Valencia remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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The first day was, as it always is, all train. Long and sllooow. Still, me and Ruaridh were excited about Dr. Gallagher putting us up in a real hotel for 2 days! (Thanks again Dr. G) We rolled in a couple hours past the time we were supposed to, around midnight, and caught a cab to our Hotel, called BCN Design Hotel. At night, with the huge buildings and bright lights, it could've been New York. I was pretty surprised at how metropolitan everything was. We got in, and the hotel was absolutely gorgeous and very modern looking. It was funny, because in the lobby it was an angry american woman complaining about her room, an annoyed looking older english couple, and us, two giddy looking teenagers with dirty backpacks. Our room was equally cool and modern, and the bed was fluffy. We passed out pretty immediately.

Barcelona looked a lot less average in the daytime, I was pleased to see. The architecture is all beautiful and the streets were all lined with palm trees. Coming here, to Europe in general actually, makes me want to know more about architecture, but you don't need to be an architect to notice the distinct style of Gaudi. We saw one of his buildings by our hotel, and it is this surreal, colorful warp of a building that looks like something out of a Tim Burton film, squeezed in the middle of a row of modern, dull office buildings. Anyway, decided to wander around the city since it was sunny and warm, so we made our way down to Port Vell. On our way through a large open square, we stopped to watch an African band play, and they were pretty awesome. Port Vell was very sophisticated and very touristy, with nice paved sidewalks and manicured grass and some modern art placed here and there. The port contained a huge upscale shopping center called the Maremagnum, an IMAX theater and an aquarium, with a ton of very chic looking al fresco restaurants. The docks were very nice, swarming with fish and big pristine sailboats. People were taking naps in the sun on the dockside cement, which I thought was cool- for a while I was starting to think Barcelona wasn't as chilled out as I thought. After this we walked along the beach to La Barceloneta, the less touristy fishing neighborhood of Barcelona. People were sleeping on the beach in their sweaters. We walked onto a rocky pier full of really adorable stray cats. One looked like it could've been no older than a couple months. It looks like the city feeds them because there were all really well kept. The sun started to set, so we went back into the city for tapas. We went to this place right by our hotel called Ba-Ba-Reeba, and got some great white wine and a variety of tapas, like little sausages, patatas bravas, grilled squid, green peppers... it was so good! Definitely started my love affair with tapas that would carry through the rest of Spain. Later we decided to do as the Spanish do and go out to dinner even though we weren't that hungry. We wandered down the always crazy Las Ramblas to Placa Real, where our next hostel was located, and which rivaled Las Ramblas when it came to livelihood and crazy people-watching. I had paella, and we got another great wine, this time red. The food was spectacular. After dinner we wandered a bit more, this time into El Raval, the former ghetto of Barcelona that still hasn't reached it's glory. We went to a bar, a former gay bar actually, called La Concha and dedicated to Sara Montiel. This place would've been incredibly sketchy if the vibe wasn't so great- peeling wallpaper, exposed piping, dark, dank, smoky, untouchable toilets- but everyone was so cool, they were playing arab music and the crowd was a great mix of young and old. The tea was great, the guys working there were awesome. After a late night, we headed back to our hotel.
The next morning we moved to our hostel, Kabul hostel, located in the fabulously seedy Plaza Real I mentioned earlier. We did more wandering, and at a local place I had the best french toast of my life. We did a lot more wandering, and found this place called the Travel Bar, a big backpackers hangout with these two Irish bartenders who were really awesome. We signed up for a tapas and flamenco tour for the following Wednesday. Later we decided to get better acquainted with our hostel, considering how many people we met raved about it, and we realized we would probably change hostels before we left Barcelona. It seemed like they really took advantage of their popular name, so the reception was bitchy. Considering how many people there were, it wasn't a very social place, it seemed like a place where people would go with their buddies to get as drunk as possible.. the food and bar were pretty awful and incredibly smoky. But luckily there are so many places to go in Barcelona we didn't have to stay long. We wandered up and down Las Ramblas a bit and then headed to bed, of course not without the usual drunken stumblings-in from 2am until 6am, the norm in most large hostels.
Another sunny morning, and we headed over to the Parc De La Ciutadella, a really big, beautiful park which contained the Barcelona Zoo and a the Gaudi Cascada. The zoo tok up most of the day, and it was really great- I haven't seen a zoo in years. This one has Komodo Dragons in it, which were pretty crazy to see. There were also dolphins, which started performing little tricks as soon as anyone came to watch them it seemed, and all kinds of other things- jaguars, elephants, seals, penguins, etc. Afterwards we walked through the park to the fountain, which was enormous but much more conventional than Gaudi's usual work. A lot of it was also covered in scaffolding. After eating and a little more wandering about this different part of Barcelona. It's a lot bigger than it seemed at first- all of the different neighborhoods are like different cities. Barceloneta was like a seaside town, El Raval had a Spanish urban feel, this area around the park was full of business buildings and Starbucks... and we ended the night in the Las Ramblas area, the quirky, seedy lively Las Ramblas part, where we saw a late night jazz show at a little, well-known place called Jamboree, literally right next door to our hostel.
Today was our museum day, since the weather was supposed to be pretty crappy. That held true, so we decided to see to Frederic Mares museum, one man's vast collection of Spanish and European artifacts, including some of his own work since he was a sculptor. We found that almost all of it was composed of giant medieval crucifixes with various Jesus poses (as awful as that sounds) and hundred of large Madonna and Child sculptures, also looking like they were heisted from a medieval church. It was cool in ways that is really wasn't intended to be- we would just walk into a small room and be confronted with hundreds of hanging Jesus(es) staring at us from all angles... in the basement there were some tombs and ancient archways worked into the museum walls, which was very cool. After this strange little museum we headed over to the Barcelona cathedral, which I have to say was one of the most gorgeous museums I have ever seen. It was unfortunate that it was under construction, because the dark gothic peaks on the outside were covered in billboarded scaffolding, but the inside was stunning, again designed to make you feel so incredibly small. It was different than the Notre-Dame because this building actually commanded reverence from every visitor. After some unmemorable lunch, we visited the Museu d'Historia de la Ciutat, which housed the enormous chambers were Queen Isabel and King Ferdinand received Christopher Columbus on his trip from America, and a perfectly preserved piece of the ancient city underground. After several hours we had our fill of museums and headed back to our new hostel, a much better choice called Centric Point, located up in the smart, chic part of the city where the BCN Design Hotel was located. We met up with this really cool guy from Manchester named Dave. We ended up hanging out with him for the rest of the night because he ended up joining the tapas and flamenco tour we were on. We all met up at Travel bar and were served the most amazing traditional tapas, mostly "montaditos," tapa things on little pieces of toast. One was tuna with guacamole and corn, another was cheese and peppers and sweet sauce, there was calamari and grilled squid, a salsa-like one.. they were so good! After we all got chatty with a few glasses of sangria, we headed over to the flamenco venue. The venue was very intimate, and the flamenco guitarists were amazing. They looked like they could be brothers, Moriscos with the black curly hair and intense dark eyes. The female singer was incredible, and the male dancer was tapping so quickly that at some point he looked like he was levitating across the dance floor. Me, Ruaridh and Dave decided to go out after the show to a bar off Las Ramblas, since the night was still young (as far as Barcelona goes.) We were having a really great time, laughing the whole night, but Ruaridh wanted to go out and get some air since the bar started getting packed and pretty smokey. After a few minutes, Ruaridh came back in, looking like a deer in the headlights, saying his things were gone. After a lot of panicky babble, we came to realize that two guys came up to Ruaridh while he was walking up the street advertising a club, which is very common on Las Ramblas. He said they were in front of him the whole time, and he saw the two of them walk away, but somehow they got to his front and back pockets. This included his passport, green card, wallet.. everything. So while I'm trying to think of a way to handle this, Ruaridh disappears. Dave tells me he ran off to "find them" (heart attack) and so we are sitting there, waiting for him to come back. When I start getting nervous Dave says he was going to try to find Ruaridh, and he promised he would be back in 15 minutes. Some really nice bartender sees me sitting nervously and gives me a beer on the house. After a bit, Dave comes back, Ruaridh-less, but he shows up a few minutes later. We go back to the hostel and plan out what we have to do over the next few days. The guy at reception tells us that during the summer, one out of every 4 people in Barcelona are pickpocketed.
We started sorting out everything the nexy day, police reports, trying to find the british consulate, etc... we didn't do much other than that, since Ruaridh was pretty shaken up. In the morning he said he would take a cab to the american and british consulates to make things easier. We had tapas that night though, at Ba-Ba-Reeba again since it was so good. Afterwards we went back to La Concha, where the bartenders recognized us and I ended up having a very heated political discussion, albeit some language barrier problems, with some Barcelonian guy, of course all in good fun.
In the morning we had to change hostels again, this time to one called Barcelona Mar. The spanish receptionist was incredibly friendly and bubbly, and the place looked a bit run down but pretty cool. We got to our 4-bed room, which was actually in an off-shoot behind a massive 12-bed room. Ours was pretty tiny, with harsh fluorescent lights, and it smelled like still water. I got to my top bunk, and laying down my head was only a few inches below the cracked paint of the ceiling. We've seen worse, and the rooms were only for sleeping, so we hung around the common room while we waited for our laundry to finish. Later that day we went to La Sagrada Familia, an enormous spired church looming over a fairly residential part of Barcelona that Gaudi never got to finish. It was very cool, even more so that they have people trying to replicate his work and imagination to finish the rest. We wandered around the many vendors outside the church, but wanted to catch the light show they put on with the fountain on Montjuic. The area, again, was completely different from the rest of Barcelona- all of the buildings were pretty enormous, the streets and sidewalks were all wide... it just made you feel very small. The water/light/music show was really fantastic, apparently just something they do for the public a few nights a week. After fighting the leaving crowds, we took the subway back to our hostel, made some dinner and hung out. I couldn't really get to sleep in our little room, so I just counted the cockroaches. Awesome.
Our last day was definitely our best in Barcelona. We went to visit Park Guell, of Gaudi's design, and it was beautiful. The day was sunny and clear, so we just wandered around, enjoying the plants, the walks, the crazy architecture.. there was also a really beautiful Spanish-style house, a small museum. The house yard had all these beautiful flowers and trees growing, a lot of orange trees too, and those purple flowers climbing over the fence. The sound of small bands or guitarists playing around the park grounds followed us everywhere. I expected some crazy Dr. Suess looking park, but outside the food court/entrance area, it was just a beautiful place to wander. After eating, we went back to the seaside area intending to go back down to the port, but they set up a little market at the south end of Las Ramblas, so we wandered around there a bit, and I picked out a few things for friends back home. We ate kebabs for dinner... they were very good. At night we decided to go out again, for what I don't know, to get out I guess, and ended up back on Las Ramblas to see the performers and the crowds and the crazies for a last time. Oh, I hadn't mentioned the Beer Guys. These guys walk around with 6-packs of beer to sell to people. We got hit on every corner one night (not that we took of course... sketchy.) For some reason this night, the street was lined with makeshift pet shops, no dogs or cats but fish, frogs, baby ducks (awwww!!) and chicks, roosters, bunnies, etc... one guy, for some reason, was even trying to sell a pigeon. We said our goodbyes to Barcelona, and prepared for Valencia in the morning.

