So Here's the Deal...

...I feel obliged to keep up the blog, but at the same time I have no interest whatsoever in actually writing lately. Why? Because I'm actually enjoying getting lost in the little moments, experiencing new sights, sounds and tastes, and just living "la dolce vita" as the Italians so aptly put it.

In short, while I love the fact that I can share my experiences with you, the people I love and care for the most in this world, I just don't have the passion to do it via this blog on a daily basis. I'm keeping notes for myself, and I'd love to sit down and have a drink with each of you when I get back to the States and tell you what I've been up to. But in the mean time, I'm not going to put any pressure on myself to write an entry for each day of my trip.

Of course, I reserve the right to change my mind at any given moment ;) Just check facebook if you want to know what's up and where I'm at!

Peace and Love Y'all!

Day 55: Athens

Now is when the real fun starts:

Today, I spent my time in Ancient Athens. I started on the Acropolis, home of the famed Parthenon. As with all European landmarks I have encountered, this visit was blighted by modern cranes aiding in the restoration of the building. Additionally, the crowds were very thick and at times quite ornery. Being the easy-going dude that I am, I waited patiently to ascend the hill, allowing those who thought that maybe the famous sights might vanish in the next ten minutes to go ahead of me. It seems that David Copperfield was not in the crowd this day, as the Parthenon was still there in all of its glory when I reached the summit. Let me back up a minute - first of all, you walk through these giant marble columns that once formed the gate of the Acropolis. To your right as you ascend is a smaller version of the great temple, which once served as the meeting place of the Supreme Court of Athens.

Once you are atop the Acropolis, the first thing you see, of course, is the Parthenon. It was designed very intentionally to sit at an oblique angle from the gates so that one can see it's full dimensions upon first sight. I marveled at the Doric columns (two things to note there - I now know the difference between Corinthian, Doric, and Ionic columns, and {as a tribute to my failed fifth grade spelling bee attempt} I can now spell column) and what's left of the friezes. Of course, the marbles that once adorned the temple are now in the custody of the British Museum and the bitter quest to return them to the Acropolis goes on. Even so, the Parthenon is a cultural icon and a testament to solid architecture and building.

To the left of the Parthenon is the (restored) Temple of Athena Nike. Athena, the goddess of victory, is the patron goddess of Athens and the source of its name. The temple itself is magnificent in it's restored beauty.

So, to summarize, there's lots of old buildings and an incredible view of the city from up here. All of it was very cool, and I spent a good three hours looking around the site.

Moving on, I walked down the hill to the ancient Agora (as a tour guide was telling her group that Agora means open space, hence agoraphobia....gotta love the Greeks). This is the site of the marketplace where Greeks gathered to work, shop and play. A lot of the philosophical movements of ancient Greece, including that of Socrates, were born here. So, this is where Socrates (So-crates a la Bill and Ted) came to pester his fellow Athenians with vexing questions that formed the basis of the Socratic Method. Just this fact alone makes the place amazing to me, but then there's also the whole best-preserved temple in Greece thing going on too. That would be this:

Behold! The Temple of Hephaestus! Pretty neat, huh? Check my facebook for the up-close and personal views (of the temple, not of my dumb ass). So, I walked around this bitchin place for a while, then over to the fully restored Stoa of Attalos. Here, they have a bunch of marbles and reliefs on display, all of which were very cool to check out.

All of this walking around and pretending to live in ancient times left me really hungry, so I walked further down the hill to grab another 1.80 euro gyro (so delicious and so affordable!), then into the flea market area. There's tons of shops here for whatever grabs your fancy (especially if you like Greek military surplus items, for some reason). Not much of a consumer these days, I took in the atmosphere but didn't purchase anything. The only thing that tempted me was a leather "satchel" (not a purse) because I want to be cool like Indiana Jones. But, impulse control worked and I left satchel-less.

A nap was up next, followed by gorging myself on some "veal" (definitely not veal, tasted and felt more like roast beef). Thus, I rounded out my night with some conversation with the local-folk, most of whom were probably trying to scam me. I stuck to my rule though - no going to bars with locals you just met on the street. My wallet and most likely my dignity will thank me later.

