AmsterdamI don't think I have ever been so enthusiastic about leaving a plane as I was when I landed in the Netherlands. It took much longer than I would have hoped for the plane to travel from the runway to a docking gate and begin the unloading process.
While walking past baggage claim on my way to find an information desk to inquire about my rental car (and where I needed to go to pick it up), I actually needed to stop and say to myself, "I'm in Amsterdam!" It was unbelievable. There is something so absolutely touching and exhilarating about making your dreams reality that it makes you question if it really is reality at all. Hearing it in my own words didn't make the circumstances feel any more tangible, it only made me recognize that I was in a state of disbelief and awe. It wasn't until I had boarded a shuttle, surrounded by unfamiliar city lights with the threat of getting lost ever-present, that I started to process what was really happening. I was on my own in the world, taking part on of the most adult escapades I have ever had the privilege to take advantage of. Once I picked up my rental car, everything started to fall into place exactly as had been planned. Thankfully, I had been equipped with two different GPS devices (one that was part of the car's dashboard, another that was suction cupped to the window), otherwise I have my doubts that I would have been as successful in navigating this unfamiliar terrain. My first destination was Flying Pig Beach Hostel, my local accommodation for the night. After checking into the small, calmly lit yet lively enclosure, I made a quick run to a local gas station to procure some snacks to tide me over until the following morning. As I was returning to the hostel, I took a detour and parked my car on the curb near the beach. The wind swept carelessly past me, not pushing but pulling me closer to the sea with the promise of sweet nothings. Carried on the breeze was the smell of salt and the distinct sound of waves crashing against the shoreline. My shoes slid and sank into the sand when the boardwalk ended and I walked until I was stepping in puddles of sea water. The night was cloudy, lights from the city only daring to illuminate the lowest hanging clouds, but I was not cold despite the wind. I was filled with the same feeling of warmth you encounter after returning home from a long journey, the kind that comforts you and lulls you into a muted sense of bliss. For a long moment, I stood listening to the water sing as though it were a song made only for me. Unfortunately, I did not linger as I wanted to - there was work that needed to be done. I let my paper occupy me and my thoughts for a portion of the night until sleep became a threat. Morning would come soon and adventure was waiting for me. Sleep came easy enough with headphones even though there was a party happening in the hostel lounge, and I woke up bright and early the next morning only to find the lingering party goers socializing at the bar counter. My belongings had been gathered, my key returned, and it was time for me to be on my way. So, I said my goodbyes to the pleasant, little hostel on the coast with its social atmosphere and welcoming overtones, shared a few "maybe I'll see you around"s with those who I had shared a room with the previous night, and left the Flying Pig in my rear-view mirror. Navigating the Amsterdam airport for the second time wasn't a challenge I really wanted to face until I was preparing to fly back to Finland, but it was altogether necessary for finding my travel companion. I always did have a bad habit of arriving to places too early (which I don't really consider a bad thing), which meant that I was waiting around for much longer than intended. It didn't help that his plane arrived at a gate other than what had been specified on the arrivals timetables displayed on mosaics of television screens hanging from the ceiling in several easy-access locations. |
Waking up to the promise of taking part in the biggest adventure of your entire life is in no way a small thing. I was filled with excitement, anticipation, and anxiety. I left for my bus way too early and took my time on the frosty roads of Turku. Due to my apparent insufficient amount of sleep the night before hand, I had no trouble falling asleep not only on my bus to Helsinki airport but also on my flight to Amsterdam. The only downside to this was that I had planned on using that time to complete the first paper I had been required to write thus far during my term abroad. Writer's block conveniently takes hold when it is most unwanted. So, my procrastination (intentional or otherwise) meant that I would need to write about half of the paper during my journey.
My flight was smooth sailing, but my eagerness to arrive in Amsterdam left me feeling rather impatient. I woke up with what I thought was only 25 minutes of the flight remaining. As it turns out, my phone hadn't adjusted to the time zone change (which I admittedly was unaware of) so I spent "an hour extra" on my flight than originally anticipated. Oh well, I landed safe and sound exactly when my ticket said I would arrive. But, this did make for a pleasant surprise when he seemed to materialize next to me (one minute I'm waiting for him to walk through the doors in front of me, the next minute I glance to my side only to find him standing there as if he, too, were waiting for someone). Our reunion was fast paced, making small talk as we traversed the arrivals plaza and made our way to the car. Now, it was only a matter of finding our way to Amsterdam's city center.