Barcelona remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Nice remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Our morning trip out was a little hectic, but after leaving Geneva it was your pretty normal train day. We got in and found our hostel, which is pretty far from the action but was fantastic. The dorm beds had these little curtain things and reading lights on the walls. There was a bar/restuarant downstairs that had good food, mostly American cuisine though, and good music. I don't think we did anything for the rest of that day.

We wanted to start the next day with a little walking tour to orient ourselves. Our guide was a Canadian kid in his twenties who was hysterical, and it made some of the dreary history and less-than interesting "modern art" sights a bit more bearable. The tour actually took a large part of the day, and afterwards we tried to see the Musee D'Orsay but it was closed. After a bit of aimless wandering (something we've gotten into the habit of for every city) we saw some nasty black clouds barreling in from behind the gold-tipped obelisk and decided to hightail it back to the hostel.

Something else unique to backpacking- "laundry days." Tuesday, the next day in Paris, was a laundry day for us. It is a "day" because first off, a hostel is not a hotel, you cannot "send out" your laundry and go about your business. Secondly, although all your clothes can be done in a medium-sized load, it is all you have and would under no circumstances leave it unattended. So yes, unfortunately this took up a lot of time. Ruaridh left at some point to pick us up some breakfast- since Germany, he's been completely addicted to chocolate croissant-y pastry things, and here there is a bakery on every corner, so lucky him. After our laundry we checked into our next hostel- reluctantly, because St. Chris's was great, but unfortunately booked for the next couple nights. It was technically more central, but because of the distance and the weather we still needed to take the smelly metro everywhere so it really didn't matter. After checking in to our more typical hostel, complete with tacky paint, windy, narrow creaking steps and dangerous metal-rod bunk beds- ladderless, tricky tricky- we decided to give the Musee D'Orsay another go, and I'm glad they did. I'm no art buff, and I tried really hard to remember some of the artist names, but alas I draw a blank. The works there were really incredible, and the museum itself is an old converted train station, so the building itself was artful. After art-frying our brain, we made some dinner and chilled out at the hostel, discussing exactly how we wanted to spend the rest of our days in Paris.