Day 54: Athens

Despite staying up pretty late getting acquainted with both my new roomates (Heather, from South Africa, and Patrick, from Northern Ireland) and the local brew (Mythos, a lager, and red wine that comes in a 1.5 liter plastic bottle for 3 euro at the corner store), I managed to drag myself out of bed early this morning to take a walking tour of Athens. Our guide, whose name escapes me, was a local Athenian and pretty cool dude. He looked like the Greek Jesus and spoke just as softly, which made for some problems early on in the tour. But once we got going and he adjusted his volume to compete with the traffic, it was a great hike. And I do mean hike - 4 hours of walking up and down the hills of Athens. It was completely worth it though, as he pointed out all of the major sights - from the Acropolis and the ancient Agora, to the Parliment building and the president's mansion.

We started at the temple of Zeus (what's left of it anyways), then proceeded to the stadium where the first modern Olympic games were held in 1896. It also happens to be the spot where the original marathon ended with Pheidippides dying from exhaustion after he told the king of the defeat of the Persian army. Today, it's still used for rock concerts and for the official exchanging of the Olympic flag from one city to another. We went from there to the presidential mansion, the Greek version of the White House (except that the president doesn't live there and he really is a socialist), just as the changing of the guards was taking place. Our guide told us about the whole presidential guard unit, and the Greek army in general. They have mandatory conscription here - 9 months of military service for every Greek man, unpaid. And if you happen to be among the few Greeks that are over 5' 10", you'll probably serve in the presidential guard. Sounds great huh? Except for the fact that while they are very prestigious, they are also the most brutal. They are actually allowed to hit their troops to condition them to stand in place for an hour at a time. So yeah, glad I'm not Greek.

Anywho, we continued on to Syntagma Square (syntagma means constitution), home of the Parliment building and the tomb of the unknown soldier. Again, more presidential guards standing about. We went down into the  metro station, which was built for the 2004 Olympic games. The dang station is a museum! Seriously, they found a whole bunch of artifacts from the early Roman era when they were excavating, and they are now on display in the station. It's really neat; they even have a cutaway where you can see the different layers of earth that correspond to different settlements. Someone's grave is right there, in the middle of all of it (body removed of course). It's definitely the weirdest subway station I've ever seen, but one of the most gorgeous, too.

In the square itself, there were protests going on...what's new? Greece is like France in that the people here are really involved in politics. It's the birthplace of democracy, after all. I think the protests are against all of the (necessary) austerity measures the government has just imposed to keep its economy from going under. See what you did, corporate America? Now a bunch of old guys have to take to the streets to defend their pensions.

Making our way past that temporary diversion, we came to a square that is home to two things: A really neat Byzantine church that I don't know the name of, and really cheap gyros. Seriously, 1.80 euro for a chicken gyro with all the fixins! Oh yeah, and a church with some really neat mosaics....

The rest of the tour consisted of the ruins of Athens - Hadrian's library, the ancient Agora, and the Acropolis. We didn't actually go in to any of these sights, so I'll give you a more thorough rundown after I visit them. All very cool though. The view from the Acropolis is ridiculous - you can see all of Athens! By this time, I was getting tired from all of the walking, not to mention that my guide was rather long winded. It's great to have some information, but it was a little too much for me. And, in the spirit of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", he delighted in telling us about how almost every word in the English language came from Greek. Oy.

I returned to my hostel for a much needed nap, and woke up in time to have some dinner (shank of lamb with pasta - it's a traditional meal here and very good), and cap off the night with some wine and conversation with my roomates.

Day 53: Travel Day

Just a few notes here:

1. Ataturk Airport in Istanbul is rally just a shopping mall with a bigger parking lot.
2. Turkish Airlines rocks - they serve you a full dinner on a 1 hour flight!
3. I'm in Athens now!!