The narrow city streets proved nerve wracking to venture if only for their size alone, not to mention the amount of cyclists and pedestrians wandering about. Our first challenge was to find parking. Seeking out a lot of some kind was fruitless, so we ended up parking some odd distance away on a canal. I had a fight with the parking meter pay station - it was in Dutch and didn't want to process my payment, though in its defense I had no idea what I was doing because I couldn't read the instructions. Then, it was just a matter of finding our way to something worth seeing. To clarify, when you're as lost and surrounded by novelty as we were, everything is something worth seeing because it's another piece of an otherwise unknown proverbial puzzle. The civilian and residential aspects of a city can be as telling as its most known attractions. One might think it would be pretty easy to get lost in a city where you've never been before but the layout of the city is actually logical and easy to follow. Not to mention the fact that Amsterdam is extremely friendly not only to people traveling on foot but also to bicycles. The sheer number of them lined up in alleyways and along the canals was astonishing. The city even has stop lights specific for bicycles, an ultimately practical piece of how city travel works. So, it was easy enough for us to find our way around, even if it meant walking in circles in attempts to both kill time and uncover lesser appreciated scenery. A personal highlight of mine on this particular excursion was (for the second time, the first being at the Milwaukee Public Museum) attending the Body Worlds exhibit. The theme of this visit was the Happiness Project, so many of the informational plaques provided details about healthy lifestyles, physiology relating to stress reactivity, and ultimate physical well being. The exhibit itself was built on several floors, where visitors were to take an elevator to the top and work their way down into the basement while following bodily development through several categories. The experience brought to visitors of this exhibit is truly one of a kind. Even though I knew a fair amount of the information I was being presented, the method of presentation remained both new and phenomenal. The human body is a beautiful and extraordinary thing, and it is a pleasure to see it represented as such. Another thing of note is Amsterdam's tourist culture. The city thrives on tourism both in sights and shops. In this respect, it demands visitors take a look at what it has to offer. We certainly did - having found an awesome, obscure shop that even sold film for my Polaroid. One of the growing pieces of tourism in Amsterdam actually centralizes around the legalization of marijuana. Tourists from all over come to partake in the multitude of strands offered in local shops, which are built to take advantage of buyers by also offering "munchies". Weed culture is so prominent that most of the products offered in tourist shops have pot leaves or are pot related. I was rather shocked to see just how many products are offered in such a casual setting. Everything from suckers and other edibles to novelty items like weed flavored condoms and stickers/patches. As far as I've been told, natives to the area are becoming frustrated with the sheer number of tourists who come simply to get high. But, the market is self-sustaining in that everything in Amsterdam is priced significantly higher than in the surrounding areas. So, go to Amsterdam because the canals are beautiful and the city streets are lined with curious, little shops, go because history pours from the cracks in the mortar, go because it will leave you feeling awestruck and content in the same way you do when you've just learned a very valuable secret. |
|
Baarle-NassauBaarle is a town on the border of the Netherlands and Belgium, where rights to different pieces of the city have created an interesting maze of borders. There is no rhyme or reason to their appearance other than denoting the border without regards to anything in their path (take note of picture 1 to the left where the border goes into the road and down the street before continuing).
Our visit here was brief, mostly a quick stroll and a pit stop for lunch. As it turns out, ordering from a Dutch menu as a native English speaker is like playing Russian-Roulette. You don't really know exactly what you're getting yourself into save for having a general sense of the rules of the game. Overall, I found this place rather charming and quaint, but it was a place that had that familiar "town in the middle of nowhere" type feeling. |
BrusselsThe hostel in Brussels provided a WiFi signal just strong enough for me to be able to successfully submit my first, official paper of the semester. Admittedly, despite the faulty internet connection, the place was well maintained and was rather luxurious. There was a gorgeous courtyard behind the main building, which we had a picturesque view of from our room and an even better view of from the dining room (not only was breakfast actually good, but it appeared as though the wall between the dining hall and the courtyard was capable of opening up to enlarge the space during times of good weather). But, the best part by far was the fact that the neighbor's cats kept sneaking into the hostel, demanding attention, and using the lounge room furniture to sunbathe.
