from a little internet cafe, in downtown Vienna...
On Friday, Sarah and I made our train journey from our cozy hostel in Budapest to Bratislava, Slovakia. After a bit of a panic in the somewhat sketchy Slovakian station (I had no idea that one needed to use a "+" sign when texting in Europe, and so my messages were not working) we got in touch with our couch surfing host, Tyna, and were off to navigate another public transportation system...
A couple of months ago, while chatting with a colleague about my upcoming travel plans, I was warned, "Just don't watch the movie Hostel before you go." My enjoyment of horror films ceased somewhere around my 18th birthday, and so this wasn't too hard to avoid, however; in researching potential hostels in Bratislava, I learned that this 2005 horror film had actually been filmed there. My decision to Couch Surf (www.couchsurfing.org) in Bratislava was confirmed when I learned that the most appealing hostel I had found online actually had a room decorated based on the set from this movie. So ended my hostel search. And, in hindsight, I´m thrilled that this was the case, as Sarah and I had the pleasure of spending two nights with Tyna, our incredibly generous couch surfing host. I had couch surfed in Scandinavia in April 2009, and as soon as Tyna met us at our tram stop, I was reminded as to why this form of travelling resonates with me on such a deep level. Tyna was such a gracious and warm host, spoiling us, buying us Slovakian treats, and opening up her apartment with such trust and generosity. There are few better ways to meet fabulous people and learn about the world, truly.
The three of us cooked dinner together on Friday night, and on Saturday morning, Sarah and I headed into the City Centre to wander a bit before Tyna met us for lunch. The streets were quiet on Saturday morning (Tyna explained that everyone would still be in bed from partying the night before), and the main downtown core of the city is quite small, making it easy to see a large amount of this historical area in very little time. Bratislava is an interesting study in architecture, with old cobblestone streets and churches dating back centuries, juxtaposed with apartment buildings and government buildings built during the communist regime - stark, with many tributes to modernist ideals (for example, a restaurant that looks like a UFO, high up and overlooking the Danube, built in 1972).
Lunch was at a traditional Slovakian pub, where I ate bryndza (sheep cheese) dumplings with bacon, to the sounds of the Tragically Hip playing in the background. Traditional Slovakian food contains large amounts of meat fat; Tyna explained that in the past, foods that were inexpensive but that would be heavy and filling were essential. She also noted that vegetarian meals often come with ham or bacon, "because we don´t really see those as real meat". :) It was incredible to hear Tyna's stories of growing up under the communist regime. The Austrian border is only a few kms away from Bratislava, and she described the barbed wire fences that ran along the entire border. She also described the very first time her family made a trip to Austria after communism had fell - I got goosebumps as she described being able to cross the border for the first time, without the threat of being shot. We spent Saturday afternoon at a castle in nearby Devin, at a castle founded in the 8th century: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devín_Castle, and also saw the Bratislava castle (a sight with much history, but that has also seen much destruction over the years - the most recent version of the castle was rebuilt in 1953).
After a lazy morning yesterday hanging out with Tyna's, we had a quick train ride to Vienna (something I certainly didn't know about European geography prior to this trip, is that Vienna and Bratislava are 65km apart), and were met at the train station by our couch surfing host, Michaela. Also lovely, warm and generous, I imagine that Michaela will be a kindred-spirit and I am excited to be able to get to know her over these next few days. She has a beautiful and artsy apartment filled with books, plants, and a great energy. We enjoyed coffee and cake last night on the town together, as is the Viennese custom, and then Sarah and I went to the Haus der Musik: http://www.hausdermusik.com/en/2.htm - the perfect museum to wander for two music geeks like us.
This morning, a trip to the gorgeous main cemetery in the pouring rain led us to the gravestones of Beethoven, Schubert, Strauss, Wolf, and Brahms, as well as an honourary grave for Mozart (who lies in a mass grave). We imagined that broody Beethoven would have been pleased with the stormy and cold weather that chilled us as we stood in silence at his grave. My favourite tombstone was that of Hugo Wolf, appearing to be a tribute to the pleasures of life rather than the suffering in death, it featured a man and a woman, wrapped in one another's embrace.
Sarah leaves bright and early tomorrow morning (in fact, too early for it to even be bright yet) and I will be in Vienna for a few more days still. Nervous to set out on my own, but also excited, I plan to see lots of art while I'm here (specifically the permanent Klimpt collection), and soak in all of the history on these streets...
With love
xo
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
a bear named Chauncey
On my very last day of work before heading to Europe, at the end of a singing group that I run for older adults, a most gentle and thoughtful member of my group threw a little package my way. Inside, was a little knit pink bear: "I made this yesterday - it´s for your trip". I was incredibly moved by this woman´s generosity, and I knew immediately that I would absolutely need to leave room in my pack for little Chauncey (what better name for a pink bear?) - such a wonderful reminder of the comforts of home!
