Europe

Diving in Dubrovnik

It was bittersweet to leave Italia, but I couldn’t help but be excited that our next stop was going to be one of my favorites from my previous trip: Dubrovnik, Croatia. 

Before catching an overnight ferry from Italy, we happened to stumble upon a small restaurant in the port town we were leaving from. The meal was a perfect sendoff, filled with all sorts of different appetizers, topped off with a meaty pasta handmade by the “woman who lives over there.” Buono!

Upon arrival in Dubrovnik, after walking the city walls, I had one mission:

Find rocks. Jump off rocks.

Once again, Dubrovnik did not disappoint, as my favorite activity became a family affair. First Jen, then Dad, then me. The crystal clear water shone bright blue as we made our way into the cliffside cave I’d discovered on the last trip. Dubrovnik is about as picturesque as it gets, and small enough to meander around exploring little side streets and climbing the endless amount of stairs. We enjoyed dinners, winebars, and cable cars as our relentless pace finally slowed down a bit.

Dubrovnik marked the last stop for the family adventure together, as my parents and Aunt and Uncle headed back to the States while the youngn’s stayed behind for some more adventuring. An unforgettable trip together, an experience I’ll always cherish.

Where to next?

3 Months

It’s hard to imagine it’s been 3 months since I arrived in Europe. Sometimes it seems like it’s gone by so fast, and other times it feels as though I’ve been over here forever. It’s almost as if my mind has separated the different parts of my trip into completely different periods of time. I forget that it was only in July when I was running with bulls in Spain, that I even did that to begin with, and that it was actually on this trip.

Talking to fellow travelers, I always get the question:

What has been your favorite place?

For some reason, I’m never able to give a true answer as my focus always seems to go to a portion of the trip, or a certain country in general. The answer is always different, and I think I like it that way. Certain situations, environments, people, scenery, smells, and even accents bring me back to places I’ve been along the way, and the memories that come with. Another reason I believe it’s hard to pin down a favorite place is that everything has been so different. From beautiful coastlines, to massive glaciers, to deep fjords, to turquoise lakes, the natural beauty of my destinations has been unreal. Then I think about the character contained within every city. From the traditional attitude of Bavaria, to the enthusiasm of the Italians, to proper English folk, every culture offers something different.

While I can’t answer the most obvious question, I CAN tell you some things:

1) Norway is an unknown gem, and incredibly beautiful 2) Swiss and Belgian chocolate IS all it’s cracked up to be 3) Spanish people don’t sleep 4) German beer is delicious, but Belgium offers more variety 5) English people actually do drive on the correct side of the road 6) Scandinavia is expensive. Very expensive 7) Europe has the train system figured out (Maybe not Croatia) 8) You can live off pasta, pizza, and gelato. And Nutella 9) A baguette, cheese, and the Eiffel Tower make for a good afternoon 10) A trip is what you make of it. The more willing you are to embrace a culture, the better experience you will have.

So that’s my 2¢

After 3 months, 18 countries, 10 currencies, and an innumerable amount of perspective, my country hopping days are through. What a ride it’s been…

P.S. R.I.P. Eurail pass, you’ve been so good to me

Oktoberfest

After regretfully seeing very little of beautiful Austria, I was once again in Munich meeting up with my college classmate Jonas, who just happened to be moving into a new apartment and getting ready to start his new job in the city, and was nice enough to let me stay with him. The timing couldn’t have been better to enjoy a day as a true Bavarian. While I was lacking the traditional clothing (Liederhosen), the hat you see in the photo made up for it I think.

Oktoberfest is held on a huge fair ground where carnival rides and booths selling everything from giant cookies to giant sausages to giant pretzels to giant hats (like mine) are scattered all around between each brewery’s “tent.” The tents are actually huge buildings that house a completely different atmosphere than the theme park-like environment outside. Each tent is filled with elaborate decorations unique to each brewery. Hundreds of tables fill the open room with a traditional Bavarian band smack dab in the center. The band takes its fair share of water, er, beer breaks as the crowd serenades the local cheers-ing tune. Teens to Grandfathers dance on top of the tables as waitresses and waiters carry out impossible numbers (I saw someone carrying 10) of 1-litre jugs full of beer to thirsty patrons. The smell of fresh pretzels and all kinds of meat make the whole experience easy on the senses. I was even singing in German by the end of the day…at least it sounded that way to me!