Days 51 & 52: Istanbul

So the reason I put them together is this: nothing really happened on day 51 (which, by the way, was 22 October). I did my normal morning routine of coffee and people watching. The only interesting thing to come out of that was the man who accosted me (well, not exactly accosted, but he seemed pretty intense) when I was coming out of Starbuck, yelling: "Why you drink that? You're in Turkey, you should drink Turkish coffee!" No doubt he knew of a 'great place' to get some Turkish coffee. But I told him that I already tried it (I did) and that it wasn't to my taste (which it's not), and then I continued on my way to the park.

I was just through with my delicious Starbucks non-Turkish coffee when it began to rain. I walked myself back to the hostel, with the wind starting to pick up and the chill of autumn starting to kick in. The rest of my day consisted of drinking Turkish tea (so freakin good - apple chai is amazing) and sitting around the hostel, napping and talking with the other travelers. And for dinner, of course, Medcezir. By this time I knew all of the staff there, especially my waiter Ragyup. Every time I see him when I pass his restaurant to go up towards the main thoroughfare, I say hello and he asks me how my day is going. It's really nice to have a routine with local people I kind of know, and who kind of know me.

Okay, on to day 52. I took the tram as far as it goes in the Northern direction to the tip of the Golden Horn. This left me near the piers where ferries depart for Asia. I was tempted to jump a ferry and go over, just to add another continent to the trip, but then decided that it's still Istanbul (and therefore much of the same), and I've already been to Asia. So I sat by the Bosphorus Bridge, watching the fishermen do their thing and the boats ferry passengers across the strait. By the way, the Bosphorus Bridge is pretty impressive - it's nearly 5,000 feet long and connects two continents.

After watching life go by and daydreaming for some time, I walked over to Dolmabahce Palace (Dol-ma-bach-ie). It was home to the sultans from the 1850s until the Republic of Turkey was founded, and then it served as the first president's home and offices (that man - Ataturk, actually died here in the palace). The current president still keeps an office here for when he visits Istanbul. It was all quite impressive (check the pics on my facebook page), but I felt as though the tour was rushed. You aren't allowed to just wander around by yourself, you have to be on a guided tour. Every half hour or so they have a group go through. This leaves you little time to actually look at all of the fine furniture and art in the well-appointed rooms of the sultan and his wives. Really, you just get glimpses. So, yeah...not my kind of tour.

More apple chai capped off my day (I actually didn't "drink" that much here in Istanbul, just a glass of wine or two with dinner each night). I'm not a tea drinker at all, but I could sit around all day with this stuff and be happy and contented with my life. I'll definitely be figuring out how to make it when I get home so that I can get through the cold winter. My evening drew to a close while watching the moon rise over the hills on the Asia side of the city:

Day 50: Istanbul

So today I decided to investigate the modern culture of Istanbul. The best way to do this, in my opinion, is to people watch. With my coffee in hand, I sat in the park and watched the interactions between school kids, business men, and tourists alike. As I sat there, the same group of school boys from a few days ago were sitting around in the park (apparently they don't actually go to class). Anyways, one of these guys, no doubt prodded by his buddies, finally approached me and started up a conversation. He could only speak fragments of English, but then I have no Turkish under my belt. We got through the conversation though, mostly by American pop culture references and hand gestures. They taught me some Turkish - like Tesekkür ederim, which means thank you. There has to be a Persian influence on the Turkish language, because it sounds very similar to another Persian dialect I've heard called Dari (the language of Afghanistan). I sat there and talked with these guys for a good two hours (all while wondering why they weren't going to class), and had a good time. One of the guys, named Ercan, even showed off his beatboxing skills....and needless to say, I have a new facebook friend!


In the evening, I sat down with the hostel manager to watch the local Turkish football club get trounced by the Porto (city in Portugal) team. The game was being held right down the street, near the manager's home. He left in the 50th minute so that he wouldn't have to deal with the traffic (completely understandable), and because his team was losing so badly. The game ended up 3-1, with Turkey's only goal coming in the 91st minute. Surprisingly though, there were no riots or even booing - apparently Turkish soccer fans don't even drink (that much)! It's always nice to see well behaved football fans, and it's even better to sit down, watch a local game, and cheer on the home team even if they don't win.