While I have access to free internet at this hostel (only for a few more hours), I thought I would share a few photos. I am having technical difficulties with arranging them in chronological order, but I know you are all exceedingly smart people. In the pictures that follow, you will have a brief introduction to Chauncey, as well as to a few highlights of Eastern Europe thus far...Enjoy! xo
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| Chaucey dons his backpack in preparation for a long train ride |
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| Fisherman´s Bastion, Budapest |
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| The Blue Danube, Hungary |
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| "It´s like licking the underside of a car", Marianské Lazné, CZ |
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| Cesky Krumlov, where every photo could be a postcard! |
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| Prague State Opera |
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| Cabbage and dumplings, Prague |
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| Chauncey, me, and the Charles Street bridge, Prague |
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| Prague from above! |
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| A Hamlet inspired moment in Kutna Hora, CZ |
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| Mineral baths at dusk, Budapest |
Thursday, August 26, 2010
moment by moment (and...a soak in, rather than a drink of, healing waters!)
Budapest is a grand place - stately architecture, towering old buildings and castles tell of a time when this was a very powerful city indeed. The Danube river divides the city into "Buda" and "Pest", and the Buda castle "complex" sits on top of a hill in Buda, overlooking the river. At night, this is lit up, and during the day, the view from this hill offers a picturesque view of much of the city and the (somewhat) blue Danube. The drivers here are aggressive - much more so than in other European cities I have traveled in - and life as a pedestrian involves quite a cacophony of horns and the necessity to watch where one is going with extreme caution. Hungarian, similar to Czech, is a language that is foreign to anything that has rolled off of this tongue over the years. Sarah and I noted, as we traveled through Austria for a few hours by train 3 days ago, how much like "home" German sounded, in comparison to these other languages! Surprising to me has been the cost of basic necessities. Unlike many Eastern European cities, this is not a "cheap" place for a Westerner to travel, and yet, the average salary of a Hungarian worker is a small fraction of the norm in North America. As a result, poverty is all too prevalent, and the city also looks tired and worn in places.
Yesterday, most of the day was spent away from the grandeur of Budapest, with our dear friends Monica, Gabor, Sylvia, and Tobi. Monica and Gabor certainly inspire me in many ways, and I love the fact that at age 1 and 5, their children are already seasoned European travelers! We spent the morning with them at a "pioneer village" in the nearby town of Szentendre, and then visited a hilltop castle in Visegrád, which featured an absolutely glorious view of the Danube. Mostly, it was wonderful to look at the scenery through the eyes of a 5 year old, and to spend quality time with these folks at a slower pace.
Sarah and I ventured to "Castle Hill" this morning, wandering the grounds of the Royal Palace and the Fisherman´s Bastion. My favourite tidbit of history from the day was one that I learned inside of St. Matthias Church, also atop Castle Hill. On top of one altar was a Virgin Mary figurehead, wearing a crown. Turns out that during the 11th century King István lost his only son, the prince, and so was left without an heir to the throne. So, logically, he decided to leave his country to the Virgin Mary...
We had walked to Castle Hill, but, as we had plans to meet Monica for lunch at 2pm, we decided to grab a bus to return to the Pest side of the city. Assuming that the 16A bus took essentially the same route as the 16, Sarah and I boarded with little time to spare. Good news - I was successful in getting my ticket stamped correctly this time around, AND, Monica was patient in waiting for us as we realized we were definitely on the wrong bus...
I had my first real cry today since leaving home. After lunch, Sarah left to return to the hostel in a puddle of allergies, I said a teary "See you in November" to Monica and Sylvia, and suddenly I was on my own in the streets of downtown Budapest. The tears weren´t about that moment itself (in fact, I felt excited for the chance to wander on my own for a bit), but rather, I think, the reality that I will be saying "See you in November" to Sarah on Tuesday, and the solo part of this trip will begin. A big part of my learning these days (travelling, and in general) is around staying present in each moment. Trying to live all 3 months of this trip at once is at times empowering and exciting, and at others daunting and overwhelming; at all times, however, my incessant need to think about all 3 months all at once takes me out of my present moment and into my head. I am learning to stay present, with each breath, each beautiful scene, each moment...
...Today, this meant 5 hours before sunset, all to myself, in Budapest. I knew that I wanted to see the opera house, Hero´s Square, and actually soak in a mineral bath this time around, rather than just drinking one. So, I set off. It was a beautiful 1 1/2 hour walk through the streets, with many stops for photos, and some time spent with my journal on the steps of the opera house...and my soak in the mineral waters of Budapest was glorious!!! Budapest is famous for its thermal baths, as the city lies on top of many mineral springs. This evening, the location I went to had indoor pools which were already closed, but 3 outdoor pools which were open until 9. After the long walk, the soak in the hot water as the sunset, in a courtyard of a beautiful old building, was absolutely perfect.
I was proud of myself for figuring out the wacky lockers controlled by plastic wristbands (very space age - I asked for a locker, and was handed a cheap looking blue wrist band), and even more proud of myself for taking the subway back to the hostel at dusk. I hadn´t yet been on the subway here, and the trip involved changing lines. I noticed my tendency to stay comfortable ("I could just walk back...sure, it will take over an hour and I just soaked in a glorious hot thermal bath, but then I can follow the map and be absolutely clear as to where I am at all times), and decided, "Screw it. You have everything you need to figure out the Hungarian subway system!" Totally did it.
