And Now for Something Completely Different

I’m not going to mix words. Camel riding involves a degree of testicular pain that is, in a word, uncomfortable. Let me step back: this being my last Copenhagen-based trip, I wanted to go out with a bang. Hence, I found myself traveling to Marrakesh, Bordeaux, and San Sebastian. First off, this has to be the most surreal outward-bound journey of the past four months. Monday morning, I took my last exam of the semester then hopped in a train almost immediately after finishing. The next morning, I woke up in Brussels, had a train transfer that involved walking across Paris as the sun was rising, and that afternoon touched down in Marrakesh, Morocco, officially pushing me past the halfway point in my quest to set foot on all seven continents.

Cosmologically speaking, a singularity is a point so dense and pressurized that nothing, including light or time, can escape (why yes, I did just finish reading A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Why do you ask?). Now, obviously, since I returned to tell my tale, Marrakesh isn’t a singularity in the strict sense of the word. But it’s a damn close approximation. It took less than three minutes between stepping off the bus and being hassled by a group of kids for money. My fellow travelers and I took to referring to our hostel as “the fortress,” both because the rooftop terrace offered a commanding view of the city and because it was the only place we could let our guard down even slightly. Setting foot outside that door meant an all out sensory (and financial) assault by snake charmers, monkeys, vendors hawking every conceivable form of crap, burqa-clad women pushing macaroons (the macaroons were delicious, actually, so I was happy to have those people around), and swarms of kids offering directions to the main square and demanding “presents” in return. In order to get out of the city, I booked a camel riding trip to a small Berber village the morning of my second day. Loads of fun, actually, except for the one aforementioned drawback. But the swelling has subsided and I’m now able to look back on it favorably.

I’ve never been somewhere that addled me so thoroughly as Marrakesh, so it took about a day to calm down and reconnect with reality (I’ll go into more depth in my next – and last – post since it provides the opportunity to ascribe a grander meaning to events than actually existed and This American Life has taught me that’s how narratives are supposed to end). When I came to, I was in Bordeaux, several hours away from Marseille, which is where I had intended to settle. Bordeaux, however, was smaller, quieter, and the wine flowed like… well, like you’d expect it to in a city that has its name attached to a type of wine.

After a day and a half in Bordeaux, I continued on to San Sebastian, Spain – a necessary stop if for no other reason than I felt the need to visit at least one country where I could speak the local language. Some subjects naturally lend themselves to photography. San Sebastian on a sunny day is one of them. It was nice to end my travels by getting back to my roots: spending more time in the nature around a city than in the city itself.

All in all, not what I’d planned. But I can’t really think of a more fitting last trip.

Where Bathhouses Aren’t Gay and “Wiener” Isn’t Dirty

Now that I’m staring down the barrel of the proverbial gun and returning to Seattle in less than two weeks, I’m traveling as much as possible. Well, almost. I realized retrospectively how I could have bough myself three more days on the road. Oh well, c’est la vie.

As you may have been able to deduce from this title, I spent some time in Budapest in Vienna this past week. I like to think I’ve gotten fairly good at touring cities in a few days, but, man, three days in Budapest wasn’t nearly enough. A week and a half would have been much better. Alas, my professors insist on giving exams. Budapest used to be two cities – Buda and Pest – so I should have realized I’d need to double my time there relative to other cities I visit.

I spent my first day on Castle Hill. I would say the weather hindered my ability to take in the sights, but I know what the weather has been like in Washington. So mine could have been much worse. I didn’t take many pictures, afraid the rain might damage my camera, but it wasn’t unbearable. Not only were Buda Castle and Matthias Church impressive (the church was closed for renovation, but the outside is the most interesting part, anyway), but the hill gives a view of all of Pest along the Danube.

Under the castle is a series of caves formed by Budapest’s hot springs and later connected with a series of tunnels to be used as a military fortification. Today, the labyrinth is a sort of prehistoric art museum. Between the dim lights, percussive music, and name “labyrinth,” I kept expecting something to jump out at me, be it that weird thing from Pan’s Labyrinth with eyes in its hands or David Bowie flanked by a horde of Jim Henson-designed goblins. I’m not sure which would have scared me more.

On the second and third days, I walked around Pest, seeing the many sights there. The Great Synagogue is the largest in Europe. City Park houses a zoo, a circus, an amusement park, and another Castle. St. Stephen’s Basilica marks the first time in my life I saw the mummified hand of a Saint. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to make it to one of the city’s famous thermal baths. Oh well, one can never see everything. I guess that just means I’ll have to come back.

