Hallo! Last we chatted, I was just departing dear Liechtenstein. My train ride passed some gorgeous mountain villages and lots of out-of-season ski slopes.
My first stop in Austria was Innsbruck, a little city tucked into the alps. And I mean seriously – this place is absolutely surrounded by huge, snowy mountains. I’m used to seeing the Olympics and the Cascades on the distant horizon from certain vantages, but having these huge mountains looming so close from all angles was another experience entirely!
I dropped my bags at my hostel and had several very awkward encounters with the hostel check-in guy. He was just kind of all over the place, and when I found out he could give me a free public transit card, he was very strange about it, and I had to wait over a half hour before I received it. So yeah, not great. But there were several sweet Australian girls in my room, and we chatted a bit!
Then I was off!
I planned to get up to “The Top of Innsbruck, a viewpoint area that required multiple cable cars and lots of €€ to get to, but in the end, I’d taken so long to get the transit pass that I would have only had fifteen minutes at the top. I settled, instead, for the views from the bottom of the first cable car, and those were quite lovely on their own!
Then I made my way back toward the river.
And then to Old Town, hustling and bustling with activity.
One of my favorite things to do is to get a good view, and this city was full of them. I climbed the City Tower for a view from the center of it all!
Check out the staircase!
Then I simply wandered around. I found some beautiful churches and the Triumphpforte.
My walk back was just as lovely!
Innsbruck was much like Lichtenstein, in that I endured much less rain than expected. Fine by me! It was mostly sunny or partly cloudy all day long, and relatively warm. I’d worked up a craving for goulash by this point, so I grabbed an outdoor table and a glass of Zweigelt. ‘Twas quite yummy.
I only ordered a bowl of the goulash, but they served me a (more expensive) goulash meal, which came with this strange dumpling ball thing. I think it was mainly potato and flour? Very chewy and super filling. I left a few pieces of the extra tough meat because I just couldn’t eat any more!
I’m still on my early clock, so I caught up with my Australian bunk mate and settled in for bed around ten. This was my first time in a hostel dorm room in four years, though, and I’m out of practice! My bunkmate got up to pee at one point, and then several other girls did the same. Because of the streetlights streaming in through the window behind me, I just assumed it was morning time! I spent a bunch of energy trying to rouse myself, only to finally look at my watch and see that it was 2:30am! Yikes! The whole night was very restless, with people getting up to pee constantly. I didn’t get much sleep, though my Fitbit says I did. I don’t trust it this time!
Because I was so groggy in the morning, and I couldn’t think of much to do, I wandered and wandered until I found a nice Turkish café for breakfast. I popped a squat and read for nearly two hours! I even got a refill on my yummy Turkish tea. It was delightful.
Innsbruck seemed like a pretty sleepy town while I was there. I think generally, it’s just a gateway to the mountains, but we’re very much in the off-season right now. Not enough snow for skiing and snowshoeing, but too much snow for hiking and mountain biking. So it just didn’t seem super lively! I was also bummed because my hostel had a bar with a lovely menu and regularly scheduled live music, but I stayed on a Sunday and May 1st, which is a holiday in Austria, so the bar was closed both nights! Hmph.
Carrying on with the wandering after breakfast, I found some more pretty churches.
This is the most famous building in Innsbruck, with the Gold Roof:
I wanted to visit the Hofkirche, which seemed to be the most famous church in Innsbruck, so I bought a combined museum ticket, which got me into several museums in the area.
The first was the Volkskunstmuseum, or Fold Art Museum, which was connected to the Hofkirche by this beautiful courtyard.
Though I hadn’t planned to see this museum, it ended up being quite lovely! Lots of old rooms set up in the old style, with huge stoves in the corner and lots of wood paneling and carved wooden furniture. I couldn’t tell if any of them were original to the building or if they were all recreations.
In fact, my favorite part of this museum was the sheer amount of intricate wood carvings. Brushes, rolling pins, chests, cribs, weapons. So many beautiful carvings!
There were also lots of strange modern touches. For example, I might be wandering around a room, looking at things in the center, when suddenly, I’d hear a light click on in a cupboard I’d just passed. I’d open the cupboard to find more objects inside. Motion detecting exhibits! I had quite a start when a full door swung open at once to let me into the upper level of the Hofkirche. Was not expecting that!
The ground floor of the church is famous for its huge bronze figures. You’ll see the one that made me giggle. The information pamphlet even said, “The wearing of the patina shows that it is often touched.” Yikes!
Thoroughly pleased by that visit, I picked up a treat for a snack. It was fluffy and delicious!
And then I was off again, this time further uphill in the opposite direction than I’d gone the day before. I came across a couple more lovely churches.
And then I was treated with a view!
I was here to visit the Tirol Panorama museum, which had a huge panoramic painting of a battle taking place in the surrounding area. It was also peppered with more viewing rooms, lots of artifacts, and some… Strange historical art pieces.
Ha! Scary!
I was impressed that the panorama itself really was of this same area, with those same two beautiful churches I’d just visited below! Lots of other buildings had not yet been erected, though.
I went outside to catch one more glimpse of the view.
And then I discovered a little hiking path, the Panoramarunde. It circled the Bergisel Olympic ski jump as it wandered through the forest.
That ski jump is no joke!!! Several stories high! It takes a special kind of insanity to think skiing down and jumping off that thing is a good idea!
The hike took about an hour, by which time, it was finally sprinkling just slightly.
Back in town, I visited the Swarovski store. This was my favorite piece, and it could be yours for a mere $16,000!
I had a yummy dinner of salmon tagliatelle with white wine, and then I made my way back across the river to my hostel.
I caught up with my bunk mate, who was also leaving the next morning, and then I was out again by ten! Gotta rest up for the travel day ahead. Danke, Innsbruck, for all the lovely viewpoints! And for not raining too much!
Hello, Liechtenstein! I managed to get in bed just after 10 last night, and with the help of a 10 hour recording of a box fan on Spotify, I mostly drowned out the chatter of my neighbor Antonio, who was gabbing on the phone all evening. I even mustered up the courage to set an 8am alarm, and I was out the door my 8:25! (Jetlag, who?)
The reason I was all gung-ho about getting out the door was because my first activity in Liechtenstein was to take some llamas for a walk! No kidding!
This was also part of the frustration from the night before. I was supposed to get 10 CHF off (about $12), but I didn’t realize until I’d already paid. Ugh.
But it was lovely! I came to Liechtenstein with the intention of hiking, but I knew the rain was going to put a stop to that unless I tied some money to it.
My llama was named Balou, and he was taller than me. He was also very strong! But very well-behaved! We were warned that they would want to eat at every chance they got, and one of the ladies on the tour ditched very early because she was frustrated at her hungry llama and the uphill trek.
It rained and rained on our walk, but it wasn’t too bad. We still got some nice scenery in, but it did make me want to come back in better weather. Balou didn’t seem to mind.
Balou was resistant to a hug at the end of our walk, haha. What a cutie!
After my trek through Triesenberg, I bought some raw milk (unpasteurized and unhomogenized) from a little farm stand. It was so tasty!! So creamy and frothy and delicious. Yum!
Then I made my way back into town to visit the National Museum. I love national museums because you never know what you might find. How do you showcase an entire country in one building?
Liechtenstein, for their part, had one area for history, some art, some current events, some natural history, and a weird shrine to futbol (soccer). All in all, a fun visit!
I thought this was a real man in costume until I entered from a different part of the room and realized he hadn’t moved in five minutes. Ha!
There was a native art exhibit with animals that were made out of a wide variety of materials, including whale bone! Those were the coolest to me.
I thought the queen, Sedna, whose fingertips apparently turned into the seals, walruses, and whales, was a little funny looking. But I admire her contribution!
This narwhal is carved from a whale bone, and the horn is a real narwhal horn! Crazy!
Next, I wandered Vaduz center a bit (pronounced “Va-doots”) and visited the cathedral.
I wanted to visit the art museum, but my energy was waning, so I had a spot of muesli while I wrote a postcard. Yum!
Unfortunately, most of the art museum was being turned over into new exhibits, so only one room was open, but it was still nice.
Currently writing from the “princely” cellars of Hofkellerei des Fürsten von Liechtenstein, a wine cellar owned by the royal family of Liechtenstein. One of the activities included in the Liechtenstein Adventure Pass was a free tasting of two wines! Here’s a view from the vineyards outside:
I had to bumble about for a while as the wine lady catered to a couple who is actually paying for their tasting and may even pay for some bottles of wine, but eventually, I got a lovely table and a first pour of rosé. It was okay.
I was thrilled to receive a little piece of bread topped with what I believe is egg salad? Yum. Mostly I was thrilled, though, because the first glass was starting to hit me, and it seemed wise to have some food in my stomach.
After that, I was hoping to try one of the Pinot noirs grown locally, and the wine lady ended up just telling me I could try two rather than choosing! Currently sipping….
Update: I do NOT like the red wines. Bummer! They were both made from grapes grown in Vaduz, I believe just right outside where I’m sitting! But I’m not quite sure how to describe them…. Smoky, but with a strange bitterness I just can’t put my finger on. Or maybe it’s tang? The nose is acidic and sour in a very unpleasant way!!! Truly just does not taste or smell good, haha. I feel bad because the wine lady really talked them up! They are “cold weather wines,” since it doesn’t get very warm here. A similar climate to Seattle, I’d say. One was fermented in a steel container, and the other was fermented in oak barrels. I did not like either! I think the oak barrel one was maybe less painful?? Reminds me of…. If a smoked cheese tried to pretend to be a wine. Idk. I’m just doing my best to get them down so that I don’t insult my lovely host!
Earlier this afternoon, I tried one of their wines that the wine lady described as a “blonde Pinot noir.” I didn’t quite (WOO, I’m tipsy) catch her description, so I’m not sure how exactly a Pinot noir can be white, but it was, and it was tasty. I did, in fact, enjoy that one. (DAMN, I may have trouble getting home, hahahaha.)