If I live each day as it is, one moment at a time, I can totally do this travelling thing. I´ve noticed that when I am around other solo travelers, I feel empowered and inspired. When I´m around people who are less inclined (as one fellow hosteler said to me last night, "3 months??? I could never be away from home for that long!!"), my seeds of doubt become closer to the surface. For tonight, I am focusing on staying present in each moment, and in who I know I am.
I had my first real cry today since leaving home. After lunch, Sarah left to return to the hostel in a puddle of allergies, I said a teary "See you in November" to Monica and Sylvia, and suddenly I was on my own in the streets of downtown Budapest. The tears weren´t about that moment itself (in fact, I felt excited for the chance to wander on my own for a bit), but rather, I think, the reality that I will be saying "See you in November" to Sarah on Tuesday, and the solo part of this trip will begin. A big part of my learning these days (travelling, and in general) is around staying present in each moment. Trying to live all 3 months of this trip at once is at times empowering and exciting, and at others daunting and overwhelming; at all times, however, my incessant need to think about all 3 months all at once takes me out of my present moment and into my head. I am learning to stay present, with each breath, each beautiful scene, each moment...
...Today, this meant 5 hours before sunset, all to myself, in Budapest. I knew that I wanted to see the opera house, Hero´s Square, and actually soak in a mineral bath this time around, rather than just drinking one. So, I set off. It was a beautiful 1 1/2 hour walk through the streets, with many stops for photos, and some time spent with my journal on the steps of the opera house...and my soak in the mineral waters of Budapest was glorious!!! Budapest is famous for its thermal baths, as the city lies on top of many mineral springs. This evening, the location I went to had indoor pools which were already closed, but 3 outdoor pools which were open until 9. After the long walk, the soak in the hot water as the sunset, in a courtyard of a beautiful old building, was absolutely perfect.
I was proud of myself for figuring out the wacky lockers controlled by plastic wristbands (very space age - I asked for a locker, and was handed a cheap looking blue wrist band), and even more proud of myself for taking the subway back to the hostel at dusk. I hadn´t yet been on the subway here, and the trip involved changing lines. I noticed my tendency to stay comfortable ("I could just walk back...sure, it will take over an hour and I just soaked in a glorious hot thermal bath, but then I can follow the map and be absolutely clear as to where I am at all times), and decided, "Screw it. You have everything you need to figure out the Hungarian subway system!" Totally did it.
If I live each day as it is, one moment at a time, I can totally do this travelling thing. I´ve noticed that when I am around other solo travelers, I feel empowered and inspired. When I´m around people who are less inclined (as one fellow hosteler said to me last night, "3 months??? I could never be away from home for that long!!"), my seeds of doubt become closer to the surface. For tonight, I am focusing on staying present in each moment, and in who I know I am.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
serendipity
What a beautiful thing it was, to be greeted in Budapest with hugs from our dear friends, Monica and Gabor, and their children, Sylvia & Tobi. It just so happened that our respective summer travel plans collided perfectly, and so, we will be able to spend this time in Hungary with these dear people who know Budapest well and who speak the language! Gabor picked us up from the train station in their rental car, and we then navigated the streets with his Communist-era map of Budapest (streets named after folks like Lenin have since had their names changed), in search of our hostel. Breaded cheese and cucumber salad was Monica's birthday meal of choice, and then Sarah and I had a gorgeous walk along the Danube back to our hostel. The streets of Budapest are very alive at night, and "Castle Hill" (on the "Buda" side of the city - the other side of the Danube from where we were walking) was entirely lit up.
After writing my entry yesterday morning, Sarah and I spent most of the day simply wandering the streets and castle grounds in Cesky Krumlov. It is such a quaint place, where one can stop and take breathtaking photos from pretty much anywhere, and sidewalk cafes and park benches just beckon you to stop, slow down, breathe. We both loved it there. We had lunch at a great vegetarian place that had been recommended to us, and later in the day, watched the sunset from the top of a hill on the outskirts of the town.
I felt completely at home in our hostel in Cesky Krumlov. Dubbed an eco-hostel, it had a great earthy feel, complete with compost, solar power, and so on. I called this blog entry serendipity, as I was very inspired by one of the women I met here, one of our roommates. From Australia, and probably a few years older than me, she had, 7 months ago, moved to Germany in order to be with her boyfriend. They broke up after about a month, and instead of returning home, she started travelling. That was 6 months ago, and she is planning on continuing for about one more month. She spoke openly about how healing the experience has been for her, and offered incredible support, encouragement, and also very practical and candid advice for me, as I start out on a much smaller, but still substantial trip. She saw her role as "passing on the torch" and the conversation really felt this way. Speaking with her felt incredibly empowering; clearly, this was a conversation I was meant to have had. Also in our room was a young woman from California - she is 18, and one month ago, decided to cancel her spot in college, and instead bought a one way plane ticket. She is also travelling solo, for about 6 months - not only in Europe, but in India as well. I am so inspired by these strong women, and am growing to believe with more fervor that I will be able to do this solo thing too.
The long train journey today (departing Czech, through Austria, into Hungary) came at the perfect time in the trip - in between our attempts at Austrian yodeling and humming The Blue Danube in harmony, we were able to rest. Tomorrow, we take a boat ride up the Danube with our dear friends!
With love from Hungary.
