Paris was Perfect

I have to admit that I was not all that excited for Paris. I had nothing against going, but it was not the first on my list. I had this impression that French people were too snooty about food and too formal with their landscape designs. Still I went, thinking I would at least have a god time.

When we arrived we made our way to our couchsurfers place, and found it without any trouble at all. On the way we passed through a lively market where dozens of vendors lined the streets selling fresh produce, cheeses, pastries, fish and meats, as well as fresh pastas. I realized how much I was craving really fresh healthy food, so I went back out and bought vegetables of every color in the rainbow, plus some lemon and cheese, so that I could make a salad. Only 30 minutes in Paris, and it had already won me over.

Our host had given us his entire flat for the weekend while he stayed with his girlfriend. His flat was super stylish and functional, and a perfect size for 1 person. (Also not bad for the three of us for a short period). He wasn’t there when we arrived, but he planned to meet us there around 6. We had a few hours so we all went out walking around in different directions.

I walked for only a couple minutes before discovering a graveyard. It was walled in on all four sides but there were large entrance gates in the middle of each block. It seemed to be organized like a four-square garden. There was a large central sculpture and two intersecting roads that pass through it. Trees line each side of the road making strong lines leading in toward the sculpture. The grave stones ranged from humble to a bit ostentatious, but they were all beautiful. I spent two hours walking around and admiring them. Just before 5 pm aman came around in a small vehicle, like a golf cart, ringing a bell and yelling out something that I assumed meant the graveyard was closing soon.

I made my way over to a gate realizing I had gotten sucked in a bit and slightly disoriented. I looked toward the central sculpture to reorient myself. I walked out and toward our flat, and ran into Irene on the way. Quentin was not there yet and we thought it would be nice to have dinner waiting for him so Irene and Christine set out to buy more food. While I waited for Quentin I drew in my visual journal. The girls returned with fresh pasta, roasted red peppers, and pesto. They also bought wine, a baguette, and brie for a snack. Quentin came home while we were eating in his house. It was a bit funny inviting him in to sit at his own table, but not awkward, especially since we could offer him food and wine.

We all sat and talked for a while about our trip so far, and our plans in Paris. First on our list was to check out the club scene, it was after all a Saturday night. We set off to find a club on a boat that typically has a good dJ. We thought we had found it, but noticed a group of parisian girls skipping over that boat to another, so we decided to follow them. They got on a boat that appeared to be a private party, but no one said anything to us on our way in, so we hung up our coats and tried to blend in. We were welcomed by groups of girls pulling us in to their dance circle, which made us feel better about party crashing. After some european techno and a few Michael Jackson songs, the champagne and a cake full ofcandles were brought out. We all sang “Bon Anniversaire” and clapped as a girl blew out the candles. We spent some time out on the dock enjoying the breeze, and then headed back to the flat to sleep.

In the morning we went to a cafe on the corner for brunch. We all ordered the special: a smoked salmon quiche over a bed of greens. When the waiter arrived with our food held our plates up and he sneered at our table. Christine looked at him, confused, and started to grab the plate from his hand, thinking perhaps he didn’t realize how high he was holding it. The man sneered again, this time at her, and said something in French. Irene and Christine knew a similar word in Spanish and immediately understood. Apparently he just wanted us to move out napkins out of the way. It was a bit of an awkward moment, but we got a good laugh thinking back on Christine trying to grab the food out of his hands.

The quiche was absolutely delicious. The French know how to cook, and deserve to be a bit snooty about their food, as long as they let me sit there and enjoy it. After brunch we headed out the “Jardin de Luxemburg,” a typical large-scale formal Parisian garden. It was the perfect day to go to the park, the temperature had finally broke 60 (remember this is still in January), it was a Sunday afternoon and all of the locals were out enjoying the park.

I was 100% wrong about formal park design. The formal lines were entirely appropriate and made for a unique and enjoyable experience. Sure there were large spaces that were not occupied by people, but they were still used to form dramatic views. We spent hours there just sitting, watching small children play red rover, red rover, older ones played soccer, couples walked down the winding paths holding hands, and men play a game I had never seen before with a beer in hand. We walked to the other end and discovered the circular pool of water where little boys and their dads tried to get their remote control boat all the way across, while teenagers gathered chairs in a circle and through bread crumbs for the birds.

