Dear Europe,
I swear I arrived just a few days ago.
I was terrified of you before I came here. Did you know that? I thought of your history and our reputation and all I could think would be that I would show up and everything would go wrong. I thought no one would like me, and I definitely didn't plan on going out and engaging other people in conversation or that I would make friends. All I thought of was keeping my head down, seeing as much as I could, and seeing what the experience was like. I didn't even know what extra things I would try to see. If you had told me before I left U.S. soil that I would see Greece, the UK, Germany, the Czech Republic, and lay eyes on Slovakia when I came to Poland, I would have only been able to blink in vague shock. If you had told me I'd have to go through Warsaw so much I'd be sick of it, I would never have believed you. If you told me I would be as sad to see Europe go as I was scared to leave America, I would've shrugged you off.
You were a dream of mine, Europe. I'm not done travelling yet, but you were a dream. All my life I've listen to various people talk about "oh when I was in such-and-so", and now I can be a such-and-so person. I can talk about my trip to Prague, and the cool Brits I met there on a stag. I can talk about the old Scot man I pissed off in a bar by not being conservative enough and arguing with him about his beliefs. I can talk about the James Herriot museum, and my trip to Scarborough when I met a drunk old man in a graveyard, and he was more respectful of his surroundings that a well-dressed posh little girl. I can talk about all the wall art in Berlin, and compare it to the graffiti in Athens. I can talk about how, no matter where I went, if I at least attempted a few words in that country's language, I got a smile and a compliment. I can also talk about how most of the people who met me more than once liked me, and a few even thought I was funny enough to be a comedian professionally.
You were more than a dream, though. You were a clarion call and a galvanizing force. A long time ago, I was in love with someone. He once asked me what I wanted to do for spring break, for a week off school and work. I responded with a long shot- something I'd always wanted to do. "Let's go to Ireland." And I'll be damned if he didn't respond "Okay", and we went. When that relationship ended, I felt like I had been buried. I didn't know what to expect, everything was new and also awful, because it came with a tag that said "it's new because a major force in your life is now gone". Everything I did or thought had to be reoriented in terms of how and why I thought. I had to get used to myself again, as my own driving force. And doing that was driving me mad. Travelling abroad was something i'd wanted to do anyway. But it was one of the few things that stood independent of this relationship.
I'm not normally one to run away from my problems, but I latched onto studying in Europe like a lifesaver in a sea of confusion and monotony. apart from the dream to travel, School is one of the only major investments I've made in myself (does a tattoo count?). Combining the two somehow made finding some way to make it happen as critical as breathing. I became deaf to suggestions that I wait a year, or that I pick a different country, or that I alter this one pipe dream in any way. Poland was my raft. My one dream that I wouldn't compromise on. I needed it in a way that I couldn't convey to others, because all i really knew is that the idea of altering it filled me with an angry panic the spilled out as defensive denials. I heard naysayers from all sides, and was never able to tell them "I need this for me. I need this so I won't do insane. I need this because it means my life will move forward the way I want it to. I need this because it means I'm driving my life, it's not driving me."
Through the random difficult things I've had to weather, from creative thinking to letting go of control (sometimes you just have to spend too much money. shit happens, and that is why it is essential to not spend everything), to handling a crisis (yes i can drive 6 hours at a moment's notice. Yes I can rebook a ticket for a train i scheduled at the wrong time. yes i can ask a total stranger for directions when i am completely lost. yes i can handle a completely new country by myself as long as i have GPS.), I've learned that while i do rely on people (my friends, for encouragement, my parents, for perspective.), the person i most rely on is myself. And this is important, because I didn't know what i was capable of. You were as much of a risk as you were a dream, Europe. You were a challenge as much as as a goal.
Now i tear up when i look out the window and realize i may never see that view again. I don't say goodbye to my friends, because even though i never expected to make them, now it hurts to think i may never see them again. i come home tomorrow, and as much as i'm excited to go home and see my family, it means that my dream is ending and it's time to wake up. It means that i have to find some way to fit all of my souvenirs into my luggage, because i really don't want to have to buy a suitcase when i feel like i purchased less things than most of the people i know. i also have to pack them well, so that even if the airline throws things around and customs goes through my stuff (which it at least did when i returned from Ireland,) the three mugs and a wineglass i got won't get broken. (two of the mugs and the wine glass were gifts.)
Europe has changed me. at least physically. My legs are more toned than they've been in years, my feet are tougher, my hair is longer, my paleness is... well it's slightly less pale, sort of? I have more and less pride as an American. I have more and less knowledge of other countries. I have more foreign phrases in my brainpan, that's for sure. I'm considered sort of cool automatically for being American, and yet i consider others cool; so there's a lot more mutual admiration happening in my interactions that i expected. I'm filled with respect for other people's national problems. And i expected them to scoff at mine. Debates prove lively and non-judgmental. Explaining my education system down to the government level made me realize how much more about my country i knew than i thought. It also made others think that i studied political science because "you're so convincing."
Your people are beautiful. I don't know what you've done in your hemisphere to end up wrecking the genetic bell-curve, but well done.
Mostly I will be sad to go. I won't know how much I've learned until i go back home and need to use it, but i know that i fell in love with you and will miss you greatly. I know that having one more sleep til homeness is going to be hard. I know that fitting Becca's fucking present somewhere is going to be a pain in my ass. (seriously i may need to open it to reconfigure it so... yeah.)