OMG, wine lady just offered me ANOTHER taste!!! I seriously just can’t. This is about as far gone as I’ve ever been. If I had a buddy here in a better state, I would maybe accept the sample and trust them to get me home. But not alone! Gotta travel wise! Don’t want to end up in a ditch somewhere! Lololol.
I just overheard Wine Lady explain that they only sell their wines in this shop, in one shop in Austria, and online. Crazy!
…
Hoi! (That’s how they say “hi” in Liechtenstein.) Drunk Lizzy is gone. Thank goodness. I return to you as Sober Lizzy to finish my tale.
I did manage to make my way safely home that night, upon which I promptly fell asleep at 7:30. I didn’t want my sleep schedule to be all messed up though, so I roused myself an hour later, took a shower, caught up with folks back home, and was officially in bed around ten.
Unfortunately, I woke up at 2am to the sound of a screaming animal outside, and I was never able to go back to sleep! Ugh! I tried and tried for hours, enlisting the help of sleep podcasts and meditation, to no avail.
Eventually, I gave up and got to work planning out the latter half of my trip, which is as yet unplotted. So that was good.
When I determined I really wasn’t going to get any more sleep and it really wasn’t raining, I mustered the courage to get out of bed and put myself on a gorgeous bus ride back up into the mountains.
I headed up past where I took Balou for a walk, all the way into the mountains to Malbun, a ski resort. I was hoping to take the chair lift up to a small hike I found online, but everything was out of commission for the off-season. It was truly only me and the bus driver up there.
I played around for a little while and admired the most PERFECT mount for my aerial yoga hammock, and eventually, I caught the bus back into town.
Back in Vaduz, I grabbed a snack and this cool recycled cutlery set!
Then I started my trek up to Vaduz Castle, past some funky houses and some lovely viewpoints.
The castle was, of course, under construction. I have a knack for visiting beautiful places when they’re covered in scaffolding! The Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, the landmark building in Annecy, to name a few! I’ll add Vaduz Schloss to the list!
I kept waiting for it to rain, but it never did!! It was such a gorgeous day! I was attacked by biting ants when I tried to take some pictures at a little bench at one point, but I carried on!
Once past the castle, I decided to continue toward a viewpoint, and I’m so glad I did! The view was gorgeous!
I had to force out a bunch of locals so I could get my time on the platform, but it was worth it!
The way back down was much less strenuous, and I passed several beautiful views, including a famous Red House and several small vineyards.
My last museums to visit were the Post Museum and the Treasure Chamber. My favorite items in the Treasure Chamber were this gorgeous, 122-year-old Fabergé egg and the right hand glove for a ceremonial suit of armor. Look at those hinges and interlocking protective plates! Look at the gold and the jewels!
So pretty. After this, I made my way back outside for the 100-year anniversary celebration of Liechtenstein’s economic treaty with Switzerland. I got a delicious hotdog and a free beer.
The beer was surprisingly tasty, but it was so huge, and I barely made a dent in it! I mustered the courage to offer it to a boy at the next table over, and based on his, “Sure,” with a shoulder shrug upon my offer, I’m pretty sure he was American! I regret running away so fast, as per my plan before approaching. I wish I’d stayed to chat a bit!
All of Liechtenstein seemed to be out at the old and new Reine bridges crossing into Switzerland, which were closed to traffic for the festival. Live music, fun for the kids, and an acrobatics show were all going on!
I walked down into the river bed for a bit to investigate the dark grey waters, and I found a strange clay-like silt covering everything. It was so smooth and slimy! Made me want to take my shoes off, but I resisted.
Myself and my phone were both thoroughly exhausted now, having spent nearly eight hours in the sun, so I popped into the National Library (so tiny!) to recharge both. I passed the time by reading a couple German teen magazines. Easier than I thought it would be!
I was craving ice cream by this point, so I fixed myself up with some mango gelato and had an early dinner of a free bratwurst I’d picked up at the festival.
When they say bratwurst here, they really do mean just the brat. No bun. Add a bun, and it’s a frankfurter. I’ll save you the picture, though. It’s not very flattering!
Here’s a miniature of Vaduz Schloss I found in town, without the scaffolding:
Though it was still only six, I felt I was about to pass out from my lack of sleep the night before, and several strange parts of me were sunburnt (my wrists, my neck), so I went back home, did some phone chores, took a shower, and was out by nine. I got a full ten hours of sleep! Thank goodness!
This morning, I had breakfast with my host, Roswitha, added a Seattle pin to her guest map, grabbed a snack in town, and now I’m off to Austria!
Off on another adventure, though I feel more tired than in the past. Am I getting old?? I used to be so sprightly.
This will be my second time touching land in four different countries within the span of 24 hours. I started in Seattle (USA!) and flew direct to London (UK). I got a nice window seat with the middle seat empty, so I was able to tuck up my legs and spread out. I only bothered the girl on the aisle to pee three times, and I swear she did not pee once the entire flight. Suspicious, honestly.
I watched The Fablemans (not bad!) and A Man Called Otto (I liked the book better, but it was still cute). I did not, unfortunately, sleep much. Hence this gibberish writing you’re seeing.
The best part of the flight was the views! I picked the left side so that I could enjoy the sunset, but I miscalculated and was surprised to also enjoy the sunrise! That’s a polar flight for you! Actually, the sun only really set for a brief few hours. The light never really faded, as though the sun was always waiting just beneath the clouds. It was very pretty!
The worst part of the flight was when I spilled a packet of sugar on my seat and attempted to brush it onto the floor, resulting in sticky hands. Yuck.
But then I was rewarded with yet another amazing sight! Oxford!!!!
That was very cool. The round building is the “Oxford Camera,” which is actually just a big library. It was fun seeing it from the air after having seen it from the ground a few years back!
We landed early, but it took me nearly 45 minutes to disembark. They had to bring busses out to us and kept needing to bring more while we just stood in the aisle. So that wasn’t great. But I still made my next flight with plenty of time to spare. Check out some pretty views from that window seat:
Since landing in Zurich (Switzerland), I’ve spent the last three hours bumbling around trying to find my way to Liechtenstein. Liechtenstein is the first real stop on my trip!
I thought this was a made-up place for a very long time, because I knew it from “A Knight’s Tale.” The main character poses as a knight and is always introduced as “Ulrich von Liechtenstein!!!” But it is, in fact, a real place, and I will be crossing its border with Switzerland in a matter of minutes!
So you may be wondering – what’s this trip all about, anyway? Did I just quit my job again? About to start a new one? No, and hopefully! I was let go!! Perks of working in tech: all the perks. Downsides: big ol’ layoffs. So yes, I panicked and felt compelled to go somewhere, even though I really did like my job and honestly would have rather kept it, but here I am. In Switzerland. Staring at some craaaaazy mountains.
This will be a six week trip (40 days, to be exact), and I already miss my boo-thang. Dangit! Whenever I do these big solo trips, I’m always either tied-down or heartbroken! How am I ever supposed to find my Italian husband this way?! Sean, by way of keeping me in check, has threatened to find himself a new Microsoft girlfriend should I follow my dreams abroad. So yeah, it’s going pretty well.
The train ride from Zurich had some amazing views of those crazy mountains I mentioned. (Can you spot the little mountain church?)
Lots of people were out enjoying the sunshine as we passed by the water.
And my bus ride isn’t half bad, either! Anybody want to try translating this sign? (It says “Good Ride,” but it sure did make me giggle.)
…
Okay, update. I decided to eat a waffle snack for dinner because I was too tired to go to a restaurant. Instead, I sat on my own private balcony while trying to figure out how to use an “eSIM card” and accidentally made a bunch of mistakes with money for activities tomorrow. (I should have gotten a discount and didn’t apply it, etc.) But hopefully the activities will make up for my current frustration! It is also supposed to rain the entire time I’m here! Huzzah! Check out the view during my one dry day when I’m too tired to do anything:
I also got a lovely surprise while sitting out here! Some sort of marching band(?) was either performing or practicing nearby, and I got to listen! It was lovely! The birds also are trying very hard to outdo one another, and the church bells chime every hour for several minutes. It’s a musical place, this Liechtenstein!
Okay, that’s all for now. I made it, and we’ll see what happens next!
Back at it again! As I grew closer to the one year anniversary of this trip, I figured it was high time I finish blogging it, before all the details slip away entirely.
To refresh your memories, this trip began in New York, continued through London, where I took day trips to visit Stonehenge and Oxford, and then made its way up to Edinburgh. I had been to Edinburgh once before, and I vowed to come back someday for a bus tour of the Scottish Highlands. This blog is about just such a tour!
While there were plenty of tours to choose from, it was actually really difficult to find accommodation in Edinburgh and in the overnight location for the tour because this was Easter weekend! Easter weekend isn’t a big travel weekend in the States, as far as I know, but in the UK, they get Friday and Monday off of work and school, so lots of people bounce around for the long weekend.
I started my Easter morning early in a crowded little cafe owned by the bus company. It turned out there were loads of different bus companies in Scotland, and each company provided loads of different tours, so this made for a couple sleepless nights shuffling between the options. When I approached the entrance to the cafe, I checked in, and a young Scottish girl said, “I’ll just make you a wee tag.” Why don’t we use the word “wee?!” Do we not realize it is literally the cutest word in the English language?! Come on, people!
As I sat in the crowded cafe and watched people ordering breakfast and running to the bathroom “one last time” before boarding our separate buses, I crossed my fingers for a good guide and planned my attack for getting on the bus first – to have my choice of seats.
Somehow, I am fully confident I ended up with the best guide the company had to offer. His name was Jim. He was a jolly, knowledgeable Scottish fellow, and he knew how to navigate those crazy one-lane roads through the countryside like he was born behind the wheel of a seventeen-seater minibus. I will admit that at times, he worried me a bit when he reached up and looked back to point at (and draw on!) the map hanging above his head. But no accidents occurred, and he kept us in high spirits, indeed.