We slowly meandered away from the park, picked up crepes with bananas and nutella from a street vendor, and headed toward Notre Dam. Notre Dam is a beautiful and intricate gothic cathedral with ceilings high enough to make anyone consider the existence of a higher power. The interior is dark, cool, and peaceful, but the exterior is a bit more lively with a plaza in front and a gathering of pigeons along the side near the river.

After enjoying the cathedral we headed out toward the modern art museum where we planned to meet up with out couchsurfing host and his friends. He took us up to the top of the museum which was also an enclosed viewing deck where you could see all of Paris, including the eiffel tower. The sun was setting and the clouds in the sky provided a beautiful backdrop for a photo.

They took us on a walk around that part of town, mostly in search of a good place to grab a drink. Later we split off from his friends and just went to his girlfriends house to make dinner. We started with a delicious toasted baguette loaded with cheese and drizzled with honey and french herbs. Next we made a pile of crepes which we first stuffed with cheese, vegetables, and spices, and later––for dessert we drizzled honey and lemon on them. We chatted and drank wine until it was time to head home for bed.

The next morning we decided to make the famous commute down the Champs-Elysées from the Arc de Triumph to the Louvre. The scale of this street is phenomenal. We stopped about halfway to eat at a cafe with good outdoor seating so we could enjoy the day and watch the world go by. It seems like a counterintuitive activity for a typical sight-seeing tourist, but I highly recommend it. After a couple pizzas, a couple coffees, and a couple hours we moved on toward the Louvre. The scale of the walkways is phenomenal. Carefully trimmed trees plantedin a strip topped with gravel towered over separated the pedestrians from the cars speeding by. The sidewalk was smooth and flat, allowing for your attention to be up and forward.

After a few blocks we stumbled upon the corner of the large formal park that connected to the Louvre. Another large circular pond was placed in the middle as a casual gathering space. Moveable lounge chairs were provided so people could sit in a cluster, bath in the sun, and watch the birds flock. The rest of the walk was well curated with predetermined paths, bold hedges and a wide staircase. Once up the stairs you could get a better view of the Louvre, and there were small access points to various lawns: smalll sloped lawns for sun bathing, and larger flat lawns for playing soccer.

The actual building wrapped around three sides creating a central gathering space with of course, the famous pyramidal structure and staircase down into the museum. The museum was closing shortly so we decided just to enjoy the space while the sun set. I don’t particularly love the pyramid sculpture, but at the very least provides an anchor point and a unique way of entering a building.

We headed back toward home, strolling by the Notre Dam to catch another glance, and grabbed some groceries to made dinner at home. After dinner Irene and I scurried out to the Sacre Coeur to catch one more glimpse of Paris that we had not yet seen. Its setting on a hill made it another good vantage point to view the entire city. It was a perfect ending to an overall perfect experience in Paris.

The Detour on the Way to Paris

We decided not to buy a train ticket all the way to Paris because we knew the bus tickets would be cheaper. So our plan, was to buy a bus ticket once we got to Brussels, knowing about how much it would cost and that it would leave within an hour after getting there. When we got to the Brussels bus station we found that the only tickets still available were 1st class, which would cost us over $100, we were hoping to spend closer to $30 or $40. There was another bus leaving in the morning with cheaper tickets, so we decided to buy those tickets and find a place to stay in Brussels for the night. We got on the dreaded metro, heading for the Van Gogh hostel not knowing if they had any beds available, just hoping.
We found it pretty easily, it was not far from the metro stop and was apparently the building Van Gogh lived in for a period of his life. Luckily, they had a room for us! It was a pretty clean and put together place. This hostel had a variety of energy and water saving appliances, the kinds I originally expected to see in Europe, but had forgotten about. The bathroom light was on a timer, so if you forgot to turn off the light it turns of automatically. Of course it also turns off if you take too long. I found this out not because I took too long, but because I went in after someone else and jus got the tail end of their light session. The shower is also on a timer. Instead of having an on-off handle and temperature settings there one button. If you press it once you get about 2 seconds of luke warm water, but i discovered if you press really hard for a couple seconds you get about 30 seconds of warm water. It was definitely a bit annoying, but I think I would get used to it after a little while and end up using a lot less water and heat. I would not enjoy my showers quite as much, but perhaps those are the kind of sacrifices that are necessary if were going to take serious efforts toward sustainability. I would be curious to know other peoples response to that experience, and how it differs across cultures and demographics.