Mostly i just wish i had the words to thank a place itself. Every single person i met (save 2 or 3) was amazing, and i feel grateful for the opportunity to have met them. I expected a cool experience. I expected to learn. I expected that much, i suppose.
I didn't expect a place and new people to fill my heart. I didn't expect my heart to be so big it felt like it had two homes. I didn't expect to be so sad to go.
But i will be.
I love you, Europe.
And you, Poland. I think I'll miss you most of all.
Thank you.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Do I regret Belin
I mean I can't, really. My parents told me to see as much of Europe as I possibly could while I was over here. And i have done that to the best of my ability. But I am tired. And I am burnt out. And I want to come home. I am filled with apprehension at the thought of leaving krakow. I love it in krakow. But Europe has done me well and it is time to hug my mom and dad again. It's time to play spelunky. It's time to spread my gifts around.
Berlin was a last minute change from Romania. Romania's outside of schengen, and so it would have been very difficult to get there if we HAD a car or bus or train. That wouldn't take basically the ENTIRE WEEKEND to get there.
90% of the cars in eastern Europe are manual. I have driven a manual exactly once and so I could probably figure it out if my life depended on it, but the ENTIRE WORLD would be safer if I stayed in a manual. (Keep that in mind, it comes up later.) So instead we thought about going up to see more of Poland, but because of lack of automatic cars and the busses and trains taking too long, what if we just went straight to Berlin?
We booked a hostel and bussed it.
My computer FUBAR'ed itself wednesday evening, I took it in Thursday morning, and they said they would call me Friday to let me k ow what was wrong with it and how much it would be to fix it. So here I am, freaking out about money, my computer, my final essay being due, and three entire tripe changers one on top of the other. I had been booking everything when my computer gave out, so I let the friend of mine who I'd be travelling with get the tickets.
When we got to Berlin, we found out the hostel we booked was about 25 miles out of the way and renting a car was out. When we asked a taxi driver, he got us a room but the internet was spotty in that room. The first day we just recovered because I had not slept at all. The second day we walked for hours and hours until I couldn't walk anymore. Probably 6ish hours, total. We saw the wall, various buildings, an awesome flea market with cool antiques and paraphernalia from the Nazis, Soviet occupation, and coins from all over the world.
Today we saw more stuff but when we got to the bus station to bus home, it turned out she had booked it for Monday. I had been sitting all weekend on her dime, because I couldn't get Euro out of a polish ATM and I hadn't told my bank I would be in Germany so it wouldn't work. So there we are, stranded, and we can't buy tickets last minute for that bus, or the next one, so Ivana says "lets get to a car rental place and you can drive so you don't miss your final on Monday.
We sit in the busses station looking for rental place after rental place (remember the whole manual/automatic problem?) Before we find ONE PLACE that has an automatic, and I am trying quietly to make mild comments and make jokes to ease the tension we both feel, before I say "Just get the phone number and give me your phone and I will call." Because she is having trouble trying to book it over her phone's internet.
I call and some woman from Oklahoma helps me book it. It'll be about €450, and i'm looking at Ivana like 'I CAN'T AFFORD. THAT SHIT!' and she is like "do it. What choice do we have? We can't stay here all night!". So i do, and we use MORE money to make it to the rental place via taxi. When we get there and the 45 mi utes it takes the super nice ladies to find out reservation (Oklahoma had booked us for TOMORROW), scrap it (it wouldn't rent is the car until TOMORROW,) and restart the whole thing ended is up with a price of about €700.
Now, they knocked it down for us by having us rent per km instead of for time, but if e erythinf went right it was still €550 and I have my computer to think of and the rest of the weekend. My cheap Berlin weekend just more-than-doubled-down in one, small, incredibly stressful hour.
I will be paying Ivana back in installments after I get home. Along with my parents this is my nightmare.
That said, Berlin is beautiful. The wall is amazing. The architecture is incredible, and I emailed my prof and she is being incredibly nice about everything.
No. I don't regret Berlin. I regret my computer dying before I could make the fucking arrangements.
Berlin was a last minute change from Romania. Romania's outside of schengen, and so it would have been very difficult to get there if we HAD a car or bus or train. That wouldn't take basically the ENTIRE WEEKEND to get there.
90% of the cars in eastern Europe are manual. I have driven a manual exactly once and so I could probably figure it out if my life depended on it, but the ENTIRE WORLD would be safer if I stayed in a manual. (Keep that in mind, it comes up later.) So instead we thought about going up to see more of Poland, but because of lack of automatic cars and the busses and trains taking too long, what if we just went straight to Berlin?
We booked a hostel and bussed it.
My computer FUBAR'ed itself wednesday evening, I took it in Thursday morning, and they said they would call me Friday to let me k ow what was wrong with it and how much it would be to fix it. So here I am, freaking out about money, my computer, my final essay being due, and three entire tripe changers one on top of the other. I had been booking everything when my computer gave out, so I let the friend of mine who I'd be travelling with get the tickets.