The city itself had an interesting black-hole like effect in regards to the architecture. The closer you got to the center of the city the more complex and astounding the buildings are. In order to get to the heart of the city, we needed to cross a canal, which ultimately gave the illusion that the entire city center was suspended, surrounded by water and only accessible by bridge (this was not the case, but it certainly felt like it given how we entered and left). |
The main square was dizzying in that everywhere you looked was another awesome church or monument-like building (it took turning in several circles to appreciate it as a whole). But, my favorite part of the city was actually a church that we saw on our way to the square. The church itself was as impressive as is any old church, but the outer walls were covered in written messages of love, peace, and resistance.
|
|
LuxemburgLuxemburg basically had New York's Central Park in the middle of the city, the only difference being that this park was located in a gorge. So, we avoided the city streets (save for another lunch stop) and ventured down several, long flights of stairs only to find ourselves encircled by thriving trees and brush. We spent some time walking along a creek before enjoying the simple pleasures of a playground and observing those utilizing the local skate park.
Somewhere in the mix of things, I managed to lose my inhaler (an item that I need for reasons detailed in an earlier post regarding my asthma), and found myself staring up toward the top of the gorge filled with both dread and relief. Dread because I was going to need to climb far too many stairs to get back to the car and I was going to be winded by the time I got to the top, but relieved because I couldn't possibly think of a better reason find myself breathless. |
ParisParis is a city best seen in the dark. Despite our difficulty finding parking and the amount of insane traffic at seemingly all hours, a trek through the city on foot was a particularly magical experience. Under the night sky, the city itself is born of stars. It's as though the city comes to life at night in ways that daylight could never replicate. Every corner is intricately lit and reflected in the gentle waters of the canals, not the least of which is Paris's crowning tourist attraction: the Eiffel tower.
When first entering the city streets, I marveled at the sight of buildings of government, oddly structured museums, and the usual array of fascinating churches, but I was in awe at the sight of the tower. Our whole journey through Paris can easily be summed up as a chase to see the tower in all its glory. Like a lighthouse, a beacon shines from the top of the structure, and the entirety of it is lit in a dazzling display to showcase the masterful architecture. Even at a distance, it is something of majesty. We crossed the canal and weaved through city streets in search of the terrace where we would be awarded the best view. It was on our way here that we made a pit stop for dinner. The atmosphere of the place was that of any standard bar type establishment but the preparation of the food was exquisite. I doubt I will ever have herb grilled chicken as flavorful and delicious again. Upon reaching the terrace, I kind of fell back into that state of disbelief. It doesn't seem real, even when you're right there staring it in the face (so to speak). On the other side of the tower, a carnival like event was happening, but we kept to the outer area of the terrace, only stopping to take a seat on a park bench and just appreciate where we were. |
It's strange to think about the places that life takes you, and stranger still to realize that you are living the life you've only ever dreamed of. I could never have imagined such an incredibly opportunity to travel, would have never guessed I would be able to take full advantage of it, and never would have believed the amazing places I got to go and the things I got to do. Watching the Eiffel tower light up in a brilliant display of lights, sparkling in the night, is just one of those things.
On our way back to the car, I noted several other things of interest. There is an entire commerce built around the canals in the city, mainly sightseeing tours and water-born restaurants, but what an awesome way to experience a place. If we hadn't been pressed for time, I would have insisted on a ride on the ferris wheel (pictured above) that we saw near the canal. It would have been incredible to see Paris's lights from up above. Now, all I can think is that I will need to go again, and that I'll catch a ride on the ferris wheel next time. |
ZürichThere's something strange and almost eerie about walking around a massive city and things being relatively quiet. By quiet, I mean that most of the stores were closed, the streets weren't flooded with tourists, and overall the noise of the city was muted by the wind. This is one of the peculiar disadvantages of losing track of time. There is only so much control a person has over what day of the week they spend in a city when on a spontaneous road trip. We happened to be in Zürich on a Sunday, which would explain the lack of energy (note that I did not say lack of life) in the city. The city itself was very much alive, but in much more subtle ways than one might imagine.
|
Our general plan of attack for navigating these cities was to find somewhere to park, mark the spot on the map, wander in search of the city center, get ourselves "lost", and just explore the things that we happened to stumble upon. In this regard, we were free to follow the suggestions of "must sees" given to us by Google Trips or to pick and choose our own destinations. What we noticed while employing this strategy is that there is plenty more to a city than the primary attractions. It's not always about finding and enjoying the typical touristy things, but rather being able to see the beauty in the places that you end up. When we were wandering around Zürich, we focused less on finding something noteworthy by fame and focused instead on finding a good view and taking in the scenery.