The rest of the night was relatively uneventful and we made it on the bus to Paris with ease. Our detour, although a bit frustrating at first, went pretty smoothly and did not put us back too much in terms of time or money.

Bruges was Brief

We got to Bruges late, and we’re still recovering from drinking, eating sweets, and sleeping in a basement (a deadly combination for me). So we almost immediately took a nap. We were woken by our own stomachs, so headed to a traditional restaurant for a bite. I ordered some sort of spicy and cheesy eggplant dish. It definitely hit the spot. By this time we had figured out that water is not a free drink, and water bottles are not acceptable, but it didn’t stop me from sneaking a few swigs from my purse while the waitress’s back was turned. I am not sure if someone saw me or one of the other girls but we were warned on our way out not to drink our own water in a restaurant again. I wouldn’t say this was a culturally shocking experience because I had known about this, but free water at a restaurant is something I really appreciate in the US and will continue to miss while I am here. Anyways, we headed back to our hostel, where we shared a room with 12 other people. There was a bar on the ground floor with cool grungy art on the walls and lots of people so Irene and I hung out and chatted for a bit before going back upstairs to sleep

.

In the morning we caught the tail end of the included breakfast and put our bags in storage before heading out to the center of town. With only a short amount of time we simply walked around enjoying the site of canals, the smell of pastries, and the sound of horses and buggies clicking down the road. We did make one special stop at a quart yard and garden formerly owned by the Medici family, now run by nuns. The Medici family started their own bank in the late 1300‘s which fueled and inspired many projects during the Italian Renaissance. I am not sure what they were doing in Bruges, but they left a garden there for people like me to appreciate. I ate at another traditional restaurant, and also went to the grocery store for chocolates and snacks for the road before heading to Paris. Bruges, while brief, was a pleasant experience and seems to have a lot to offer.

Brussels was Bittersweet

We arrived in Brussels late. We had a connection with only 3 minutes in between, and of course missed it. It’s almost impossible to get from one platform to another in that amount of time, especially if you have to stop to see which platform to go to. We tried to run, but it peeled away just as we were close enough to reach the door. It was only an hour until the next train, and the time passed quickly, but I felt bad about showing up late to another couch surfers house, especially since he had mentioned preparing dinner for us.

We made it with only a little confusion and extra walking, and thankfully Emmanuel, our host, has made a quiche and was able to pop it in the oven upon our arrival. He also offered us a beer from his collection reserved to couch surfers. Emmanuel had radio head playing, and I noticed a pretty expansive collection music, mostly American Classics, but he also had some cds of more underground music. I was impressed. The quiche was ready quickly, he made one with deli meats, and another with potatoes––a Brussels classic, both were delicious. We ate and talked for a little while but went off to bed shortly. Our bed was in the basement and they had not yet turned the heat on, so it was very cold and the air was stale, still we were tired so we slept.

Around noon we headed out to the city center, or in Brussels: The Grand Place. Brussels is probably walkable based on its size, but it is confusing and just large enough that you we didn’t really want to, so we often took the metro. The metro in Brussels was my least favorite thing about Europe so far. It was crowded, tense, smelly, and loud. I was just glad to get off and back up to street level. When we got downtown we stopped for lunch. I got quiche again, this time with broccoli and roquefort, a good stinky cheese. We finished up and headed over to the Grand Place, stopping for chocolates, and to see the 'Manneken Pis' on the way. The Manneken Pis is a very small statue of the little boy peeing. It is periodically dressed by high up visitors of Brussels. There are many tales about why Brussels has a peeing boy statue, most of which involve the boys mother or father losing the boy, and then finding him peeing somewhere. On rare occasions, the statue gets hooked up to a keg of beer and share beer with anyone passing by. All in all the statue makes quite an impression given its size.