When we got to Berlin, we found out the hostel we booked was about 25 miles out of the way and renting a car was out. When we asked a taxi driver, he got us a room but the internet was spotty in that room. The first day we just recovered because I had not slept at all. The second day we walked for hours and hours until I couldn't walk anymore. Probably 6ish hours, total. We saw the wall, various buildings, an awesome flea market with cool antiques and paraphernalia from the Nazis, Soviet occupation, and coins from all over the world.
Today we saw more stuff but when we got to the bus station to bus home, it turned out she had booked it for Monday. I had been sitting all weekend on her dime, because I couldn't get Euro out of a polish ATM and I hadn't told my bank I would be in Germany so it wouldn't work. So there we are, stranded, and we can't buy tickets last minute for that bus, or the next one, so Ivana says "lets get to a car rental place and you can drive so you don't miss your final on Monday.
We sit in the busses station looking for rental place after rental place (remember the whole manual/automatic problem?) Before we find ONE PLACE that has an automatic, and I am trying quietly to make mild comments and make jokes to ease the tension we both feel, before I say "Just get the phone number and give me your phone and I will call." Because she is having trouble trying to book it over her phone's internet.
I call and some woman from Oklahoma helps me book it. It'll be about €450, and i'm looking at Ivana like 'I CAN'T AFFORD. THAT SHIT!' and she is like "do it. What choice do we have? We can't stay here all night!". So i do, and we use MORE money to make it to the rental place via taxi. When we get there and the 45 mi utes it takes the super nice ladies to find out reservation (Oklahoma had booked us for TOMORROW), scrap it (it wouldn't rent is the car until TOMORROW,) and restart the whole thing ended is up with a price of about €700.
Now, they knocked it down for us by having us rent per km instead of for time, but if e erythinf went right it was still €550 and I have my computer to think of and the rest of the weekend. My cheap Berlin weekend just more-than-doubled-down in one, small, incredibly stressful hour.
I will be paying Ivana back in installments after I get home. Along with my parents this is my nightmare.
That said, Berlin is beautiful. The wall is amazing. The architecture is incredible, and I emailed my prof and she is being incredibly nice about everything.
No. I don't regret Berlin. I regret my computer dying before I could make the fucking arrangements.
Friday, June 12, 2015
things I wont miss/am looking forward to coming home for
Toilets.
Bathtub-size shower stalls
Not having to pay for tap water
bigger cups
Driving
window screens (having them)
Not living so close to a hospital
Netflix/pandora/reliable internet
texting normally
gps normally.
Instructions I can read
not struggling to communicate
ease in talking to my family
personal space
couches
Having an oven
colder fridges
non-ikea furniture
animals
home
Bathtub-size shower stalls
Not having to pay for tap water
bigger cups
Driving
window screens (having them)
Not living so close to a hospital
Netflix/pandora/reliable internet
texting normally
gps normally.
Instructions I can read
not struggling to communicate
ease in talking to my family
personal space
couches
Having an oven
colder fridges
non-ikea furniture
animals
home
mundane things I will miss from Europe
Living across the street from a farmer's market that is open every weekday.
Being able to walk almost everywhere I want.
Within an hour.
Being close to so many different countries.
Meeting so many different nationalities.
Picking up a few phrases of different lanuages.
My own room. And door. And lock.
Milka chocolate. And wawel. And wedel.
Pear sorbet.
People thanking me for correcting their English.
Their patience when I attempt what little I know of their language.
Four day weekends.
Smiling as I send postcards and take pictures and get souvenirs for others.
Architecture and daily views as I walk to/from everywhere.
The greenbelt park and organization of the city.
Making people laugh despite different cultures.
History and age.
How far my money goes.
The light switches.
24-hr clocks.
Lack of artificity in food.
Soda included.
Small feeling of victory I get from my plug adaptors working perfectly.
Watching the pride in other people's faces when they talk about their own culture and familiarity.
Telling people about what's "normal" for me.
Helping people understand where I come from of political issues.
That differing beliefs doesn't affect friendship.
That being American makes me a mythical creature.
Their grateful enthusiasm when I offer to show them around if they ever come to PNW.
Their sincere offer to show me around, and insistence that I come back.
The meat I buy that goes into my made-up pasta dish.
Being part of a crowd walking all over the road, because cars don't do down that road.
Walking past tourists and hearing snatches of native English.
Helping tourists find what they want.
Being able to walk almost everywhere I want.
Within an hour.
Being close to so many different countries.
Meeting so many different nationalities.
Picking up a few phrases of different lanuages.
My own room. And door. And lock.
Milka chocolate. And wawel. And wedel.
Pear sorbet.
People thanking me for correcting their English.
Their patience when I attempt what little I know of their language.
Four day weekends.
Smiling as I send postcards and take pictures and get souvenirs for others.
Architecture and daily views as I walk to/from everywhere.
The greenbelt park and organization of the city.
Making people laugh despite different cultures.
History and age.
How far my money goes.
The light switches.
24-hr clocks.
Lack of artificity in food.
Soda included.
Small feeling of victory I get from my plug adaptors working perfectly.
Watching the pride in other people's faces when they talk about their own culture and familiarity.
Telling people about what's "normal" for me.
Helping people understand where I come from of political issues.
That differing beliefs doesn't affect friendship.
That being American makes me a mythical creature.
Their grateful enthusiasm when I offer to show them around if they ever come to PNW.
Their sincere offer to show me around, and insistence that I come back.
The meat I buy that goes into my made-up pasta dish.
