During my European adventure, I sent out long, annoying emails to friends and family every few days, regaling them with details of each place I visited. Several people have expressed enjoyment reading them, and have requested that I make them available online to help others plan their own trip. So here they are, in all their indulgent glory! As bonus, I'm also throwing in some new pieces of advice!
1. If you're backpacking through Europe, don't take anything with you
that you'd regret losing.
2. Bring a small flashlight. You'll be surprised how useful it
can be.
3. Don't buy that "fast-dry travel towel" from Mountain Co-Op.
It sucks ass, and not in the good way. :-O
4. If you're travelling alone and need a picture taken of yourself
at a tourist attraction, try finding people who probably won't run off
with your camera. Candidates include couples who are obviously tourists,
old people, and folks carrying heavy bags.
5. If travelling via train, try not to carry a lot of money with you.
I found the trains very safe, but just in case, I only ever took out enough
money to last me five days or so, and usually most of that was spent before
I took a long train ride.
5. Remember to pack some music, for those long train rides. But
heed Advice #1 and leave the iPod at home: just bring an old Discman.
The CDs I listened to religiously on the train were Belle & Sebastian's
"Tigermilk," the Essential Simon & Garfunkel, and the "Amelie" soundtrack.
OK, enough with my high-and-mighty wisdom. Without further ado, Soloman's Travelog!
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Good evening from LONDON!
That's right, gang, I've survived my first day in Europe. Number of days without getting robbed: 1.
(For those of you who don't like travel emails, my apologies. Some of you may have already been to Europe, but dammit, it's my turn now, so gangway world, get off of my runway!)
I'm currently at an Internet cafe near Trafalgar Square. London is FANTASTIC. Everything here - the architecture, the tube, the fashions - is of such refined taste and so damn bloody English! The only way to describe it is to say it's like an English Quebec City expanded to be a huge bustling metropolis. I don't want to use the word "quaint" but the streets here really are lovely. Yet it's different from what I expected, because London's no museum piece -- this is a functional city that has embraced modernism. It may have an illustrious past, but London is very much about the present. And I don't think I've ever been in a city with such friendly people -- they are all so eager to help this bloke from the colonies. (Alright, I'll stop the Brit talk).
The last 30 hours have been exhausting: I got to London at 5:00am after a butt-aching 7-hour sleepless flight, so the first few hours of my European adventure have just been spent getting over the jetlag. It has also rained on and off, which is to expected from London. I spent this first day walking around and catching the major sites: Picadilly Circus (love it! I thought I wouldn't, but it's fab), Big Ben (shorter than it looks on TV), Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace (also smaller than it looks on TV, but the fountain in front of it is impressive), and the West End and Soho, which has become my favourite place. I also enjoyed some fine London theatre for only 10 pounds: I got front row rush seats to DEATH OF A SALESMAN with the incomparable Brian Dennehy and Clare Higgins (two legendary stage actors), and it was one of the best productions I've ever seen, period. Definitely in my top 10. I came out heartbroken and trembling -- sure signs of a powerful night of theatre. Ironic that I come to London to see this quintessentially American play.
The people who warned me about how expensive London was obviously went to the wrong restaurants, because I've found more than enough cafes, pubs and eateries with meals at 5-8 £. I had lunch at Cafe in the Crypt, which is a restaurant in the underground crypt of St. Martin's-in-the-Field church. Sounds spooky, but it's quite a nice place. They're having a Mozart chamber concert there tomorrow that I might attend.
London at night is extraordinary -- Picadilly Circus is beautiful, and there are hoards of attractive, fashionable, tasteful people out to party it up. And the gay village in Soho is fabulous (isn't it always?), with little cute cafes in little cute buildings on little cute streets. It's getting late, so I'm gonna finish this email now so I can see what London's famous nightlife has to offer. Hope you're all doing well!
Cheers,
Soloman
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Greetings from London (again)!
Number of days without getting robbed so far: 3. And I walked through a dark park at night, so I think I'm safe here.
London continues to seduce me. It's easily the closest thing to a perfect city I've ever been to. The buildings are beautiful, the air is clean, the Tube is lots of fun, the people are amazing, the vibe is intoxicating, and everything is just so damn pretty! I bought a sandwich for lunch today, and I wanted it to go so I can sit and eat it in St. James' Park; so they placed it in this cute little boutique bag for me. I felt so fashionable. Even the Underground is adorable -- every city should have cylindrical corridors! The London Tube must be the best subway system, ever; there are clear directions everywhere, and the recorded announcements are ever so friendly, and they give you this free map of the Tube that's pocketsize and cute, so you don't look like a blubbering idiot carrying a huge sheet of paper. Everything here is just so cute and pretty and well-designed!
It's a vile misconception that the Brits are cool and reserved, because I've found Londoners to be the warmest and most unassuming people ever. Plus everything that comes out of their mouths sounds like poetry. I've never met more helpful people, and I've been living more than my fair share off their good graces. Even the complex streets do their part to be helpful -- there are directions painted on the road that tell you which way to look when crossing the street (so the tourists and jaywalkers don't die).
I've been zigzagging through the city with my trusty Travelcard. The British Museum was impressive (Emanuela, I was thinking of you when I saw the Rosetta Stone), and Marks & Spenser is heaven on earth -- not like the cheap facsimile they (used to) have in Toronto, the M&S in London has delicious and reasonably-priced food, too. Yesterday I also went to a local pub to enjoy some fish and chips (better than Burwash!) and a pint of ale -- which, as I found out, is exactly like Canadian beer. The bartender, thinking I was American, said it might be too strong for me. HA!
Portabello Market in Notting Hill was rather disappointing; it's not really a full-fledged outdoor market, all the stores just sell their things outside their door. Word to the wise: avoid the antiques, handmade jewelry and old rustic editions of Shakespeare that markets in Notting Hill and Covent Garden are selling -- I've seen the same things in Toronto for a tenth of the price.
Today, after catching the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, I spent most of the day at the Tower of London. It's a must for history fanatics: you get to see where Henry VIII lived, where Ann Boleyn got beheaded, and all those nifty torture devices. It's strange that the Tower of London (actually an entire fortress with many towers) was both a royal residence and simultaneously a makeshift prison for traitors. They still have the axe and block on which all those heads were chopped off, to be impaled on a stick and brought to London Bridge (fun!).
Speaking of which, if you ever visit London you must go to Westminster Bridge at night, to catch the view of glimmering Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. From there, it's a picturesque walk along the southern bank of the Thames, where you get to catch the London Eye and all those bridges (although the walk gets really spooky near the London Bridge...I thought I was gonna get killed near the "Prison Museum").