When we made it to the Grand Place I was blown away by the the beauty of the architecture and the scale of the space (I would say almost 300 ft long). It seemed underutilized at the time, but I would assume the dynamic changes at different times of day and year. We continued to wander into lace shops, which Belgium is known for––particularly Bruges and Brussels, each has their own style and technique.

That afternoon we made our way to the “Park of Brussels.” It was a cold weekday so the park was not really alive, but it was still beautiful. It was my first time experiencing a formal, axially organized park. From the center you have four clear views of distant, but significant buildings in Brussels. Trees lined each path, framing the views. Sculptures of significant people were placed evenly in a circle around the center as well as throughout the park. The park seemed relatively flat and simple at first, but I found one edge that dipped down 15 or 20 feet below street level. Down there was a lush romantic path where I saw people holding hands, and hidden sculptures, one of which I was inspired to draw. The sun had set at this point and we had made plans to go to an old cinema near the park.

The cinema was showing an old black and white silent slap-stick comedy, with a live pianist––as much of a novelty as it is a mouthful. The movie was essentially about a socially awkward and kind of stupid character that is always getting himself in t some sort of trouble. It was entertaining and a generally enjoyable experience.

We headed back toward the center of town to grab some food and drinks, remembering someone had mentioned a concert in the Grand Place that night. The concert was fairly humble considering the available space, something I’ve heard is typical of Brussels. Still it was funky, and fun, and enough people were groovin’ out to make it engaging. The Grand Place was even more beautiful at night, and I was actually happy it wasn’t packed with people.

We walked about a block away in search for food, and found a greek restaurant to sit down in. A cat immediately sat down between Irene and I and stayed there snuggling with us until we left. If the food wasn’t so awful it would have felt like home. I also ordered a cherry beer, which was recommended by Emmanuel. It tasted more like cherry soda than beer, which is surprising and strange, but I still enjoyed it. We moved on to a bar just across the street, this time ordering more traditional Belgium beers. After our first round of drinks, our waiter told us that the man across the room was the owner and wanted to buy us drinks, so I ordered something expensive. Later, our waiter came back over and said, “Actually he wasn’t really the owner, he was just trying to impress you. I am the owner, and I cannot let you go without a drink from me, so the next round is on me.” After this point feeling pretty good, and it was getting pretty late for a weekday so we started to get our coats and things. The waiter came over one more time, this time with shots already in his tray. Its hard to resist free drinks, so we took the shot, tipped well, and headed out. With the metros off and a rain drizzling down we splurged a bit on a cab ride home.

The next morning we let ourselves relax, but made sure to pick up a Belgium waffle on the way out. It was just street food, but it was by far the best waffle I have ever eaten. The waffles, chocolates, beers, lace, architecture all made for a sweet and beautiful experience, but the metro along with some of the food and unmentioned unfriendly people tainted our perception of Brussels, which is why I am calling the overall experience Bittersweet.

Alkmaar

We took a train up to Alkmaar, which is a beach town in the Netherlands where people from Amsterdam take weekend trips. We were excited to get out of the city for a bit to see expansive beaches, rolling hills, and thick layers of trees. We got to experience all three within our first couple hours in Alkmaar. Irene’s friend Ludwin picked us up from the station and took us to the sand dunes. These sandy hills formed along the coast as a result of wind, and were held together by the roots of vegetation. The town preserved much of the natural formations and vegetation recognizing their flood minimizing and benefits, but also put a labyrinth of paths for people to enjoy it. It was relaxing to get lost in the woods, and quite a contrast from navigating urban areas. (I have unfortunately misplaced my pictures from this portion of the trip, but I will get some from Irene or Christine soon).

After a brisk walk through the dunes we made our way to the street where there was a pancake restaurant. I ordered a pancake with apple and bacon, a combination I couldn’t resist. My goal was to save my sweet tooth for Belgium waffles and chocolates, but I have to admit the banana and powdered sugar pancake looked pretty amazing as well. Holland style pancakes (called Pannekoek) are very large––one is enough––and they are absolutely delicious. I am tempted to compare it to a crepe or an American style pancake, but I just don’t think it would do it justice. If your really interested let me know because I would like to try and make it myself when I get back in the states.