Ein Prost!

Budapest, Hungary

After arriving in Budapest in desperate need of a shower and a bed, I took it easy the first night. The next day, I explored the city, taking a tour and walking around on my own a bit. Budapest reminds me a lot of Prague, situated along a river and overlooked by a castle on top of a hill. The famous chain bridge, seen in the picture, leads directly to St. Steven’s basilica, probably my favorite church I’ve seen so far. Before attending mass, I went to the Terror House, a museum depicting the oppression of the Hungarian people by both the Nazis and the Soviets. The museum sits directly above some of the prison cells and interrogation rooms. Very powerful.

Budapest is famous for its many baths throughout the city. I spent one afternoon lounging around in the couple dozen pools of varying temperature and smells. It was a perfect day of relaxation, even with the big crowds at the baths. One of the saunas was so hot that my chain started burning my skin! Luckily, there was a big bowl of shaved ice just outside that cooled me down a bit.

Another unique aspect of Budapest is the Ruin Bar concept. Bars located in run down old buildings are filled with strange sculptures, plants, and themed rooms. One room was completely upside down, with a living room and kitchen attached to the ceiling. Another looked like a jungle, while one bar had a giant wooden transformer looking creature climbing a tree in the courtyard. If everything was a little too overwhelming, well you could always sit in the bathtub turned love-seat in the corner of one room.

Budapest is full of character, with a lot to offer for every kind of traveller.

Plitvice Lakes

While in Croatia, my goals were to at least visit Dubrovnik and the Plitvice Lakes national park. Achieving the latter goal turned out to be a little bit more difficult than I expected. From Dubrovnik I took a 5 hour bus ride to Split, a larger coastal town around central Croatia. The bus ride was beautiful, winding along the coast with great views of the bright blue water. From Split, my plan was to take a night train to the capital city of Zagreb, where I could take a bus to and from the lakes and still make it back in time to make it to Budapest that same night.

A ridiculous plan? Yes, but it was necessary for me to save a day on what has somehow become a trip with too little time.

Earlier in my travels, I received some advice from some friends that I should reserve a sleeper car at all costs on overnight trains in Croatia. While I attempted to heed their advice, there was a small problem. A fire along the tracks meant that I would be taking the train from Split for a couple hours before hopping on a bus that would connect us to another train on the other side of the fire. That meant one thing: No bed. Come to find out, an armament shed had blown up and scattered grenades and explosives all over the tracks. Of course. So after the 2 hour dirt road bus ride, we finally got on the next train around 3am. As the crowd traveling the opposite direction exited the train, it was clear they had just returned from some kind of soccer match. Waving flags and holding beer cans, they all came stumbling out of the train leaving behind cabins littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, and, somehow, muddy floors. Luckily, I found an empty cabin that was somewhat clean and got a few hours sleep before the train arrived in Zagreb around 7:30, one hour late.

That one hour was just enough time for me to miss my bus to the lakes. Hopping on the next bus meant I would only have a couple hours at the park, which was a little disheartening, but I was determined to make it work, especially since I already had my hostel booked in Budapest for that night. Once I arrived at the park, I was only able to explore about half of it, but it did not disappoint. Turquoise lakes of varying sizes are situated at different levels throughout the park. Waterfalls big and small connect the lakes with the big waterfall (a few hundred feet tall) below the last lake. While the water flow was lower than average due to the dry summer, the park was still very beautiful and worth the effort to get there. Though I was rushed a bit, I was still able to take in and appreciate the natural beauty surrounding me.

Getting back to Zagreb was another adventure as the bus decided to just not show up. After convincing a few people to go in on a taxi together, I made it back with just enough time to grab my bags and catch the train to Budapest.

Somehow, someway, after grenades, dirt roads, delays, and no shows, I had accomplished everything I had set out to do. I might think twice about planning that many connections again…but probably not.

A Good Day

My first day in Dubrovnik was exactly what the doctor ordered for a traveler with a lot to see and not a lot of time. After touring the city walls and exploring the old town, I was lucky enough to find a group of people heading to the Buza Bar: your typical hole in the wall hangout spot, only not. First off, Buza is actually a hole in the wall, that centuries old wall I talked about in the last post. Once you venture through the unmarked hole, you find tables and chairs scattered along the cliffs, with servers hopping around to take everyone’s orders. Work your way down further toward the water and you find stone steps leading into the water, with rocks all over that serve as perfect diving boards.