It took some climbing, but there is a park-like area that overlooked a good portion of the city (seen far below in the panorama slideshow). The view from this place was perfected by the fact that I was able to sit on the ledge of the park wall, staring miles into the distance at a city embedded into the side of a mountain. But, the scene that really captivated me is the one we caught while crossing the bridge into a busier portion of the city (as seen somewhere to the left). The water's surface was like a mirror, reflecting the clouds as they passed overhead in near perfect replication. It was truly serene. The only thing more beautiful that being in the mountains as the sun begins to fall on the horizon, is driving through the mountains at twilight and watching the cities light up over the water, suspended lights hanging in the mountains like decoration rather than residences. Unfortunately, since I was driving, I only caught passing glances at this spectacle, but even the driving proved to be a beautiful endeavor (pictures featured below in the driving montage, you'll know which ones they are). There's nothing quite like it in all the world. |
RomeRome is a place where the streets bleed history. It is ingrained into the grout of the sidewalks and lives in every crevice in every stone. Everywhere you look is something simultaneously falling apart and being constructed anew. The atmosphere is strange in that way because it feels like you're skipping through time to some degree. You round one corner and there are shops and modern conveniences, but if it weren't for the mass amounts of tourists and subsequent salesmen, you would be in places that are hundreds of years old. Basic streets and parkways have been built to surround that which is ancient in the city, to such an extent that I parked less than a block away from the Colosseum.
Visiting this city and having some time to take in even a portion of the sights has been something on my bucket list for many years. I didn't get to take any official tours or go inside of any of the once (and still) great structures, but I had the pleasure of basking in their presence for a period of time and appreciating their majesty. To me, that's all that really mattered - getting to see (and be) part of the history. |
You'd think by the way I talked it up, I would have more to say on the matter, but this city left me in awe. Really, it's something that is hard to put into words and is genuinely something that must be experienced first hand.
|
|
Vatican CityUnfortunately, we were unable to travel inside the city itself (since there are special regulations regarding who is able to enter), but I can now successfully say that I've walked almost all the way around a country in all literal sense of the word. The city is surrounded by a large, stone wall - and we had the misfortune to park on one side of it and walk in a large circle just to get to the entrance of the square.
Our time here was extremely limited, given that it was pretty late by the time we were done exploring Rome, but just like Paris, seeing the square lit up under the cloak of night was a pretty amazing thing to witness. No panorama could do justice to the arch of the columns that surround the square (I guess less of a square, more of a circle). The masterful construction of this place was simply astounding to me, and again, had it not been for the tourists, we would have been entirely surrounded by the history of this place and nothing more. |
VeniceSaying that a city is quiet can be attributed to many things. In Zürich, it happened to be a combination of the day that we visited along with the fact that we walked primarily on side streets as opposed to main roads (even though many of the main roads were deserted too due to the shops being closed or having limited hours). In Venice, it was the very nature of the city to be silent. Even in crowded streets and while walking past busy shop fronts, the noise was dampened to a point of being practically unrecognized as anything other than a dull hum. The fact that canals run parallel to most of the walkways is likely the cause the of inherent lack of noise throughout the city. It's like the water acts as some sort of buffer, absorbing every word passed between persons traversing the streets.