The next morning we headed off for the Latin Quarter, which would've been a great wandering-about neighborhood if better weather had allowed it. We decided to do as the Parisians do and stop off in some cafe for a long, drawn out lunch. It was fantastic- if the french can do one thing, they can cook. I've gotten into the habit of drinking wine with lunch and dinner since it is so good and so inexpensive- cheaper than water, actually (at least the stuff we were drinking, heh) After lunch we headed to the Notre Dame, which, despite the many cathedrals we've seen, really struck me. It is one of those cathedrals designed to make you feel so small, amidst this huge presence that at the same time was so intricately decorated. It turns out, though, that most visitors were not as captured, so we had to shuffle along amidst the camera flashes and chattering and all that until we could finally escape. After this, we wasted some time strolling in and out of souvenir shops, then dropped by a cafe to warm up over some coffee for a loong time. We tried to think of another obligatory tourist trap to visit and decided to hop over to the Arc du Triomphe. Turns out yes, it was an arc. I took pictures for tourists aplenty, and just as we were about to take off we noticed the traffic circle from hell, and decided to stick around for a bit. Apparently it is the most dangerous traffic circle in Europe, with 12 roads converging into this traffic light-less roundabout, averaging one accident per 30 minutes. It was the most exciting thing we've seen in a long time, actually. Little motorcycles crossing over 6 lanes, buses diving into its heart with reckless abandon, not to mention a few idiots who decided to run across. Once we started to go numb from the cold, we headed back and after making dinner- baguette and pasta has become a diet staple, by the way- spent the night talking to people from the hostel, mostly the 3 Aussie girls in our dorm, who were really funny and easy to get along with.
The next day yielded similar crap weather, and I'm starting to doubt our cleverness in picking the fall for Europe. We wandered around the Bastille area, and I got a nutella crepe (mmm.) We fought the driving rain to wander through a graveyard- and right before halloween! Ravens and everything. We saw, of course, Oscar Wilde's grave, which was covered in lipstick kisses of all different shades, and then went to see Jim Morrison's grave, much smaller and blocked off, with some flowers. Afterwards, we sloshed up to the nearest cafe. It was very strange, because they had posters up in the window of Jim Morrison and his grave, but with thick, violent scribbles and X's over it in black crayon. Once inside the cafe, they had posters up of Jim Morrison all over the place, unmolested. It was all very strange. On the way back to our hostel, I picked up some sushi- apparently we crossed through Paris's asian quarter- and some meat from a butcher (for Ruaridh, naturally.) We ended up spending the night downstairs in the kitchen area again, drinking cheap wine with the Aussies and watching a group of Spanish hostelers sing and dance and stamp their feet and drink and laugh, because that is just what Spanish people do.
Our last day in Paris ended up begin a jumble of all the huge sites we didn't get to yet. Namely, the Louvre, the Chat Noir, and ze Eiffel Tower of course! We saw Montmartre in the day, so it was less glamorous and mostly just seedy. We saw the Moulin Rouge, and I imagined how pretty it must be lit up at night. I had wanted to see a show, but at a 90 euro cheap seat it just wasn't going to happen. Afterwards we wandered down to the Chat Noir for some coffee, still reminiscent of it's former seedy glory. There were sill some tobacco-stained pillars from the original building. You could imagine the room filled with smoke, the sound of someone pounding out a jazzy tune on the piano in the corner. After this we went over to the Louvre. We had perfect timing, actually, I'm quite proud of this. It was Thursday and the Louvre stayed open until 9, with discounted entrance after 6PM. We arrived around 5 from the metro stop, and as we entered the corridor containing the inverted glass pyramid, we saw the slews of people, hanging out or drinking coffee, waiting for the museum to drop it's prices. We booked past them, bought tickets at full price, and for the hour we actually had a great deal of the museum to ourselves. The day crowd was gone and the night crowd was yet to come. We decided first to go see all the big works, the Mona Lisa, the statue of Venus, etc and then take our time with the rest. The Louvre was amazing and at the same time very intimidating- just thinking about all that there was to see made you want to curl up and take a nap. We wandered down vast hallway to vast hallway, works of art in their own right with their beautifully painted ceilings. After a few hours we got to the point you get to in museums where you can no longer process any artwork and your brain starts to throb. We headed over the the Eiffel Tower just in time to see it light up in a glittery light show- it was very cool. Afterwards it settled to a pretty blue, enhanced by the fog settling high over the city. We were in the perfect spot, across the river with the bridge twinkling white in the distance.
That night we were back at St. Chris's, and it was halloween! Over dinner at the restuarant downstairs we ran into a couple guys from Canada and another from California. We ended up talking to them for a few hours, but decided to bypass the zombie party in the "club" downstairs and took an early night. The next stop was Nice, and honestly, despite the romance and the history of the city, I just wanted to get out of Paris.

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We decided to stay a little longer and switched to a hostel called Balmer's Herberge, the one and only party hostel in Interlaken. It was really big and really cool, kind of a series of oversized log cabins with central courtyard hangout areas and a very infamous downstairs bar. My only complaint was that it was a little too Americanized- full of screechy overprivileged Californian girls on a school trip, from what I gathered, and a bunch more americans and aussies looking to get as drunk as they can, as fast as possible, with the mental capacity to match. Luckily not everyone was like that- the first night we started talking to these two Canadian girls, Jenna and Jess, who were hilarious, some of the stranded and slightly-cooler-but-just-as-drunk californians, and these two startlingly good-looking South African guys. That night we went down to this bar, the "biggest club in Interlaken," which was a basement with some music and strobe lights, haha. But it was still nice, and the drinks were affordable.

The last day we wanted to make a day trip to Bern, since it was only 50 minutes away and we basically spent all our switzerland time in Interlaken and the alps. Despite having a bit of a rough morning, we got out early for the last day, deciding to whittle it down to the basic highlights. It was a cute city, but so obscenely expensive that it really took away from the experience. They had an open air market going on, so we checked that out, but basically just wanted to see the bear pits and the fountain of an ogre eating a baby. The bear pits were a little depressing- one brown bear wandering around apathetically, occasionally sitting for people who gave them the "bear food" that can be purchased there. Lots of cool fountains, but never caught the ogre. Shame. We found a bookstore that had a huge english section and stocked up, despite our wallets screaming in agony. It's paper and ink! how can you people live with yourselves... anyway, our last night in Interlaken, so we headed back to the hostel and talked more with Jenna the canadian and this nice but somewhat creepy missionary (i think) from Kenya. Went back to the bar, but decided to take it much easier- met up with the South Africans again, incredibly nice guys. The Kenyan missionary came down- Father Buzzkill- but went up after realizing it wasn't civilized enough. It wasn't long before we went back up to our room- decided on an early night- but we ended up talking to this really awesome couple in our dorm from Vermont, which spanned a few hours. In the morning we leave for Paris!

Interlaken remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Yesterday was our first full day in Interlaken, so we decided to go to a nearby town called Lauterbrunnen, which is a few hundred meters above us (altitude-wise) in the Alps, and famous for having the highest waterfall in Switzerland. The scenery was gorgeous, even on the train ride up-we had a perfect view of Jungfrau, the highest mountain in the region, right in front of us, and mountains coming up on all sides around us (can you say avalanche insurance?) We were also surrounded by streams coming from the waterfalls and most likely heading toward either of the lakes. Sidenote: The water here is so ridiculously blue it looks fake. All of it- the two lakes, the river, the streams- how do they do that? Anyway, it was sunny and shockingly warm, so we ended up walking around there for a long time. First we climbed up to the waterfall area- it was free and not busy, since we are in the awkward no winter-sports and no summer-sports season. We climbed up these jagged crumbly rocks and into a tunnel that went under the waterfall, which was impressive considering how slippery is was. The views were pretty incredible. Later on, we found ourselves walking past the green pastures and cows and sheep (and baby goats!!) being hopelessly pulled forward by the allure of the Swiss Alps towering before us. Our stomachs broke our trance and we headed back into town for some over-priced fondue... mmm. Something about the Swiss, they are waayy too rich. If you want an affordable dinner, you make it, end of story. So we got some groceries at the Co-Op and made our dinner at the hostel. That night we met a new roommate, Calvin, who was on leave from his tour in Iraq. He ended up being a really cool guy.