After climbing to the highest rock I could find and taking the plunge, I headed out to the port to take the ferry over to Lokrum island, seen in the photo. Lokrum is filled with wild peacocks and is a fun spot to explore. Naturally, I immediately went exploring for some more rocks to jump from. The back side of the island had the treasure I was looking for. A wide open stretch of cliffs provided the perfect launching spot. In the water below, a friend and I discovered some caves that stretched deep into the cliffside. It was eerily silent inside the seemingly never ending cave. Once we reached the end, our eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the water became crystal clear. We then swam around the side of the island, attempting to hitchhike with the kayakers, but our efforts were to no avail.

A good meal and an evening drink at the Buza Bar capped off a pretty successful day. The photo shown is from the mountainside behind the city, a perfect spot to watch the sunset and take in the beauty and character of the city.

Dubrovnik, Croatia

While it was sad leaving the family in Italy, I was excited to become a traveler again. After taking the overnight ferry from Italy, I arrived in Dubrovnik a bit tired, but ready to explore. While it was still semi-cool in the morning, I toured the old city walls. The views from the wall were incredible, with the old city on one side and the jagged coastline on the other, with cliffs just begging to be jumped from. Bright blue/green water gently washes against the rocky coast as everything from cruise ships to sailboats to jetskis roam around the harbor. The old town is filled with narrow, steep streets, some bustling with tourists, some silent and empty except for clotheslines draped across the windows. Dubrovnik is a fusion of ancient mystique and modern day tourism and charm. From lookout towers to cliffside bars, the city embraces the past and the present, and I dig it.

A Local Guide

A foreign exchange student from Oroville High School (Dafna) was kind enough to show me around her city for a couple days. She took me all around the city to some great restaurants, the beach, and the windmill park you see above. Miraculously, it wasn’t raining so it was nice to see some sights and walk around in the sun. Nothing beats having a local show you around, and it was great to catch up on the last few years, a few thousand miles from home.

Now it’s Doo-ee (goodbye) to Amsterdam and off to the motherland!

Amsterdam

Wow. Take a deep breath. Actually, don’t do that. You never know what you might be breathing in…

As I walked into my hostel bombarded by the smell of burning hash, I wasn’t sure what I had gotten myself into. Not being into the whole drug and prostitution scene, walking around in such an atmosphere was not the most enjoyable thing in the world. It didn’t take long to realize, though, that there is much more to Amsterdam than the “legal” activities.

Canals run all through the city, with top heavy buildings leaning out into the streets at every corner. There are a multitude of museums, including the Van Gogh and the Anne Frank house, the two that I visited (sorry, no photos allowed). The Anne Frank house was very surreal. It’s hard to imagine how an entire family hid there for so long, and how discreet they really were. The idea of a trapdoor behind a bookshelf is something I had always thought to be such a cool idea when I was younger. However, seeing a bookshelf that not only guarded a trap door, but the lives of a family as well, shed some new light on that perspective.

The city has character, regardless of the activities you choose to participate in. Just be sure to look both ways before, during, and after you cross the road. In a city with more bikes than people, you never know when you may be a target of a maniac on wheels!

London, England

After leaving Belgium, I made my way across the channel to London. I actually ran into some issues with the border control because I didn’t have the address I was going to or a ticket out of the country yet, but luckily they let me in!

London is huge. There are loads of things to do and see, and I’ve actually enjoyed it more than I was expecting. I also have conceded the fact that they actually do drive on the proper side of the road…I’m sorry my fellow Americans, but it’s true.

I’ve been lucky enough to stay with a friend of mine from elementary school while I’ve been over here. We have walked basically everywhere in the city the last couple days, hanging out with some royalty, Big Ben, and of course Harry Potter. Now if I could only find Austin Powers….

The Best Beer in the World

…No, really.

Here in Belgium, beer is kind of a big deal. Beer shops are everywhere, filled with selections of hundreds of different beers. It seems impossible that one of the hundreds could actually claim the title of being the BEST, and that people could actually agree.