Venice is a place entirely dependent on the waterways that separate the city into a confusing maze of bridges and dead ends. Navigating wasn't necessarily difficult so much as something I continually had my doubts about. Having a general sense of where you're going isn't good enough. Parts of the city are only able to be accessed by specific sets of bridges, whose locations are difficult to pick out if you aren't already somewhat aware of how the city is structured, and even harder to make your way to without some sort of visual aid. In a way, walking around reminded me of an M. C. Escher painting - but instead of a complicated mess of stairs, it's an entanglement of bridges. I don't recall seeing any vehicles except on the outskirts of the city, which signals to me that the only ways to get around are on foot and by boat (which there were reasonably a lot of). |
It even takes a drive across a pretty long bridge to enter the city. On either side, stretching for what feels like miles, is the sea. It follows you into the heart of the city and ultimately becomes the city itself, stretching like tree roots and overtaking the spaces where pavement "should" be. The day we were there, fog had clouded the waters, sinking pieces of the city at a distance into a blurred mist and stealing away any views beyond a few hundred meters. Entire buildings were swallowed by the sky. It was a rather fitting atmosphere for exploring a city that seemed to be enigmatic in its silence.
It was an incredibly peaceful and serene place, feeling the most like a place I could call home of any of the cities we visited - a place where you are surrounded by water and the quiet of the city streets is the only thing calling your name. |
ViennaI had the great fortune of having friends who were studying abroad in Vienna, so we got the insider's tour (along with excellent food recommendations and free accommodations for the night). Austria smells of German influence in every way, but that is not to say that they are necessarily similar beyond the architecture and the language. When we first entered the country, I was amazed to see snow lining the sides of the road. It was the first that we'd seen of it since Finland and the US (respectively). However, it quickly disappeared as we neared Vienna, and there were no traces of it anywhere in the city.
|
I had my first experience with wiener schnitzel in a small cafe near some of the student housing for the university. I'm pretty sure I'll be looking up ways to make it from home from now on. It's not that I'm surprised that it was as delicious as it was, it's that I'm sad that most places I go at home will not be able to give me the same dish, especially not of the same quality (if it's even on the menu to begin with).
As could be expected, the cathedrals in Vienna were astounding (beyond what I had imagined, really). We were allowed to enter despite a sermon being held. Listening to the echo of the chorus and the organs in the vast heart of the church was otherworldly. Ghostly whispers of voices bouncing off the walls in strange places and finding their way back to you in the form of silent prayers. I wandered the streets in pure awe and admiration. The city was beautiful but the history running deep in the streets made our personal tour all the more rewarding. The one thing that I remain upset about is the fact that we took a trip into a local government-like building to see and ride the never-ending elevator but it was undergoing some maintenance so we were unable to. Before we hit the road, we spent some time at a local park where tall, anti-aircraft buildings from WWII linger. They're sort of ominous. Unpleasant reminders of a much darker time, looming over a serene and otherwise peaceful park. We spent some time people watching (a father and son kicking a soccer ball around, twin boys running back and forth through a puddle, followed shortly by some teens sprinting by us followed by police both on foot and in car) before making the walk back to the car. Vienna, coincidentally, is also the place where I received my first parking ticket. Luckily, it was an easy fix and it wasn't long before we were on our way. |
KatowiceOur journey to Katowice was long (it took several hours of driving through the back roads of the Czech Republic), but our stay was short and primarily in the dark. By all coincidence, this city was responsible for the scariest moment we had on the entire trip - a near car accident. Now, it sounds a lot worse than it actually was, but regardless I'm glad for the fact that no one was injured, I was not involved in the accident that did occur, and the rental car was both undamaged and proved itself in having amazing brakes. A driver cut someone off, smashing the front ends of both cars (but apparently not bad enough to render either car un-driveable), and the perpetrator quickly backed up and drove away. I managed to hit the brakes hard and fast, leaving us ultimately un-involved and unscathed, and allowing for us to also back out of the situation and leave. Needless to say, I was wide awake after this.
If that weren't bad enough, the hostel we had booked for the night was in a strange, unmarked place (despite being in a well-lit, market square type area), and took us quite a while to find. However, when we finally got inside, the room was nice (considering what we paid, especially since we were only really there to sleep), parking was free, and our next morning's destination made the whole stay worth it. |
OświęcimThe only reason we decided to go to Poland in the first place was to take a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau. Clouds covered the sky, blotting out the sun, and a light rain fell in a mist across the city streets. We didn't go to the museum at the first site. Instead, we headed straight for the death camp's remains. Just being in the city itself and knowing what had taken place there had been giving me bad feelings, but that was nothing compared to walking to the entrance of Auschwitz and staring down the railroad tracks that led thousands of people to their demise.