Vienna has to be the Christmasiest place I’ve ever visited (I originally wrote “most Christmasy” there. The grammar check changed it to “Christmasiest.” I had no idea that was a word). At least it has the most Christmas markets per square mile of any city I’ve ever seen. Schonbrunn, the summer palace, also has a labyrinth – this one like the hedge maze from The Shining. Unfortunately, it’s closed during the winter.

Even for royalty, I think having two palaces about two kilometers apart is excessive. Evidently the Hapsburgs didn’t agree, though. Though Vienna being the seat of the Austro-Hungarian empire for so long does mean it has a lot of culture. Much like Salzburg, Mozart is everywhere. But there’s a bit more variety, such as Strauss, the Vienna Boys Choir, and the Schonbrunn Symphony.

Unfortunately, the trip as a whole had to be cut shorter than I would have liked. Seriously, it’s like professors are under the impression that I’m here for school or something. My next trip is going to be profoundly different from anything I’ve done so far, though, so brace yourselves for one hell of a post in a week and a half.

Czech Two More Countries off the List

If my terrible mystery illness (which has been rechristened “Hasselhoff’s Revenge” due to it following a trip to Germany) had struck slightly later and forced me to sit out this trip instead, I could have used the even more hilarious title “Cancelled Czech.” As it stands, though, I’m glad I didn’t have to cancel.

I’ll start by saying that the day I arrived in Krakow I went to Auschwitz-Bierkenau. I’m not going to write about that here – it was far too intense and personal, not to mention the fact that I don’t like topics about which I can’t make sarcastic wisecracks. But if you haven’t read Elie Wiesel’s Night, do it. Even if you have read it, read it again. I know I’m going to.

That leaves one more day in Krakow. I had kind of forgotten that temperatures don’t necessarily have to rise above freezing, even in the sun in the middle of the afternoon. But I suppose that adds to the charm (or at least the experience) of visiting Eastern Europe. Another part of the experience is that Slavic languages all sound Russian and that means the people – I don’t care what they’re saying – always sound angry. Consequently, I spent a lot more time on high alert than usual.

The first stop was Wawel castle (another tangent about language: I wonder if “Wawel” is where Sacha Baron Cohen gets that catchphrase for Borat. Polish uses both “dziekuje” and “jak sie masz,” so I was constantly tempted to quote hilarious Borat lines, though I found the strength to resist). In addition to being enormous and largely undisturbed, it houses Wawel Cathedral, where Pope John Paul II served as archbishop. Of course, his name wasn’t John Paul at the time.

One more tangent and then I’ll shut up. The Popes went from John to John Paul… I think Benedict should have gone with John Paul George and whoever follows him could have been Pope John Paul George Ringo. Sorry, I’m tired.

Just north of the castle is Stare Miasto, the old town. St. Mary’s Church has the largest Gothic altarpiece in the world. I really like Gothic art and architecture, though I think it’s funny that a style based on light is now used to describe people who wear black and, judging by complexion, never go out in the light.

The wall surrounding Stare Miasto is still well-defined. So if you look at a map of Krakow, you’ll see there really aren’t many connections between the city center and the outlying areas. That isolation is pretty nice, though, since it keeps out a lot of the cars and guves it all a very well-perserved feel.

For the ultimate in well-preserved medieval cities, though, go to Prague. Oh, man, I love this place. Though I have to say: after visiting, I’m not sure why Family Guy picked on it with their “it was like Prague sans the whimsy” joke. Well… aside from Franz Kafka, of course. But that was just one really dismal guy with family issues.

I’ll tell you what I liked about Prague. First, they have topography. Living in Copenhagen and having traveled to a lot of very flat places recently, that counts for a lot. Second, I’m obsessed with castles and Prague’s is one of the biggest in the world, not to mention that it has been the seat of government for over 1000 years. Third takes a bit more explaining. A lot of European cities have beautiful or iconic buildings, but the problem is that 1) they are few and far between, and 2) the rest of the city seems to consist of non-descript four-story buildings. So when you look at the city as a whole, you see just a big sea of rooftops with a tower here or there. But, too often, the whole is less than the parts (just like an NBA all-star team). Not so with Prague. They may not have an Eiffel Tower or a Coliseum, but have so many impressive buildings and they’re so close together that when you climb one of the aforementioned hills and look back at the city, you find yourself thinking “oh, that’s quite nice.” Now that I’ve written that last part, I realize it would have been a perfect title for a post if only I were going to visit Nice.

I need to add an addendum to my travel advice from a few weeks ago. If a city has more than one train station, make sure you verify from which one your train departs. I only got to the correct station on time because of a very helpful taxi driver who understood the urgency and thus drove wherever the car would fit, including into oncoming traffic and, once, on the Metro rails. The universe loves irony, however, so, after I boarded with seconds to spare, the train lurched forward two feet, then had to wait for forty minutes due to, according to the conductor, “technician difficulties.”