Day 49: Istanbul

It's pretty easy to slide into a routine here. That being said, I walked the mile or so to the Starbucks for my morning fix, and went to the park to people watch. Really, I ended up watching the stray cats (there are so many of them here) going up the trees and then sitting there while trying to figure out how to get back down before finally mustering up the courage to just jump. The muezzin's call was just beginning to start when I left my bench and headed down the hill to the Basilica Cistern. For all you Bachelorette fans, this is where Ali and Frank had their date when they were in Istanbul (please, really, don't ask me how I know that):

Magical...

Anyways, it's pretty neat to check out. It was constructed in the 6th Century CE under Emperor Palpatine (or Justinianus, one of the two) and was filled with water from the moisture farms of Tatooine (or the forests of Belgrade, again it's one or the other). Seriously though, it's the best preserved example of an underground cistern in Istanbul and definitely worth visiting. Nowadays, since we have plumbing and there's no need for cisterns, there's all sorts of koi and such swimming around in the water. You have to watch your step though, as it's very slippery from condensation that builds up on the ceilings and drips down to the walkways.

After my tour through the cistern (once my eyes adjusted to the sun), I walked across the street and over to the crown jewel of Istanbul, the Hagia Sofia. This 1,000 year old building has served as both a church (under Roman rule) and a mosque (under the Ottomans). It's been secularized now and serves as a monument to Turkish history and culture. It's fascinating to see both the Muslim and Christian iconography displayed throughout the interior. A lot of the original mosaics were covered in plaster when the church was turned into a mosque, but through careful restoration they are now seeing the light of day once more. Unfortunately, the altar area is undergoing construction currently, so there's an obstructed view of what should be the focal point of the nave. Regardless, the building itself is an amazing testament to architecture, and it has great views over the Golden Horn.

I spent the evening on the rooftop terrace of my hostel, watching the sun set over the Sea of Marmara and enjoying the beautiful day. And of course, I went back to Medcezir and had some more pide!

Day 48: Istanbul

It was a little overcast this morning, but nothing a cup of coffee won't fix. I grabbed some Starbucks (not a huge fan of the Turkish coffee) and sat down in the park adjacent to the Blue Mosque. I watched the comings and goings, mostly tourists snapping photos of the various monuments to an empire long gone. The fascinating piece of anthropology for me, though, was watching a group of Turkish high school boys interact with each other. Especially interesting was the way they greet each other - they shake hands and touch their temples together, first the left and then the right. It's a modified European greeting - no kissing of the cheeks. These are the kinds of little cultural things that endlessly fascinate me.

The afternoon brought with it a beautiful sunny sky. I left my bench in the park, fully satisfied now that my caffeine fix was sated and headed over to the Blue Mosque. I took some time to observe the gathering of people in the exterior courtyard - worshipers who had just finished their afternoon prayers were saying their goodbyes and going back to work. I walked around the back of the mosque to the visitor's entrance, to see people already queuing up for the 1330 opening. By chance, I saw a guy from UPENN that I met in Budapest. So we got to talking as we waited for the line to start moving.

After removing my shoes (not an easy task with Army-issue desert boots), I stepped into the Blue Mosque's interior. It was amazing! The ornate and intricate painting on the ceiling and walls, the low hanging chandeliers, the sight of Muslims bowing at the altar - all of it was a truly unique experience. Normally, non-Muslims are not allowed into mosques. But as this is a cultural icon, visiting during non-prayer time is allowed (and free). There was a reverent peace throughout the prayer hall; it was all very relaxing. I could actually take time to appreciate the architecture, feel the soft Persian rugs under my stocking feet, and gather my thoughts.