Death is a sticky thing. It stays in a place for an incredibly long time, lingering uncomfortably around corners in the mud like an unwelcome guest. The weight of this place is practically unbearable. I found more than once that my eyes were on the ground, straight down, instead of gazing around the place and its many sights. It feels heavy there, like stones piled up on your shoulders while you trudge through thigh-deep water. Unfortunately, only one of my pictures saved (given a small glitch problem my phone has). However, I think the photo of the barracks alone is enough to capture the horrific vibe that is given off on the grounds of the camp. After having learned so much about the Holocaust over the course of several classes, I found that much of what the plaques around the camp said was already known to me. The difference in learning it this time around was the experience of being there, standing where hundreds of people once stood, walking between rows of barbed wire fences and freely in spaces that were once so crowded they were suffocating. Still, the aura hanging in the air grips tight at your throat and churns your stomach. It is eerie but powerful, and well worth it to take a visit if only to educate yourself and pay your respects to the many lives lost there. |
PragueOur stop in Prague was fairly short. If anything, we spent more time driving through the Czech country sides to get from Austria to Poland and back than we did in any of the cities. A sight I was unable to photograph (since we parked too far away to reach the view on time, only saw it from the car, and we couldn't quite locate where we'd seen it) was the view from a bridge (of course) that overlooked a river. From the bridge, you could see the vibrant colors of all of the buildings come together in a pastel wave that overtook the hill sides along the riverbank. It felt like the sun had perched itself on the horizon just right to illuminate things in a soft, golden glow. Simply gorgeous. I regret not trying harder to find that place. I just didn't get a good enough look from the driver's seat.
While in Prague, we took the time to get lunch from a local burger place near a park. I don't think I've ever had a more delicious and inexpensive meal. It was only 17 euros to feed the both of us, and the food was both high quality and plentiful. I later found out from one of my Czech friends that even this counts as an expensive meal in the Czech Republic. |
|
SalzburgSimilar to our experience in the Czech Republic, Salzburg was a place we mostly just passed through (really, we slept there and that's about it, but the limited wakeful time we spent there was quite beautiful and worth sharing even briefly). The entire place is built around a mountain (seen pictured to the left). I got to appreciate it for a time while sitting in a parking lot waiting for my friend to grab us breakfast from the market (Lidl) around the corner. What I appreciated most about it was the way the fog rolled off the mountain-side in the rising temperature of the morning sun. It's a gorgeous sight to watch while driving (obviously I only really got passing glances) through the Austrian country-side.
|
MunichGerman architecture will never cease to leave me feeling deep appreciation. Walking through Munich felt like walking through one large park, even though the city center was a market square. It didn't feel as crowded or industrial as you might think. Even passing by construction zones and shop fronts, it never once felt like a city. I'm not quite sure that I can pinpoint why I felt this way, but it was an odd sort of feeling.
Here, we stopped into a food bar type shop and hung out in a strange "basement" area where you basically sat on a railing against the wall to sit at your tables. Even when "sitting", you were mostly standing. The cake we got here was really tasty, even if there were cranberries in it. It was a nice, casual (albeit busy) place to have a nice lunch before getting back on the road (but not before discovering my second parking ticket). |
|
|
DachauWhen I say we went to Dachau, I mean that we went to the city of Dachau to go to the Dachau concentration camp. What I hadn't realized before entering the city is that a good portion of the place itself had memorials or sites that were related to the concentration camp. This meant that the extent of the camp's influence was much larger than I had originally thought. It felt like a real disservice only being able to spend a short amount of time here. We weren't even really able to take our time going through the museum exhibits in the barracks or the prison. This quick pass through this huge piece of history left me wanting to see and experience so much more. It definitely wasn't a stop meant for a road trip but rather a day trip (a whole day) just to see most of what there was to offer here. At the very least, I was able to pass through the iron gate into the camp that reads "Work sets you free" in German like so many others have before me, but unlike many I had the luxury of leaving. Similar to Auschwitz, I would find the occasional rose threaded into a fence or resting on a wall as a show of respect for the lives lost here.
|
BerlinWaking up in Berlin was a pleasant surprise for multiple reasons. First, our arrival was like something out of a movie. From the highway, in the distance, the entire city could be seen, alight in the dark hours of the evening like a beacon guiding our way. Second, the hostel we stayed at was incredibly nice (they even served a pretty stellar complimentary breakfast). But, most importantly, I realized that I had miscalculated while planning the trip and we actually had a little bit more time than originally accounted for.