I woke up the next day and it was sunny and clear. I had my eye on some extreme craziness-brochures since we got here (I don't want to say extreme sports because I don't think falling is a sport, even if it's from high altitudes) and decided, when in Switzerland, jump off high things. I signed up for bungee jumping, and spent the rest of the morning worrying about it- I've never done anything like that before. Me and Ruaridh decided to go for a walk up to one of the lakes, and the walk was great but we never made it to the full opening of the lake, ha. We turned around, and as we were having lunch, a thick blanket of fog crashed down on Interlaken- the only way to put it because it was so sudden- and the wind picked up, the rain started, etc etc. I was pretty unhappy. For my first time bungee-jumping, I didn't want to plunge into a white impenetrable oblivion. We made our way across the park to the hostel, and I asked if they were canceling the trip at the reception desk. Of course they weren't- and Calvin found this very entertaining, so he decided to come along for the ride- even paid the smirky Australian driver 10 francs to come along. The ride up was an adrenaline rush in itself- our driver blasted some decent fast-paced music and passed cars on blind corners in that "I'm too extreme and Australian to care" sort of way. In the shuttle bus was me, Ruaridh, Calvin, and some scared-looking Asian boy. After picking up a brazilian family on the way, we get to Grindelwald, where our driver asks us if we are bungee jumping or canyon jumping. We all say bungee jumping, at which point he says "no- i think you'll be canyon jumping today." and drives onward. No. No way. Canyon jumping, as described in the brochure, is being attached to a rope hanging at a midpoint a few hundred feet in front and below you, jumping off a cliff, freefalling, then being swung through a narrow canyon when the rope catches. Before I decide it would be safer to flee from the moving van, we crawl to a stop in a clearing in the woods. As a last resort, I fall back to plea with the driver. If he followed suite and shrugged me off, I probably would've refused, but he was actually really nice about it- said I could go up and look around, and if I wasn't comfortable I didn't have to do anything and could get a full refund. At least up here we were above all the fog and rain. So, within twenty minutes I was harnessed up and ready to pass through the gate and onto the platform that I would jump from. The swiss guy who helped secure me to the rope gave me a huge grin and asked if I was ready. Calvin leaped toward the platform, camera in hand, saying "have fun! hahaha!" The Swiss guy let go of the heavy rope, which dragged me toward the edge of the platform. I could see the canyon ahead of me, but couldn't see anything below me. So I jumped! And as soon as my feet left the platform, I completely forgot I was attached to something, only thinking holy crap, I am falling. My heart never raced faster in my entire life. When the rope finally caught, swinging through the canyon was incredible. I was so full of adrenaline that all I could do was lie, limbs sprawled in midair, and look around. I was shaking so badly I could barely move to catch the rope that was pulled clothesline-style so I could pull myself toward the ladder on the side of the canyon. Some of the local alpiners were watching from a walkway, laughing and thumbs-upping me. They were pretty nice, and managed to poke fun at me without a word of english! ha. Two others went after me, and my heart still raced for them. Even though I did it, its scary to see someone fall like that, especially from the bottom. I was still on an adrenaline high when we got back to the hostel, and me and Ruaridh made fondue with white chocolate and bailey's.... mmmm. I tried writing this blog, but my brain was just way to fried. Now I'm actually recalling from a few weeks later! Haha. Anyway, a good day. Me, Ruaridh and Calvin went slopping around the rain that night to get some pizza at the only semi-affordable place in town. Then I went to bed.

Interlaken remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Interlaken remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It's Friday morning, and if this place has one thing, it's pretty amazing views. One thing I didn't to expect looming in the distance, a nuclear power plant. But it certainly made the panorama more interesting. After breakfast, we decide to make the proper descent out of the fortress and go down into Koblenz. There's not much, so we walk back into the city center, and get lunch at a really great turkish place. We take the bus back, and find the entrance for the chair lift up. Ruaridh doesn't look happy about it, but we go anyway- beats the walk up! Tonight we plan our next stop- we decide to book a day in Bacharach, and from there go to Interlaken. I'm alone in my big scary fortress-y room but sleep fine anyways.
The next day, our last full day in Koblenz, we wake up facing white-washed windows and not much else. We are completely enveloped in a thick fog, so I catch up on my blog! Originally we were going to take a Rhine boat trip from the Deutches Eck, but there is no point if we can't see anything, so we both agree that it's no big deal if we don't go out-and-about today. The fog burns off mid-afternoon- right before we die of boredom- so we walk around the fortress grounds a bit. A very uneventful day ahead, tomorrow is Bacharach.

Bacharach is what you picture when you imagine a beautiful little town on the Rhine. I'm so happy we spent the day there, and definitely wished we had more time. We take the morning train from Koblenz to Bacharach, a really scenic route along the Rhine River. We see all the castles dotting the hilltops, and even see Loreley rock, the most visited attraction I think (I'm glad we didn't go out of our way for it though) we get to Bacharach, and walk through what looks like the only street in the town until we see the steps leading up the the castle, perched on the hillside. The walk up was pretty strenuous with our bags, but well worth the view. After checking in, we sat in the courtyard with some tea (I got black forest cheesecake also) and relaxed, with the Rhine river stretching out on either side below us and golden vineyards rising on the hills to our left. We later made the descent into town, realizing we only had the one day, and decided to try some of the local wine- after walking around, I realize that Bacharach must really be a vineyard town, because the street is dotted with winehouses and wagons pass us carrying loads of grapes. We stop at a place suggested by the woman at reception, and I get the Federweisser- the young wine, or "must," that looks like fizzy pineapple juice because it still has yeast. It is very sweet and very delicious. Ruaridh and I split two other ones, then wander the town some more as the sun starts setting, past the little cobblestone streets and hanging grape vines. In the morning, we leave for Switzerland.

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Anyway, after arriving back into the airport-like Berlin Hauptbahnhof (main station), we walk out and see the Reichstag, then down to the Brandenburg Gate, a symbol of Germany unity but also a point that East and West Germany were separated by. I get my passport stamped as a little souvenir at one of the marking points. We walk through the Holocaust memorial to Potsdamerplatz, the mammoth ultra-modern commercial and business center of Berlin. I didn't expect almost *everything* in Berlin to be brand new, but it is. We see parts of the wall erected here and there in the city, and a double line of cobblestone snaking its way through the city marks where the wall once stood. We go to the Topography of Terror, not yet a full exhibit but close, which recounts the terrors of the world wars, the Nazi regime and the construction of the wall. Lining is is a large part of the wall, and Ruaridh finally finds "Glasgow Rangers" spray-painted in blue on one of the panels. His dad offered him $100 if he got a picture with it. That night we meet with Annette, a high-strung German grad student who gives us tour plans for Germany that she had worked on for a long time. She showed us what remained of historic Germany, like this large old house converted into a club/bar/cinema that the government wanted to tear down, but the German youth protested and ended up keeping it. It was pretty crazy- definitely a symbol of the Berlin sub-culture. Next, we saw the last building in Berlin that still had shrapnel and bullet marks in it, which was quite haunting. Afterwards we saw an art exhibit and a Jewish memorial, then started walking back. Annette points out that all Jewish buildings, like the temple, still have cops out in front. She leaves us with a pile of print-outs and itineraries, and grateful, though overwhelmed, we thank her and leave.

Monday morning, and Ruaridh is all the sicker. We had plans to meet a woman named Kersten for lunch, but ended up missing her from our adventure at the post office and getting lost in the campus near her work. After getting some good chinese food, we head back to the hauptbahnhof and pick up Eurail passes for the second half of our trip, which will cover the rest of our major journeys. At almost 400 euro apiece, they're one trip away from paying for themselves (one week later.) Ruaridh is about to keel over so we head back to Potsdam and settle hostel arrangements for our last 2 days in Berlin, since Kusi is having guests the next night.

Tuesday morning we pack our things and head out for Wombat's, our Berlin hostel, and lunch with Kersten. After another go at the post office we finally come out victorious and ship some of the things we no longer need home (finished books, souvenirs etc.) we meet Kersten for our rescheduled lunch, and she is incredibly nice. Afterward we go out for coffee, and she tells us the history of the buildings we pass on the way, and talks about what being educated in East Berlin in the 80s was like- doesn't sound fun. After thanking her and getting our stuff, we head over to Wombat's, our hostel, also very nice, by Alexanderplatz. I didn't realize East Berlin would be so hoppin'- we are surrounded by hostels and bars and clubs. I guess they are really trying to draw in a young crowd here, and they succeeded. Unpacking in our room, I reflect on all my previous assumptions about east Berlin, and how wrong they are- before I see a swastika carved into our coffee table. Ok, so maybe not everything has changed, and maybe East Berlin isn't exactly 'scenic,' but it's certainly fun. We don't partake in the nightlife this time- Ruaridh collapses on the bed, occasionally running to the bathroom, not looking very pleased. We walk down the street to a restaurant called Marrakesh for dinner, and it was really excellent and inexpensive, even though our waiter was a tool. It's already late, and we call it a night, not making any definite plans since Ruaridh doesn't look like he's going anywhere too quickly.