Being part of a crowd walking all over the road, because cars don't do down that road.
Walking past tourists and hearing snatches of native English.
Helping tourists find what they want.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Romania is bust
Not going to Romania. It's outside the Schengen area, and the border crossing fee for the rental car is 32 euro. so instead oh solvakia, hungary, and then romania.. we're crossing ONE border after seeing Gdansk and Torun in Poland. My friend Ivana and I are going to Berlin, Germany. All of this is costing me less that $150 for a three-day weekend travelling. and i'll get to see Germany. And practice my German. which is good.
Also all the places we stay have wifi, so i'll be able to do my final essay while travelling.
Also also i have a polish final tomorrow. It's an oral examine, and i have no idea how i'm going to do. I've been doing poorly on my written exams, so probably not well. I'll also be studying, but i dont know how well that's going to go, either.
Making travel plans is very stressful. have i talked about that? i feel like it's a legit job, all the booking and reservations and whatnot. i mean ffs, i feel wrung out and like crying every time i have to book something and then last minute plans wreck it, which they ALWAYS do.
it will feel good to see one last thing before i go.
and Ivana is a good friend.
Also all the places we stay have wifi, so i'll be able to do my final essay while travelling.
Also also i have a polish final tomorrow. It's an oral examine, and i have no idea how i'm going to do. I've been doing poorly on my written exams, so probably not well. I'll also be studying, but i dont know how well that's going to go, either.
Making travel plans is very stressful. have i talked about that? i feel like it's a legit job, all the booking and reservations and whatnot. i mean ffs, i feel wrung out and like crying every time i have to book something and then last minute plans wreck it, which they ALWAYS do.
it will feel good to see one last thing before i go.
and Ivana is a good friend.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
the Blue Dunajec
The river that is the Polish-Slovak border is a thing of beauty. we went rafting down it yesterday, and my hat, once again, was awsome. I had Nicole dunk it in the freezing river for me and then wore it. It was very refreshing.
Today I will get started on writing my final paper and trying to figure out what to do about Polish class tomorrow. It's supposed to be a bit of a party/potluck, but idk what i'm makingnor bringing. I might do the lazy thing and get a bunchbof chips and cookies. but i'm not sure.
Planning Romania is kind of fun, tho I wasn't very actively brainstormingn because I waa distracted by the shows we were watching. so far beyond Vlad's Castle (which is apparently overrated), we are looking at phamalogical museums, abandoned buildings, and a few other things. Which is the kindnof stuff I love to do. I would rather take the beaten path than no path at all, but off the beaten path is my favorite.
Coming here has changed me in small ways. I will now be that pretentious asshole that pronounces cities like budapest, warsaw, krakow, and qatar in the way that we're not used to hearing them. Before, I would only really do that with ones I knew, like Edinburgh or Hawai'i. But honestly, if a culture owns something, they know how to pronounce it. Even if I do look pretentious, I wasn't raised to get somethingnwrong on purpose if I know better.
There's been a little bit of personal drama, with friends i've known for a couple years now choosing to believe the worst of me and cutting me out of their lives and spreading rumors about me back home. There's also that I don't want to face the goodbyes here. And that even though it was supposed to be work and school, here, it really has become like a home away from home. I can now have casual conversations in Polish. That's not to say that i'm good at it, but I can do it. I've come to love Krakow, and all its stone and I will be incredibly sad to say goodbye to it. Especially since I don't know when or if i'll ever be able to come back.
That isn't to say I won't travel again, I refuse to accept any possibility where I don't see more of the world. But i'm proud of what i've accomplished here. I'm proud of what I've learned. It feels right to spend my last weekend here checking off one more country with a friend who likes the same kinda of travelling I do.
And I want to thank my mom and Dad for giving me the world.
Today I will get started on writing my final paper and trying to figure out what to do about Polish class tomorrow. It's supposed to be a bit of a party/potluck, but idk what i'm makingnor bringing. I might do the lazy thing and get a bunchbof chips and cookies. but i'm not sure.
Planning Romania is kind of fun, tho I wasn't very actively brainstormingn because I waa distracted by the shows we were watching. so far beyond Vlad's Castle (which is apparently overrated), we are looking at phamalogical museums, abandoned buildings, and a few other things. Which is the kindnof stuff I love to do. I would rather take the beaten path than no path at all, but off the beaten path is my favorite.
Coming here has changed me in small ways. I will now be that pretentious asshole that pronounces cities like budapest, warsaw, krakow, and qatar in the way that we're not used to hearing them. Before, I would only really do that with ones I knew, like Edinburgh or Hawai'i. But honestly, if a culture owns something, they know how to pronounce it. Even if I do look pretentious, I wasn't raised to get somethingnwrong on purpose if I know better.
There's been a little bit of personal drama, with friends i've known for a couple years now choosing to believe the worst of me and cutting me out of their lives and spreading rumors about me back home. There's also that I don't want to face the goodbyes here. And that even though it was supposed to be work and school, here, it really has become like a home away from home. I can now have casual conversations in Polish. That's not to say that i'm good at it, but I can do it. I've come to love Krakow, and all its stone and I will be incredibly sad to say goodbye to it. Especially since I don't know when or if i'll ever be able to come back.