This minibus was fancy, and I was first aboard. I took one of the solo seats on the left side of the bus with a big window, and I quickly made friends with the only other solo rider, sitting directly behind me, who I began calling “Dan the Military Man” in my head. He was a very kind American soldier in his forties, on tour in Germany, and he took to calling us “battle buddies.” Adorable. We shortly drove our way out of scenic Edinburgh, passing the castle on the way.
As we drove north through the country, we passed pasture after pasture, with rolling green hills. It was very soothing. We stopped at the little town of Pitlochry for some delicious ice cream (I think my flavor was raspberry and Devonshire cream), and as we ventured further from the Scottish capital, the scenery started looking less and less Scottish and more and more Icelandic. So many pretty colors of green and gold, with mountains looming in the background.
We passed a couple whiskey distilleries, and our first proper stop was Strathmathy Falls. We took a little hike through some lush moss-covered forests with a creek running through.
We continued to pass gorgeous hills and lochs, but the main event for the day was the most famous loch in all of Scotland – Loch Ness! Located along the Caledonian Canal, we got set free to roam the little area of Fort Augustus. I grabbed some yogurt (though I really just wanted a second ice cream cone), and then I watched the canal locks raising and lowering the boats so they could access the Loch.
There was a little celebration going on for Easter, and I got a picture with a one-toothed Nessie. Adorable. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a chocolate egg!
Optionally, we could join a cruise of the Loch to search for Nessie! I lagged a bit getting into line, so the boat actually filled up. I wasn’t sure what would happen since I had already paid, but the thirty or so of us who remained got to board a smaller ship, where we got to stretch our legs! The other ship was standing room only. Ha. Sometimes procrastination has its perks.
The guide (who was an ADORABLE Scottish boy – goodness golly) pointed out a possible Nessie ramp between the Loch and the land. He also demonstrated the boat’s radar capabilities so that we could see what the bottom of the loch looked like. But mainly, he was just adorable. I could not get over that accent. I found myself sighing sorrowfully each time I remembered I had a boyfriend joining me later in this trip. (Love you, deer. Tehehe.)
Some fun facts about Loch Ness: a single glass of the loch’s water appears crystal clear, but larger quantities of water appear opaque because of the peat in the water, and there have been more people to space than to the bottom of Loch Ness!
I very much enjoyed the view as we cruised around the loch. I’m not much one for the blazing heat and cool, clear waters. That is beautiful, certainly, but my enjoyment is always undercut by my fear of severe sunburn! In this overcast, but temperate day on the murky Scottish waters, I was in my element.
AND I EVEN SAW NESSIE.
Amazing. (; I had a little more time to explore, and then it was back on the bus. We continued East, with mountains and lochs a-plenty to feast our eyes upon.
We even got to make a stop at a marvelous viewpoint, Mam Ratagan. Oh, and by this point, I was three or four days past my planned laundry day, so my accidental thrifting paid off, and I got to debut my new (5 dollar!) sweater dress.
Aren’t the colors of the landscape spectacular? All the golds and greens and blues…. I still can’t get over it.
Soon after, we reached the town of Glenelg and the Skye ferry. There are two ways to get to the Isle of Skye from the mainland – we could cross by a short ferry to Kylerhea, or we could have taken a detour back at Ratagan to venture up to a series of bridges. We voted for the ferry, though, and each pitched in two pounds for the crossing.
The ferry was very small. It only fit a couple of cars at a time, so our minibus had to wait for the next trip. A few of us boarded as walk-ons, though, to enjoy the fresh air.
It was so pleasant, as was the fifteen minute wait for the next round trip to retrieve our remaining party. I explored the shoreline a bit, and then took a seat on the cracked waterside rock.
The ferry ride was our last big event for the day, and then we were on the home stretch to our destination: the little town of Portree. Funnily enough, Portree is both the capital and largest town of the Isle of Skye, despite its wee size! As I mentioned earlier, it was nearly impossible to find accommodations, since I’d waited right up to the last minute, but I managed to find a somewhat off-the-books hostel right next to the town square!
Believe it or not, the interior of the hostel was painted just as garishly, haha. I was FINALLY able to do some laundry, so I popped down to the basement to start a load before running about the town to explore a bit and find a bite to eat.
I stepped into a couple different restaurants, but, as Jim had warned us, everything was fully booked! It was madness. This little town was fit to bursting. I settled with some to-go noodles and popped a squat on the water to enjoy the sunset and the marina.
Such a charming town. I was exhausted by the end of it, and I barely managed to fold all my laundry and make a sad attempt at blogging before getting some much needed shut-eye.
Bright and early in the morning, I made a stop into the Coop (love this British chain!) to stock up on fruit, smoothies, and lunch for the day, and then it was back on the bus. I pulled a bit of a cheeky move and stole Dan’s seat because it was up higher so that I could see over the tops of the seats in front of me and straight out the front window. I had originally chosen my seat in front of this one because it had an unobstructed window on my left, but my neck was sore from all the craning around the side! Luckily, Dan was a gentleman and had no issue with the switch. A few other exchanges occurred. Notably, the chatty, older Canadian couple from the front switched to the back so a couple whose male partner had a vision impairment could have a better view.
Our first stop in the morning was a viewpoint for the Black Cullins, a beautiful family of mountains. We were given some time to wander the creek bed and the area around the bridge. It was so delightfully sunny!
And you know, this actually reminds me of my many wardrobe malfunctions from the day before. At some point on Day 1, my sunglasses broke at the hinge, but it was so sunny that I tried to wear them with only one arm for a while. Dan kept laughing at me, understandably, because they were sitting cockeyed and wonky on my face! Then, at Loch Ness, I was wandering around, and right when I made eye contact with a man in the distance who might have been Dan, my purse suddenly broke free of my shoulder and collapsed to the ground. It had worn right through the fake-leather strap where it connected to the metal buckle on the purse! So that night, somewhere between laundry and blogging, I sat patiently and did my best to sew my purse back together. Thank goodness for the tiny sewing kit I got in some hotel!
Today, my purse held steady, but I was paying for those missing sunglasses. I even had a spare pair that I had simply forgotten in my hostel. Oops.
Sad to leave this beautiful creek side, we loaded back into the van and were off, past some more of the endless Skye scenery, to the Talisker Distillery.
We were each given a sampling of whiskey, and then we were allowed to roam the shop or the beach. The whiskey was strong! I added a couple drops of water, but it still burned going down. I’d explored the beach while we waited for the whiskey samples, so I backtracked the way we’d come to a park we had passed on our way in. And then I played on the swings and chatted up a cute little family. I guess I know my place… hahaha.
I was the last to board the van, since everybody else was just milling about the little shop the whole time. Jim asked what there was to see over there, and I responded, “There’s a park! I played on it…. With some kids!”
To this, Jim said to the rest of the bus, “That must be the whiskey talking.” Bahahaha.
A little drive later, we pulled over to admire some Scottish sheep. So cute. So fluffy.
Soon, we approached Dun Beag broch, which translates roughly to “small fort.” Estimated to be over 1500 years old, this broch (dry stone round-house), is one of the best preserved dwellings of its kind on the Isle of Skye. Built into the broch are some of the oldest preserved steps in the country.
It was beautiful and windy up on the hill, and I never wanted to leave!
I did some exploring, and then I just lay on the remains of a stone wall and admired the view. Several people asked to take pictures of me, and only in viewing the pictures afterward did I realize that my skirt had been flying up the whole time I was sitting there. Yikes.
We made a couple more stops for rests and viewpoints. Dunvegan Castle, one of the most famous castles on the island, was the star of our second stop, but we were so far away, and the sun was right behind it, so it was hard to get a good look.
We passed several remains of homes that were victims of the Highland Clearances. During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, homes were burnt down and tenants forced out to make room for more sheep pastures. All that remains are the outer stone walls of the homes.
Our van made a brief stop at the Isle of Skye Brewing Company for some beer samples. I’m not a huge fan of beer, but I loved the gift shop, and I indulged in a cocoa-dusted “babyccino,” which turned out to just be steamed, frothy milk! Yum.
The highlight of Day 2, and, if I’ll be honest, the highlight of my whole trip, was Cuith-Raing. Just before we deboarded, Jim showed us a brochure photo of the landscape and scoffed, warning us not to expect anything close to what the brochure depicted.
Well, I don’t know what he was talking about, because THIS PLACE WAS OTHERWORLDLY.
Thank goodness for Dan and his camera skills. But also, would you just look at those colors?! Those shadows?! That everything?!
There really are no words to describe how mesmerized I was. I kept making awkward 360s like Maria in The Sound of Music, trying to soak everything in. I even had Dan hold my purse so I could do some cartwheels! My joy was impossible to contain!
The ground was covered in a strange, springy mix of moss and short-cropped grass. I imagine this was due to some mix of the high winds and plentiful sheep and goats to munch everything down to the bit. It really did make for a perfect frolicking and cartwheeling platform.
I wonder if one could ever truly get used to this beauty. Isle of Skye, how do you do it?!
Into the van again, reeling with smiles and adrenaline, we made our way to Creag An Fheilidh, or “Kilt Rock.” It was basically a precipitous cliff face!
Our last couple stops we made in search of a good angle on the Old Man of Stor, a particularly pointy rock amidst a grouping of other pointy rocks and cliff faces.
And here’s our completed map of the Island! Not too shabby.
We also had a highland cow spotting on our way back to town! Mooooooo…. I was so excited.
We arrived in Portree ahead of schedule thanks to the lovely weather, so I made my way around to explore. One of my favorite stops was The Lump, aptly named and topped with some nice stone lookouts. I got some lovely views of the marina from up here, and I ran into my buddy Dan!