After writing my entry yesterday morning, Sarah and I spent most of the day simply wandering the streets and castle grounds in Cesky Krumlov. It is such a quaint place, where one can stop and take breathtaking photos from pretty much anywhere, and sidewalk cafes and park benches just beckon you to stop, slow down, breathe. We both loved it there. We had lunch at a great vegetarian place that had been recommended to us, and later in the day, watched the sunset from the top of a hill on the outskirts of the town.
I felt completely at home in our hostel in Cesky Krumlov. Dubbed an eco-hostel, it had a great earthy feel, complete with compost, solar power, and so on. I called this blog entry serendipity, as I was very inspired by one of the women I met here, one of our roommates. From Australia, and probably a few years older than me, she had, 7 months ago, moved to Germany in order to be with her boyfriend. They broke up after about a month, and instead of returning home, she started travelling. That was 6 months ago, and she is planning on continuing for about one more month. She spoke openly about how healing the experience has been for her, and offered incredible support, encouragement, and also very practical and candid advice for me, as I start out on a much smaller, but still substantial trip. She saw her role as "passing on the torch" and the conversation really felt this way. Speaking with her felt incredibly empowering; clearly, this was a conversation I was meant to have had. Also in our room was a young woman from California - she is 18, and one month ago, decided to cancel her spot in college, and instead bought a one way plane ticket. She is also travelling solo, for about 6 months - not only in Europe, but in India as well. I am so inspired by these strong women, and am growing to believe with more fervor that I will be able to do this solo thing too.
The long train journey today (departing Czech, through Austria, into Hungary) came at the perfect time in the trip - in between our attempts at Austrian yodeling and humming The Blue Danube in harmony, we were able to rest. Tomorrow, we take a boat ride up the Danube with our dear friends!
With love from Hungary.
Monday, August 23, 2010
it smacks of battery...no, maybe more like the underside of a car...
I am in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been (And, I´m imagining that I´ll be saying those words often over these next few months). A different kind of beauty than I have seen before, Cesky Krumlov could be the set of some kind of medieval fairytale. The views of castle, church spires, winding river and cobblestone streets look, in places, as though they´ve been painted onto a backdrop. It´s 30 degrees and there´s hardly a cloud in the sky. Absolutely breathtaking.
To move back in time for a bit, on Saturday morning, we boarded our train from Prague. The ticket inspector, after stamping our tickets, spoke to us firmly in Czech. From her perspective, our dazed looks must have communicated that we understood completely, as she quickly left without any sort of nod or smile. Tom, a very kind 25 year old guy (who also plays in a band called ´Bitches and Chips´, just to help with the mental picture), who was sharing our train compartment with us, offered a translation without us asking, explaining that we would need to exit the train at a certain stop, board a bus, take a short bus ride, and then get on the train once again. It was truly a gift to be sharing our train compartment with Tom, as Sarah and I both would have assumed that she had just wished us a pleasant journey, or something like that. Sure enough, about 2 hours into the trip, we followed a herd of people off of the train, through a station and onto a bus. We then reversed this process about 20 minutes later. It´s a tricky to know when to smile and nod, and when to insist on a translation. :) Speaking of which, there´s little in my years of singing and learning about diction in many different languages that has prepared me for Czech. It took several days of asking several people to repeat it slowly, before even ´thank you´ would stick in my mind.
Saturday afternoon, we arrived in Marianské Lazné (again, apparently "West Bohemia´s prettiest spa town"). The town first offered spa services in 1808. There are 100+ springs in the area, 40 within the small town itself - the fact that there are so many different types of mineral springs in a small area makes the area a geographical rarity. I had been interested in checking out the Eastern European "spa-town" phenomenon, and we picked this one, not really knowing what to expect (but imagining being massaged and bathing in mineral water)...
We were sweaty from the train ride before our 30 minute walk to the hostel wearing our backpacks. After a rejuvenating collapse into bed, we quickly put on bathing suits, packed towels, and headed off to find ourselves the healing waters of Marianské Lazné. A confusing stop at an info centre, and a purchase of yet another confusing map, led to wandering, and eventually, to finding a line up of people filling water bottles and taking pictures at a fountain marked "Rudolph". For at least the 3rd time in as many days, lemmings, we did exactly what everyone else was doing - I filled my water bottle and Sarah took a photo. After an initial grimace, "this tastes a bit like sucking on a key", I grew to appreciate the sparkling Rudolph spring. We put it together gradually, that though yes, there were spots to swim and soak, the popular thing to do in town was to partake in "the healing drink". We tried 3 different springs (even found a little "café" style place where one could purchase a fancy cup and try these different waters from sinks, one next to the other). I learned that Rudolph, my first foray into "the healing drink", has a diuretic function, and is also high in calcium, and so is used in the treatment of osteoporosis.
We found the sulphuric spring next, "the cross spring", or Krisovy, of which I managed to swallow a few drops without gagging (Sarah, not so much). Finally, "Caroline", tasted, to quote Sarah, "like licking the underside of a car". Prancing about in a Czech spa-town, wearing bathing suits and drinking metallic water, the fatigue from the day was quickly transformed to levity. We purchased a traditional Czech wafer (delicious, and also intended to neutralize the taste of sulphur), watched a fountain dance to the sounds of Strauss, and remarked how far away Prague seemed....