That isn't to say I won't travel again, I refuse to accept any possibility where I don't see more of the world. But i'm proud of what i've accomplished here. I'm proud of what I've learned. It feels right to spend my last weekend here checking off one more country with a friend who likes the same kinda of travelling I do.
And I want to thank my mom and Dad for giving me the world.
Dunajec from the raft
dawn from my window.
Monday, June 1, 2015
Greece
My time in Greece is coming to a close. The first day, we saw the Acropolis. Climbed to the top and saw the theatre of dionysus and it was cloudy and a little rainy. (Light sprinkles.) I also tweaked my ankle again. Which I did right before coming here. And I did again today. Because this is my life.
The next day we took a bus tour around and saw the achaeological museum. It was big, and kind of unorganized. Incredible, in the scope of things they've saved, but it was a little like taking a tour of your grandmother's house. A lot of stuff that there are short anecdotes about, but you don't really understand why they should be important because it is hard to imagine what belongs behind glass taking part in actual living. The best parts of the museum were the weapons that had deteriorated and the jewelry that hadn't. I mean, besides the amazing bit of pottery that they salvaged and helped recreate. That's cool, the patchwork preservation. I approve of that. It's amazing to see what went where and the sheer scope of the crastsmanship.
The acropolis and museum were free because technically i'm an EU student! :3
The bus tour could have been discounted, but I didnt know to ask until after I was on the bus and read the back of the seat. Of course.
The souvenirs here are as cheap as souvenirs really ahould be. Same with the food.
Sunday we went on a day cruise to see three of the islands. It was beautiful, but according to the taxi cab (also surprisingly cheap) driver I just met, the best islands are the ones tourists don't see. (SHOCK.) Or course, I will forever believe that seeing tourist shit is better than seeing nothing at all. I felt the same about hawaii. If you don't have a car and a gps, get on the tourist bandwagon, coz it's better than telling the story of the shit you didnt do.
Having a hat is amazing. Seriously. I couldn't do sunglasses because perscription vision is a pain in the ass (explain to me again how lasik is elective over years and years of appointments, insurance. Same thing with orthodonture. Fuck you.) And a hat has made all the difference. I got it a little big, apparently, it flew off twice, but I love it, and it and sunscreen worked incredibly well.
I even have a tinybabytan line on my feet! I didnt even know I could do that! My sister's sock-tanline of '02 summer in idaho kicks my tanline's ass, but it's there and it doesn't scrub off!
Athens is covered in graffiti. I mean COVERED. the only building I saw without graffiti were official ones and a whitewashed tattoo parlour. Also there is pee on the widewalks (which Iearned to look for in seattle, so that's hardly REALLY a commentary on the city), and I know most people would call it dirty.
Honestly, though, the city reminds me so much more of a kid's bedroom. There is stuff all over the place, sure, and could probably use a good scrub, but these buildings (and those toys) have been here since birth and just because YOU don't know your way around doesn't mean it's chaotic to anyone else. Because it's THEIRS and you probably don't belong anyway. And I have to say that I like it that way. Getting caught up in the ground is a mistake anyway. If you keep looking at the messy floor you miss the amazing beauty right above you. The plants alone are worth the visit. Thousands of plants merely like the little patios. Hundreds of beautiful flowering trees. A trillion purple blossoms color the sky and litter the tiny churches that make a dozen tiny squares all over the city. Flowers i've never even seen before suddenly invading my sense of smell and making me wish I knew their names so I could see about planting them at home.
And the food. I have not had a single bad meal. Even the crappy cafeteria-style eating on the daycruise was still tasty.
I've only used my pocket camera and phone because it's been hazy and carrying around my big camera seemed like too much of a pain in the ass. But here are a few shota from my phone:
The next day we took a bus tour around and saw the achaeological museum. It was big, and kind of unorganized. Incredible, in the scope of things they've saved, but it was a little like taking a tour of your grandmother's house. A lot of stuff that there are short anecdotes about, but you don't really understand why they should be important because it is hard to imagine what belongs behind glass taking part in actual living. The best parts of the museum were the weapons that had deteriorated and the jewelry that hadn't. I mean, besides the amazing bit of pottery that they salvaged and helped recreate. That's cool, the patchwork preservation. I approve of that. It's amazing to see what went where and the sheer scope of the crastsmanship.
The acropolis and museum were free because technically i'm an EU student! :3
The bus tour could have been discounted, but I didnt know to ask until after I was on the bus and read the back of the seat. Of course.
The souvenirs here are as cheap as souvenirs really ahould be. Same with the food.
Sunday we went on a day cruise to see three of the islands. It was beautiful, but according to the taxi cab (also surprisingly cheap) driver I just met, the best islands are the ones tourists don't see. (SHOCK.) Or course, I will forever believe that seeing tourist shit is better than seeing nothing at all. I felt the same about hawaii. If you don't have a car and a gps, get on the tourist bandwagon, coz it's better than telling the story of the shit you didnt do.
Having a hat is amazing. Seriously. I couldn't do sunglasses because perscription vision is a pain in the ass (explain to me again how lasik is elective over years and years of appointments, insurance. Same thing with orthodonture. Fuck you.) And a hat has made all the difference. I got it a little big, apparently, it flew off twice, but I love it, and it and sunscreen worked incredibly well.