Wednesday morning, and Ruaridh is forcing himself to come out with me- he's starting to feel guilty about everything we've been missing, even though I keep telling him I pulled the same thing in London when I got food poisoning. We walk down to the Museuminsel (museum island i think) with the goal of seeing the Pergamon museum, which turns out to be closed for the 4 or 5 days we are in Berlin. We walk around a bit more in Unter den Linden, the wide street on the east side of the Brandenburg gate that has souvenir shops and huge foreign embassies and some upscale shops. We head back to Alexanderplatz and Ruaridh is starting to feel better, so he eats almost an entire pizza, and we head back to Marrakesh. The same waiter, but much nicer this time for some reason. We get some drinks, and see a few middle-aged woman come in and share a hookah. That was funny. Tomorrow we leave for the Rhine Valley.

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Monday morning, we decide to take a tram ride through Prague and up to the castle. It's really magnificent, as is the Cathedral nearby. We spend most of the day walking around and admiring the centuries-old architecture from a city that has been lucky enough to avoid bombs. We make our way down to the bridge next to Charles Bridge, and see the brightly colored t-shirts of all the tourists snapping pictures of the statues. The bridge, I think, is much prettier from afar, especially since we aren't being herded like sheep. We end up back at our hostel pretty early, and meet a few people at the bar. The beer served at the bar is Urquell's, similar to Guiness in Dublin- it's pretty much the only thing you can get. They also have the local Budvar in 4 variations, which is stronger than normal beer (we find that our pretty quickly.) I ended up talking to two other guys, Keith and Kindler, who end up being pretty cool (originally from jersey, of course.) One day I plan on being as travelled as they are, maybe even live and work somewhere for a year like Keith did in South Africa. Anyway, us, them, Anthony, Colin, Sarah and two Swiss girls our age decide to go out to the famous 5-story club at Charles Bridge, called Karlovy Iazne. It was a blast- it's been so long since I've been out dancing. We spent a lot of time on the retro floor, playing songs like Come On Eileen and songs from "Grease." It was already late, so when it started dying down we went to another place called Bombay. Long story short, we had to leave, and the group of us wandered around a dark, empty Prague, talking and laughing, before going back to the hostel.

The next day we get a pretty late start, but go to see the Old Town Square, the Astronomical Clock, and more wandering. We go back to hang out with the friends we've made over our first couple days, and after a 3-hour long legendary game of Quarters, which ended up involving half the bar and breaking 3 glasses, I decide to skip the clubbing and go to bed "early" around 12:30AM.

Wednesday is our last day in Prague, and we take care of some practicalities and enjoy the company of our dormies, including a girl from South Korea named Nel who just moved in. After sewing up a few holes in my jeans, we head into what I suppose is the commercial hub of Prague, just after the Old Town Square. I get a new pair of jeans since all the thread in the world won't hold mine together for much longer. We get some excellent, cheap Czech food (despite the location)- cabbage soup in a bread bowl and some sausage-y stuff. Note: If you are a vegetarian, good luck in the Czech Republic. And Germany. So it's our last night, and we return to the hostel to hang out with our friends before we all depart in the morning. Keith, Kindler and Eric missed their flight, so they are back to party with us as well. A new group of girls from Nevada showed up, they were kind of annoying, but came out with us for the first part of the night. Before leaving the hostel around 12, we all had a glass of absinthe (the proper way) and then hit the road for a long night ahead. Long story short (and sparing the parents reading my blog) we had a lot of fun, went to a lot of clubs, and got in around 6. Needless to say, the group of us in 201- me, Ruaridh, Anthony, Colin, and Nel, all slept in past check-out, and missed our first train. We eventually drag ourselves to the station- the guys are also headed to Berlin. The train ride through the Czech Republic was not what I expected- some was stereotypical Eastern Europe, gray, dilapidated and graffitied, but some looked like it belonged in a story book- one city we passed, Usti, had these beautiful, ancient looking houses atop rolling red hills over a river. After a few hours, we arrive in Berlin and say our good-byes to the guys and exchange information. We are actually staying in Potsdam with (drum roll) a friend of Ruaridh's dad- after this, we are on our own until my family in Lisbon.

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Munich remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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We awake to cold, wind and rain- typical Dutch weather from what we hear. We take a train into the city center, and decide to walk around for a while anyway. Everyone who isn't Dutch seems to be an American tourist- I don't know why. We walk around a while since the rain lets up, and end up going through the Red Light District in the daytime- very..interesting? We work our way out and into a small concentration of streets, reeking of marijuana. All of the cafes that offer marijuana are called "Koffeehaus"es. It's so strange, mixing such a beautiful city with so much vice. An interesting mix, refreshingly honest. We head into a place called The Paradise something-or-other and go for it. The weather continues to suck, so we head back to Abcoude shortly after.

The next day, we decide to do some actual touring, so we take a boat tour through the canals. Something we soon realize about mainland Europe- now we are foreigners, and people will try to rip you off. Ugh. Mostly by not giving the right change, but we got smart on that after the first time. The tour was in 4 different languages consecutively, which made for a very noisy trip, and they actually overpacked the boat- some people who got on late didn't have seats (another example of ripping off tourists.) Still, it was a really cool way to see the nice parts of Amsterdam, and we got to see the Anne Frank house. Afterwards we went into a coffeeshop and got a milkshake, which we hear is legendary, and it was. Some women, who look like they could be our mothers, go into the smoking room below us, and we watch them talking, laughing, sharing a joint. That was different. We still have a few hours before we want to head to the RDL, so we catch a movie at one of these Pathe movie theaters. This place looks like a club- there is even a bar in the lounge waiting area. We see tropic thunder, and I keep catching myself trying to read the subtitles instead of listening to the English. Afterwards we go to see the Red Light District in all its glory- it was nuts. Yes, there were some seedy Dutch guys walking around looking for business, but it was also fun to see middle-aged tourists walking around just to get a kick out of it. Many of the girls looked like they were my age, which was pretty depressing. Guys on the side of the street kept trying to make eye contact, or call us over- technically hard drugs aren't legal in Amsterdam, but they flow pretty freely anyway. Guys casually walk by us offering cocaine. It's just a totally different world. We head out of the area to a really cool little bar called the Green Light District that has hookah and cheap drinks. It's not a coffeeshop, but people are smoking it anyway- you can legally smoke pot anywhere in Amsterdam, and the people clearly make sure they cover all bases. We head back, planning out our last day in Amsterdam.

It's October 2nd, and we are scheduled to leave on a night train to Munich, quite out of our way, to catch the last couple days of Oktoberfest. We go back into the city one last time to pick up some souvenirs and a couple more books at the American book center. To avoid buying bongs or wooden clogs, which is the major base of souvenir sales, apparently, we get some sew-on patches and head to the bookstore. It's in a nice area of town- we pick up a Europe Travel book to save some money (we've been buying books city-by-city) and the next two installments of Meg, a suspense-thriller that I got Ruaridh hooked on (hooray!)

The night train to Munich, well... we won't be taking night trains again, most likely. The train is about an hour late, which is no big deal, but we get on and see exactly what we paid $450 for- three bunked matts against each wall, with enough standing room for me and Ruaridh, and just enough room to slide in your bunk and sleep. We are shortly joined by a couple from Brazil, and they are incredibly nice. A short, fat woman with short grey hair walks past us, and shouts something in German, motioning us back into the cramped space. She then says in english "stay in until I come check tickets" so we hang around for a bit, talking, trying to shove our bags somewhere. She comes back, and when we ask her if the train is stopping anywhere she ignores us and walks by. She graces us later when she walks into the dining cabin, making a scene about how we were sharing a bottle of wine the Brazilians brought, and made us leave (even though the other woman said it was OK.) We give up and try to sleep, but I end up staying awake all night, because we stopped abut every 20 minutes to load and unload passengers. At about 3 or 4 in the morning another person came in our cabin, and another around 6. We were walking dead on our feet when we got to the train station. Ok, lesson learned- no-more-night-trains. And, time to invest in a Railpass soon.