As we didn´t ever find a place to literally soak in the healing waters of the town, we decided that booking massages would be a necessary part of the experience. After our night at "Hostel Edinburgh", we arrived for our treatments Sunday morning, which guaranteed on the brochure that they would "render the organism to a vegetative state" (we were certain they meant this in the best possible way). The running joke was our hope that we had NOT signed up for the "happy ending" kind of massage. Josef, speaking in a mix of Czech and German, appeared to play modest when he entered the room and I was lying on my tummy instead of my back (a lot had been lost in translation), but did not play modest for long. I spent a lot of the time trying not to laugh, thinking, "Wait till I tell my massage therapist about THIS". Don´t worry, I was completely safe, and he didn´t "try anything". And I suppose if I spoke either Czech or German, I would have known, while lying on my tummy, that he was about to pull my underwear completely off of my butt. Ladies and gentlemen, the authentic Czech spa town experience.
Oily and sliding around in our Birks, we treked to the train station, and had a hot 5 hour trip to Cesky Krumlov, this fairy tale paradise that I am writing from. The details from this stop will have to wait for another post, for it´s time to wander castle grounds, and perhaps put on a bathing suit and actually enter the water this time.
With love and hugs.
To move back in time for a bit, on Saturday morning, we boarded our train from Prague. The ticket inspector, after stamping our tickets, spoke to us firmly in Czech. From her perspective, our dazed looks must have communicated that we understood completely, as she quickly left without any sort of nod or smile. Tom, a very kind 25 year old guy (who also plays in a band called ´Bitches and Chips´, just to help with the mental picture), who was sharing our train compartment with us, offered a translation without us asking, explaining that we would need to exit the train at a certain stop, board a bus, take a short bus ride, and then get on the train once again. It was truly a gift to be sharing our train compartment with Tom, as Sarah and I both would have assumed that she had just wished us a pleasant journey, or something like that. Sure enough, about 2 hours into the trip, we followed a herd of people off of the train, through a station and onto a bus. We then reversed this process about 20 minutes later. It´s a tricky to know when to smile and nod, and when to insist on a translation. :) Speaking of which, there´s little in my years of singing and learning about diction in many different languages that has prepared me for Czech. It took several days of asking several people to repeat it slowly, before even ´thank you´ would stick in my mind.
Saturday afternoon, we arrived in Marianské Lazné (again, apparently "West Bohemia´s prettiest spa town"). The town first offered spa services in 1808. There are 100+ springs in the area, 40 within the small town itself - the fact that there are so many different types of mineral springs in a small area makes the area a geographical rarity. I had been interested in checking out the Eastern European "spa-town" phenomenon, and we picked this one, not really knowing what to expect (but imagining being massaged and bathing in mineral water)...
We were sweaty from the train ride before our 30 minute walk to the hostel wearing our backpacks. After a rejuvenating collapse into bed, we quickly put on bathing suits, packed towels, and headed off to find ourselves the healing waters of Marianské Lazné. A confusing stop at an info centre, and a purchase of yet another confusing map, led to wandering, and eventually, to finding a line up of people filling water bottles and taking pictures at a fountain marked "Rudolph". For at least the 3rd time in as many days, lemmings, we did exactly what everyone else was doing - I filled my water bottle and Sarah took a photo. After an initial grimace, "this tastes a bit like sucking on a key", I grew to appreciate the sparkling Rudolph spring. We put it together gradually, that though yes, there were spots to swim and soak, the popular thing to do in town was to partake in "the healing drink". We tried 3 different springs (even found a little "café" style place where one could purchase a fancy cup and try these different waters from sinks, one next to the other). I learned that Rudolph, my first foray into "the healing drink", has a diuretic function, and is also high in calcium, and so is used in the treatment of osteoporosis.
We found the sulphuric spring next, "the cross spring", or Krisovy, of which I managed to swallow a few drops without gagging (Sarah, not so much). Finally, "Caroline", tasted, to quote Sarah, "like licking the underside of a car". Prancing about in a Czech spa-town, wearing bathing suits and drinking metallic water, the fatigue from the day was quickly transformed to levity. We purchased a traditional Czech wafer (delicious, and also intended to neutralize the taste of sulphur), watched a fountain dance to the sounds of Strauss, and remarked how far away Prague seemed....
As we didn´t ever find a place to literally soak in the healing waters of the town, we decided that booking massages would be a necessary part of the experience. After our night at "Hostel Edinburgh", we arrived for our treatments Sunday morning, which guaranteed on the brochure that they would "render the organism to a vegetative state" (we were certain they meant this in the best possible way). The running joke was our hope that we had NOT signed up for the "happy ending" kind of massage. Josef, speaking in a mix of Czech and German, appeared to play modest when he entered the room and I was lying on my tummy instead of my back (a lot had been lost in translation), but did not play modest for long. I spent a lot of the time trying not to laugh, thinking, "Wait till I tell my massage therapist about THIS". Don´t worry, I was completely safe, and he didn´t "try anything". And I suppose if I spoke either Czech or German, I would have known, while lying on my tummy, that he was about to pull my underwear completely off of my butt. Ladies and gentlemen, the authentic Czech spa town experience.