I even have a tinybabytan line on my feet! I didnt even know I could do that! My sister's sock-tanline of '02 summer in idaho kicks my tanline's ass, but it's there and it doesn't scrub off!
Athens is covered in graffiti. I mean COVERED. the only building I saw without graffiti were official ones and a whitewashed tattoo parlour. Also there is pee on the widewalks (which Iearned to look for in seattle, so that's hardly REALLY a commentary on the city), and I know most people would call it dirty.
Honestly, though, the city reminds me so much more of a kid's bedroom. There is stuff all over the place, sure, and could probably use a good scrub, but these buildings (and those toys) have been here since birth and just because YOU don't know your way around doesn't mean it's chaotic to anyone else. Because it's THEIRS and you probably don't belong anyway. And I have to say that I like it that way. Getting caught up in the ground is a mistake anyway. If you keep looking at the messy floor you miss the amazing beauty right above you. The plants alone are worth the visit. Thousands of plants merely like the little patios. Hundreds of beautiful flowering trees. A trillion purple blossoms color the sky and litter the tiny churches that make a dozen tiny squares all over the city. Flowers i've never even seen before suddenly invading my sense of smell and making me wish I knew their names so I could see about planting them at home.
And the food. I have not had a single bad meal. Even the crappy cafeteria-style eating on the daycruise was still tasty.
I've only used my pocket camera and phone because it's been hazy and carrying around my big camera seemed like too much of a pain in the ass. But here are a few shota from my phone:
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
All museums bright and beautiful
In yorkshire, i stayed in a place called Thirsk, which i just happened to find where the most affordable bed-and-breakfast was. Turns out James Herriot lived there and they turned the house he actually lived in into a museum and some of the real furniture was donated by the family, and i expected to be a small house, and it wasn't. it was a whole huge complex with multiple floors and a film and a stable and chickens and ii spent at least two hours in it and that was going through the house really quickly. I actually regret flashing through the house because i didn't get to absorb any of it except that it was a beautiful house.
The day after that, i went to swinton castle and traipsed around the grounds of the castle that may or may not have belonged to our family. according to wiki, apparently, the castle i visited was founded in the 1600s? But swinton castle belonged to my family in the 1050s? i saw a portrait of a viscountess swinton in the sitting room. The grounds were so huge i couldn't see all of them realistically. the castle itself was very fancy and each of the rooms were named after surrounding villages. there was a small bit with owls and i am sorry but i am so fucking sick of animals in tiny cages. it will never feel okay. ever.
the third day i went to scarborough on a whim (over leeds and liverpool) and on my way out of thirsk, i stopped when i saw there was a paring lot on the side of the road and a sign that said "view". And hey, that's really all i need to know. The day was rainy and hazy so i didn't bother with my SLR, but i had my trusty pocketshooter with me. Which, honestly, i should probably name. I might go with silver. as in, i am the lone ranger. and hi ho silver! My SLR's name is Vera. Yes. I am that infantile, thank you!
It would've been a view that made me cry, had it been clear enough to see.
I made it up to the castle, and took pictures of the coast, and sat in a graveyard that happened to have Ann(e?) Bronte tossed in. She's the bronte no one talks about. Despite her being on all the signs, half of her name had fallen off the headstone. I sat for a while and talked to a man who was drinking in the graveyard, and he was a very nice man. he admired me for travelling and seemed to admire me more after i told the story about how even though i despise beer, i have out-chugged a hipster just to shut them up. (it's the little victories in life. honestly.) and he was actually very respectful, aside from cussing (which doesn't bother me.) and even chided a girl who littered. He was very specific about keeping his own rubbish to himself.
He told me about Whitby Abbey which was apparently Brahm Stoker's inspiration for Dracula. SO i asked him if he really though it was worth it to see, and he said "i reckon so" and so i said "well all right, then. I'll go now, so i don't lose the light. It was really nice to meet you!" And i shook his hand and left and i have to say, it was wonderful. It was completely worth it. One girl near whitby abbey randomly came up to me and spend about 45 minutes walking around with me while i took pictures, just chatting at me.
now, through 3 nights i barely slept and my back was sore the entire time. i almost didn't go out the third day, i couldn't make myself try going up the turret at swinton, and the floor of the hostel-type place i stayed at somehow had cracked flooring that when you stepped on it, water oozed out.
the flight back to krakow was four hours earlier than i thought- it was a good thing that i randomly checked the papers hanging out in my bag. Otherwise i would've missed my flight.
i'm sorry it's been so long since i've blogged. there's two things at play. i'm genuinely busy, and i hate that my trip is coming to a close. this who time has flown by and i don't want to go. I hate facing the fact that i won't be here anymore. I don't know how it is that i can simultaneously love where i am and want so badly to go home and be with my family, and they're equal desires. All the fear and apprehension i felt before coming here and the uncertainty and nerves have now been transferred to going back home. It's been some goddamned shakespearean stolen season here and now i have to go home and face reality.
I'm leaving for athens in two days and in the second weekend in june, i will be going to romania.
i had vegemite today.