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The first couple days of London gave us typical London weather- gray, rainy, and cold. We decided to see the big museums and indoors-y attractions, hoping the weather would clear up after a while. On the 23rd we saw the British Museum- it was more expansive than I'd imagined. You could easily spend a week in there. First we saw the Rosetta Stone- just barely because of the swarms of school groups and aggressive tourists. We decided to see the Hadrian exhibit, featuring newly discovered information and artifacts. It was actually really cool to see the kinds of things they had uncovered. At the end, we were interviewed by a woman who presumably wanted to see if we were shocked by the information on his homosexuality. We told her it was nothing new and moved on, trying to narrow down a sliver of the museum we would want to focus on. That wasn't too hard- British Museum means lots of mummies! I think for a while that museum and the one in Cairo were the only ones with uncovered mummies on display. Not surprisingly, they were pretty grotesque, but very interesting. We even saw a mummified cat. After that we went through the Greek/Roman section, which is always fascinating- kouros sculptures, old coins, huge amphorae with gods and goddesses and mythical scenes painted on them- always the most interesting section (for me.) After the museum we had some overpriced sushi and went to the British Library, but only to the artifact room as we were running out of time. We saw everything from ancient maps to original Shakespeare publications to original lyrics by the Beatles. We spent quite a while there as well. After that, we dragged ourselves (and our swollen brains) back to Gail's.

The next day was also pretty rainy, so we made our way back into the center of London and decided to see the aquarium. Honest opinion? Camden is much better. It was still a relaxing way to kill a few rainy hours. Afterwards we head to the Tate Modern, and I realize I simply do not have an appreciation for some modern "art." We went in with an open mind, following the crowds of visitors and being tailed by a very English girl- "I KNOoooww, don't you just Loove it here, I could spend the whole day, just OHHLlll these TOUURrrists..." at this point me and Ruaridh realized there is nothing more annoying than a posh english accent. We get to one of the floors, and some of the art is actually something I would consider art. Picasso-esque. Some things disturbing, some photography, but I'm still steadfastly denying the fact that most of it is crap. We get to one redeeming room with some really beautiful artwork, but then move on to- my favorite- the minimalist stuff. A painted canvas. A misshapen rectangle of white paper. A block of metal. Poorly attempting to stifle our laughter, me and Ruaridh leave, deciding that Tate Modern, if anything, gave us a good laugh. We get back to Rayne's Park pretty early, so we decide to head next door into Wimbledon and find a bar or a cafe or something. We have some great wine- a Rioja Crianza. After a bit my stomach starts to bother me and we head back.

London, what a place to come down with food poisoning (or whatever I got). I spend the entirety of the 25th in bed, with the exception of running to the store and getting some fresh air and Powerade. But the next day we are both antsy from boredom and end up doing quite a bit- we take a trip up the London Eye in the morning, and get some great views of the Parliament building and Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Thames, etc. We walk along the Thames to the Tower Bridge (really amazing in person) and see the HMS Belfast and some other cool stuff, including Shakespeare's Globe- I book me and a reluctant Ruaridh some standing tickets for Timon of Athens on the next day. We cross the bridge and decide to tour the Tower of London, which was really fascinating. They still have the ravens on the ground (they bite.) After seeing the crown jewels, we take a bus into Piccadilly Circus, and walk around to Regent's St. until it's well after dark. London seems like it must be a blast at night- I wished we had more time, but at this point we have 2 more days until we leave for Amsterdam.
Saturday I'm not feeling too great again, but we make it out to see Timon of Athens, a play of Shakespeare's that hadn't been performed during his time because of it's harsh criticism of the aristocracy of his day. It was really fun- even Ruaridh admitted to enjoying it! (Gasp.) I get pretty sick midway, so we leave at intercession, and I explain to Ruaridh that the second half is classical Shakespearian tragedy. After eating a bit, we walk around a lot and I feel a bit better- we head to Trafalgar Square and see the National Gallery. Some original works of Da Vinci, Michaelangelo, etc. We move past the vast amounts of seriously religious work into some beautiful landscapes, but have to leave as the gallery closes.

The 28th arrives, and it's our last day in London. Tonight we take an overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland, and then a train to Amsterdam Centraal. We miss the changing of the guard in the morning, but head into St. James Park to see the Palace anyway. The park is really beautiful. Lots of fearless squirrels, ducks and swans (captive?) There are even- no joke- Pelicans. From a bridge over the lake you can see the London Eye. We walked up to the Palace- only 2 guards on duty. The palace is pretty huge, but the surrounding area, the fountain and the gates are much more attractive. We wander the park a little more and then head back to Rayne's Park to pack- our train from London leaves at 8:30PM. The train ride seems to go smoothly, and the ferry we are on is really nice. Me and Ruaridh are giddy for our next adventure, and run around the ferry like hyper children. The set-up of the ferry reminds us of the boat we had in Greece senior year, with all our friends. We have a drink and head to sleep, and 4 or 5 hours later we get our obnoxious wake-up call and head to our next train.

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Last time I wrote, I was happy and on the ferry to Holyhead, Wales. We were told by an Irish Ferries staff guy that our ferry would arrive around midnight at Holyhead and the train to London would depart at 2AM, which we were fine with. After waiting a bit at the Holyhead station, we started to get nervous and asked a staff member when the train was arriving. He said the next train wasn't until 9:56AM. Ruaridh comes back with the news, and I was furious. I tried not to think about how many times we got screwed in the past several hours, and tried to fall asleep in the metal chairs. Some drunk kids in club clothes wandered in and out around 3 or 4, and I finally get up around 6:30AM. Even though our train was late, and we had to transfer here and there, we eventually made our way to Gail's.

After a shower and a hot meal, I felt great. Last night I didn't wake up once after hitting the pillow, which I don't think has happened in months. Overall, I think we got a lot of positive out of the big s#*& storm that was Dublin- I'm just glad that for a while we have stable, free accommodation (no haunted chapels or train stations.) Hooray for London!

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---The Bad Stuff----
Last night and this morning, we checked for hostels, hotels, B&Bs- Dublin is booked. So we decide to leave, and exchange our ferry tickets for today. We go to the travel center to do so. It's closed. We call the company and they tell us to do it later. We go around Dublin, are told to be at our stop by 7PM for bus 53. The driver tells us its over a mile walk from where he stops. Yes, we were misinformed by the bus station customer service lady. We start to get nervous and take a cab. The main ferry road is closed. We end up paying 36 euro for the roundabout ride, plus 6 for tunnel tolls (one we had to go through because we couldn't make a u-turn...) Now we are on the boat, and happy to leave Dublin, the rip-off capital of the world. F*** Dublin.

---To Resume the Entry-----
This morning was beautiful- warm, clear and sunny. We decided to see the south side, like Grafton Street, Temple Bar and the Castle. After a few little bumps I mentioned, we get going and walk around Grafton St- a really cool area with a ton of street performers and vendors. From there we ended up at Steven's Green, a really beautiful park where young couples, artists and families laid out on the grass. I got a celtic ring from a vendor, and when I mentioned the nice weather, he said the last time they had a nice day like this was the 6th of August. We wandered the funky Temple Bar area, and hit a pub on the way back. We may have been in Dublin for 2 days, but we still had to go see an Irish pub. Unfortunately even a dive didn't serve a beer for less than 5 euro, but we bit the bullet and decided in Dublin you were either wealthy or homeless. After a drink, we started our goose chase, but that's in the past. Despite the hold-ups, it was actually a great day. I'm just happy to return to a free bed and some decent rest. London ho!

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More Time in Fewer Places.
It's taking us about 2 full days to travel from London to Dublin and back. We left 4 days for Dub. That makes for 2 days to see the city. Oops.

Have an Escape Plan
....
Or Don't Stay With People Who Just Seem "A Little Crazy"
....
So me and Ruaridh read this CouchSurfer profile, a nice-looking older woman named Glenda. She said she lived in "primitive" conditions, so be warned, etc. We shouldn't of taken that lightly... I wish I took pictures of this place. I'll get into that.