Well, this email is getting too long for its own good, so I'll stop now. But thank you to Tanya and Stacey for writing. So send me a hello message, so I know you're reading these ramblings (though I might not reply....Internet cafes are expensive).
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Hi everyone,
Number of Days without getting robbed: 5.
I must hurry, I have 16 minutes to finish this email. It's my last night in London. =( Well, that is until I return in mid-October to catch my flight back to Toronto.
I had the best day yesterday. Went to St. Paul's Cathedral, which is a real architectural masterpiece -- stunning building. And the view of London at the top was absolutely gorgeous and worth every pence, provided you don't mind walking up those 530 fear-inducing steps. Right below the Dome there's also the famous Whispering Gallery, which has some freaky acoustics that you can clearly hear someone whisper from 100 feet away. No kidding. It was pretty eery. The Cathedral also has an interesting crypt, and it was quite fun to find Sir John A. Macdonald's resting place there.
Also went to the Frida Kahlo introspective at the Tate Modern, which was a real treat. The exhibition was surprisingly complete (quite a rare occurrence) and featured most of Kahlo's most famous works, including "Henry Ford Hospital" and "The Two Fridas." There was also a provocative painting on loan from Madonna herself (she's a Kahlo collector), featuring a dead Kahlo giving birth to herself in full graphic detail. The permanent collection at the Tate Modern, though, is largely forgettable, and isn't as impressive as the MoMA in New York.
Afterwards, I did the best thing so far in London: I caught a performance at the recreation of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. As a scholar of Renaissance English Drama, this was a real treat, and I actually got teary-eyed walking into the theatre (yes, I'm that big a geek; to top that off, I actually went to a lecture on Shakespeare performance history). The reconstructed theatre is a real jewel, and is accurate down to the nail. It was really overwhelming for me, watching THE WINTER'S TALE in that theatre, in Elizabethan performance style and costume. Even with all the teenage tourists, men with suits and electric lighting, it was a surprisingly immersive experience; you actually believe you're in a London public theatre in 1600, watching a play. The production itself was also very good; Shakespeare is doubly enjoyable when done in a real British accent.
OK, time's up. Hope you're all doing well, and next I write, I'll be in Amsterdam!
Enjoying tea in London,
Soloman
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Hey everyone,
I'm in Amsterdam! Canals, canals, everywhere!
Number of days without getting robbed: 7.
It rained all day and night yesterday, so I didn't get to see the city in a particularly good light on my first day. But Amsterdam reminds me of Baz Luhrman's MOULIN ROUGE and Paris' Montmartre district at the turn of the century (except with canals). Narrow, brick-paved streets with seedy and funky neighbourhoods. And a big marijuana mushroom cloud over the city. My hostel (The Bulldog) is shockingly nice -- it's more like a hotel (they even give me free soap and shampoo), but with rooms for 6 strangers. But it's very clean, and the washroom is huge. Interestingly enough, the hostel is also located smack in the middle of the Red Light District (Amsterdam's biggest tourist attraction). So there are prostitutes and drug dealers everywhere. You're not allowed to take pictures in the Red Light District, though, or they'll smack yo bitch up.
For those who sent me emails about it: yes, the, um, coffee in the coffeeshops is indeed very strong. I'm still reeling! =)
Despite the logical layout (all the streets and canals are laid out in rippling circles out from Central Station), I'm finding Amsterdam really difficult to navigate. I've gotten lost more than thrice already, which isn't fun in the night rain in a foreign city. Oh, and cyclists OWN the road here. There are bikes _everywhere_, and they get right-of-way, even above pedestrians. And there really aren't traffic lights, which makes me wonder how cars know when to stop and when to go. Crossing the street is a scary thing.
Internet is ridiculously expensive (I just paid 2.5 Euro for 15 minutes), so I don't think I'll report more on Amsterdam until I get to Brussels/Bruges or Paris. I'm gonna explore more of Amsterdam today, but this morning I passed by the famous Penis Fountain. It was kinda disappointing: I thought it would be well-hung monument, but alas, it was nothing more than a little pecker.
Soloman
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Hey hey hey!
Number of days so far without getting robbed: 8. (But I really bit the bullet because last night, in a drunken stupor, I left my hostel locker open with all my money, bank cards and electronics hanging out. Luckily, the nice people in my room just closed the locker and ignored it all. Phew!)
Last night I met up with a local named Anil who took me around to the hotspots of Amsterdam nightlife. We had a few drinks with his sister and friends, then did some major drunken bar-hopping, which included a bar with drag queen bartenders. The Dutch are so nice; last night, I didn't have to spend any money, because people kept buying me drinks at the various bars and clubs. Of course, as a Canadian it's only proper to return the favour once in awhile, but I've been able to save a lot of money from living off other people's good graces. Anil and his sister have invited me to a "cheesy" (their word) Dutch festival tomorrow, which sounds like fun.
Oh, and I pee'ed in my first street urinal! Yes folks, Amsterdam has these big, plastic urinals in the middle of the street, where (if you're a guy) you can go up to them and pee. Kinda weird to whip it out in the night air, but it sure beats paying the 50 cents the restaurants et al charge to use their facilities.
Now that the rain has subsided, I've finally gotten to see the city in the sunlight, and it's really pretty. However, admittedly it all looks the same: there's not much variation in the canals, bridges, buildings and streets -- which also makes it VERY easy to get lost, because you don't know where the hell you are. So if you're ever visiting Amsterdam, I HIGHLY recommend going on a canal boat tour, especially at dusk. Yes, it's a cliche, but you get to see highlights of Amsterdam you might otherwise miss, and you get to learn all these interesting things about the city's long history. I didn't become enamoured with Amsterdam until I did the boat tour, and it was easily one of the best things I've done so far. The memory of seeing a clear, full moon while sailing down a glittering canal lined with 17th-century buildings is priceless.
Oh, and the Dutch breakfast of croissant with butter and jam is delicious! And I also had the best spinach soup in my life at a café near the House of Anne Frank (which was very powerful...thank you Sarah for convincing me to go!). So don't worry Irene, I'm eating well.
Before leaving, I'm going to rent a bicycle and explore the outer regions of the city. The bikes own the road here. It's not clear what's a road and what's a sidewalk, because it's anything goes for bikes, and they're parked everywhere. You know those nature videos of a swarm of insects descending upon farm crops? That's like what the bikes are like on the rails and streets of Amsterdam. I passed by a parking lot built for 6000 bicycles.