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We set off together to explore the outskirts of town, including a weathered cemetery and a lovely woodland walk.
Yet again, all the restaurants were booked, with the exception of a 3-star Indian restaurant. Reviews said the food was decent, but service not so much. Well, I agree! I wanted to order a curry from the kids menu because I wasn’t very hungry. The waiter asked sarcastically, “Are you twelve?” I said, “No…” He responded, “Then you cannot order off the children’s menu. Here. I’ll do this. You can order off the children’s menu, but you pay double.”
Heck no, techno! I told him to shove it (in my head), and ordered only naan. Pffft. So rude! And he would have gotten more money out of me if I’d ordered my kid’s meal, anyway! Dingus.
A silly end to a lovely day, and I slept peacefully that night in my cozy hostel bed.
Now, if I ever find myself venturing to Europe, I do my very best to make a stop to visit my Danish family. During this trip, though, in order to see my whole family, I had to make two stops! Sara was spending the summer on the Greek islands of Rodos, but there were no non-stop flights between there and Porto. One common layover was in Milan, so I decided to make it a proper stopover, instead.
More than once during my travels, I’ve planned a stop in a place that everyone feels the need to tell me is undesirable. The place is boring or dirty or sketchy, etc. The thing is, by this point, I’m already going to this place, so the only thing someone is going to accomplish by raining on my parade is to make me unhappy!
It seemed practically everyone felt it was important to tell me that Milan was boring and the only thing worth seeing was the Duomo. This ended up putting me in a terrible mood upon arrival. I’d just left one of the most gorgeous and charming cities I’d ever visited, and now here I was, stuck in the Most Boring City in Italy. I was so sulky that I booked the earliest train ride possible out of town the next morning so that I could spend my second day in the small city I’d be flying out of.
I then dinked around a bit in my hostel before deciding to get it over with and see what little there was to see.
People can be so annoying! Within five minutes of stepping outside, I was in love.
The architecture was astounding. So many different shapes and colors were built into the museums, churches, and shopping malls. It was eye candy all over!
I happened across the natural history museum and popped in for a look, only to be greeted by my favorite – a whale skeleton!
Be prepared to be freaked out – apparently whales have fingers???
Crazy! Equally crazy (and slightly more terrifying) is this ginormous, ancient armadillo thing. (Normal armadillo for scale.) This thing was the size of a small car.
I was in such a good mood that I treated myself with some gelato.
Why is gelato not prolific and cheap and served by adorable Italian boys in Seattle?! Huh? I want answers!
Gelato in hand, I eventually made my way to the Duomo to see what all the fuss was about.
I get it, man.
This was not a structure to be scoffed at. This was a structure to marvel for hours on end.
The square in front of the Duomo was teeming with people and pigeons. Some of the people were even baiting the pigeons to land on their arms for photos. Cray.
Visitors were actually allowed to summit the Duomo, but I told myself I didn’t need the extra expense, so I explored the massive interior for a while.
That resolution lasted all of about twenty minutes, and before I knew it, I was high in the sky.
SO beautiful! The flying buttresses made for such amazing decoration to the views around us. Honestly, the close-up statues and detail on the roof was so much more awe-inspiring than what we could see down below, though that was lovely, too.
There was no time limit, so I stayed among the buttresses and sunset for close to an hour, walking back and forth, round and round, exploring all the nooks and crannies I could find. So magical!
By this point, I was thoroughly frustrated with those silly people who had warned me against the bores of this beautiful city. When I finally descended back to the square, I continued my wanderings to one of the large, covered shopping malls.
I certainly didn’t go into any stores, as they were all insane brands I can never imagined owning – Dolce and Gabanna, Versace, Louis Vuitton, etc. Every store was nearly empty, save for a couple men in dashing suits and a couple women in identical, tailored dresses who stood at the ready to follow around any customer who dared enter. Supposedly that is a desirable thing, but it just seems downright terrifying to me.
At one point, I came across a protest march of some sort. Wary of any complications, I kept trying to keep my distance and outrun them, but they kept cutting me off at the next block! Very confusing. As the sun began to really dip below the horizon, I made my way back toward my hostel and found a nearly-empty restaurant to pop down for a proper meal.
I ordered a creamy (creamy, creamy, dreamy) carbonara that came with a side salad. I was going to just drink water, but it cost two euros, and wine was only three, so wine it was!!! I was a bit aghast when the waiter brought out a little pitcher for me (I believe it was a quarter liter!), and my eyes bugged out enough to make him chuckle a bit. I didn’t come close to finishing the wine, but I finished most of the dinner and sent plenty of tipsy texts back home. Such a wonderful solo dinner date.
Still kicking myself a bit for planning to leave the city first thing the next day, I tucked into bed around ten and called it a night.
In the wee hours of the morning, though, I was awoken by a male voice saying, “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey….”
“…Hey.”
….
After the umpth “Hey,” I finally determined that the “Heys” were directed at me, given that nobody else was responding. I warily cracked my eyelids and was met with an image of a young man leaning against the wall across from my lower bunk.
“….Hi…” I croaked sleepily.
The young man then explained to me that he had spent his night trying to go clubbing, but in Milan, clubs do not let in single men – only couples or women. (I later determined that this was a lie.)
I let the dude know that this was interesting. He responded with, “So, do you want to go clubbing?”
Keep in mind that I was still mostly asleep at this point. I informed my new friend that I, in fact, was sleeping, due to the fact that I had a very early morning ahead of me.
He accepted this response and smoothly segued into the standard traveler dialogue – Where are you from? Where are you going? Where have you been? What do you do? etc. This would have been all fine and dandy if this guy had not just WOKEN ME UP WITH A DOZEN “HEY”S AT ONE IN THE MORNING.
But he had. So it was weird. At some point, he told me an abbreviated version of his life story – he was a young Egyptian guy and had just finished travelling around Switzerland. He took this opportunity to sit on my bed, on my feet, so that I had to curl my legs into myself to avoid being squashed, and then he proceeded to show me pictures from his trip. They were nice pictures. Switzerland is pretty.
Switzerland is less pretty at one in the morning when a strange Egyptian boy is sitting on your feet.
Finally determining I had had enough of his shenanigans, I told the boy that I really did need to go back to sleep. He said fine, but how about a hug goodnight? Again, I was confused and tired, so I feebly accepted this weird middle-of-the-night-on-my-lower-bunk hug.
Things escalated when this dude wrapped me up into one of the most tender embraces I have ever experienced. I then became acutely aware of the fact that I was not wearing a bra, and I’m sure Egyptian Man noticed the same thing. Once this realization hit, I did my best to extricate myself from the hug, which literally necessitated that I peel this boy off of me. I then told him I was going to sleep and that he should go, at which point I laid back down to make my point clear.
He wasn’t finished, though. “Wai-wai–wait-wai-wait,” he said. “One more thing.”
I sighed. “What is it?”
He paused and smiled, “I am wondering… can we sleep while hugging?”
I was done. “Nope! No, no, no,” I was shaking my head and literally shoo-ing him off of my bed while he shook his head for a different reason and put his hands up in what I’m sure was supposed to be a calming gesture.
“No no no,” he said. “It is just hugging.”
“Nope!,” I said again. I informed him that I had a boyfriend who would not appreciate that one bit, and I told him he needed to go.
THANKFULLY, at that very moment, the other two girls in our four-bed mixed room came back from their late night shopping spree, saving me from I-don’t-know-what. The boy finally admitted defeat and retreated to his own bottom bunk on the other side of the metal wall between our beds.
Why do people do the things they do?
Believe it or not, I did manage to get some decent sleep after that, and when I woke a few hours later, I hit the road once again and boarded a train to Bergamo.
It was basically love at first sight. The area surrounding the train station is the modern city, lined with quiet streets and normal small-town buildings at this early hour.
Up ahead, though, was a little hill, and perched atop this hill was the old walled city. I made my way over and up in the cool morning.
I know I just called it a little hill, but it was really a decent climb, and by the time I reached the top, the sun was shining down on the fields and modern city below. It was so magical!
I was surprised and delighted to find that, for no good reason whatsoever, a small zipline was being operated at the top of the hill, spanning the distance from one turn in the winding road to the other. Zipliners flew suspended over the fields with the modern city sprawled below and the old city shining above. I had to do it.
It was quick, cute, and thrilling. Made me wish I had a GoPro, because they wouldn’t let me hold my camera while ziplining!
I was surprised to find that within the old city walls, the town was teeming with life and visitors. It was such an unexpected contrast to the sleepy modern city I’d been in just an hour or two before. I celebrated with another gelato.
The architecture in the old city, especially Bergamo Cathedral, was magnificent – so extravagant and glorious for such a small city.
Thoroughly enchanted by the quiet bustle of the town, I tucked into a little botanical garden and enjoyed the views and quiet.
Too soon, though, it was time to take a slow, winding bus back down to the train station, and then to the airport once again. Stay tuned for more on this adventure, but after a round of present-day blogs!
I know Porto is not well-known as The City of Love, but it is in my book. Or maybe The City of Boys would be more accurate. Bahahaha.
When I landed arose from the subway in Porto for the first time, I was met with hustle and bustle galore. A singing girls’ group was performing a beautiful song with a cajon, tambourines, and trilling bird calls. Such a magical introduction to the city.
I checked into my hostel and was informed that a walking tour was about to start, so I gladly volunteered to join. If I remember correctly, I believe the guide’s name was Nuni. After waiting for a bit, he offered me a rose (“For you!”) and we were off. Off to a good start, if you catch my drift. Hahaha.
It was just the two of us, which I was perfectly fine with, but he told me we were actually making our way to meet up with more people. On the way, out of nowhere, a speeding little hatchback zoomed onto the sidewalk while rounding a corner, and we had to jump out of the way to avoid being crushed!
“Did he just drive into the sidewalk?!” I asked incredulously.