The day after that, i went to swinton castle and traipsed around the grounds of the castle that may or may not have belonged to our family. according to wiki, apparently, the castle i visited was founded in the 1600s? But swinton castle belonged to my family in the 1050s? i saw a portrait of a viscountess swinton in the sitting room. The grounds were so huge i couldn't see all of them realistically. the castle itself was very fancy and each of the rooms were named after surrounding villages. there was a small bit with owls and i am sorry but i am so fucking sick of animals in tiny cages. it will never feel okay. ever.
the third day i went to scarborough on a whim (over leeds and liverpool) and on my way out of thirsk, i stopped when i saw there was a paring lot on the side of the road and a sign that said "view". And hey, that's really all i need to know. The day was rainy and hazy so i didn't bother with my SLR, but i had my trusty pocketshooter with me. Which, honestly, i should probably name. I might go with silver. as in, i am the lone ranger. and hi ho silver! My SLR's name is Vera. Yes. I am that infantile, thank you!
It would've been a view that made me cry, had it been clear enough to see.
I made it up to the castle, and took pictures of the coast, and sat in a graveyard that happened to have Ann(e?) Bronte tossed in. She's the bronte no one talks about. Despite her being on all the signs, half of her name had fallen off the headstone. I sat for a while and talked to a man who was drinking in the graveyard, and he was a very nice man. he admired me for travelling and seemed to admire me more after i told the story about how even though i despise beer, i have out-chugged a hipster just to shut them up. (it's the little victories in life. honestly.) and he was actually very respectful, aside from cussing (which doesn't bother me.) and even chided a girl who littered. He was very specific about keeping his own rubbish to himself.
He told me about Whitby Abbey which was apparently Brahm Stoker's inspiration for Dracula. SO i asked him if he really though it was worth it to see, and he said "i reckon so" and so i said "well all right, then. I'll go now, so i don't lose the light. It was really nice to meet you!" And i shook his hand and left and i have to say, it was wonderful. It was completely worth it. One girl near whitby abbey randomly came up to me and spend about 45 minutes walking around with me while i took pictures, just chatting at me.
now, through 3 nights i barely slept and my back was sore the entire time. i almost didn't go out the third day, i couldn't make myself try going up the turret at swinton, and the floor of the hostel-type place i stayed at somehow had cracked flooring that when you stepped on it, water oozed out.
the flight back to krakow was four hours earlier than i thought- it was a good thing that i randomly checked the papers hanging out in my bag. Otherwise i would've missed my flight.
i'm sorry it's been so long since i've blogged. there's two things at play. i'm genuinely busy, and i hate that my trip is coming to a close. this who time has flown by and i don't want to go. I hate facing the fact that i won't be here anymore. I don't know how it is that i can simultaneously love where i am and want so badly to go home and be with my family, and they're equal desires. All the fear and apprehension i felt before coming here and the uncertainty and nerves have now been transferred to going back home. It's been some goddamned shakespearean stolen season here and now i have to go home and face reality.
I'm leaving for athens in two days and in the second weekend in june, i will be going to romania.
i had vegemite today.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Kirkcaldy
In Kirkcaldy, (as i got in on saturday night,) I rested the first day. I put in an appearance in the chruch, and was able to ask people who would know about the family i am looking for, and (i don't know how my mother found this person, but i also emailed someone my mom got in email contact with, who had actually confirmed she knew how to find records of that same family, so i also emailed her.) And she said she would meet me monday morning and show me around kirkcaldy and the churches and graveyard. which she did. And i was supposed to meet the email-lady in the afternoon, but she never showed up. or answered her phone. or the three emails i sent her.
They elder i met was a lovely lady names KAthryn, and she walked around, and drove me to a graveyard, the library (which was closed) and then took me to a castle. for no reason other than to hang out with me. She started talking a bit about politics, so i mentioned i know a separatist, and she says "oh i'm sure, which i absolutely am not."
then, on tuesday (my last day), i went to the correct place in Kirkcaldy to meet HER at her workplace, and she was over an hour late, and by that time, i had already taken pictures of all the gravestones i needed. Then she showed up because apparently her brakes (or something car-related) broke. nevertheless, she spent hours with me showing me marriage/death/announcements in a huuuuuuge bible, the grave catalogue, the library, the genealogist they use and the professional one...
not to mention the fact that there is a beautiful beach, pretty churches, and, weirdly enough, a square which i think was supposed to look like plaid, but i couldn't get high up enough to take a picture.
They elder i met was a lovely lady names KAthryn, and she walked around, and drove me to a graveyard, the library (which was closed) and then took me to a castle. for no reason other than to hang out with me. She started talking a bit about politics, so i mentioned i know a separatist, and she says "oh i'm sure, which i absolutely am not."
then, on tuesday (my last day), i went to the correct place in Kirkcaldy to meet HER at her workplace, and she was over an hour late, and by that time, i had already taken pictures of all the gravestones i needed. Then she showed up because apparently her brakes (or something car-related) broke. nevertheless, she spent hours with me showing me marriage/death/announcements in a huuuuuuge bible, the grave catalogue, the library, the genealogist they use and the professional one...
not to mention the fact that there is a beautiful beach, pretty churches, and, weirdly enough, a square which i think was supposed to look like plaid, but i couldn't get high up enough to take a picture.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Edinburgh
Today the sun came out and let me take pictures all around the royal mile. And yes, it was all a hill. And yes, I walked all the way up it. But actually I didnt end up as out-of-breath as I thought I might. Idk if it was because I was going slow to take pictures, because it was cool, or because my legs are getting stronger (probably all), but it seriously was not as hard as I thought it would be and i am super grateful. Scotland, thus far, has given me two amazing days and renting a car has made every bit of a difference as I thought it would. I have some kind of diesel vauxhall, and I can get close to 50mpg with it, which is incredible.