After Amsterdam, I'm heading off to Belgium -- specifically, Brussels for the chocolate and Bruges for the canals (yes, canals canals, everwhere!). I probably won't be able to write until I get to Paris, which I'm most excited about above all. Until then, I hope you're all doing well!
Some notes from London I forgot to add (for my own enjoyment of documentation):
-- I saw Ralph Fiennes in the audience at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. He looked like he was enjoying himself. I'm surprised more people weren't harrassing him.
-- Westminster Abbey is nice, but not as awe-inspiring as St. Paul's Cathedral. But at Westminster Abbey you get to visit the tombs of all the kings and queens of England's illustrious past, including Elizabeth I and Henry V. They also have a "writer's corner" where many of England's finest wordsmiths have graves or memorials, including Chaucer, W.H. Auden and the Bronte sisters. You can also see the Coronation Chair, which has been used to crown the kings and queens of England for hundreds of years.
-- I actually bought something at Harrods! Solely for the opportunity to say I bought something at Harrods. For those who don't know, Harrods is perhaps the most posh department store in the world. (Sacks on 5th Avenue is the American facsimile of Harrods.) I bought a small bowl of Christmas pudding, a very British dessert. Tasted like fruitcake.
Alright, enough of me babbling. Goodnight!
Soloman
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Bonjour tout le monde,
Number of days so far zithout getting robbed: 11 (but the true test is Paris and Italy!)
I´m currently at station in Brussels, waiting for my train to Paris. The keyboards here are completely wack (where is the dqmn apostrophe??) so bare zith me.
I left Amsterdam two days ago, but I find I already miss it. The Dutch were completely awesome, and I got several walk-around tours from locals I met (including one who showed me the city from the back of his bike in the morning). Everyone, you MUST rent a bike and ride around Amsterdam -- it´s the most exhilarating (and harrowing) experience. I´m not that great a cyclist and was almost mowed down a few times, but the bruises are sooo zorth it! And it´s the best way to see Amsterdam´s lovely Vondelpark.
Continuing on my adventure of seeing Europe´s weirdest attractions, the first thing I did in Brussels was take the subway to the edge of town to gawk at the Atomium, a monstrous "building" in the shape of a molecule, built for the 1954 World´s Fair in Brussels to celebrate atomic power (ha ha). (Look it up on Wikipedia!) In person the thing is eery, a gigantic science-class model as tall as a skyscraper, in the middle of a suburb! It´s very 1950s, and looks like something out of a sci-fi B-movie. I also saw the famed Mannekin Pis, the tiny statue of a boy peeing. Neither attraction was quite as quirky as the penis fountain in Amsterdam.
Brussels is kinda boring, actually. Other than the Palace Square (which is really impressive), there´s not much to see and do, and the people I met were kinda rude. But those Belgians know their food! Chocolate, mussels, beer and waffles make up their national cuisine. I ate a huge pot of (expensive) mussels at a cafe overlooking the Square; and took the train to Bruges.
Bruges, on the other hand, is overwhelmingly beautiful, and must not be missed. It is everything one imqgines Europe to be, and I´m surprised more people don%t know about it. Bruges is considered by many to be Europe´s best preserved Medieval town, and is chock full of canals (reminding me of a quieter Amsterdam), towers, churches and squares. I was pinching myself to make sure I hadn%t stepped into a Disney movie. It´s only an hour away from Brussels, and I was surprised that there weren´t more tourists there. I bought chocolate and truffles at a lovely family-owned chocolatier called Damon, in a cute tiny house near Market Square. I´m eating on the train to Paris, butI´ve stolen some bites and OMFG, best chocolates ever! Will replace any libido, guaranteed!
My hostel was also amazing: on a tiny, picturesque street, and with its own garden. And it was only 12 Euros (18 bucks Can)!! It was also above an exquisitely designed restaurant that gave me a free beer and had delicious gourmet food, including waffles that would make you melt.
OK, train time! By the way, if any of you have any recommendations for my future destinations, please tell me! I still have Paris, Venice, Rome, Florence, Nice, Bordeaux, and Bilbao to visit (thqnks Krista for the tips on Rome).
Au revoir,
Soloman
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Bonjour tout le monde,
I'm in love, and my beloved's name is Paris.
[Number of days without getting robbed so far: 14.] Warning: this email is long and full of pretentious French words.
What can I possibly say about this city that hasn't already been said, ad nauseum, by countless visitors to the City of Light? Hyperbole becomes understatement -- Paris defies language itself. Brimming with wide boulevards lined with trees, with awe-inspiring monuments, with gasp-inducing extravagance, and with more art and majesty than I knew existed in the world, surely Paris must be the grandest and most beautiful city in the world. You almost feel compelled to fall on your knees from unworthiness of beholding so much beauty. In Paris, everyday life's a work of art, and must be seen firsthand.
Allow me to be maudlin here: being in Paris is a real dream come true for me. More than any other place on Earth, and for as long as I can remember, I've wanted to come to Paris. Five years of Extended French classes, taking the most random courses in 'la belle langue,' five weeks stranded in rural Quebec -- all comes down to this: to be able to order un café in French in Montparnasse without sounding like an idiot and to have a conversation with old ladies in Montmartre. (Madame Charlton would be proud!) All this time I thought I was learning French just to acquire another skill, but secretly it was simply so that I could speak it in the streets of Paris.
And hear I am, and Paris is as intoxicating as a fine wine. Despite their reputation, I've found Parisians to be friendly, warm and charismatic. But that could be because they're particularly charmed by meeting a young Chinese man who speaks French with a Canadian accent. The older Parisians are particularly friendly, and I've received numerous grins and queries about where I was from. The exception to this warmth are the waiters, but that's to be expected. However, at my first restaurant (called Le Tango Du Chat) I did meet one kind and alarmingly cute waiter who served me....dinner. He was a model of civility and he also complimented me on my French, which makes me a happy camper.
Paris is an ornate jewelry box with many gems both large and small, and it's overwhelming how much there is to do. Still, I find myself spending more than a little time just sitting outside a café, sipping a ridiculously expensive espresso shot, and watching the city stroll by. I've been doing this obsessively lately: today alone I've had six espresso shots at various cafés (favourites being Les Deux Magots, which I didn't realize was famous until I left, I just liked the location; and a tiny one called Le Fleurus, on a small street near the Luxembourg gardens).
I've been living out my fantasy and unabashedly doing the most cliched, touristy French things. Today, for example, I bought croissants and un pain au chocolat in the Latin Quarter, ate them in les Jardins du Luxembourg (gorgeous). Then I wandered over to the Musée d'Orsay (thanks Sarah for the recommendation!), soaked in the Impressionists, took the Métro from Place de la Concorde and ended up in Montmartre conversing with some delightful old ladies about the hilltop district. There I bought a baguette, and also red wine & a block of cheese from the same épicerie as the one featured in the film Amélie; I took my items up to Sacre-Coeur overlooking all of Paris, and got drunk while watching the sunset. How fucking out-of-a-tourbook perfect is that?