Nuni replied, “In Porto, there are no sidewalks!” I was stunned to silence.
We met up with dozens of other waiting visitors and were split into groups. I was given to a different guide (booo), but he was fun, too. Everybody kept complimenting my rose and asking where I had gotten it, but I kept dodging the question. It wasn’t until halfway through the tour that my guide looked over suddenly and said, “Did Nuni give you that flower?” I sheepishly nodded, and he shook his head as if to say, “That Nuni is up to his old tricks again!”
Our tour brought us up through the center of the city and down around the sides to several viewpoints. Once, our guide impressed us by saying the word “lice” in every language our group spoke, for this was the nickname for one of the most popular cafes in the city. It is said that after class, students flock to this cafe like lice onto a scalp. Yuck.
I was amazed yet again by the views offered by Portugal, and I also made a friend in my photographer – a devilishly handsome young man from New York. (That’s boy number two, if you’re keeping track.)
As the tour wrapped up, it began to sprinkle. I did a bit more wandering, popped into one of the most lavish McDonald’s restaurants on the planet for some treats and a macaron (why don’t they serve macarons in the US?!), and then I made my way back to the hostel for dinner.
This hostel didn’t provide mama-cooked meals, but they did serve a multi-course Portuguese dinner with endless wine and port at the end!
We had a stewed rice dish that was drool-making. I sat with a German girl and a young Portuguese lady who worked at the hostel. This came in handy because the Portuguese girl could explain all the dishes and traditions to us. For example, before our main dish was delivered, each table received a little ceramic boat filled with oil and a sausage. She showed us that the host or guest of honor is supposed to dip a spoon into the oil, light the spoon on fire, and use this makeshift torch to light the oil in the boat. This way, the sausage can cook right before our eyes! So tasty. It was a sort of chorizo sausage and was so, so yummy.
Most of the dining room was taken up by a group of 20+ Dutch high school students who were visiting for a school trip. Partway into the meal, they began singing and chanting in raucous merriment while the rest of us looked on and got in conversation during the odd bits of quiet.
The German girl at my table was on her first day of a weeks-long trip where she would walk the Camino Pilgrimage, by herself, through Portugal, Spain, and France before returning to Germany. So impressive.
After dinner, I met a few people staying in my dorm room and tucked in to prepare for a full day ahead.
In the morning, I tried to sit next to some friends at breakfast, but they weren’t having it, so breakfast was a solitary affair.
That is, until the very end, when I noticed Bart, a red-headed, lanky Dutchman from my dorm room sitting down to eat alone a few tables away. I stopped to chat a bit and mentioned I was planning to make my way to Clérigos Tower to try to beat the crowds, and he asked if he could join.
Little did I know that it those moments, I was forming a friendship that would span many countries, many years, and many emailed pen-pal exchanges!
You see, the problem was that 1) I volunteered to lead the way and 2) I ended up getting us horribly lost. When I finally relinquished my map duties to Bart, he informed me that we had been traversing the city in the exact opposite direction from the tower. Oops. We got there nearly two hours after opening instead of right at 9 o’clock as I had planned.
The tower sights were lovely, as were the brilliant decorations of the interior, and it’s always nice to get a view from above.
Seeing as we had spent the full of the morning together at this point, rather than breaking off, Bart simply asked, “What should we do now?”
I ended up repeating bits and pieces of my tour from the day before as we passed familiar spots and landmarks, and we managed to glimpse many more views of the city’s wondrous red roofs.
As the afternoon set on, we made our way down to the shores of the Duomo and across the magnificent Dom Luís I bridge.
Not long after our traverse, we tucked into a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and ordered up one of the famous Francesinha sandwiches to share. These sandwiches are a heart attack waiting to happen – stuffed with ham, sausage, and at least one other kind of meat, then wrapped in thick sandwich bread, covered in melted cheese, and soaked in sauce, this is not a sandwich to eat with your fingers.
Bart paired this masterpiece with a beer, and I opted for a glass of Port, kindly ignoring the owner’s advice that it would be too sweet with the meal. Muahahahaha.
Stuffed and satisfied, we continued along the banks of the Duomo, peeking into the many Port cellars lining the shores and debating whether we should do a tour.
^This photo has been my desktop background on my laptop for the past three years. I honestly can’t imagine ever changing it!
^Bart and I thought this sad cobblestone-repair attempt was hilarious.
When we reached one of the last cellars on the end, Ferreira, which boasted its status as the oldest Portuguese-owned cellar in all of Porto, we took it one step further and inched inside. When we saw that a cellar tour (complete with two samples) cost only six euros, we looked at each other wide-eyed and signed up for the next time slot available!
I was pretty close to heaven, let me tell you. Just look at this enormous barrel of Port!!!!!
As we walked (and I slightly stumbled) out of the cellar, we were greeted with more tempered sunshine and untempered beauty.
We made our way, slow and smiling, back up the shore and over the bridge once more.
The steep, steep slopes of the land on either side of the Duomo were treacherously steep and made for some very unique architecture.
There was a very funny quirk of the walking map I had, which was that it labeled many of the churches as tiny, bright blue little icons. When we approached the churches themselves, we found it was because they were covered in beautiful blue-and-white tiles.
Still, the map certainly exaggerated their electric blueness by quite a bit, thank goodness.
On the menu this night was a seafood rice. Bart had made the (genius) request for something non-seafood and was delivered a duck rice instead. How I wish I had done the same, because his dish was oh-so mouthwateringly tasty!!!!! But mine was yummy, too, haha.
The Dutch students were not with us anymore, so all of us were able to fit at one long table. There were two shy Brazilian girls who told us about being laughed at when they asked for directions to a toilet (probably like asking for the restroom vs. asking for “the loo”). There were two very rowdy French guys who got so drunk they started whistling at the (adorable) waiter when they wanted more wine to replace our empty bottle – I admonished them for that. There was a spunky Australian girl who educated me on some Australian lingo, and there was yet another drunk French guy who had a knack for flirtation.
In fact, this last man, whose name was either Émilien or Etienne, had been making eyes at me on my first day while I worked on my blog at one of the public computers. Every time he walked past me, he’d make intense, smiling eye-contact in a way that made me giggle uncontrollably. Finally, he gave up the charade and approached me. Here’s an excerpt from some writings I put down immediately after this occurred:
“I write to you from Porto, Portugal, and I must admit I am in a state of shock, so don’t be alarmed if my grammar is off a bit. I was just sitting at the computer in my hostel, minding my own business, when a rather swarthy Frenchman walked up out of the blue and started chatting me up. It started with the usual: where are you from, how long are you here, etc. etc., though the conversation was noticeably more intense than normal. Then he asked if I wanted to get a European passport. I was super confused. I thought he was maybe trying to do a black market trade deal or something! Of course I would love one though, so I said, “Aren´t they hard to get?” His response: “Yes, you have to get married.” To this, I laughed nervously, but he continued, “That’s why I came over here to talk to you.”
This continued on for a bit with my bafflement and his well-practiced attempts for my hand. Jeeze Louise. I don’t even know what just happened. (Don’t worry. I told him I was taken. He left shortly after, and he just walked by me batting his eyes at another girl. *sigh*)
Tehehe. Boy number 3, indeed.
I stayed up playing cards with Bart and the Brazilian girls until the wee hours before finally exchanging contact info, packing my things, and rolling into bed for a brief nap before my early morning flight.
Porto, you beautiful place, you, I’ll be back. Until then,
Obrigada e muitas felicidades/ thank you and best wishes!
I’m in love! I’m in love! And I don’t care who knows it!
I’m in love with a city, and her name is Lisbon. Gah. I can’t. I just can’t. Why did I stay for only a day?! It was love at first sight!
First of all, Lisbon is cheap. And I mean CHEEEEP cheap cheap. Known as the cheapest capital city in Europe. To get to the city center from the airport, most cities have metros or buses that cost between five and fifteen bucks. Lisbon’s metro to the city costs a mere 1.25 euros, which is less than $1.50. INSANE. I felt like I was sneaking onto the train for free or something. Once on the train, I became acutely aware of my out-of-placeness. Airport bus transfers are normally packed with tourists, but the metros and trains are stuffed with locals, and I observed our differences sheepishly. I was dressed in striped yoga leggings and a tank top with my ghastly green Geico sunglasses and a sweaty bun. In contrast, all the women around me had long, wavy, half-dyed-half-faded hair, always down to their back and never tied up. They were wearing sandals or running sneakers and flowy floral pants. Sunglasses were top-notch classiness, and the shoulder bags were prolific. The men were even more gorgeous, with equally flowy hair, but often tied up in man buns that, for once, did not bother me one bit. (;
Once we got closer to the city, a man stepped on the train and began playing the accordion. On his shoulder perched a tiny chihuahua, who clenched a little coin basket in his jaws. The man walked from the front of the train to the back, bending down for his pup to gather offerings, and then he got off at the next stop to get on a different train. So strange!
While planning out hostels for my trip, I tried to choose places close to public transportation and within walking distance of the city center. Last year, I went by the “cheapest as can be, please” policy, which resulted in a lot of horrible hostel stays. Portugal did not even have a “bad hostel” option, though. Every hostel seemed to have reviews claiming, “BEST HOSTEL I’VE EVER STAYED AT,” even though they were just as cheap as those bad hostels from the other cities! Man. Can’t complain about cheapness, right? Just check out my hostel’s drink/ snack menu:
One euro for sangria?! Unheard of! I was even offered a free welcome drink of Ginja, a Portuguese cherry liqueur, but as it was only eleven in the morning, I declined. (The man who checked me in was one of the gorgeous, man-bunned Portuguese variety, and he kept saying my name in that lovely accent. Gah.) I immediately changed into the most Portuguese outfit I could muster, “lost” my Geico sunglasses, and hit the streets to buy a new pair and begin exploration.