Following the Blue Mosque, my UPENN buddy (still don't know his name, a common problem among travelers. You just start talking to people and never bother to ask names) and I headed over to the Grand Bazaar. It's basically a huge mall of ancient times, filled with all of the latest brand names (mostly counterfeit) and tourist baubles. It was still cool to browse around (I love hearing the sales pitches that some of these guys have, but know better than to actually show the slightest bit of interest. This will lead to hours of your life drinking tea and haggling over carpets that you don't want/need). My favorite pitch of the day was from a waiter at one of the kebab places - he said "your friend looks like he is starving to death - he needs to eat immediately!". Both of us were perfectly fine on food and declined, but I thought it was a funny thing to say.

We sat in the park and chatted a bit, then parted ways. I returned to Sultanahmet and had some bangin lamb chops at the cafe run by my hostel. They were served on a hot slab of granite, with corn, chickpeas, potatoes, and glazed veggies - such a good meal! Following dinner, I took the tram over to Sirecki Train station to see one of the many cultural marvels of this city: the Whirling Dervishes.

The show started with a woman reading something about how the founder of the WDs (as I will now call them) was a Sufi Muslim who believed that all religions lead to the same God, they just had different practices. Amen to that! Then the traditional Turkish band began to play (the dude playing the autoharp-type instrument was amazingly good at what he does).

After their first set, they took a brief pause and then returned dressed like this:

This is all part of the Sema ceremony, in which the Sufis practice estatic prayer (in the form of whirling). They were followed by the actual WDs, who went through a lot of ritual bowing and such before shedding their black robes to reveal colorful clothing (on the women at least - the men wore white). They then set about to whirling, which I take to be a means of prayer through what every child learns as the first natural high - getting yourself dizzy. I'm definitely going to have to research both Sufism and Whirling Dervishes more carefully to get a full understanding of what I witnessed, but even without this working knowledge, the ceremony was transfixing to watch. 

I really wish that I could fully explain to you what went on, but unfortunately I lack the knowledge and (at least for now) the ability to articulate what I saw. Just know that it was a spectacular sight and a great cultural experience.

Day 47: Travel to/Arrival in Istanbul

I resolved that once I got to Istanbul, I would go back on the see/do/experience the city routine. And such was the case.

I took the night bus from Sofia, departing at 2200. The trip was uneventful (although we spent 2 hours at the Turkish border). I didn't sleep very well, maybe an hour, but I did meet this really cool dude named John. At 64 years old, John is living his dream of backpacking solo through Europe. That's impressive! He's originally from South Korea, but moved to the states 40 years ago with $300 in his pocket. He worked at his cousin's Korean grocery store in New York, sleeping in the attic and living a very meager lifestyle. Eventually, he got a job writing for the largest Korean-language paper in the US and worked his way up to assistant editor. After 20 years in that business, he opened his own grocery store, working 18 hour days to build a relationship with the community he served. He did very well for himself, and turned that money around to purchase shopping malls in South Korea. Now he's a freakin millionaire; all he wants to travel (he still writes travel dispatches for the newspaper) and set up some scholarship funds to help out the future generations. As I said, he's a pretty impressive guy! He even told me the story (with a smile on his face), of how two hoodlums stole his rolling luggage in Balboa, Spain. They came right up to him in the pouring rain, one smacking him on the back of the head and another hitting his hand to release the bag from his grip, ran to a waiting car, jumped in and sped off. It took the police 10 minutes to arrive, at which point John made a report but said he really wasn't too worried. It was just clothes in that bag, no worries. As he's telling me this story, he's laughing at the insanity of it all.

Anyways, we arrived in Istanbul at 6am, took a shuttle bus to Aksaray toward the brilliantly red and gold rising sun, and then found our way to the hostel (John is traveling without a plan, so he followed me). It was still early when we arrived, so we left our bags in the storage locker and went back out the door to see the surrounding neighborhood. My hostel is in Sultanahmet, which is the old part of Istanbul and home to sights such as the Hagia Sofia, Blue Mosque, Basilica Cistern, and Tokyapi Palace. After grabbing some breakfast (McDonalds - I was starving and they had pancakes), we walked down to the riverside, where fishing boats were unloading their cargo. Right next to the docks was a fresh fish market, selling the catches of the day. We continued along the seawall and saw many fishermen with really long poles, trying to get a nibble. None of them had much luck though (maybe because of the rain?).