Some notes, for your own personal visit to Paris:
-- Touristy as it is, the night cruise on the Seine is a MUST. For 10 Euros, you get to see the city shine like silver glass in the moonlight, and see the most famous bridges in one sitting.
-- I haven't visited the Eiffel Tower yet (will do tomorrow!), but we passed by it on the night cruise. Boys and girls, it's BEAUTIFUL. I thought I'd hate it 'cause it's such a cliche, but I now understand why people have been so enamoured with it for so long. It's absolutely huge, the shape is lovely, and not only does it glow majestically at night, but the damn thing GLITTERS like stars at midnight!!
-- I did the Louvre yesterday evening, and yes, it's absolutely exhausting. It was a great experience, but after five hours I wanted to puke. It was sensory overload, and I was just browsing; the building itself is overwhelming. By the way, I was waiting to be disappointed by the Mona Lisa, and I was actually quite charmed by the old gal. I was amused by the huge crowds around her, and I realized that's why she's grinning: she's just an attention-loving diva!
-- The two major problems I do have with Paris (because, wonderful as it is, it's not anywhere near a perfect city) is its ridiculous transportation system (the subway is nonsensical) and the surprising amount of noise plaguing the city. Apparently Parisians don't know the concept of noise pollution, because those motorbikes are just ripping the city's tranquility apart.
-- The Notre-Dame Cathedral feels smaller in real-life, and its interior isn't as impressive as I thought it would be (but it's pretty amazing that 800 years ago those Medieval peasants felt compelled to build the huge thing). HOWEVER, if you're in Paris you MUST go up Notre-Dame's North Tower, as it offers, hands down, the BEST view of Paris. Better than Eiffel Tower, better than Sacre-Coeur, better than Arc de Triumphe. At the top of Notre-Dame, you get a panoramic shot of Paris from its very centre, at Ile-de-la-Cité. I spent a few hours up there just admiring the view.
-- Yet the best church in Paris that I've been to thus far is the St. Germain-des-Près church, the oldest church in Paris. If you go at around 4:00pm, the light is just right, and it feels like you're walking through an old religious painting.
Alright, enough of me babbling. I hope you're enjoying these travel letters, self-indulgent as they are. If you have any advice/recommendations on what to see and do in Europe (my remaining destinations are Venice, Rome, Florence, Nice, Montpellier, Bordeaux and Bilbao, then back to Paris and London), please email me! (Thanks Heather!)
Bonne soirée (okay okay, I'll stop),
Soloman
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Bonjour encore,
Number of days without getting robbed so far: 15. (And I even survived the Eiffel Tower, Sacre-Coeur and a sketchy crowded flea market!)
I decided to do the tourist thing yesterday, and visited some major sights. If you love stained-glass, you should go visit Saint-Chappelle, a Medieval church in the centre of Paris, with arguably the best stained-glass in the world. And whoah, is there a lot of stained glass. There was barely any wall holding it all together. If you're not crazy about stained-glass, though, I'd say skip it; pretty as it is, it's not quite worth the 4.5 Euros to enter one chapel and gawk at a few windows.
Versailles, likewise, was rather boring. It's a half-hour train-ride away from Paris, and rather expensive to wander around this ridiculously huge and extravagant home of Louis XIV. Impressive as it was, it gets tedious to walk through endless halls and antechambers that once housed the old la-di-da of France, and they don't even allow you to see where the royal family took a dump (which was what I wanted to see most!).
If you want gilded extravagance, go instead to L'Opéra Garnier, the Paris Opera House. It was actually a bit of a dream fulfilled for me, because I did a project on the building back in grade 9 Extended French class. The Opera House is even more impressive in person. It's a wildly over-the-top Elton-John dream house, with marble and ornate gold-and-mirror trimmings EVERYWHERE. As I love Ridiculously-Over-The-Top, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
But today, I spent most of my time wandering Montmartre. Give the other tourists the Latin Quarter and Ile-de-la-Cité: as for me, my favourite place in Paris is Montmartre. For those who don't know, Montmartre used to be its own hilltop village, before Paris expanded and swallowed it whole. It as a long and distinguished history, being the birthplace of modern art and the old stomping grounds of the Impressionists, Bohemians and countless other turn-of-the-century artists. It's also the setting for that delightful film Amélie, and also Moulin Rouge (which looks more garish in real life than in Baz Luhrmann's film, being smack in the middle of the vulgar red light district). As such, it's surprising that it hasn't been swamped with tourists yet; there still are people walking around with cameras (me being one of them), but Montmartre is still largely serene, quirky, picturesque and very friendly. Stop to ask directions from an old lady sitting in Place des Abbesses and soon you'll find yourself in the midst of a delightful conversation, laughing with her about Parisian hats. When I return to Paris at the end of my trip, I'm definitely staying in this area (my current hostel is in a rather sketchy area with bums and dumpsters, although there's a pretty canal nearby).
Speaking of canals, my trip has inexplicably turned into a canal-spotting adventure. Amsterdam, Bruges and now the St. Martin canal near my Parisian hostel. Tomorrow, I'm off to the mother of all canal-ed cities, Venice. I'll tell you how they compare.
A bientôt!
Soloman
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Buongiorno!
Number of days without getting robbed thus far: 19.
Every inch of Venice is a freakin' masterpiece. The view from the Rialto Bridge, looking down the Grand Canal, is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever enjoyed; it's breathtaking and fills you with wonder on how beautiful a place can be. Venice is hard to navigate (dead ends, bridges and canals everywhere), but it's a great city to get lost in; every turn is a new beauty to behold. I can't wait to be able to send you all some pictures, because it really is as stunning as a Renaissance painting.
If you're going to Venice, dont't waste your money on the cliched gondola ride (which costs about $75 US); with the hordes of tourists everywhere, taking pictures of gondolas (and hence, _you_ in a gondola), I can't imagine it being a very serene experience. Instead, buy a three-day waterbus pass for only 18 €, which gives you unlimited use of the public boats that go up and down the canals. I was on them for hours and hours, just admiring the stunning views. If you ever come to Venice, remember to take the #1 water bus, which patiently goes down the entire Grand Canal; for public transportation, it's an awe-inspiring cruise, with gasp-inducing beauty at every corner.