My hostel was tucked right into the middle of everything. Restaurants had camped their diners in the middle of the streets, and shops flanked the sides. The structure in the photo above is an elevator with a view…. How quirky!
Thank goodness I had on my new sunglasses, because I probably would have gotten stares for how far my eyes were bugging-out. Everywhere I looked was like something out of a calendar. All around me, rapid Portuguese was being exchanged in excited, friendly tones. It reminded me of Rome. (Except that in Rome, the general tone of conversation is much less friendly.)
The streets were all cobblestone. Cathedrals everywhere. Food (cheap, cheap, delicious food) on every corner. I took it all in (literally – I think I gained a few pounds that day, and the pastel de natas didn’t help).
The city was built into a giant sea-facing hillside, which meant that every turn on any street seemed to be met with breathtaking views of either the water or the endless clay roofs looming above. It also meant that half the streets were set at daunting inclines, and some of the streets were not streets at all, but rather snaking staircases! I was navigating via paper map, so as I worked my way from point A to B, I often found myself met with staircases where I expected to find alleyways.
More than once, this hilly city got me lost in the most wonderful way. It was one of the most surreal adventures of my life. Every scene was like a picture from some secret fairy tale I’d never read. I kept thinking, How did I not know this existed???
At the bottom of an exceptionally long “staircase street,” I sat to rest and was greeted by a stray. He was the sweetest thing, and he hung out with me as I tried to reorient myself, laughing internally with the other young woman doing the same thing just a few steps down.
I could tell I was deep into a residential neighborhood at this point by the lack of other paper map holders and the many white tank topped men, all of whom seemed to know my friend, the stray. Eventually, I did make it back out and back up to another hill and another breathtaking church.
More wanderings brought me to the entrance of Castelo de S. Jorge. A castle in the middle of the city? Sign me up! Sitting at the highest point of one of the hills, more views awaited me.
Oh, and yummy things.
It was so peaceful up there among the flowers, the ruins, and the sun.
(I felt really weird posing for this picture, but the lady just kept snapping away, so I tried to go for some glamorous, not-looking-at-the-camera poses. I think I still need to work on it. Hahahaha.)
I didn’t want to leave my perch on the castle walls, but I did, eventually, and I found my way to several small parks and shaded refuges spattered among the hot summer city.
When the sun finally began to descend below the buildings, I made my way back to my hotel for “Mama’s Dinner.” Remember how I said all these hostels had amazing reviews and amenities? Well, I chose this one because it was owned by two brothers, and every night, their actual mother cooks dinner for all of the hostel residents. Whaaaaat???
Dinner consisted of a seafood pasta with salad on the side. I’ve never had a pasta that tasted so much like the sea. I also ended up sitting with a couple of friends who turned out to be from Seattle! What a small world! The dude even worked at Amazon, hahaha. When they went to get seconds, they told me the pasta was in the largest pot they’d ever seen – more like a cauldron than a pot.
Dessert was pears and cream. Yummy yum yum. Oh, and there was endless white wine, too! I think we were supposed to get a pour of the local ginja liqueur, but either I didn’t stick around long enough or they forgot. In any case, we ended the dinner with a toast to Mama, given each evening by someone who has been staying in the hostel for some time and is staying for their last night. So sweet.
In the morning, I popped out to wander these lovely streets one last time.
Then I stocked up on pastel de natas and made my way to the airport, sad to leave, but excited to return one day.
It was a bit silly to fly to Porto, as it would have been an easy four hour train ride, but I’m glad I did, for the views from the air were stellar.
More Portugal adventures to come. Until then,
Obrigada e muitas felicidades/ thank you and best wishes!
Okay. I assume you either opened your eyes again or ignored my first command. I realized I need to tell you what to imagine when you close your eyes for this to work.
I want you to go all the way back to 2015. What were you doing four years ago? Personally, I was living it up in Europe for the first time, sparking this crazy passion for seeing, exploring, and eating my way through foreign places.
But there was one trip I never blogged: Paris in early November. Jackson and I flew from Trondheim and Copenhagen, respectively, to meet up in this ancient city.
We honestly didn’t even arrive that late, but I remember it was super dark, and I still hadn’t figured out how to expertly navigate foreign public transportation, so we kind of just wandered around a bit and retired pretty early to our hostel.
In the morning, on our walk to the Louvre, we passed a little boulangerie, and rather than get a little pastry or croissant, like normal people with self control, we got an entire loaf of chocolate chip bread. It was soooo delightful.
We had some other activities on the itinerary, but that was all derailed when we spent close to nine hours in the Louvre…
I am a museum fiend, but this took the cake. We even left two wings untouched. It was honestly dangerous. I could have gotten lost in there.
My favorite hallway was the one lined with dozens of MASSIVE Delacroix paintings. He was already my favorite painter, but seeing his work in real life brought such a new dynamic to my appreciation of his art. When you study art in school, it’s really hard to put the works into context. You can’t tell that some of the paintings are twenty feet tall, and others, like the Mona Lisa, are 8″ x 10″!
Don’t be fooled by the people-less picture of our dear friend. We had to wait several minutes to get to the front of the corral surrounding this famous lady.
Note to anyone looking for a way into my heart: I love emeralds.
We finally got out of there just as the sun was setting. Ha! As we pondered dinner, a Jamaican man quickly approached me with a set of string and asked me to give him his finger. Sketchy sounding, I know. But I was young and naïve. I was well aware that I should stay away from people aggressively selling things to passersby, but somehow, in that split second, I thought the guy was going to show me a magic trick. I gave him my finger, and he immediately began weaving a friendship bracelet on the spot, with my finger as the anchor.
I realized my mistake quickly enough, but it was too late anyway, and I reasoned that it was kind of a cool souvenir. I figured I’d give the guy a couple euros. Out of nowhere, another guy showed up and grabbed Jackson’s finger without asking to create a second bracelet. Oops. The guys were pretty funny though, asking if we could get Bill Gates to send some money to Jamaica from Seattle. In the end, they asked for TEN EUROS EACH, which was out of the question. Jackson forked over about eight euros total in the form of 50 Norwegian crowns, and then we finally got some delicious baguettes for dinner.
We tried to sprint to the Eiffel Tower to catch some sunset action, but it wasn’t meant to be. Paris is large, yo. When we surfaced from the metro, it was already pitch black, so we gave up and continued in a less-hurried fashion. When we were almost there, we came across a line that wound around the block. I’m not sure why we decided to stick around, but we just got in line, too. Turned out it was for a travelling American Gospel choir, and the show was packed. Parisians like Gospel music, I guess? We were let in at the last second so that we could stand on the outside edges of the cathedral, and we were singing along the whole show!
A very interesting experience, indeed, and we topped it off with a visit to the Eiffel Tower in the dark.
Sunday was dedicated to a visit to Versailles.
The hallways, ceilings, and gold were dazzling, especially the Hall of Mirrors. (I was a bit confused about the mirror quality until I remembered these mirrors were over three hundred years old.)
But I think the gardens were my favorite part. I love a good French garden.
We were more responsible with our time that day, so we had plenty of sunlight left to return to Paris and enjoy the Seine.
We spent the afternoon visiting my favorite museum in the city: Musee d’Orsay.
Just the museum building itself is magnificent, tucked into an old trains station, but I love, love, loooooove all the Impressionism.
All of my favorite artists are showcased here.
We had a yummy, warm ham and cheese crepe for dinner, and then we headed back to the Eiffel Tower for some (less colorful) sunset shots.
DID YOU KNOW IT SPARKLES?!?!?
SUCH MAGIC.
We hung out for quite a while, and we were super tempted to buy a picnic for an hour. (There were ladies spread out across the lawn with fully-stocked picnic baskets and blankets for rent. How brilliant is that?)
On Monday morning, we headed straight for the Notre Dame Cathedral.
So magical and cavernous. I could sit inside any of these magnificent fortresses all day long staring up at the ceiling. The cathedral was struck by a horrific fire this past April, and the main ceiling came crashing down. Restorations are underway and completion is estimated for 2024, but we will see.
When we emerged back into the sun, we wandered the city and walked along the Seine.
Oh, and then we popped back over to the Eiffel Tower again, because I’m ridiculous.
A lovely first visit to Paris, indeed. I can’t wait to go back now that my French is passable. (:
Okay. So, understandably, after two days of go-go-going right after three days of noisy, sweaty sleep and that long, jet-laggy flight, I was pretty exhausted come my fourth day in this British capital city. And the only thing I had planned was a show on the West End in the evening. So, I did what any sensible person would do, and I SLEPT IN.
I slept in real good. I think I got something like thirteen hours of sleep. I guess it takes three nights to acclimate to an uncomfortable sleeping environment and to become so tired that the environment just seems to matter a little less. I only barely woke up when the custodian came in to mop the floors and change the bedsheets of those tenants who had checked out at eleven. And then I fell back asleep again.
And even when I woke up enough to be on my phone, I still didn’t get out of bed. That didn’t happen until two in the afternoon.
The reason I finally pulled myself out of bed was because I was almost out of clean underwear and was entirely out of clean clothes, which meant I really needed to do laundry. So, I hauled myself out of bed, gathered my things, and ran down to the laundry room, hoping desperately the one washing machine would be empty for me.
I sunk in utter defeat when I saw an “OUT OF ORDER” sign posted to the washer.
Remember when I said I thought about doing laundry earlier in the week and regrettably decided to do it later? That decision was coming back to haunt me.
Out of options and in need of underwear, I asked the front desk when the machine might be fixed. They didn’t have a real answer to give, but suggested I go over to their other hostel a few blocks away. So I put a dress on, slipped on my shower flip flops, and headed out into the hot, sunny spring day with my laundry. At the other hostel, though, it was more expensive to use the machines, and there was no sign posted about how long the wash and dry cycles were. I also hadn’t eaten anything yet, so I was starving, and since I wasn’t a guest at this hostel, I would need to be buzzed into the laundry area every time I left and returned.