After brunch we made our way over to the beach. Sitting on the beach in January is a bit strange, instead of bathing in the sun we were huddling together wearing winter jackets, gloves, and scarves. Still the absence of tall buildings made the sun strong and relatively warm. We went back to Ludwin’s house which was really cozy and perfectly located at the confluence of two canals with a clear shot to the cheese tower which marks the center of town. The tower used to be a cheese factory, now it is a market place where they sell cheeses (mostly Gouda of course). We relaxed and warmed up for a while, until we felt motivated to make dinner. Ludwin insisted on making her famous Moroccan stew which is filled with hearty vegetables and spicy curry seasonings. She also made a chocolate cake with a layer of homemade jam in the center, and a hand powdered sugar glaze on top.

The next morning we slowly made our way out of bed, filled some crepes with cheeses and jams and went in to the town center. There used to be a bridge over the canal linking Ludwin’s neighborhood with the town center, but it was replaced with a ferry that went back and forth all day long, only traveling about 50 feet each way. It was pretty ridiculous, but convenient so I did not complain. We walked around looking at shops and the church near the center. We eventually made our way to the train station where we could rent bikes to ride around. We got fries with curry mayonnaise to hold ourselves over while we explored. We wandered along a bike trail along a river where there were large wind mills every 50 meters.

After our ride we headed back toward town to grab dinner. We went to a Tapas restaurant, which of course is Mexican, but Holland is not really known for their food and I have never been to a Tapas restaurant. Christine’s Spanish came in handy because there were no english translations. I had her order for me, so I could just sit and enjoy. There was a special that night that essentially made the number of dished you ordered unlimited, I was not prepared for such a gluttonous evening. We had cheeses in a bowl doused with honey and herbs, cheeses wrapped in meats and meats wrapped in cheeses, and so many more things I couldn’t possibly remember, but almost all of it was delicious and filling. I kept thinking we were almost done when another round of dishes would come out. By the time we were done the restaurant had emptied, and we were leaning back in our seats with our heads back and our bellies out.

The next morning we had our usual crepes and spreads, dropped off our bikes at the train station, picked up some fruit from the market, and headed to the train station for Brussels. Alkmaar, although not on the original itinerary, was a relaxing, accommodating, cheap, and yet gluttonous surprise.

Amsterdam is Amazing

We left most of our belongings at the Hotel in Prague and headed out for the Amsterdam with only a backpack. I convinced Irene and Christine to couch surf with me. For those that don’t know, couch surfing is a website that gives you access to people all over the world willing to host travelers for free. Not only do you save money on sleeping arrangements but you often have access to their kitchen so you can cook meals at home occasionally, and you get to meet a local and his/her friends.

We arrived in Amsterdam and were immediately greeted with friendly people that spoke fluent English. Everyone we

spoke to at the airport and train station seemed experts at putting stressed out travelers at ease. They make some initial funny

remark that makes you giggle, and then quickly provide useful information. It left quite a good impression on the rest of our

trip.

Our first night we stayed with a guy named Thomas. He is French so you pronounce it Toe-ma. Thomas had a great flat rightnext to a metro stop-- of course that didn’t stop us from taking the wrong train and then wandering around lost while of course holding everything on our backs. When finally made it, we found Thomas and his friends/coworkers chatting over drinks, but he stopped to greet us and bring our heavy bags upstairs to our bed. Thomas graciously made us a bowl of pasta to share, which was greatly appreciated after being on a train through dinner. We sat down with his coworkers to eat and drink. His coworkers were mostly French, but one was from Spain, and they all spoke pretty good english. Christine is fluent in Spanish and Irene can get by so their conversation often took a Spanish turn, and everyone else spoke French so I was sometimes left trying to understand one or the other. I know slightly more French than Spanish, but still not enough to follow, especially taking in to consideration their accents. This was somehow comforting knowing they didn’t feel any pressure to act any differently with us around, but I was happy when they switched back to english.

After hours of talking the girls got anxious to go out and explore Amsterdam. Of course at this point it was 2 am and there is not much to explore, but we found a good falafel place to feed our late night craving. The walk there revealed the first amazing thing about Amsterdam: canals. We came upon a canal every 100 meters or so, and the lights and around each reflected on the water providing a beautiful view almost everywhere in Amsterdam.