I'm actually surprised how much I've enjoyed Venice. It's true that it's ridiculously touristy (I think the tourist-local ratio is 2:1), but if you accept that going in, it's absolutely stunning. St. Mark's Square is lovely, and feeding the pigeons is mucho-fun! And in the evening, the square turns into what must be the world's largest ballroom, with competing orchestras playing and people enjoying wine and dance.
There IS something not quite right about Venice, though: by day, it's overflowing with crowds of tourists, but at night it's a ghost town. I took the waterbus back to my hostel at around 10:00pm (just after dinnertime for Italians), and was surprised to find the Grand Canal eerily quiet and virtually all the windows dark. I have an ailing suspicion that no one actually lives in Venice (not the Venice we know, anyway), that the city currently exists only for the tourists. Venice is hence a kind of Italian cultural Disneyland: a lot of fun until the theme park closes up for the night. The real Venetians live out in Lido, which I discovered when I took the water bus to the end. Lido resembles more Palm Springs than 1500 Italy, but is still very nice.
The only area in central Venice that IS bustling at night is Campo Santa Margherita, which by pure chance is what my hostel overlooks. I think there's a small university around the corner or something, because while the rest of town is dead quiet by sundown, this square is bustling with young Venetians into the wee hours, and has great bars, cafes and restaurants. It's been nice to be able to walk out my hostel and buy fruit or eat dinner or have a drink while watching the young locals.
The downside of my Venetian visit, though, is I've gotten more mosquito bites than I can count! I think it's a Venice thing (all that water, you know), but the broken windows in my hostel didn't help, either. At night I can hear the mosquitoes buzzing by my ear, and this morning I counted about a dozen or so bites, including one rather embarassing one on the cheek. And I think I've discovered I'm allergic to mosquito bites, because the bites have swollen pretty badly -- worse than the bedbugs I found in Bruges (how Dicksonian is that?!). Thieves haven't been a problem in Venice at all -- there are just so many tourists that'd it would be impossible to get away. I'm also thinking that it's survival of the fittest: why would they go after a young, agile student when there are so many older, richer, fatter Americans out there who they can outrun?
Oooh, and I've been exploiting the hell out of the five things I know how to say in Italian: buongiorno, ciao, buena sierra, gratzi, and the very useful: parler anglesi? It's amazing how far you can go with those five sayings and some wild hand gestures.
Soloman
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Hello everyone,
Number of days without getting robbed thus far: 20 (but there have been two unsuccessful attempts to con me! Read below.)
I've finally found a place on my trip that I don't like: Rome. Of all the cities I've visited so far, Rome is the one I'm least enamoured with. It's dirty, smelly, the air is polluted, the Romans are rude and exploitative, and except for the famous sights (which really are arresting), the general architecture of the city is disappointingly plain (some neighbourhoods are pretty, but you can see much nicer in Venice). From what I've experienced so far, all the things I don't like about Europe is multiplied ten-fold in Rome: ridiculous amounts of noise, motorcyclists everywhere, nonsensical traffic practices and craaaaaazy drivers, and expensive bad food near tourist sights by rude waiters.
Within 12 hours of my arrival in Rome, someone jipped me, someone else tried to jip me, and two separate people tried to con me. On the way to the Coliseum, I got hungry and sat down at a regular cafe, and was charged 10 € for a half-cold lasagna and a can of coke. When I demanded the waiter explain, he said the Coke cost 4 € -- that's $6 Canadian, folks! Obviously he was exploiting the fact that I was a naive tourist. In another instance, I was buying some street food and gave the guy a bill, and he just gave me the receipt without change. When I reminded him of his mistake, he tried telling me I was wrong, when I showed him my empty wallet, sans change, he scuffed at me and slapped the change in my hand, then growled at the other customers about me.
Worse still was last night, as I was wondering home from the Trevi Fountain, the following happened TWICE: a friendly man comes up to me as I'm walking, and asks for directions. He says he's a businessman from out of town, looking for a bar his colleagues have recommended, asks where I'm from, oh you're from Canada!, I love Canadians, would you like to have a drink with me?
These guys must think I was born yesterday. For those who don't know, this is a famous (infamous!) conjob to snag unsuspecting young tourists. I read about it in Lonely Planet (thank you dearly, Sarah!), and someone I met in Paris said it happened to his friend too; apparently it's very popular. What happens is: you go with the "new friend" to the bar, both have a drink or two, then the bill comes and it's 1000 bucks. The "friend" has either disappeared, or tells the bartender that you promised you'd pay the bill. The bartender won't let you leave and brings along a big, threatening bouncer. If you say you don't have the money, the bouncer will actually follow you to the ATM and demand you give him the money, on the threat of being beat up. Of course, it becomes apparent that it's all a big scam, and the "friend" actually works for this corrupt bar.
Luckily, I saw the scam coming a mile away, but if I wasn't already familiar with it, I could see how I could get trapped. Rule of thumb here, folks: don't listen to strangers on the street unless you're the one who approaches them! Rome (especially at night) definitely feels more dangerous than the other places on this trip. There's a seedy quality to it, and it's not the delightful, carefree seediness of Amsterdam (which is very safe), it's the seediness of greedy lowlife and anything-for-the-buck. In all fairness, I have met some warm, friendly Romans, but the general atmosphere has been one of cold rudeness. Also shocking is the state of the city: there's graffiti everywhere (especially the subway, which is a dump) and for the first time ever, I saw (twice) a beggar woman breastfeeding a baby on a streetcorner pavement. The sight was shocking and disturbing.
The Roman sights also have been a bit disappointing. The Spanish Steps are, well, just steps. It's a nice staircase and all, but nothing to write home about. Trevi Fountain is very pretty, but if the fountain was out in a big empty square somewhere instead of being boxed in by buildings, I don't think people would look twice. But the fountain's enjoyment is spoiled by the infestation of stupid tourists surrounding the fountain, all of whom try taking a picture while throwing a coin over their backs -- as if the shutter could possibly catch that. (I haven't yet thrown a coin in myself, and I'm actually wondering whether I should do it. They say that doing so ensures your return to Rome, but I'm thinking: given my disappointment with the city, do I even want to come back?)
Actually, I've been eavesdropping on a lot of stupid tourists lately. In the Vatican Museum today, as the crowds passed by a generic room with a fresco, I heard someone ask her friend, "was that the Sixteenth Chapel?" Speaking of which, the Sistine Chapel was rather disappointing, the hall is much smaller than I thought it would be, and the ceiling lower, although it is 4 stories high. It doesn't help that, to get to the Sistine Chapel, you have to pass through all these similarly-frescoed rooms, so it's not a big shock to come to a larger room that's all painted. I actually thought the most impressive thing in the Vatican Museum was the lit ceiling of a long hallway serving as a gift shop. Oooh, tip for future visitors: everyone always says you should go to the Vatican Museum early, to avoid the lines; the truth is, everyone does that and lines are actually in the morning. By noon, there's barely a queue, and you can get in pretty much instantly. You can also get through the entire museum in 1.5 hours, easily; compared to the Louvre, it's rather tiny.