So, we spent a good portion of the day wandering through the city, ticking landmarks and monuments off of a proverbial checklist like we were on a scavenger hunt to see it all before leaving. From the Reichstag building (the one that had been rebuilt since the fire near the beginning of WWII) to the remnants of the Berlin Wall (left in pieces all around the city, pieces of stone and iron rods the only indicator that anything ever stood there at all), we traversed pieces of history. I walked the line where the wall once stood, where a great rift divided this beautiful city, where tensions boiled and people had been gunned down when wanting to destroy or simply to cross this barrier. I had seen a piece of it once before, in the Capital building in Washington D.C., but this time was different. Now, to me, it felt like a warning: never again. |
If there's anything I can say about Germany, it's that it's a place that feels blood stained. Its history is stained in violence, fear, and hatred. I don't wish to be mistaken in saying this given that German history is also very rich in culture and joyful traditions, and as much as this holds true for most places if you dig deep enough into history, there is no denying that the deafening impact of WWII is ever-present.
|
FrankfurtAs it turns out, we showed up in Frankfurt at just the right time. Carnival, a huge, traveling German celebration, had its casual tail end in Frankfurt the day we happened to be there. What this meant was that people had gathered from all over to follow a massive parade that was en route through the city center.
The last parade I was at (in) was in the fall during Willy Street Fair. In comparison, Madison's tiny celebration of local business was just that: tiny. The parade in Frankfurt was not only enormous, but it was one of the more strange events I've ever had the pleasure of attending. A mish-mash of local businesses, school sports teams and bands, political messages, and organizations of all kinds were represented in the seemingly never-ending line of floats. As far as I understand, each city that Carnival appears in has a different slogan or word that they yell during the events. In Frankfurt, it's "Hello!" So, my friend and I are in a crowd surrounded by people screaming "Hello!" in waves while excited parade members launch all kinds of things into the crowd. |
Typically, one might expect for candy to be thrown at parades. This much is true for every parade I've been to or been in (except for when city regulations don't let you throw it because of child safety laws). What I found out rather quickly is that I'm pretty bad at catching candy these days (part of my excuse was that I'm a 21 year old who doesn't really need or want candy, let the kids have it). However, I was coerced by my eager travel companion to catch some since he didn't want to be the one doing all of the work (plus he just wanted candy to eat on the road). The first thing I caught was a bar of soap. This wasn't the only strange item we caught, which included: a bag of kettle cooked chili chips, a bag of popcorn, body wash packets, and a sugar coated donut ball. Apparently, some floats were even throwing sampler bottles of booze.
When the parade finally came to a close, we decided to follow the tail end of it and wound up a few blocks away from the city center. Still collecting candy, still surrounded by semi-drunk individuals who were hilarious to watch if only for the sheer amount of joy they seemed to be having, and still tripping over the massive amounts of trash that lined the streets (that would later be cleaned up at an astonishing rate). After this, I was fortunate enough to be able to meet up with three of my German friends who had all studied at my home university for their exchange periods. Together, we walked to the river that flows through Frankfurt, crossed the bridge into a less commercial area, and wound up at a bar and restaurant to enjoy a meal. Here, I had my second experience with wiener schnitzel - the only twist being that this one was farm/breakfast themed and included an egg and some bacon (I get the feeling I liked the schnitzel here more than I did in Vienna if only for the added benefit of bacon). It was unfortunate that my time with these friends had been limited to the extent of a meal, but our road trip was quickly coming to an end and we needed to make headway in the time it would take to arrive at the airport the following morning. So, after some heartfelt goodbyes (and "hopefully I'll see you soon"s), we were on our way to Dortmund to sleep our final night in Germany away. |
Going HomeSomeone once told me that goodbyes are hard. This is something I've known for quite a while (something that is both true and a bit of an understatement), but now something that I have a bit of a new respect for. For the longest time, I thought these goodbyes were specifically reserved for people. Now, I understand that they are for places too.