But people do. The Trappist Westvleteren 12 is continually ranked #1 on almost every beer rating metric or website in existence. If it were up to the Trappist monks of the Saint Sixtus abbey, there wouldn’t be so much fuss about their beer. It is brewed just to keep the monastery going, and isn’t marketed or sold publicly. There is a pub across the street where you can drink it on tap, which happens to be the only place where that is possible. In order to get a case of 24 bottles, you must call the beer hotline, hope to get through, then register your license plate number and show up on the correct date and time. You are allowed to do this 1 time each month. That’s it. The monks had to start doing this because people were buying up cases to sell to the general public. I guess that’s what happens when you “accidently” make the best beer around.

How did i manage to get my hands on a bottle you ask? Without a car? Without a reservation? Well, I went shopping on the Bruges Black Market of course! Before I knew the difficulty of getting a hold of the beer, I asked in a beer shop if they had it.

“No, it’s illegal to sell”

-“Wait, really?”

“Yes, you won’t find it, it’s illegal”

Conversation over.

So this was going to be a little bit more difficult than I thought. The next beer shop that I went into was a small Mom and Pop store by the hostel. The owner was a little nicer about the whole situation, but unfortunately he had run out of his supply and was hoping to get back up to the abbey on Monday. 0 for 2. The third try, however, was the charm. Just outside the city center was another beer shop that had what I was looking for. He had to go into the back to get it, but there it was: a label-less brown bottle with a cap bearing the Westvleteren 12 name and the Monk’s logo. Of course, I also bought the special goblet meant for drinking the beer. I figured I might as well go all out, it’s not every day you drink the best beer in the world, right?

So the mission was accomplished, I had finally found what I was looking for and all that was left between me and the beer was a day of sightseeing and 30 minutes of refrigeration. The nearly foamless, opaque brown nectar filled the glass perfectly, and went down as smooth as butter.

I’m not sure what was more enjoyable, the beer itself or the chase, but in the end, does it really matter?

Flirting with Death

Now that I have managed to get past all the not-so-safe parts of my trip, I figured now it would be safe to reflect on how I’ve escaped serious bodily harm so far.

How I made it through the running of the bulls with only a stained shirt and a little bruise on my shin is a mystery to me. I would like to think that it was my speed, agility, and quick thinking ability that got me through, but I would be lying to myself. It was pure luck. Plain and simple. If one of those bulls decided he was coming after me, I was a goner, and that’s all there is to it. For this reason, I think I will have a hard time recommending it to anyone who asks, for no other reason then I’d hate to be responsible for whatever may happen to them! Would I do it again? No. Do I regret doing it? Absolutely not. Should you do it? Ya, but don’t tell anyone I said so…

Moving on to Switzerland, I don’t think I necessarily flirted with death, per-se, but there were a few situations that could have ended a lot worse than they did. After we had found a campsite in front of the Matterhorn, we talked about building a fire like it was some kind of luxury. Turns out it was a necessity. Sub 20°F weather isn’t the most comfortable or safest thing to be in without a tent or an adequate sleeping bag, just ask Jason Carian. Luckily, we had enough heat to last part of the night, with the sun coming up just in time. During our other hikes, it was a crapshoot as to whether or not we were going to get rained on. Luckily, the dice didn’t come up snake eyes while we were asleep up there! The last adventurous stunt in Switzerland was Canyonning. It basically consists of jumping off cliffs, sliding down rock faces, rapelling down waterfalls, and shimmying between rocks above the river, you know, the usual. I managed to escape this with little more than a gash in my finger. That may have been because of the invincibility suit they had everyone wear. I was set with my double wetsuit, butt tarp, helmet, water shoes, and life jacket; I think I could have rolled down the canyon and been fine!