So far, then, the only sights I saw that were truly worth visiting was the Coliseum (it's both breathtaking and eery at the same time -- the original Theatre of Cruelty -- and at sunset it's gorgeous), and the gasp-inducing St. Peter's Basilica. The Basilica surely must be one of the great wonders of the world, and I can't believe something this extravagant and grand actually exists in real life. The altar is over 10 stories high, everything is decked out in intricate marble and gold, and it feels like you're walking through the halls of Heaven. I'm having trouble describing it, because it's beyond impressive. I had previously seen Restoration paintings of the basilica, and thought they must be exaggerating; in fact, those painters were being modest in their depiction. If the basilica were a palace, no emperor would be worthy of it. That's the problem, though: when I finally peeled my eyes off the grand frescos and tall everythings, I left the temple feeling not exuberation, but instead a bit of anger. It's just too much! For the Catholic Church -- whose creed is to help the poor and suffering -- to have built and to own this manifestation of their richness and power, rather than melting it down and feeding the less fortunate, just feels wrong. I can completely see how Martin Luther, all those years ago, came to Rome on pilgrimmage and became so angry at how the Church had sold redemption to the rich to fund the thing, that he started the Protestant revolution. Beautiful and awesomely impressive as St. Peter's Basilica is, I found that it did not inspire mortal humility and love of life, but instead imposed a kind of awed fear at the power and richness of the Vatican.
Alright, it's nightfall and I have to brave the dark streets of Rome. Wish me luck! More than the other places I've been to thus far, the roads are a real deathtrap here. Traffic signals are more recommendations than rules. Cars and especially motorbikes zip by you regardless of the green or red light, missing your body by mere inches (I can now see how people can get their purses and bags ripped from their body by a passing motorbike). Someone told me that, to cross the street, just take a deep breath, cross your fingers, close your eyes and step one foot at a time onto the road and hope for the best.
Soloman
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Number of days without getting robbed thus far: 23.
I'm in Florence right now, and it's freakin' awesome. For those who think they have an idea of what Rome is like, you're actually thinking about Florence, where it is gorgeous and people are warm. I'll write more about this beautiful place in my next email -- it deserves its own rundown. First, some quirky things that I forgot to mention in other emails (that may be offensive to some readers!):
-- I could _completely_ understand why the French don't like Americans, as I've encountered many American tourists who have been very loud and obnoxious. On the train, one group was so disruptive that they had to be shushed by the other passengers! This particular type of American tourist would approach Parisians speaking only English to them, and would never attempt to speak French. I suspect that the reason Parisians have a bad reputation is that when these Americans return home, they babble on about how mistreated they were in France, when in fact they were the ones who were rude. (I've also met a few great Americans, though, and one bad-egg Canadian. I hope he doesn't give us a bad name!)
-- In Venice, I found a wine shop that sold wine IN BULK for 2 Euros per litre (that's $3 Canadian, folks)!!! You just had to bring a container. So I filled up my 500ml Nalgene waterbottle full of red wine for only 1 Euro ($1.50 Can), and got drunk for cheap in Rome. Getting ghetto in picturesque Europe is fun!
-- Overheard in the Vatican Museum:
Woman 1: "Why are there candlestick holders in the Sistine Chapel?"
Woman 2: "I think it's because it's a chapel."
Woman 1: "Oh! Do you think they used to hold services in here?"
(Me: no, as soon as Michaelangelo finished it, the Church emptied the
room and invited the tourists to gawk at it!!)
-- If you're ever on top of the Eiffel Tower, please, for the love of cheesecake, resist the urge to call home and tell your loved ones, "guess what? I'm calling from the top of the Eiffel Tower!" Why so many tourists do this is beyond me.
To finish off my thoughts on Rome: despite finding the city dirty and the people rude, there were two things that made Rome worth visiting (besides St. Peter's Basilica). I got tired of looking at Roman ruins (there's only so much debris you can admire!), so I went off the beaten track and instead took the subway to EUR, a suburb of Rome. There's a building out there called the Palazzo della Civilita del Lavoro, and nicknamed the "Square Coliseum." It's a monolithic, white rectangular building with arches that resemble those of the Coliseum. It was built by Mussolini in 1939 to evoke the power and majesty of Classical Rome, because he saw himself as a neo-Julius Caesar. In fact, the entire EUR area was built to resemble a new Roman Empire, and all the buildings there have an undeniable fascist quality: imposing, monolithic, and rather frightening. Since his downfall the buildings have been converted to office space.
The Square Coliseum is the piece-de-resistance of the EUR. I was first introduced to the building when I saw it in "Titus," a fantastic film adaptation of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus, with Anthony Hopkins and Jessica Lange; so I was very, very excited to venture out and actually find the building. Anyway, it looks very surreal and even sci-fi, like it belongs in "Brave New World" or Orwell's "1984" -- recognizably fascist and totalitarian, flanked by huge statues blending Classical sculpture and art deco. Anyway, if you're ever in Rome and you feel like a change of pace, I highly recommend you venture out to see this building. It's just an office building now, so no tourists know about it to venture out there; so it was very refreshing to go somewhere without the crowds. Unfortunately, the building was undergoing restoration, so I had a bit of an adventure climbing up pillars and fences and avoiding the eyes of the construction workers.
The other thing I enjoyed in Rome was a cappuccino. Not just any cappuccino, but the best I've ever had! In Rome, right in front of the Pantheon, is a cafe/coffee store called "La Casa del Caffe," that my sister recommended. Their espresso coffee is just amazing, and the foam of their cappuccino sticks onto the spoon like a baby to mummy's breast -- proof of a great cappuccino. It was also surprisingly cheap (only 0.85 Euros for a cup!), and frequented by locals.
Otherwise, I found Rome blase and dangerous (why must everyone ride those freakin' Vespas?!), and I'm glad to be in Florence.
Soloman
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Number of days without getting robbed so far: 24. (I've seen many gypsies in Florence, but they ignore me. It's probably because I obviously look like I have no money whatsoever.)
Florence has been a wonder. I've never been to a place with such a proud heritage of art, and it's apparent everwhere. The city is overflowing with art, and the masterpieces take my breath away and bring tears to my eyes, they're that awe-inspiring. The people are also surprisingly friendly and warm, a welcome change from Rome.