I hemmed and hawed for several minutes, trying to decide if this was really the way I wanted to spend my Thursday, and in the end, I decided it was not. I would wear a used shirt or two and do my laundry in Scotland the next day. Nothing wrong with that. I still had two pairs of clean underwear, after all.
So, I was back to square one at my hostel, in a dress I wore a few days ago, wearing already-used socks, and, as my sister likes to say, I was free-boobin’ it.
I was feeling pretty sunny.
My first order of business was breakfast/lunch/early dinner at an Indian restaurant I’d been eyeing near my hostel. It was already late enough that I had to order off the ‘early dinner special’ menu instead of the ‘lunch special’ menu. I ordered chicken tikka masala, chicken curry, and naan. All was delicious, including my book. Seriously. If you haven’t read Eleanor & Park, do it. I’ve waited six years to read it, and honestly, I’m happy I did, because it resonated with me in ways it wouldn’t have six, or even two, years ago. But still, you should read it. It was worth the wait.
After brulinner™, I remembered I’d never been to the Tate Modern, so that’s where I went! My college roomie spent a lot of time at the Tate when she did a mini art-focused study trip in London in 2015, so I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I had the whole top deck of my double decker to myself on the way there. (I like to take the bus even when the underground is faster, as long as I’m not in a rush, just to get the views.)
The main photo for this post is from this bus ride. I don’t think you’d ever see me smile that wide on the Underground!
When we passed by an ambulance, I imagined it was being driven by the London ambulance driver from a book I read recently; his name was Ambulance Sam.
When I was dropped off on the other side of the Thames, I walked along the water for a little while, enjoying the sun and the views.
And then I made it to the Tate!
Housed in a very industrial building, this museum was big into accessibility. There was an entire exhibit focused on how to get the most out of your visit. It asked visitors to pay attention to colors, shapes, and feelings, and to take their time.
Personally, I was trying to embody the practice of ‘slow looking.’ If you’ve ever been to a museum with me, you know I do this already, but I’ve been trying to do so even more thoughtfully.
This kid was looking real slow at this piece:
He was straight up mesmerized. Hahaha.
And there were pretty views!
The Tate Modern is actually split up into two wings. I was in the side that had four floors, but the other side has ten floors with a viewing platform at the top. I never made it over to that side, but the views were just peachy looking out at the Thames.This was supposed to be my last exhibit:
But then I spotted a bronze cast of Little Dancer by Degas and I ended up in the contemporary exhibit for another ten minutes.
I even saw a different version of this exact painting just the day before in Oxford! That was fun:
And then I finally ran out. I was a bit rushed to get all the way across town.
Whyyyy? Because I had tickets to a show! Come From Away! I’ve been wanting to see this show for a while, but I haven’t gotten the chance. I did end up being a little bit late, unfortunately. I walked in right as the first song was about to start, but they made me wait until the song was over to go inside.
LOVED THE SHOW, though. I only knew a very little about it, so I actually thought it was about a plane crash. In reality, it was about the immediate aftermath of 9/11 and the grounding of planes resulting in 31 planes having a forced landing in Newfoundland, Canada. It was jarring, touching, horrifying, nostalgic, and emotional. I cried and laughed a lot.
Afterward, I was understandably tired, but I also hadn’t really spent any time in the nightlife of London, and I was right in my favorite night spot: the West End, Chinatown, and the Piccadilly Circus. It’s just a fun, lively area to walk around, so I did just that.
And then I slept.I had an early morning, though! I recommend taking the train to Edinburgh from London if you can, but they were too expensive by the time I was looking, so I decided to fly. I had to catch a bus at six in the morning to take me to the airport, and it frustratingly sat for twenty minutes at its second stop before continuing on. But whatevs.
I was pretty nasty in another second-day outfit and my hair was doing some cray cray business, but I got the window seat in a row all to myself, so I was happy on the inside!
The cherry blossoms were blooming here, too, but all the ones I could see in Edinburgh were a beautiful, rich rosy pink, as opposed to the very light baby pink of the cherry blossoms in New York or the nearly white blossoms in Seattle. I think I like this rich pink color the best.
We drove past some fancy high schools on the way into town.
I dropped by my hostel to drop my stuff off, but check-in wasn’t allowed until two, and it was only eleven, so I couldn’t settle in at all. I plopped down on a couch in the lobby to determine my plan of attack on my only real day in the city when an Indian girl walked up and asked if I wanted to join her and some others for brunch. Honestly, I had just finished forming my plan for the day, and it had not included brunch with a bunch of strangers, but that’s just what happens when you’re travelling sometimes! So, off we went. It’s killing me that I can’t remember her name exactly because I only heard her say it twice, but I *believe* it was Shrivanka. I really hope I’m not completely off. Maybe I will call her “S” so that I do not risk calling her the wrong name for an entire blog post.
S grew up in the States and was working in the UK. She was just in Edinburgh for the Easter weekend. She went on to explain that our brunch was part of a Couchsurfing meet-up. Couchsurfing is an online community of travelers looking to connect with locals and other travelers while they go around a city or an area. One main function of the site is to connect travelers with locals who are willing to host people for free, in whatever accommodations they have, which may sometimes mean that what is offered is an air mattress or a couch. Hence the name. What I didn’t know is that the site also offers a platform for people to meet up for hang-outs, day trips, and full on adventures with other lonely nomads looking to make some friends along the way. We met up with a boy from South Africa living in the UK and a boy from India who was just visiting Scotland.
I ate French toast with bananas and whipped cream, and I shared a pot of tea with the South African boy. All yummy, and we had some good chit chat about crazy travel stories from our past.
After brunch, I was planning on resuming my original day’s plan, but the group was up for adventuring, minus the South African boy who had to meet up with his sister, so off we went in search of a museum!
For some reason, a meal delivery service was giving out free Burger King, so we celebrated the weather with some free fries.
The weather was so gorgeous that we couldn’t stay away from the wide city park sitting under the impressive shadow of Edinburgh Castle. It seemed the whole town was in that park just soaking up the rays.
Can’t blame them! I was both mesmerized and puzzled by this sad elephant sculpture. He was just so sad…
This cute little house was called Aunt Lizzie’s, and S made me take a picture in front of the welcome sign. I didn’t get a copy from her though! Drat.
Then up to the Scottish National Gallery!
This quaint little museum only has a few wide open rooms, but I think that makes it easier to enjoy looking at the whole collection without feeling rushed or pressured. We wandered slowly and were able to see the whole thing in a little over an hour. If you just walked normal speed through the rooms, you could probably do the stroll in under ten minutes. That is not true of the Louvre, that’s for sure!
^This is a painting of Edinburgh from back in the day.
The bottom floor contained a lot of landscapes and some portraits.
I really like picking out places I recognize, and Venice is always one of the easiest to spot (and one of the most popular to paint)!
I loved the colorful walls.The second floor was even smaller than the first, and it contained a few fun Impressionist works, so I liked it up there.
Van Gogh, Gauguin, Degas, you name it!
Here are a couple other works and scenes I really enjoyed:
After this cultural excursion, I wanted to go to the botanical gardens, but S needed to charge her phone and drop some things back at the hostel, so we said our goodbyes to our other Couchsurfing buddy and weaved our way back to the hostel.
On our way back, we walked by so many wedding parties posing for pictures!
I didn’t need to charge my phone, so I went on an extra trip to St. Mary’s Cathedral which was just down the street from our hostel. It was nice to have such a tall beacon to help me find my way back to my hostel during my stay.
When I got back to my hostel to check in, I was amused to see that the rooms had the infamous triple stack bunk beds.
Sometimes, hostels will build these into the wall, and those are usually both sturdier and roomier, but these were like little IKEA triple bunks, and there wasn’t even room for me to sit up if I chose either the bottom or middle! Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking straight when I picked my bunk, so I chose the middle spot…. Seriously, what was I thinking? I think my idea was that I didn’t want to wake the people beneath me by climbing out of the top bunk in the early morning, but I really flubbed there. If you ever find yourself faced with this choice, take the top bunk so you can sit up and breathe! Luckily, the beds were surprisingly comfy for sleeping.
In the end, S decided to go shopping instead of joining me in the gardens, but that was fine. We wished each other well and set off on our own!
On my way to the gardens, though, I ended up on a street lined with secondhand clothing shops, and I couldn’t resist nipping into them! But all is well. I ended up only buying one really cozy striped sweater dress for a whopping FOUR POUNDS, which is like buying a $5 dress plus tax! Uh… Score! (This would come to seem an even better purchase by the next day. You’ll see why later.)
I had a little trouble finding the gardens because I was working off a paper map, and the streets were winding and hilly, but eventually, I made it!
Free entry, and they let me in without question even though it was 45 minutes to close. That’s two points to Edinburgh, zero to Oxford.
Everything was so pretty! These gardens were huge and sprawling, so I certainly did not have time to see the whole thing. I decided to head over to a fun looking area with lots of little paths and water features, and I did not regret this decision. There was even another wedding!
I really wanted to sneak into the wedding. Everyone was beautifully dressed to the nines, and some of the ladies were even wearing fancy hats and fascinators! Gah! They shocked me about ten minutes later by parading out of the gardens, led by a blaring bagpipe. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a grand exit with my own eyes. There was one moment where one of the ladies kept yelling, “YAAAAASSS QUEEEEN!” But besides that, it was all class.
I was pretty sure we would be kicked out soon, so I decided to just dawdle around this pretty area.
I mean, really. You can’t get much better than this! After another little while, just as I’d predicted, the “you’re kicked out” routine started up. At the Huntington Gardens in LA, the groundskeeper quietly drives around on his golf cart and tells people to pack up or hop on. In Florence, a blaring, automated, no-nonsense woman announces repeatedly that THE GARDENS ARE NOW CLOSED; PLEASE PROCEED TO THE NEAREST EXIT. Here, though, a man with the lungs of a horn player just walked around on foot yelling, “GAAARDEEENSSSSS CLOOOOOOSED,” at the top of his voice, with no aid of loudspeaker or microphone. After a few minutes, another woman started to ring what sounded like a dinner bell to help him out. It was all pretty adorable.
