though, it can happen to the best of us, especially when traveling in a foreign country known for its master pickpockets. 

Barcelona sits on the southern coast of Spain, along the Balearic Sea. Brooke, Lindsey, and I thought we would take advantage of a beach day, being the California girls we are. However, though they may be beautiful, Barcelona's beaches are nothing like California. People line every inch of the sand, and there are panhandlers consistently harassing you. 

"Mojito! Mojito! Fresh mojito!" 

The Cliffs of Moher

For someone who was once borderline anti-people, I came to find that making new friends on my adventures was one of my favorite parts of traveling. One exceptionally fortunate encounter occurred in my sweet little town of Doolin. It was here, in my hostel, that I met four beyond-lovely girls, with whom I would spend the next two days. 

I was lucky enough to meet Vanessa, Chelsea, Katie, and Amelia before they had ventured up to the Cliffs of Moher. With our shared destination in mind, I joined them on a bus trip up the mountain to see what really should be considered one of the natural wonders of the world. 

Quintessential Ireland

I've often been asked why I chose the specific cities I chose to visit on my adventure. For some places, there is no reason at all, other than at the moment, it sounded fun. For other places, there's a bit more logic. For Doolin, Ireland it was one well advised recommendation that led me to what was immediately my favorite Irish village.

While on a trip in Germany (an un-blogged adventure, because, as is obvious by my infrequent posts, I'm a dang busy girl) a handy Bus2Alps tour leader told me that if I wanted to go to the Cliffs of Moher, I could not just take any old Paddy-Wagon tour, but rather that I HAD TO go visit the teeny little town of Doolin. He promised me that this nearly non-existant town, would be the quintessential Ireland I was hoping for. 

He did not lie. 

Doolin sits along the coast of County Clare, which in and of itself, is Ireland. Imagine being Hilary Swank in P.S. I love you, walking lost along a desolate Irish road, with sheep roaming around, then all-of-a-sudden, there's a beautiful Gerald Butler in your path. That's County Clare. Well, minus Gerald, but a girl can (day) dream. And with a population just around 500, surely Gerald's beautiful Irish family would live in Doolin, so you'd have to move there to a tiny cottage with cows and sheep and ....well I guess I'm getting a bit off point, but can you blame me?

I arrived (daydreaming) in Doolin, via the once-a-day bus, to find myself left on a street with a cafe, two pubs, and a hand full of hostels/b&b's. I easily enough found my new home, Rainbow Hostel, as the bus dropped me immediately in front of it, and there wasn't much else around to compete for my attention. 

   

Endless sun

After Bre and I's morning at the pool we went and harassed Poppy about how to acquire a quad for the day, a process which proved to be surprisingly easy and cheap. We didn't even have to sign our lives away (like in ol'America). 

Coming Soon

Over two months ago, when I set out on what I like to call my "Great European Adventure", I had no idea how fast the time would fly by. I should have anticipated that after what a whirlwind studying abroad for a whole semester had been, 51 days would feel like nothing. Still, as I sit here back at home in sunny California, I cannot believe it's all really over. 

Backpacking around Europe had always been a dream of my best friends and I, even with the foreboding peril of packing, so well illustrated by Lorelei and Rori. Nevertheless, we rallied and managed to fit 6 weeks of clothes in our Osprey Porter 46 carry-on size backpacks, and now can basically consider ourselves the most efficient packers on the planet. While the majority of my time traveling was spent with my two best friends from home, Brooke and Lindsey, I started my trip with my amica Bre from school in Italy, and then spent some of it on my own. 

A peculiar destination

Mom, Jewel, and I set out on a new adventure after our luxury trip to Santa Margherita Ligure for something a little different. In case you were wondering, yes, we spent a lot of time on trains that last weekend. On the bright side, train travel in Europe is the bomb-diggity. 

Geek Out Day

Welcome to what I like to call my "Geek Out Day" aka "The Best Day Ever" aka "The Perfect Day in London" aka "Too Many Pictures in One Day" aka "The Longest Blog Post Ever Because It Was AMAZING". All seriousness, though, March 24, 2014 was one of the most exemplary days I have ever had. 

It began with the sun shining in London (a good omen, or so I hear). I strolled through residential streets and into Battersea Park; I learned my first day, that the best way to start a day in London is in a park.

Winter Paradise

There are a million things I love about Italy. The lack of nature, is not one of them. Italy has been inhabited and structured for nearly its entire history, it's not surprising that every major city is overlaid completely by concrete and the ever infamous cobblestones. Usually I can hang with this city-living style, but I was more ready than I even knew to go to the great outdoors.

I went to the right place: Interlaken, Switzerland is one of the outdoor recreation capitols of the world. Nestled down in a valley this wild utopia is surrounded on four sides by the Swiss Alps. The Alps rise up above you at incomprehensible heights, making you feel like every bit the ant you are in their presence. These grand mountains are covered by various trees and mounds of snow, creating a breathtaking landscape. 

La dolce vita

Wake up, it's Saturday morning, and there are not buckets of rain coming down. Easy to make a plan for the day: just meet up with your friends at the over 600 year old Duomo. 

You and your amiche walk down the bustling streets of Florence, alive with people no longer forced to hide from the rain. You're not sure how to get where you're going, but you have a general idea, so you'll find a sign eventually. 

The other side of the hill

When asking about the best spots in Los Angeles, one often is pointed toward The Getty Center. Now I have to say, I've yet to take a stroll about this said-to-be epic museum, though it is definitely on my to-see list (which is never ending). However, a few weekends ago, myself and a group of my favorite gals popped over to the other side of the Los Angeles hills to The Getty Villa. 

True to its name, The Getty Villa is the manifestation of J. Paul Getty's vision of creating a Roman Villa to house his dream museum. Constructed during the 1970s, the Villa is a replica of the Villa of Papryri at Herculaneum, Pompeii's less popular sister-city, also destroyed by Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Unfortunately, Mr.Getty died before getting to see the completion of the site, thought it was luckily still completed, in appropriate Roman architecture and style, with the inheritance left by the visionary.