Oily and sliding around in our Birks, we treked to the train station, and had a hot 5 hour trip to Cesky Krumlov, this fairy tale paradise that I am writing from. The details from this stop will have to wait for another post, for it´s time to wander castle grounds, and perhaps put on a bathing suit and actually enter the water this time.
With love and hugs.
Friday, August 20, 2010
dahhh...dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah DAHHH!
When in the very initial stages of imagining this Europe trip, I dreamt of seeing an opera at a real-live-European-opera-house! Tonight, La Traviata at the Prague State Opera, did not disappoint. Walking into the opulent/right-out-of-my-music-history-text theatre was an incredible "pinch me" moment. Without a doubt the most beautiful live venue I've ever been in, the theatre was built in the late 1800s and the history in the space provided an incredibly vitality in and of itself. Despite our respective backgrounds rich in music history courses and exams, neither Sarah or I could remember the plot (which we wikipedia-ed ahead of time, in fear that the surtitles would be in Czech only), nor could we hum the familiar tune from Act I ahead of time (though now, it's definitely running through my head over and over - refer to subject line. The staging was done in black & white in an almost minimalistic fashion, and, despite a few panicky moments where the chorus and the orchestra were not together, it was a great show, and the soprano & lead role, performed by Jana Sibera, was out of this world. Gorgeous. Opera in Europe - I can handle this.
Yesterday, Sarah and I ventured to the town of Kutna Hora with two of our roommates, Fredreike & Irene from Holland. An indication that I (we) are getting "old", we imagined these two young women to be in their early 20s, but were surprised to learn that they were 16 and 17, entering their final year of high school! Two quote Irene, "Yes, but we are not your normal 16 year olds". No kidding. They were such lovely company for the hour train trip, and then our wander around the town. The most famous tourist attraction in Kunta Hora is the Sedlec Ossuary, a small Catholic chapel, that contains the remains of at least 40 000 people - their bones have been used to form decorations - chandeliers, and the like. Highly bizarre and eerie, and not without opportune moments for Hamlet-inspired photos. Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sedlec_Ossuary if this sort of thing interests you. :) We also wandered around two beautiful cathedrals there, both of which are UNESCO World Heritage sights - the gothic "Cathedral of St. Barbara" and the gothic-Baroque "Cathedral of Our Lady". The downtown section of the little town had lovely winding cobblestone streets, and breathtaking views of rolling hills and church spires.
Last night, an eclectic group from the hostel got together to make a traditional garlic soup - it was a fantastic evening with this community here, and the soup is something I will certainly endeavour to re-create at home! I'm loving that this hostel attracts people not only from all over the world, but also of all ages. Our cooking group last night included individuals from at least 7 countries, and ranging in age from 16-65. I enjoyed talking last night with a woman from England, in her 60s, about the reality of being a woman travelling alone, and the struggle to navigate staying safe while resisting being overly cautious in this world that really still is "a man's world" and where the media propagates fear. This morning I ate breakfast with a criminology post-doc from France who recently spent time researching in Montreal, and who discussed his experience of feeling discriminated against by the Quebecois. The list of fascinating conversations goes on...
Sarah and I had a relaxed day of reading/journalling in a beautiful park with a breathtaking view of the city, and enjoyed traditional Czech fare for dinner - beer, dumplings, smoked meat (yes, I ate meat), and cabbage (read: greasy deliciousness). Tomorrow, we leave for our next stop in Czech, a town which Lonely Planet describes as "Bohemia's prettiest spa town". :) I'll keep you posted.
In an effort to get my body truly off of North American time, I am signing off, singing...
Dahhh....dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah DAHHHH...
(trying to get La Traviata in your heads too!)
Yesterday, Sarah and I ventured to the town of Kutna Hora with two of our roommates, Fredreike & Irene from Holland. An indication that I (we) are getting "old", we imagined these two young women to be in their early 20s, but were surprised to learn that they were 16 and 17, entering their final year of high school! Two quote Irene, "Yes, but we are not your normal 16 year olds". No kidding. They were such lovely company for the hour train trip, and then our wander around the town. The most famous tourist attraction in Kunta Hora is the Sedlec Ossuary, a small Catholic chapel, that contains the remains of at least 40 000 people - their bones have been used to form decorations - chandeliers, and the like. Highly bizarre and eerie, and not without opportune moments for Hamlet-inspired photos. Check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sedlec_Ossuary if this sort of thing interests you. :) We also wandered around two beautiful cathedrals there, both of which are UNESCO World Heritage sights - the gothic "Cathedral of St. Barbara" and the gothic-Baroque "Cathedral of Our Lady". The downtown section of the little town had lovely winding cobblestone streets, and breathtaking views of rolling hills and church spires.
Last night, an eclectic group from the hostel got together to make a traditional garlic soup - it was a fantastic evening with this community here, and the soup is something I will certainly endeavour to re-create at home! I'm loving that this hostel attracts people not only from all over the world, but also of all ages. Our cooking group last night included individuals from at least 7 countries, and ranging in age from 16-65. I enjoyed talking last night with a woman from England, in her 60s, about the reality of being a woman travelling alone, and the struggle to navigate staying safe while resisting being overly cautious in this world that really still is "a man's world" and where the media propagates fear. This morning I ate breakfast with a criminology post-doc from France who recently spent time researching in Montreal, and who discussed his experience of feeling discriminated against by the Quebecois. The list of fascinating conversations goes on...