We walked around some more, through the royal gardens and back into historical Sultanahmet, taking time to look at the exteriors of the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia. John bought me lunch, and then we checked into the hostel. By this time, around 1pm, I was exhausted from both my sleepless bus ride and all of the walking around. So I headed to bed, and John continued to walk around the city alone. I awoke at 6pm, feeling fully refreshed but hungry. The great thing is that there are literally 30 restaurants within two small blocks of my hostel, so I set out to find something that piqued my interest. I found it, right across from the four seasons hotel. The name of the place is Medcezir, serving all different kinds of Turkish food. What grabbed my attention, though, was the pictures of Jimmy Carter and his wife Rossalyn eating there - very cool. I asked the waiter, who was in some of the pictures, when Jimmy was there and his reply was "A year ago, today." He then sat me at the same table where the former president ate. I had a great pide - Turkish pizza (kind of like a french bread pizza) - with "roasting meat." I think it was beef, but I really don't care about specifics because it was so good!

Not a bad first day, I think. The Turkish people are very friendly and hospitable (though most of them are trying to sell you something all the time), and I'll be happy to research and report on some more of this amazing city.

Days 43 - 46: Sofia

Nothing happened...for the most part. It was rainy, cold and miserable for most of my stay in Sofia. So, I chilled at the hostel, talking with people and enjoying some coffee and jazz music. I met this guy from Riverside, California (east of LA) and we had a few beers, smoked a hookah, and swapped travel stories. I also went to this really cool bar where they have a tap at the table. It was me and five Brits, and as the tap has a meter on it to show how many liters had been consumed we took it upon ourselves to engage the rest of the tavern in a friendly competition (which we, of course, won handily).

Spaghetti and Beer (from a two liter bottle - weird) every night for dinner, just chillin while the rain falls. No regrets though, just living....

Peace and Love Y'all!

Day 42: Craziest Train Ride Ever (Belgrade to Sofia)

The day started out as any other so far - early wake up to catch a 0750 train from Belgrade to Sofia. I got myself to the station with plenty of time to spare, bought my ticket, got some breakfast, met a couple of Canadian dues who were heading the same way. You know, the usual routine when travelling around. I stepped on the train, expecting it to be just an ordinary 10 hour ride through the Eastern European wilderness. And that was the case for the first 7 hours or so. Then....shit got weird.

As we pulled into the last stop in Serbia before crossing the Bulgarian border, a large group of loud Bulgarians boarded the train. Up to this point, the two Canadians and I had been occupying a 6 seat cabin very comfortably by ourselves. "Great," I figured, seeing the masses board the train, "it looks like we're going to have company." And sure enough, this 4'5" lady who must have been over 60 walked into the cabin and asked (I suppose) if the other three seats were taken. I indicated they were not and moved my backpack, shifting seats to allow her and her two friends (equally short and old women) to sit down. No sooner had I done this, though, when the lady pulls a screwdriver out of her bag and starts unscrewing the headrest of her seat.

This confused me...a lot. At first, I thought that these were some kind of gypsies (although they didn't look like gypsies, they looked like anyone's grandmother) and they were going to strip the train for parts. But it quickly became apparent what they were up to when they opened up their bags and started pulling out cartons of cigarettes. Then came socks and stockings full of individual cigarette packs. The ladies started looking high and low for places to hide their Serbian smokes. Apparently, everyone who had just boarded the train was doing the same thing, judging by all of the commotion going on in the passageway. Bulkhead stantions and radiators were ripped open, filled with the illicit goods, then resealed. Socks full of cigarette packs were taped to the bottom of seats. One old lady even taped a bunch of packs to her waist! Yep, I was smack in the middle of a smuggling ring. After 45 minutes stopped at this station, the Serbian immigration police came on board (obviously on the take) and made a show of checking everyone's passport. And it only got crazier from there.