The nextmorning we set off for breakfast, and to the Van Gogh museum. I was pretty excited because Van Gogh is one of my favorite artists. We took our time getting there, taking in the brilliance of the place on our way. The most noticeable things besides the canals are the scale and the pace. The streets are significantly wider than streets in the US, but only to make room for the separate bike roads, and extensive pedestrian paths. There was also space for bikes and cars to park, separately of course. The buildings, even in central Amsterdam were a maximum of 5 stories, with the exception of a handful of towers and important buildings. The pace is slow. Instead of raging cars, everyone casually rides their bike, people walk slowly and make eye contact with you as you pass, even the trams move slowly. The overall feel is relaxed and carefree, and I think this is partially a result of a the scale and proportioning. When there is enough room for people to walk and ride their bikes without having to push through traffic or crowds, you feel a sense of relief. We made it to the Van Gogh museum and I was brought to tears from some of his work. I can only hope I soaked up some of his technique by studying it for so long.

After trotting around the grounds of the museum we headed back toward Thomas’ house, stopping at a grocery store so we could cook him, and ourselves dinner. We made him pasta with eggplant, roasted red pepper, onions, and olives. Of course we also had wine, and chocolates for desert. Irene invited her friend who is currently living in Alkmaar, a place where many people in Amsterdam go for a quiet weekend at the beach. She convinced us to come to her place after Amsterdam. After dinner we went out to the center of town for some drinks, walking first through the red light district and past the cafes. At the bar I had the beer of the moment: Zatale, which is an Amsterdam beer with a lot of flavor and a bit of a bite, so it got my approval. After we met up with Thomas’ coworkers at a bar with a live cover band. There was a back room where we were all able to gather with ease and chat. In addition to Thomas’ immediate friends there were 2 more girls that just got in from Sweden. They were studying here and were interesting to talk to. Again 2am rolled around and we finally started to make our way home.

The next morning we headed out to a breakfast joint recommended by Thomas. My impression is that the food in the Netherlands is pretty typical food that you can get just about anywhere, and Thomas agreed, saying they do not hold eating specialty foods as highly as they do in France and many other countries in Europe. However, they are known for their Gouda cheese, and use it like Americans use cheddar, which is a specialty for me. So I had an omelet for breakfast, with gouda melted throughout.

After breakfast we split up to take in the day in solitude, something we could all appreciate after spending every minute together. I checked out a few shops in the immediate proximity and found a very cool vintage shop with leather shoes, funky hats, lace gloves and much much more. I started making my way to Dam square in the center of town, but took a left toward the 9 little streets, which is an area where there are lots of interesting shops. On the way I discovered a peaceful Indian store that was perfectly scented with incense and played meditative music, next I went in to a designer clothing store which used long lime green hangers that stretched to the ceiling. I am not sure if they served any practical purpose, but they certainly made for an excellent spatial composition. Within this same store was an fashion and art exhibit that was strange to say the least. One item looked like a greyhound neck piece, like a dog shaped pillow that you where around your neck. I can’t say I was really into it, but I appreciated the integration of wacky art in a retail store. I also found a hand made jewelry store that also sold real pressed insects, I bought a framed butterfly set, but had to pick it out quickly so as not to get freaked out by the framed tarantulas. I actually snatched a few of the butterfly sets, distanced myself by a few paces, and chose the one I liked, and leaned over with my head facing the other way to hang the others back up. That is how creeped out by spiders I am.