Sarah and I had a relaxed day of reading/journalling in a beautiful park with a breathtaking view of the city, and enjoyed traditional Czech fare for dinner - beer, dumplings, smoked meat (yes, I ate meat), and cabbage (read: greasy deliciousness). Tomorrow, we leave for our next stop in Czech, a town which Lonely Planet describes as "Bohemia's prettiest spa town". :) I'll keep you posted.
In an effort to get my body truly off of North American time, I am signing off, singing...
Dahhh....dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah DAHHHH...
(trying to get La Traviata in your heads too!)
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
daring adventures & public transit fines
Two incredibly smooth flights on Monday/Tuesday (Toronto - Paris; Paris - Prague) taught me that my fear of flying is relative, and also possibly subsiding! Normally the experience of flying includes quite a bit of dread beforehand, as I imagine worst-possible-scenarios, etc (terribly helpful, I know). During the drive to Pearson Airport on Monday, I realized that the fact that I was about to get on a plane had hardly even crossed my mind, as my focus had been so wrapped up in the trip itself. Aside from needing a hand to squeeze during takeoff (thanks, Sarah! I should note here that my fabulous friend Sarah is travelling with me for the first 2 weeks of this journey), I was a remarkably relaxed version of myself throughout both flights- it seems the prospect of backpacking Europe on my own had made flying seem like a walk in the park.
We took a city bus from the airport to downtown Prague, and for some reason, I couldn't get the machine that stamped my bus ticket to work. Feeling flustered and self-conscious, I returned to my seat with a ticket that I feared was not valid (though I had paid for it), as I felt too silly to try to explain my situation to the bus driver who did not speak any English. We transferred from the bus to the subway, and of course, a ticket inspector soon showed us his badge and asked to see our stamped tickets. A rude inspector and a substantial fine greeted me to Prague, and reminded me that my self-consciousness does not serve me. :)
Our hostel is friendly, down-to-earth, quiet at night, and clean! Our jet-lagged attempt to resist napping was short lived, and a night walk to the Prague Castle, organized by the hostel, was the perfect (and only, let's be honest) reason to get out of bed. It was a beautiful thing to see many of the major sights of the city by night, before seeing them by day. At night, the streets were quiet and still, and the view of the city from the Castle area, all lit up, was gorgeous. Sarah and I then re-traced these steps during the day today - now bustling with tourists, street vendors - and enjoyed wandering the streets of the Old Downtown section somewhat aimlessly. We savoured coffee at a lovely cafe, tasted our first Czech beer (the Czech people drink more beer per capita than anywhere else in the world), were awed by the stained glass inside of St. Vitus Cathedral, took in a stunning view of the city from the Strahov Monastery, saw an unusual giant statue of a metronome (fully functional), and stood with reverence at the old Jewish Cemetery (in a Jewish area of town that Hitler was hoping would one day be only a museum). This evening we climbed to the top of the Petrin Lookout Tower (a small replica of the Eiffel Tower) to see another lovely nighttime view of the entire city. Prague is beautiful, romantic, and proud, but not without its reminders of a past filled with struggle. An eerie monument this evening which paid tribute to those killed and imprisoned during the communist regime was another reminder of this.
Tomorrow, we are off with two new friends from Holland to Kutna Hora - a town about an hour away - to see a variety of sights, including "The Sedlec Ossuary" -also known as "The Bone Chapel" (human bones, yes...)
And, we have opera tickets for the Prague State Opera for Friday night! (La Traviata - although, we have since learned/been reminded that Don Giovanni is really the opera one should see in Prague, as Mozart wrote it specifically for this city)
Before I left, my dear friend Melissa gave me a series of sealed letters, one for each week of my trip. Opening up letter #1 today was a beautiful reminder of the love that exists in my life, and I am so grateful for the support that I have received in so many forms from so many people. I will finish off with a quote that Melissa shared with me (which, when she wrote it her letter, I don't think she knew was already posted in my kitchen):
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." Helen Keller
I love this reminder to live with courage and adventure. Although for me right now, "adventure" is backpacking across Europe, I also believe that we are courageous and adventurous whenever we step out of something that feels safe and comfortable, when we take a risk to try something new, think something new, feel something new...adventure can exist anywhere...