The beauty of Florence is more tempered than it is in Venice (where it's very in-your-face), but unlike Venice, it's a real living city. Florence is no museum piece for tourists (though there are a lot of them, but not as much as Venice and Rome), and it seems that people actually live and work in the city centre as Florentines. Plus it's the most easily walkable Italian city I've been to, and the streets are easy to navigate and sights are within a short walking distance from each other. I was also surprised to find that Florence is a university town, and there are countless college students here, who go out at night. It's my favourite of the three Italian destinations I've visited.
My hostel is surprisingly amazing -- the best I've been to so far, actually! I've been really lucking out on hostels (no major problems so far), but this hostel (called Albergo Paola) astounded me: it's bright and spotlessly clean, and when I first opened the door to my room, that gorgeous Italian sunshine was streaming through a tall window with white drapes, into a spacious, country-style dorm with high ceilings. And there's free Internet, too (that's how I'm able to write these ridiculously long emails), and the hostel is a three-minute walk from the train station and a one minute-walk from the markets (which rock in Florence, by the way - high quality leather!). Plus, last night all my dormmates had left and there was no one to replace them, so I had the room all to myself: a huge single room (about the size of a MargAd double), for only 25€! If you're backpacking in Florence you should definitely stay here; it's run by a young, charismatic lady named Clara who will, upon your arrival, give you a free map and circle the things you should see while you're in Firenze.
There's just so much to see and admire in Florence that I'm sad I'm only here for three days. It's certainly a place that I will return to. I didn't think I was an art person, but I certainly am becoming one now, with a love of sculpture. I saw Michelangelo's David (the real one, in the Galleria dell'Accademia), and it really is awe-inspiring. Now I understand why it's so revered, because besides the mastery of execution, it's also a very moving and inspirational work. Equally amazing is a gorgeous statue called "The Rape of the Sabine Women" by Giambologna, which stands in the Piazza de la Signoria (a magnificent piazza that's really an open-air museum of lovely sculptures -- it has become my favourite place in Italy). "The Rape of the Sabine Women" depicts two men and one woman, and it spirals up into the air; it's haunting, being both raw and horrific, yet graceful as a ballet (and yet it's frozen!). Google it to see what I'm talking about! I've become so enamoured with it and the Piazza, that I've returned every night like a lover. It's safe and beautiful, and I sit so serenely in the loggia and just let myself be moved by the art around me. I even even take notes! I'm such a geek.
I went to the Uffizi Gallery yesterday (the line to get in is 4 hours, but luckily I snagged a last-minute booking; one of the perks of travelling solo is that people can fit you in anywhere). I was disappointed with it, actually; Boticelli's "Birth of Venus" is less vibrant than the prints suggest, and the gallery only had two Da Vincis (one incomplete), and one Michelangelo, despite having rooms named after them both. The rest of the collection is rather boring -- or maybe I just don't like Renaissance painting. But I don't understand why people wait for 4 hours to go in, because I found the Louvre more impressive in quality (and quantity, of course).
Right beside the Duomo (which is gorgeous, and the look of the building is very refreshing) is a tall tower. If you're in Florence, don't bother with the tower -- go up the Duomo's dome instead, which offers a slightly better view, and also you get to see the awesome interior fresco of the dome. I stupidly did both, because I'm a sucker for panoramic views; but the tower a waste of time and money, since I saw pretty much the same view from the top of the Duomo.
Leaving the Piazza de la Signoria for the last time, I felt genuine sadness that I'm leaving Florence. I will surely come back. Tomorrow I'm on the train for nine hours to Nice, to relax and unwind. Wonderful as this backpacking is, it can't be too good for my health, as I haven't been eating very well and yet I've been straining myself walking all day. I can't wait to just sit on the beach and bask in the Mediterranean sun!
Soloman
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Number of days without getting robbed so far: 31. Only four days left, and no incident so far (knock on wood)!
I'm bqck in France, on the last leg of my European backpacking adventure! This also means I,m bqck to strange French keyboards, oy vey.
French doctors are HOT. I went to see a doctor in Montpellier last week, and the doctor was not only sinfully handsome, but he was wearing a designer suit and had an office fit for a businessman; apparently French doctors skip the white labcoat in favour of Armani. When he asked me to take off my clothes, you know I was reeling.
Why was I visiting the doctor, you ask? I ran into some trouble on the French Riviera. While in Nice, I very stupidly lay on the beach two nights in a row, and woke up with small, red and itchy bites all over my arms, neck and knees (yes, more bug problems -- they must love my skin here in Europe). Eeeeew! At first I thought it was bedbugs, but no one else in my hostel dorm had them, so I can only assume it was the night beach. I had to wash all my clothes, and the doctor gave me some creme and bodywash, but the bites are taking awhile to heal.
Of all the places I've visited so far, the French Riviera is the one place I feel I most need to return to, simply because I didn't get to enjoy it enough due to my bites and the cloudy weather. My sole reason for visiting Nice was to vegetate on the beach, but instead of following an Australian friend to Cannes (where there are sandy beaches; Nice has pebble beaches), I foolishly followed a local's directions to a "quiet, lovely beach" outside the city, and found myself scaling rockfaces and climbing a cliff by the sea -- and still never found this beach!
I finally understand why so many of the world's rich and famous flock to the French Riviera. It really is stunningly beautiful, and has the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. The train to the various places on the Riviera runs right against the Mediterranean coast, and you can see these majestic cliffsides dotted with colourful houses and hotels that light up when the sun goes down over the sea. I found Monaco disappointing, though; just a bunch of boats owned by corrupt rich people, gaudy architecture and no beaches. I found Nice, despite its pebble beaches, much nicer, a blend of French and Italian architecture. But there's something funny about Nice, too: with its beachside casinos and fat palm trees, it's like a Greek island meets Las Vegas.