Book in Advance... Always
Dublin.. big city and lots of places to stay, right? Not. A football match sold out the town and we have nowhere to stay tomorrow night. That's a triple oops... hehe...

Bring Your Flip-Flops
It's just a couple days, so I didn't think I'd need them. Except for showers... sigh.

I'm going to start with last night and our stay with Glenda & Friends. We entered Dublin city center around 6, and followed the necessary directions to her house. So far they seem like cute little cottages, until we get to number 9- a paint-pealed little unit with faded posters in the window. I peer in, and it looks like a storage shed. We assume we are mistaken, but I look in the window on the other side of the door and see lights on, and people. I knock on the door harder, and Glenda opens it- she seems really friendly, all smiles and "come in"s. In the kitchen-ish place, there is an elderly skinny man with tie-dye handkerchief on his head, and a man in his 20s in gothic clothes. We look around... there are high ceiling that look like all of the pieces were about to fall on us. Thick, dusty knots of cobwebs hung from every corner. some weird new-agey music was on. We are given tea, and I try not to freak out. I ask about the history of the house, and Glenda informs me "its a renovated old church from the Weslyans, about 200 years old. But I found rooms under the chapel filled with sand, which aren't in the blueprints. So I assume that bit is older."
"Probably small catacombs," the goth chimes in sagely, with a brogue.
She goes on to tell us all the ghostly happenings in the house, and how they just finished shooting a horror movie there. We are offered tea.
Soon, we are led up the stairs, giving severely under our steps, to our room. She tells us there is a mattress on the floor- we get to a room filled with weird clothes, creepy dolls, and other stuff. The cracked walls are painted roughly with trees and a sun and whatnot, but it looks like pieces are missing. Glenda brings are attention to the absence of the right wall, not even slightly hidden by some small blankets hung on a sagging rope. She parts them, and tells us cheerfully that we are looking down at the old chapel, and describes their plans to turn it into a theater. She left us to settle, and me and Ruaridh look at each other for a while. Then I freak out a bit.

I basically yammer on for 15 minutes about how we can't stay in a creepy platform above an abandoned church, and he tries to calm me down, and basically have committed ourselves for the night, and she mentioned having other couple staying there earlier in the week. Not even close to calming down yet, we set out to get some food and fresh air. I feel bad- Ruaridh didn't want to stay with her in the first place, and I kind of talked him into it. While we were out, we came up with an excuse to leave first thing in the morning. Later that night, the younger one keeps us up talking about philosophy, and we explain to them that we need to leave Dublin in the morning. Upstairs, I have a fitful nap and wake up around 3AM. Ruaridh is soundly sleeping next to me, and I am a bit jealous. I may have harassed him a bit through the night with "you awake? just checking" like a little girl at a sleepover. I ended up staying up, reading a bit, til it was light, and soon after we left fairly abruptly.

Not much to say after that. Found a hostel, sorted out our way off the island for Sunday. Saw the Guiness Factory and the Kilmainham Gaol (jail.) Now at said hostel. Tomorrow should be fun, though, and I'm looking forward to a decent sleep.

P.S-about 500 pictures yet to be loaded. Another oops..

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We make it another lazy morning, since we anticipated finding this "Rail-Sail Dublin" discount would be a serious labor. It wasn't- it took us 5 minutes in Waterloo Station, actually- so we spent the rest of the day walking around central London, taking this bus and that since we got a full day pass. After wandering around the London Eye/Parliament area, we catch a bus that goes past Regent's St. into an area known as "Little Cairo" (if I'm not mistaken) because of the high Arabic population. We come across the busiest restaurant in the area, and decide its probably worthwhile, so we get a seat outside. It's called Sidi Maasoufi, and we get tea, hummous and a hookah. All of it was great. We end up spending a lot of time talking to our waiter, a guy from Syria, who tells us Americans are much easier to understand than the local Londoners, especially since he was still trying to learn English. We get in fairly late, and pack our bags to leave for Dublin in the morning- our train from Euston is at 9AM, so we need to be out by 7:30.

And now I write from the train to Holyhead, Wales, where we will get our ferry over. Again, I'm so glad I caught up, but doing so I realize I have no idea what we are doing when we arrive at Dublin Port. I guess call this lady I got in touch with, and get there first. But after that, no ideas either. I guess I should go through that guide book.

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We didn't do much of anything on the next day, because Ruaridh informs me that there is, in fact, nothing to do. It's gray and rainy for the duration of our stay, which Granny tells me is nothing new for East Kilbride. Ruaridh's uncle Andy comes to pick us up for dinner, and when Ruaridh tells him that we stayed in because it was raining, he looked pretty disgusted. He just kept saying "you stayed in..... because it was raining?" I guess that sounds pretty stupid here. Before leaving, I am given ample warning about Auntie Titia - Ruaridh tells me "she's.... eh... she's a bit crazy, but she's really nice." and her sister, Ruaridh's Granny, tells me that she's one who knows everything about everyone, and enjoys imparting her wisdom on people. Right on the money! We get there, and she's excited to see Ruaridh and meet me. She offers me a large selection of drinks, and even though I didn't feel like one I eventually gave up and accepted. Ruaridh's 7-year old cousin Ben was the cutest kid I've ever seen, and went on to lengthily describe the war he was setting up between his army men. We talked to him for a while about Harry Potter and Star Wars and such, which he describes as "brilliant." How cute! We sat down at the dinner table with Ruaridh's aunt and uncle, his cousin Andrea and her partner Fraser. Aunt Titia is running all over the place preparing dinner, which I am told is roast beef and yorkshire pudding. I go to ask Ruaridh what yorkshire pudding is, and I'm met with looks of bewilderment around the table. Titia doesn't believe me when I'm told we don't have them back home and I've never seen one in my life. They were actually really good- chewy crunchy pastry like bowls, I guess. (I asked Ruaridh and he basically shrugged and said it's hard to explain.) The red table wine was really good, but every time I turned around Titia was telling someone to fill my glass. When I forgot how many glasses I had, I told her that Ruaridh would have to scrape me off the floor if I had any more- she found this funny, and said I could do another. Andrea was hilarious, and called me a "creamless pie freak" when I didn't understand having plain double cream on top of pie. I laughed so hard I started crying (mind you I had like 4 glasses of wine by then) but everyone else was laughing pretty hard too. We didn't actually leave until after 11PM, but I had such a good time. I guess I don't scare as easily as Ruaridh anticipated.

The next day we sleep in, walk to the "town center" (the mall) and come back to do more nothing. We picked up some travel guides for London and Dublin, I meet some more family, and head to bed early-all the grayness and rain still takes it out of me. The next day is similar, some wandering, and Titia and Andy come over to say goodbye since we were leaving first thing in the morning. Uncle Andy laughs along with me and Ruaridh while the two sisters roll their cigarettes and go on and on about the old town doctor and such. In the morning, we leave for London, and have no idea how to get over to Dublin. Luckily, Ruaridh's dad's friend has a place in London, and we set off to stay with her while we get our heads together.

East Kilbride and the Gallaghers remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Now I am in the hostel lounge, and glad that I'm all caught up with my blog. I get so carried away with details :-P Shame I have no internet access. I wonder when this will be loaded. Tomorrow - the distillery!!