I thought I was done worrying my mother…until I got to Norway. Apparently, there’s a lot of adventurous things to do here! The picture you saw in the last post was on top of Preikestolen (Pulpit Rock). The rock formation is a shear cliff that jets out over the Lysefjord 2000 feet below. It’s a pretty amazing sight, especially with your feet hanging over the edge. The wind blowing up from over the edge was so strong that it felt like if I leaned over it would just push me back onto the rock. I did not, however, test this theory. The lougie I hawked, though, did immediately fly back over my head and into the air behind me. Today’s photo is of me on Kjeragbolten, a boulder wedged between two shear cliffs. What you can’t see in the photo is the fact that this rock is almost 3500 feet above the fjord below. Straight. Down. The heavy fog made the hop to the rock a little bit less terrifying as I couldn’t see down to the bottom, but I still knew what was below me, namely, nothing! I usually don’t get too nervous with heights, but I’m not going to lie, I was a little freaked out by the whole idea of stepping onto a little rock wedged between a couple cliffs. As if the boulder wasn’t enough, the hike to and from was just as treacherous. Cables were set up all along the rock faces that you had to scale, ALA Half Dome in Yosemite. Going up was fine, it was the going down part that provided a few close calls. Apparently in Norway they don’t really make trails, more like suggested routes that can get you places. Definitely not trails, though.

So there you have it, my thoughts on making it through a few close calls and risky situations. Now let’s hope I don’t get hurt falling off a bunk bed or tripping down some steps!

Headed to Belgium next…

Bergen, Norway

The train ride from Oslo to Bergen is world renowned for its changing scenery and picturesque views. The train traveled through everything from rolling hills to raging rivers to glacier filled mountains to the steep cliffs of the fjord. I have to say the ride definitely lived up to the hype. Bergen is a cool little city with a buzzing harbor and beautiful hills surrounding it. This picture is taken from one of those hills overlooking the city. I didn’t hike up here, I took the funicular (cheating, I know). I did, however, sleep on the hill, so at least I roughed it a little bit. More on that later…

From Bergen, it was off to Stavanger for my boat in the morning!

Oslo, Norway

Upon arriving in Oslo, I made my way to the tourist center to figure out how I would spend the upcoming couple days. The city guide brochure was titled:

OSLO: Visit Peace

I thought this was tragically ironic given the recent attacks in the city. After wandering around, however, it made perfect sense. 2 minutes outside the city center, sounds of birds, trees, bikes, and the occasional car fill the air. People walking don’t seem to be in a hurry and drivers don’t get impatient at stop signs because, well, there are none. The typical Scandanavian streets are lined with colorful houses and lead at some point or another into a park. I visited a park lined with over a hundred statues of humans in their barest form in various positions and states of emotion. It was actually really interesting. Out on museum island, I hung out in another park, looking back at the city across the water, with dozens of sail boats cruising around the islands. There aren’t a whole lot of sites to see here in Oslo, but somehow I took more photos in a day than I have in weeks. I think that says something about this place…

I don’t know if it’s because I am a little worn down from traveling, or if it’s because I am getting a little sick, or maybe that my subconscious was telling me so, but there is something about this place that truly is peaceful, and I am happy to for the experience.

A Reflection on Reflections

Ever since I can remember, I have been fascinated with reflections. Whether it’s mountains onto lakes, buildings in puddles, or simply my shadow on the ground, something about seeing reality slightly distorted from a different perspective intrigues me. It is somewhat comical, but in looking at my pictures, I almost always have a picture of myself reflected in some puddle or fountain. Rarely do my self portraits make it through my daily deletion of unnecessary photos, but every now and then, I find a gem. Riding the rails from Sweden to Norway, I have passed by numerous lakes containing the reflection of the tree filled hills surrounding them. I am immediately reminded of my trip to Glacier National Park in Montana last summer. It was there, at Bowman Lake, that I saw the most majestic reflection I have ever witnessed.

I’ll be looking to top that as I explore the fjords of Norway in the next few days, but at the very least I’ll make some valiant Peter Pan attempts at capturing my shadow on the wall…

Stockholm

I spent the last couple days in Stockholm, Sweden doing what I do best: Walking around all day, getting lost, finding a park to nap in, and learning a thing or two about history. My hostel was located in Old Town Stockholm, a centrally located island that was a good base point to explore from. Stockholm consists of a bunch of islands and about 10 times as many bridges! Most all of them led to the old town island, so I was usually able to make it back just fine. The city was always buzzing, with boats coming in and out of the many harbors. I took a boat ride yesterday to an island called Birka, an old Viking town. While there wasn’t too much to see there, the tour guide told us a lot about the history and the ride there and back was beautiful and peaceful.

Like everywhere in Scandanavia, Sweden was very expensive, so, besides the Swedish meatballs, I had to stick to the trusty grocery store cuisine: bananas, apples, bread, and beans…mmmmm

Headed to Norway next!