And, the Helen Keller quote made me think of another favourite of mine, which also seems fitting for this moment (12:30am at a hostel in Prague!):
"If there is a fear of falling, the only safety is in deliberately jumping" - Carl Jung
We took a city bus from the airport to downtown Prague, and for some reason, I couldn't get the machine that stamped my bus ticket to work. Feeling flustered and self-conscious, I returned to my seat with a ticket that I feared was not valid (though I had paid for it), as I felt too silly to try to explain my situation to the bus driver who did not speak any English. We transferred from the bus to the subway, and of course, a ticket inspector soon showed us his badge and asked to see our stamped tickets. A rude inspector and a substantial fine greeted me to Prague, and reminded me that my self-consciousness does not serve me. :)
Our hostel is friendly, down-to-earth, quiet at night, and clean! Our jet-lagged attempt to resist napping was short lived, and a night walk to the Prague Castle, organized by the hostel, was the perfect (and only, let's be honest) reason to get out of bed. It was a beautiful thing to see many of the major sights of the city by night, before seeing them by day. At night, the streets were quiet and still, and the view of the city from the Castle area, all lit up, was gorgeous. Sarah and I then re-traced these steps during the day today - now bustling with tourists, street vendors - and enjoyed wandering the streets of the Old Downtown section somewhat aimlessly. We savoured coffee at a lovely cafe, tasted our first Czech beer (the Czech people drink more beer per capita than anywhere else in the world), were awed by the stained glass inside of St. Vitus Cathedral, took in a stunning view of the city from the Strahov Monastery, saw an unusual giant statue of a metronome (fully functional), and stood with reverence at the old Jewish Cemetery (in a Jewish area of town that Hitler was hoping would one day be only a museum). This evening we climbed to the top of the Petrin Lookout Tower (a small replica of the Eiffel Tower) to see another lovely nighttime view of the entire city. Prague is beautiful, romantic, and proud, but not without its reminders of a past filled with struggle. An eerie monument this evening which paid tribute to those killed and imprisoned during the communist regime was another reminder of this.
Tomorrow, we are off with two new friends from Holland to Kutna Hora - a town about an hour away - to see a variety of sights, including "The Sedlec Ossuary" -also known as "The Bone Chapel" (human bones, yes...)
And, we have opera tickets for the Prague State Opera for Friday night! (La Traviata - although, we have since learned/been reminded that Don Giovanni is really the opera one should see in Prague, as Mozart wrote it specifically for this city)
Before I left, my dear friend Melissa gave me a series of sealed letters, one for each week of my trip. Opening up letter #1 today was a beautiful reminder of the love that exists in my life, and I am so grateful for the support that I have received in so many forms from so many people. I will finish off with a quote that Melissa shared with me (which, when she wrote it her letter, I don't think she knew was already posted in my kitchen):
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." Helen Keller
I love this reminder to live with courage and adventure. Although for me right now, "adventure" is backpacking across Europe, I also believe that we are courageous and adventurous whenever we step out of something that feels safe and comfortable, when we take a risk to try something new, think something new, feel something new...adventure can exist anywhere...
And, the Helen Keller quote made me think of another favourite of mine, which also seems fitting for this moment (12:30am at a hostel in Prague!):
"If there is a fear of falling, the only safety is in deliberately jumping" - Carl Jung
Friday, August 6, 2010
Wings...check!
It's surprising to me that it's taken me this long to finally create one of these for myself, journaller and teller of (inevitably long) stories, that I am...
About a month ago I found myself at the library, daydreaming about all of the places I wanted to go in Europe and acquiring quite a large stack of travel books (that I of course was going to read every word of before I headed off on my adventure)...Drifting away from the usual Lonely Planets, Rough Guides, and so on, I began looking through some first-hand travel memoirs. In one such volume, I found a quote that read something like this:
"A traveller without a plan is like a bird without wings"
It must have spoken to some part of me that was already feeling anxious for having not planned nearly enough for this upcoming adventure, because I immediately felt a pit in my stomach of "You're not prepared enough! You're going to miss out on things! You're going to wander aimlessly! You've already failed this trip!" Etc! Etc!
I allowed these thoughts space for a brief moment, before tossing this book aside, and devising a new image for myself:
"A traveller without a plan is like a bird without a plan"
Better. Sure, birds probably have plans when they're seeking out food/shelter and so on. That's cool - I can do those things. But I'd at least like to naively imagine that a bird who is soaring over some new and beautiful vista doesn't necessarily have a plan for where she is heading to next.
Plan: (the absolute bare minimum), check.
Wings: check, indeed.
I'm off - to cultivate spontaneity, adventure, courage, and to learn where these wings will take me when I, for once in my life, actually don't have a plan.
About a month ago I found myself at the library, daydreaming about all of the places I wanted to go in Europe and acquiring quite a large stack of travel books (that I of course was going to read every word of before I headed off on my adventure)...Drifting away from the usual Lonely Planets, Rough Guides, and so on, I began looking through some first-hand travel memoirs. In one such volume, I found a quote that read something like this:
"A traveller without a plan is like a bird without wings"
It must have spoken to some part of me that was already feeling anxious for having not planned nearly enough for this upcoming adventure, because I immediately felt a pit in my stomach of "You're not prepared enough! You're going to miss out on things! You're going to wander aimlessly! You've already failed this trip!" Etc! Etc!
I allowed these thoughts space for a brief moment, before tossing this book aside, and devising a new image for myself:
"A traveller without a plan is like a bird without a plan"
Better. Sure, birds probably have plans when they're seeking out food/shelter and so on. That's cool - I can do those things. But I'd at least like to naively imagine that a bird who is soaring over some new and beautiful vista doesn't necessarily have a plan for where she is heading to next.
Plan: (the absolute bare minimum), check.
Wings: check, indeed.
I'm off - to cultivate spontaneity, adventure, courage, and to learn where these wings will take me when I, for once in my life, actually don't have a plan.
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