Another day in Oban, and a lot more catching up to do. A pound per 20 minutes of internet access really shied us away from the computer, except for the necessary stuff. The day was clear and sunny, so we decided to climb up to McCraig's tower, which sits on a hill overlooking the little port town. The way up was nice- we took steep, narrow stairways up a street lined with pretty white houses, most of them bursting with colorful gardens at every angle. I didn't realize this environment could sustain such exotic looking plants. The views from the tower were really great, and we started our descent, heading for the Oban Distillery. The guy directing our tour looked barely old enough to drink himself, but he was very informative. Interesting tour, great experience, but unfortunately the smell of whiskey still makes my stomach churn a bit. Afterwards we headed to the Oban Chocolate shop and wandered a bit, deciding to go to the Ceilidh house later in the evening. Ruaridh wasn't exactly looking forward to it, but he ended up having a really good time. There was a woman singing Gaelic songs and Wild Mountain Time- one I recognized from parties at the Gallagher's back in New Jersey. The house was pretty empty, so when people had to go up and do the group dances, we were more or less forced, but it ended up being really fun since no one really knew what they were doing. The bartender was another really young-looking kid, and we ended up talking for a bit after the show. We walked back to the hostel, and packed to leave for East Kilbride.

Oban to East Kilbride isn't exactly a frequented route- we had two bus times, and opted for the afternoon. After checking out of our hostel, we hopped on one of those silly bus tours (because it was free with our departing bus ticket) and it ended up being pretty cool. It stopped in this impossibly tiny town called Seil Island, and I'm pretty sure there were a few houses and then a tourist store- that was it. We got out, and were greeted at the door of the shop with free tea or coffee, and then a girl handing out shortbread, and later on a woman passing around samples of Scottish butter tablet (which is basically a block of slightly caramelized sugar and butter.) The both of us were pretty taken aback by the friendliness of the people working there. We tried some whiskey-flavored cheese, which is awesome by the way, and got back on the bus into Oban. I think, during the circuit, we saw like 30 churches. When we got back we just wandered in and out of the little shops, and walked up and down the town center for a while. Next- East Kilbride to meet more of Ruaridh's family!

Oban remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Last I left off, we were leaving Clydebank/Glasgow for Inverness. We took a morning train in, and had some pretty amazing views - it was really cool to see the transition from the lowlands to the highlands. After about an hour, we found ourselves surrounded by huge green hills on either side, shrouded in mist - herds of shaggy, orange Highlands cows (actually called "folds" if they are highland cows for some reason) herds of sheep running away from the train, rabbits, little deer, hawks - I can't believe how much wildlife we saw. Side note - I know it's a Scottish stereotype, but I've never seen more sheep in my life. If there is a plot of grass here, there will be sheep on it. I think there are more sheep than people.

But anyways, we finally got into Inverness, and first sought out to find our hostel. Inverness is a lovely little city - there is a castle, of course, and there was some sort if small festival, where food vendors, jewelry makers, and performers, that we passed through on the way to Eastgate Backpackers. Wow, we thought - what a great location, right in the middle of the action. We climb up the flights to the reception, where a girl who spoke very poor english told us we were only booked for the next night. It took a while to get everything sorted, but they found a place to squeeze us (quite literally). We walk up another flight, and notice the hostel is very colorful - funny paintings on the wall, etc - and finally get to our room. It's very cramped - two full beds on the bottom with twins on the top. There are groceries covering the only countertop, and other people's stuff on our bed - not to mention 40s tucked into a few corners of the room. The first roommate we meet is very friendly - he tells us in broken English that he and the rest of the bunkmates are from Hungary, and are there to work. The girl from reception comes back in to change our bedding, and we notice that the changed bedding is still a little dirty. Well, we decided to get a cheap hostel, and we did. The last straw, however, was the lack of security - all the 4 lockers were occupied, and we didn't exactly feel welcome. Two of the other hungarian bunkmates were leaning in the doorframe, rolled cigarettes in hand, staring at us and talking in their native language. Every time I looked up, this one skinny little creep was staring back. We went for a walk to get some fresh air, silent from our obvious disappointment. I see another hostel - Highlanders hostel - and we brighten up, deciding to take a look. We explain our situation to the guy at reception, and he laughs when we mention Eastgate - "Dodgy fawkin' place, in't it?" He promises to match their very cheap price, and we move our stuff right in. Everyone is very friendly - even the loads of French hostelers. We decide to wander around town, and end up walking around the Ness Islands, cheery from our improved situation and the lovely natural scenery.

After browsing the brochures in the Tourist Information center, we sign up for a tour of Jon O'Groats for my birthday. Jon O' Groats is the northernmost point of mainland UK, right below Orkney. It is known for having some brochs - ruins of villages and homes from 5,000 years ago - and really incredible scenery. The tour leaves at 9AM, so we tuck in early and get a good night's sleep. We get up, groggy from a typical hostel night's sleep, and depart with a group of adventurous old people, one awkward kid from Hong Kong, and a very stuffy tour guide. As usual, we saw like 10,000 sheep, a bunch of cows, and hoards of "common seals" basking on the coast. The trip was amazing - the broch we saw was on a cliff above the sea, and with a very grand-looking castle off in the distance. Jon O'Groats was incredible - we could've easily spent a day there. The cliffs we like fancy high-rise apartments for all the birds, the water was bright blue, and from the pictures you would've thought it was some exotic locale in the Carribbean. We saw a bunch of grey seals playing far below in the water- they kept popping up their heads to look at us. Later that night, we went out to a take away place and these sketchy-looking locals started chatting us up- they were actually hysterical, and kept us there for a while. One of them was missing his two front teeth, and kept doing vampire impressions. The second told us that while we were in town, we need to visit Skye, where he and his family live, and we would be welcome any time.

The next day was our last in Inverness, and we wanted to see the infamous Loch Ness. It was a beautiful day - sunny and 70s, actually- and the Loch was really beautiful. We decided our "starting point" would be Urquhart Castle - I put it in quotes because it was our only point. We gave ourselves several hours to explore the area before our bus left for Fort William, not yet realizing that Loch Ness is bordered almost completely by sidewalk-less road, and there's no way to leave the castle grounds further along the loch once you're there. Still, the castle was incredible, and we had a lot of fun.
Our next stop was Fort William - the views of the different lochs and hills on the way was pretty crazy. Ben Nevis looms over us as we enter a now-drizzly Fort William, and we realize that other than the nature trails, there-is-nothing-to-do. Around 6 we meet our next host, Abbe, and her roommates, Chris and Mark. There are about our age, and are students in Boston working abroad. They all were really hysterical, especially because the way they bantered and picked on each other reminded me of my friends at home- Mark was incredibly friendly, and Abbe seemed to be much more withdrawn from us, but we felt very comfortable there in the american bubble that was their home. Still, the morning brought nothing but more wind and rain, so we decided to pack up and head on. After scrambling for accommodation and trying to find *anything* leaving the little highland town, we run for last-minute bus to our next stop, Oban.

Ahh, its nice to have that all down. I just have to load the couple hundreds of pictures now, heh.

The Highlands remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Next we planned on attending the Braemar Highland games, but it's proving to be much to hard to get to- it's this tiny little town with no train station, and neither of us are old enough to rent a car. Sadly, we have to give up. I'm so sad!! I was really looking forward to seeing that. Ah, well. Next stop is Inverness and Loch Ness. I plan on riding Nessie over to Ireland afterwords =)

Loch Lomond remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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For Ruaridh's take on the trip (and his nifty Mac website) http://web.mac.com/ruaridh.gallagher/Europe/Welcome.html

Glasgow and Edinburgh Fireworks remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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So.. that should hint at what an eventful day it's been.
The weather, as usual, crap. I don't think I have to say it anymore. We've been hanging out, Ruaridh fiddling with his glitchy .Mac blog, and me creating this. Now we are upstairs, I'm having a glass of wine and preparing for going back into Edinburgh tomorrow. We are going to go in a little early to do some of the tourist-y things we missed, and will later meet Graham on the Princes St. Gardens to see the fireworks/ music show that blow off from the castle. I can't wait to get some amazing pictures!!!

That's all for now - I realize I may not have a chance to update my blog every day like I have done (just did, really) but I really wanted to get this started up.
Until tomorrow!

Staying home in Clydebank (Glasgow suburb) remains copyright of the author rwills89, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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