Next I found a wacky gifts store, which seemed to be aimed specifically at tourists, exhibiting shot glasses with the Amsterdam symbol: XXX, various drugs that are illegal or at least taboo in most countries, and other touristy nick-nacks. After those experiences I was pleased to discover a store with large beautiful artwork hanging in the wall, soft music, and large handmade instruments––mostly didgerdoos. One of my favorite places of the night was a handmade cosmetic store. I walked in and was immediately hit with a fresh citrus scent. As I got closer to each bar of soap I discovered much more subtle and interesting scents including a variety of herbs such as lavender and rosemary, as well as some wackier ones such as seaweed, which was somehow tastefully done because I bought some. Beyond the soaps were facial creams lying on a bed of ice, apparently all made from food products without preservatives. They used anything from lettuce to chocolate, and they all smelled divine. My last stop was in another wacky gift store, but this one was much less tacky, and more more of a practical, although sometimes just goofy gadget store. I really appreciate these stores because they seem to highlight all of the ways you can turn life into a run on joke. At this point it was 6 o’clock, shops were closing, and I am not sure I officially made it over to the 9 little streets district––something to look forward to if I ever go back. The sun had recently set and the lighting was perfect for some canal shots. I walked around soaking up the beauty until my stomach started grumbling. I stopped in an Thai restaurant for a small bowl of coconut mushroom soup (one of my personal favorites). At that point it was time to meet the girls back at home. That night I started a drawing diary while watching Alice and Wonderland, taking it easy to prepare for our trip the next morning to Alkmaar.

Here is my mailing address for anyone that would like to mail me something.

You have to spell out my full name, including middle initial because I have to present

my passport in order to receive my mail.

Ella G. Braco

N.C. State University Prague Institute

Michalska 3

Prague 1, CZE 11000

Czech Republic

Prague is Pretty

I am finally settled in enough to start writing so I will start with day one and add more recent adventures soon.

After a long flight without sleeping I was grateful to make it to my hotel for a shower and nap. I am staying in a nice part of town right outside of the Old Town, in the Vinhorady district, only a five minute metro ride from main track. That night Irene, Christine, and I went out for a late dinner around the corner. I barely knew these girls before arriving in Prague, but I quickly got to know them that night, and will continue to discover more about them over the following months. The three of us spent hours bonding over ex-boyfriends and family history while enjoying fairly traditional Czech dishes. The waiters knew a bit of English but certainly did not speak freely, and seemed slightly annoyed with our attempts to speak Czech. I think we will get a better vibe from people as we learn beyond hello, goodbye, and thank you.

The second day was another a recovery day as well as a day to take care of some business.

In the evening we went out again, this time we set out for the Charles Bridge. We took the metro in to town and walked along the river until we found the Bridge. Even in the dreariest of days the Charles Bridge is beautiful. The buildings in every direction are beautifully crafted, perfectly in tact, and lit in a way that highlights their architectural elements. The distant views provided a compositional completeness that I have rarely physically experienced. A haze surrounds the bridge and winds around each statue providing a mysterious and almost eerie feel. At the northwest end of the bridge, across the river from the Old Town are two towers which are unlit. Between the towers you can see another tower in the distance, which is lit. Prague is known for its towers after all. The light in the background partially covered by a layer of dark in the middle-ground combined with the haze in the foreground played tricks with my eyes. The haziness makes you feel like you are in a distant place, or in a dream space, but the bitterness of the wind makes the experience impossible to mistake for a dream.

After crossing the bridge we stopped in a bar to warm. We sat down for a drink and began playing rummy. The table was reserved for later that evening, but we assumed we would be gone by then, so we ignored the sign. Over an hour passed and we were still sitting there when the bartender warned us of the reservation. We finished our game of rummy, and moved to another table, this time closer to a group of locals. They immediately asked us about the game we were playing and we invited them to join. They picked it up quickly because it resembled a game they are used to. They were very friendly and bought us some local specialty drinks. My favorite is the Becherovka, which is liquor made with somewhere between 13 and 34 herbs, there seems to be some confusion on that number, but the main herbs are anise and cinnamon. We have kept in touch with our rummy and drinking friends, and all in all it was a pretty good introduction to Prague.

Brief Update

Hello Everyone. I know you are all patiently waiting to see pictures and read stories of my travels. But you'll have to wait a little longer. For now, I will give a quick update:

After resting in Prague Christine, Irene, and I headed out to Amsterdam. We spent a couple nights there, and then went to Alkmaar, or as we called it--our vacation from our vacation from our vacation. After Alkmaar we travelled down to Brussels, today we are going on a day trip to Bruges, and tomorrow we head to Paris. February 9th is our orientation day in Prague, so shortly after that I will begin posting pictures are sharing stories!