I wish I could properly describe the scenery or could have pulled over to the side of the road today to taking some good shots, but the highway was much more crowded than yesterday, so it wouldn't've been safe.
Ireland was wild and violent, somehow, in its beauty. Scotland just leaves me with an impression that it is what it is and leaves you to yourself to love it or leave it. I most definitely fall into the former category. My heart fills with every inch of scenery or town or people I take in. I am so happy here that I almost wish I had tried harder to study here rather than in Poland, but then when I think what that might have meant in missing out on Krakòw, I feel pretty painfully torn.
The lady who runs the Bed and Breakfast here in Kirkcaldy gave me a room up top, with a water view and my own bathroom. I have groceries, thanks to Sainsbury, and wifi, with some beautiful songbirds singing outside my window. I have Hozier on (thanks, youtube,) and am reading Harry Potter while resting my feetsies. I have sent an email to a lady my mom found who will know more about where I need to go to track down what records I am looking for, and the town is small enough I think I can explore it and even if I do get lost I could probably just ask someone where Merchant House is, and they could tell me.
The people are so insanely friendly that it makes growing up in the south look like growing up in new york. I said "good evening" to some people across the street when I got some food out of my car, and all of them greeted me back, including a mom having her tiny child call out "hiii!" And one guy let me pet his dog. (This sounds weird but in Kraków whether it is the language barrier or the relectuance to make eye contact, you generally just don't do that.)
Somehow it feels like home. Not quite America, but the people, and the boisterous humor, and the open friendliness... all of it feels so good, I know I will be very sad to leave.
There is a trope (one that is universal, and valueable, because everyone feels this way sometimes,) about being surrounded by people and feeling lonely. I have been dealing with this for a while now. In being single. In being broke and stressed about money and school. In keeping my head down and working. It helped me, a lot, to move to Kraków and remind myself that I am my mother's daughter, and will never not love my surroundings and weather whatever I have to with unflappable flexibility. It helped me remember I am my father's daughter, and will observe everything in its minutae with smirking regard to ironies and inconsistencies the world presents me. And to smile and appreciate the differences that tie to common roots and understand that the world isn't black and white; only we are, in how we deal with shades of grey.
Scotland has made me feel the opposite. I am by myself here. I know no one. I am constantly on the move and I barely talk to anyone at all.
Somehow, I haven't felt alone for an instant.
I have not felt like I could ever live anywhere but America. Having a job offer waiting for me in Kraków has been a wonderful backup plan in case my life ever stagnates.
But here.
In two days.
I could live here.
I wish I could properly describe the scenery or could have pulled over to the side of the road today to taking some good shots, but the highway was much more crowded than yesterday, so it wouldn't've been safe.
Ireland was wild and violent, somehow, in its beauty. Scotland just leaves me with an impression that it is what it is and leaves you to yourself to love it or leave it. I most definitely fall into the former category. My heart fills with every inch of scenery or town or people I take in. I am so happy here that I almost wish I had tried harder to study here rather than in Poland, but then when I think what that might have meant in missing out on Krakòw, I feel pretty painfully torn.
The lady who runs the Bed and Breakfast here in Kirkcaldy gave me a room up top, with a water view and my own bathroom. I have groceries, thanks to Sainsbury, and wifi, with some beautiful songbirds singing outside my window. I have Hozier on (thanks, youtube,) and am reading Harry Potter while resting my feetsies. I have sent an email to a lady my mom found who will know more about where I need to go to track down what records I am looking for, and the town is small enough I think I can explore it and even if I do get lost I could probably just ask someone where Merchant House is, and they could tell me.
The people are so insanely friendly that it makes growing up in the south look like growing up in new york. I said "good evening" to some people across the street when I got some food out of my car, and all of them greeted me back, including a mom having her tiny child call out "hiii!" And one guy let me pet his dog. (This sounds weird but in Kraków whether it is the language barrier or the relectuance to make eye contact, you generally just don't do that.)
Somehow it feels like home. Not quite America, but the people, and the boisterous humor, and the open friendliness... all of it feels so good, I know I will be very sad to leave.
There is a trope (one that is universal, and valueable, because everyone feels this way sometimes,) about being surrounded by people and feeling lonely. I have been dealing with this for a while now. In being single. In being broke and stressed about money and school. In keeping my head down and working. It helped me, a lot, to move to Kraków and remind myself that I am my mother's daughter, and will never not love my surroundings and weather whatever I have to with unflappable flexibility. It helped me remember I am my father's daughter, and will observe everything in its minutae with smirking regard to ironies and inconsistencies the world presents me. And to smile and appreciate the differences that tie to common roots and understand that the world isn't black and white; only we are, in how we deal with shades of grey.
Scotland has made me feel the opposite. I am by myself here. I know no one. I am constantly on the move and I barely talk to anyone at all.
Somehow, I haven't felt alone for an instant.
I have not felt like I could ever live anywhere but America. Having a job offer waiting for me in Kraków has been a wonderful backup plan in case my life ever stagnates.
But here.
In two days.
I could live here.
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