In eleven days, we went to nineteen major European cities, eleven countries, and logged just over 4,000 miles (6.5 thousand kilometers) on the road. Throughout all of this, I learned so much. Since this was my first road trip, I found out rather quickly that taking a road trip means actually living on the road. It means realizing that your time in each place has to be limited; it means stopping in places just long enough to see the things you came there for, grab a meal, and get back to driving; it means prioritizing and adjusting your plans; it means finding a bed for the night and staying only so long as you sleep there; it means eating out all the time, especially quick gas station-style meals; it means that by the end of it all you'll be utterly exhausted by the sheer intensity of being "on the go" all the time; but, it also means that stopping will be the hardest part. When I arrived in Amsterdam to drop my friend off at the airport, it had finally hit me that what I had just experienced was over. My travel companion left my arms and darted off into the airport to make sure he was going to catch his (already adjusted) flight on time. After that, being on my own just wasn't the same. The sense of adventure hadn't quite died, but it had stalled - sort of like a fire that goes out in the wind but the embers stay lit deep in the ashes waiting to be rekindled. I don't really know if it was because I was exhausted or if it was because I was in shock, but it felt like my head was swimming. For hours, I didn't feel like myself anymore. There was an air of denial hanging over me that what I had just done had never really happened. It was as if my body (mostly my mind) couldn't quite handle the idea that I had just used my powers as an autonomous adult to travel through central Europe for a week and a half and effectively check off a huge portion of my bucket list with one of my best friends by my side. Admittedly, it was a lot to process. We had seen so much, done so much, experienced so much that it all sort of blurred together into this incredible haze that I rejected to be reality. Even now, the entire thing feels reminiscent of a vivid dream. I remember going through every crease and crevice of the rental car before returning it to ensure that all of my belongings were accounted for. I remember taking a shuttle from the hotel to the airport. I remember sitting there for quite a while, killing time before my flight. I remember arriving back in Finland and buying a bus ticket to the city center to catch another bus that would take me home (but only after spending several hours freezing in the bus station). I remembering arriving back in Turku to slush covered sidewalks and snowy skies, only to find myself back in my apartment, unpacked and in bed. It took me quite a while to mentally unpack (especially since I had taken only a backpack's worth of items into Europe, and walked out with the same amount). I had a lot of memories to digest, a lot of sights and feelings to process, and a lot of experiences I needed to be able to put into words. As it turns out, it's rather difficult to do. If I could have taken the easy way out, I would have summed this entire trip up in one phrase: You sort of just had to be there. |
The danger with traveling is that once you take the initial step far beyond your comfort zone, you begin to crave going further and further. It started with the first several times I left Wisconsin. They were short trips to other states and soon they evolved into trips that were across the country. Every once in a while an itch would show up, one that couldn't be scratched but demanded to be satisfied. As soon as I left the United States, it was all over. My arrival in Finland had practically guaranteed that I would eventually become unsettled with remaining in the same place for too long - and that's where this road trip comes in. As a direct result of this adventure, I fear that I will forever be unsatisfied calling a place "home" for anything resembling a long period of time. But, I don't think there's anything wrong with that (especially since it gives me an excuse to continue traveling).
When this all began, I needed to take a moment to myself to laugh and say aloud "I'm in Amsterdam", and as soon as I returned to Finland I needed to take a moment (probably much more than that) to laugh and say aloud "I really just did that, that actually happened". Now that it's over, I find myself missing the perpetual excitement, thrill, and bliss. I miss the way I felt driving down highways, celebrating every time we crossed a border, constantly surrounded by novel sights, smells, and sounds, and waking up every morning in a new country or a new city with the threat of adventure looming over me. I can say with certainty that this was by far the largest adventure I have ever embarked on (not to mention the most fun, the most rewarding, and the one that left me feeling the most drained). If there's one thing that I realized in the midst of this, it's that adventure is always out there screaming your name in the distance and just waiting for you to come find it. I proved to myself that I could listen to that voice on the horizon, that I could afford to walk away from my life for a little while and spend my time chasing shadows. Lately, I've been constantly reminded that life is truly amazing, but only when you take the time to actually live it. |
Nobody gets to leave here alive, don't just survive.