Before I’d left the downtown area, I had stopped at the grocery store for some picnic dinner supplies. Since I didn’t have time to eat at the gardens, I walked along a little creek that led back to town and found a spot on a log to eat my dinner snack.
I also worked on a New York blog while I was sitting there with the calm trickling of the water next to me. Ha! Gosh it’s so easy to get behind on these things. Did you know it takes me about 4-8 hours to do a blog? Never less than four, but often more than eight if I’m having technical difficulties with picture uploads. It really is a time suck, so that’s why I get behind sometimes. Although, I must say, it would be actually impossible to blog about a place while simultaneously experiencing that place. Sometimes I get so proud about posting a blog the day after I leave a city, and then my mom will complain that I’m behind! Does she think I’m Hermione or something??? Hard to say.
I had a very pleasant walk back though town again, but once the sun went down, it cooled off really quickly, so I was all wrapped up on my over shirt.
Yes yes. A lovely day indeed, even if it didn’t go quite as planned. It’s hard not to go with the flow when the weather is so nice. Back at the hostel, my mission was to do some laundry, and then…. Guess what?! The hostel had two washing machines, and one was out of order, so they couldn’t let guests do laundry or they wouldn’t be able to wash all the linens and things that are necessary for turning the beds around!!! This meant I was finally out of clean undies, but it also meant I was grateful that I at least had a brand new, clean outfit to wear the next day. Just to be sure though, I researched to be absolutely, one hundred percent positive that I could do my laundry the next evening. It was either that or another shopping trip. So thank goodness for my next hostel. More to come on that later, though.
Slàinte mhath/ best wishes,
-Lizzy-wa
PS – You’ll never guess how to pronounce that first word in my Scottish well-wishing. There’s a story to come for that!
Well then. After that long day on a bus, running around the country, you’d think I would take it easy the next day, right? For some reason, no. I booked my busy London days back-to-back. For my Thursday, I would spend the day in Oxford! I have been trying to get over to explore this old college town since I visited that other one a few years back, but I just haven’t found the time. I even bought tickets back in January, but then I got stuck in Finland. So here I am! Finally fulfilling that little dream.
On the train ride over to Oxford, ladies came down the aisle with a “trolley,” and I felt like I was in Harry Potter. Little did I know that the HP movie franchise took a lot of inspiration (and filming locations!) from this college town, so I would be hearing a lot of HP-related stories throughout the day.
I wanted to start my day with a walking tour, but I arrived in the city just shy of 9:30, and the first tour wasn’t offered until eleven, so I wandered a bit. There was plenty of green and pretty sandstone buildings, so I was not lacking in scenery.
I also kept my eye open for lunch or tea spots. Cheap afternoon tea seemed to be quite the thing here, and I made note of several restaurants to wind my way back to after the conclusion of the tour. Somehow, I managed to walk much of the town in my hour and a half of freedom. I wandered past Town Hall, the main shopping street, and Christ Church College, and I peeked my head into a couple college courtyards.
I finished my time up in the covered market and eyeballed a few yummy looking snacks while simultaneously restraining from dress (or cake) shopping.
Finally, it was time for the tour. I was actually just slightly late, so I missed the part where they divide up all the tourists into groups and assign guides. I slipped into a group with a promising-looking guide and pretended I’d been there all along. Our guide was Canadian, but he was just finishing up his PhD at Oxford, so I suppose he would be qualified for tour-giving.
At one point, our guide brought us over to the Divinity School. Apparently, many scenes from the Harry Potter movies were filmed here, including the scene in the first movie where Harry is in the infirmary.
Then we came to one of the most famous buildings in Oxford, the Radcliffe Camera. It was once a library, but now it is just a very beautiful study area. Unfortunately, only students are allowed, so we had to admire from the outside.
There were also a lot of other pretty surrounding buildings.
We were told many stories about famous students and professors, including C.S. Lewis, the author of the Chronicles of Narnia. He was a professor here and was supposedly inspired to create Aslan and Mr. Tumnus based on the emblems on a particular door in the city.
We also peeked into a few colleges…
And enjoyed the green, green grass, all perfectly manicured, surrounding the various colleges.
We ended our tour in the Christ Church meadow with a grisly story of a man burning his own hand off before being burned at the stake. ‘Twas very dramatic.
And then we were released! I quickly marched my way back to the University Church to climb the bell tower and a get a lovely topside view of the Radcliffe Camera. I also like climbing towers in these silly university towns because you can see into the college courtyards without paying to enter! Muahahahaha.
I spent quite a long time up there, as I’m sure you can imagine, but my stomach finally got the better of me, and I headed down the stairs and back to the covered market for a bite of lunch. I got a traditional pasty. Not the most appetizing name, but it was quite delicious. Very English.
Then I went back to wandering for a bit, through some bookstores and church gardens…
But my end game was the Ashmolean Museum! This is Oxford’s free museum housing several different collections of art and ancient artifacts.
I really could have spent all day here, but I wanted to try to make it back to the botanical gardens before closing time, so I chose my wanderings carefully.
They had a little bit of everything here: treasure, Stradivarius string instruments, mummies, you name it. I must say though….. It always makes me a bit sad when I see a Stradivarius in a museum (and this happens fairly often). I mean…. I understand that these are some of the most magnificent, rare, and wonderful musical instruments every created, but if they are sitting behind a glass box in a museum, then what makes them any different from any other pretty instrument??? They aren’t famous because of their looks; they’re famous because of their sound, and we can’t hear that sound unless someone is playing them! I don’t know the best way to strike a balance between protecting these instruments for the future while also enjoying the very reason we know their names, but I feel like sticking them in temperature-controlled boxes is not the best solution.
And don’t even get me started on mummies…. I honestly can’t hardly stand to be in the same room as a mummy these days. Again, I understand that they are amazing pieces of history and that we can and have learned a lot from them and yadayadayada, but these were actual people who were literally buried or entombed, ideally for all eternity, after death, only to be unearthed, uncovered, unwound, and put on display for thousands and millions of people who only view them as interesting old objects. Eck. It makes my skin crawl.
Maybe this is why the art is always my favorite part of a museum…. The art is often some of the only things on display that were actually created TO BE DISPLAYED. And they’re preeeeetty…..
Not sure why, but I was really into close-ups on this day. This one made me feel whimsical and romantic:
This one made me wish I could jump through the picture frame Blue’s Clues style and hang out in that cafe for the rest of the day:
I thought this one was cute and funny – it’s a commentary on all the boring in-between moments of married life, and it’s a self-portrait of the artist and his wife:
The landscapes on display in this collection were especially pretty. Usually, I find a couple that I like, but so many of these drew me in to stare at the endless supply of detail.
So, a lovely visit to the Ashmolean, and since I didn’t get to see everything, that means I have a great excuse to make another visit in the future! But for the time being, my mission was to see some pretty plants.
I made it all the way across town again, back to where the gardens were, only to find a very unwelcoming sign telling me that the last entrance had already occurred and the gardens were closed for the evening. This was infuriating for two reasons: firstly, I had just fast-walked for nearly half an hour to get there, and secondly, the gardens posted that last entrance was 45 minutes before five, and I arrived at 4:14. I was not pleased. And I was sweaty. And I was quite tired.
But, I consoled myself by observing that the gardens were quite small, and instead, I wandered over and enjoyed some garden and water views across the street for free. Ha! Oxford, like Cambridge, also offers punting excursions around the shallow river. So many similarities between these two, but I’m sure you could say the same about most rivals.
And then, it was tea time!
Yummy yummy yummy yummy yummy. I sat for about an hour and edited an essay for my sister while my phone charged up, and when I got up to leave at six, the waiter assured me that I could stay past closing. “No rush!” he said with a smile. My kinda waiter.
Next, I walked the grounds of Oxford Castle for a bit. It was quite a cozy spot; the walls shut off all the noise from the outside streets, and there was a café or two tucked inside that elicited happy chatter and the clinking of glasses. It was quite a lovely way to wind down my evening.
Also, I finally managed to find the entrance to the public library! I’d passed by in the morning, but I was unable to find a way inside. I had just enough time to explore a bit before they closed.
And then I headed back over to Christ Church College for their Maundy Thursday service! I had some lucky timing to be able to sit in on this service that takes place the Thursday before Easter. Only once a year, and there I was. I peeked into a couple alcoves on my way in, delighted at my chance to see a bit of the college for free (there is normally an entrance fee of several pounds during the day), and I was really excited for the service.
There was no photography or videography allowed during the service, but the boys choir sang beautifully, and it was wonderful to be a part of this. As each person entered to find a seat, the usher woman asked kindly if they would like their feet washed as part of the Maundy Thursday ceremony, and it was fun to see all of the stuttering responses.
I made sure to sit on the end in case I needed to leave early to catch my train, and in the end, I did have to slip out. I walked through the silent, dark courtyard and was surprised to find myself trapped for a bit. I began to panic at all the locked doors when I found a porter who unlocked one to let me out. Phew!
Oh, shortly after this, a British boy with a group of friends said, “Hello, how are you doing?” and I giggled so awkwardly that his whole group of friends joined in on the laughter as I continued past without properly responding. I think I’ve forgotten how to talk to boys….
Then back through the town once more, onto my train, and back to London. A very successful day in Oxford! It felt a little rushed, but I took many pleasant memories with me. I also noticed there was a lot less name dropping here as compared to Cambridge, and I wonder if that is because I just had less showy guides here or if it is because Cambridge churned out more recognizable names? Hard to say.
I will say this, though: I think I like Cambridge better. Tehehehe.
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