After Nice, I took the train to Montpellier (in the south of France) to visit my fabulous friend Roza, who is studying French there for a year. She is very lucky: Montpellier is like a miniature Paris, a beautiful city with a zillion cafes. It's also a major university town, with a large youth population that make Montpellier a vibrant and happenin' place. It's also really clean and has a kickass tram system (trams are really getting huge in Europe, and they're very convenient; Amsterdam, Rome, Montpellier, Bordeaux and Bilbao all have one). Roza was also the one who took me to the hot doctor, so she is doubly lucky. =-)
After saying goodbye to Roza, I hopped the train to spend this weekend with my good friend Oscar, who is teaching English in Bordeaux. We travelled to Spain and spent Saturday in Bilbao, the heart of Basque culture in the north. We took pictures of the awesome Guggenheim Museum building designed by Frank Gehry (surely this building is the inspiration for that Simpson episode with Frank Gehry). Bilbao is an interesting place; the old city is a gorgeous example of Spanish architecture, but the city is also full of fantastic contemporary buildings by world-class architects. On Sunday Oscar and I went to San Sebastian, a lovely Spanish resort town, where Oscar very graciously took me to a beach where I could FINALLY lay on some sand and tan, with the added bonus of watching freakin' hot surfers parade around me! :-O
Now that I've gotten a taste of Spain, I'm kicking myself for not including Barcelona on my trip. Numerous backpackers that I've met have told me that Barcelona is one of the most beautiful and interesting places to visit in Europe. I see now that this current European excursion is really an appetizer course, and a return visit to the old continent is absolutely necessary.
I've also ate frog legs in Bordeaux! They were quite delicious; and yes, they really do taste like chicken. They're also smaller than I expected them to be: rather than getting one or two huge green frog limbs, you get about a dozen frog-lower-bodies, smothered in a cream sauce. I highly recommend. (As I do the escargot I had in Paris, which tasted like squid!)
Hope you are all doing well,
Soloman
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Number of days without getting robbed so far: 32. Only three days to go and no incident, knock on wood.
I'm back in Paris! It's so wonderful to be back in the City of
Light. I'm currently typing from my hostel near the top of Montmartre,
one of my favourite districts of Paris. There are a few obnoxiously
stupid backpackers babbling away as I type this, example:
Person 1-"The room in the 'Louvera' with the Mona Lisa smells."
Person 2-"It might be because the Mona Lisa is so old, so the paint
is starting to give off a bad odour."
(*sigh* Some people are unworthy of Paris. ... Or am I just turning
into a European snob?)
Otherwise, it's a nice hostel, with free Internet and an entrance on
the top of a staircase, overlooking the city.
Paris has been good to me. I'm always prepared for some of that reputed rudeness, but so far every single Parisian I've encountered has been warm and lighthearted; even the waiters have been, at worst, just curt. The older French ladies and gentlemen have been especially delightful, always eager to partake in conversation. Being a Young Foreigner in Paris is a fun and unique experience, and the memories are abundant.
I have also found Paris very safe; I've already been to the Eiffel Tower twice to take pictures, prepared and expecting to be swarmed by those alleged gypsy children who rob you blind. However, both times there have been no trouble at all: just tourists and pandlers selling tacky souvenirs. Maybe I just go at the right times: at night and at sunset. Surely those gypsy children need to go home and eat.
For those who actually read this emails, thank you and please forgive me, as these ramblings are shamelessly indulgent. However, I confess they're more for my own enjoyment; my friend Sarah told me to keep a journal, but I find typing it in an email more effective in arranging my thoughts. Of course, I'm forgetting vital things; for example, I forgot to mention that Oscar and I took the express bus from Bilbao to San Sebastian, and the bus had an actual stewardess running up and down the aisle, serving us a free drink, free chocolate and mints and a free pair of earplugs.
By the way, Bordeaux was very nice, with very stately architecture. Oscar was nice enough to let me stay at his place, and it was sad to say goodbye. Today I spent half the day in Chartres (yes Ari, I took your advice), which has one of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world, with school groups and bus tours driving in just to see it. Otherwise, the town is quiet and rather forgettable, and I missed the flavour of Paris immediately.
Tomorrow is my last day in Paris, and I think I'm just gonna sit at a cafe and watch the world go by. Then it's off to London, where I've booked my trip up the London Eye! Can't wait.
Soloman
P.S. -- Tour groups are the most annoying infestation to hit the culture centres of the planet. Especially Asian tour groups (must they take pictures of everything, everywhere, no matter how inappropriate?!). As an Asian myself, I have the right to criticize my brethren. =-) But I admit I've taken advantage of the situation by sticking by them, blending in and taking my own photos without drawing attention, heheheh.
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Number of days without getting robbed: 35. A perfectly safe trip, no robberies or pickpockets. ....But I can't help but feel just a little disappointed. I was all ready to put up my fists and fight for my shit!
I've been back in Toronto for a few days now, just taking a rest. Travelling is exhausting! I've scrambled together a webpage with some pictures from my trip:
http://www.individual.utoronto.ca/soloman
Enjoy! I took over 2000 photos in Europe, but since I was using a point-and-shoot camera, most of them turned out looking flat, with little of the vibrancy or grandeur that I saw in Europe. (I wanted to bring an SLR, but I was afraid it might get stolen.) Still, I put up some of the better ones on the website. I have all the photos in uber-high resolution, so if you want one as a wallpaper, just email me.
Oh, and if any of you are planning to travel to any of the destinations I covered, feel free to email me in the future: I explored most places pretty thoroughly, so I have lots of recommendations on the backpacking experience.
Two final travel notes:
-- The London Eye was a fitting way to end my trip and it offered a fabulous view of the city, but it wasn't quite worth the 11.25 pounds. It just goes around once, in half an hour, with no commentary or anything, and then you hop off. For the price of two meals!
-- I had the best last day in Paris. No one ever speaks of the light in the city, but that's one of the things I found most memorable about Paris, especially at sunset: the softness of the sun, how it caresses the platinum stone buildings and shimmers off the Seine like emerald glass, how the sun streams through the pale green trees that line all the boulevards and causes a ballet of shadow and light in the alleyways. There's nothing like it, anywhere.
Next time you're visiting this most beautiful of cities, do yourself a favour and relax, sit at a café and watch the world pass by. I recommend doing this at le Café des Deux Moulins, located in Montmartre. It has quickly become my favourite café in Paris. It also just happens to be the café in which "Amélie" is filmed, though that's not why I love it. Not only does it have relatively cheap espresso coffee (1.90 Euros, which is a bargain in Paris), but it also offers the best people-watching I've ever encountered. It's located at 15 rue Lepic, which is particularly lively with patisseries, fromageries and épisseries, and interesting Parisians going about their day. Within one hour, I saw a cute baby playing with his even cuter father, a woman with the most pronounced mullet hair ever (buzz cut in front, greasy hair past shoulders in the back), a Jamaican hippie fortune-teller conversing with a posh French gentleman, ancient Parisian men slooooowly carting their groceries up the hill, an older woman parading daring fashions much younger than her age, and I had a staring contest with the most adorable little French baby. All while a street performer lullingly plays the saxophone up the street.
*sniff* I miss Europe already.
Thanks for reading,
Soloman
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