We finally got moving again, only to stop about 10 kilometers later when we crossed the Bulgarian border. The customs agents boarded the train with dogs and wands with mirrors on them, looking for anything illicit (as I learned later, cigarette smuggling from Serbia is big business here). I suspect that the Bulgarian cops were also in on the deal. Sure, they searched people's bags and made a show of looking around, but they could have been much more thorough in their search (it was definitely not up to US Navy customs standards). The officers looked at me and the two Canadians, scanned and stamped our passports, and went on their merry way. They stayed on board the train until the next stop, and the second we were clear of that station, the crazy scramble to recover all of the hidden smokes began.

People were running through the corridor, yelling at each other in Bulgarian. Everyone, it seemed, was making their way toward our cabin with stacks of cigarettes in their hands. One of the old ladies pulled out a calculator and and billfold, distributing cash to the other participants as they turned in their stash. The one lady sitting next to me was collecting cartons and cartons, shoving them into her purse which had the lining cut so to conceal the cigarettes. I laughed at all of this commotion, and the fact that the three old ladies in my cabin were apparently the ring leaders. The one with the purse smiled at me and said "Mafiosa!" I just smiled back and continued to laugh at this scene.

As we pulled into Sofia's train station (two hours late), the remaining illicit goods were thrown into shopping bags and everyone walked away, happy with their take for the day. At least 10,000 Euro changed hands that day, so it makes me wonder what they're getting for these cigarettes here in Bulgaria. They must be making quite a profit. Anyways, it was probably the craziest thing I've ever seen - and I now know how to smuggle cigarettes across the Bulgarian border (you learn something new every day)!

I managed to find my hostel, in spite of the Cyrillic street signs and was welcomed with a beer as soon as I walked in. It was exactly what I needed after a long (and crazy) day of travel!

Day 41: Belgrade

Got in late last night (train was an hour late), got a decent night of sleep, and saw some of Belgrade. In particular, I went up to the Belgrade fortress, which provided great views of this smog-blanketed city. I also spent a lot of time on park benches, watching how the Serbians interact with each other. Every Serb I met today was friendly (especially the girls at McDonald's when I ordered a coffee in my obviously American accent). There also happened to be a really cool art exhibition up at the fortress by Sony or some such company, touting their new digital photography technology by reproducing works of art by Monet, Van Gogh, and others, all looking as though you were staring at the real thing. Really, you could see all of the brush strokes, it was crazy.

BUT, all of that pales in comparison to this:

I had a facsinating conversation with Mya, one of the girls who works here, about the recent violence in the city. Apparently, the day before I arrived (Sunday 10/10), Belgrade held its first gay pride parade ever. They had scheduled one last year, but cancelled it out of concerns of violence that had been threatened by those across Serbia who oppose gay rights (ultranationalist Bigots). Under pressure from the European Union, a body in which Serbia is seeking membership, they allowed the rally to occur this year. This led to violence on the part of "hooligans" (mostly high school-aged boys from small villages in Serbia) against those marching in the parade, as well as Democratic and other left-wing party headquarters. Mya was at the parade (as a straight supporter of gay rights), and witnessed a lot of it. She was understandably appalled - she said she felt like her country was back in the 90s, when she was among the people on the streets protesting for human rights. It led to a discussion of the utter stupidity of nationalism, including that currently on display in America in the form of the Tea Party. Stupid people will be stupid everywhere, it seems.

While I'm glad that I missed this particular incident (although the police prescence in Belgrade is stil really high - there were cops on every corner as I was walking around today), it's a damn shame that a country of people who are trying to modernize and put themselves back together after Slobodan Milosevic are being drug down with this bs. Mya told me about how the former Yuogslavia was following World War II through the 90s - it wasn't part of the Soviet Union and therefore served as a meeting place for the east and west in Europe. She said that life was good then, and it was a very progressive (and officially socialist) place. Then, all of a sudden she didn't recognize her country anymore as the nationalism took hold and FR Yugoslavia broke up. Suddenly she was living in a war zone, with no running water and wearing torn up clothing. It's amazing how someone who has lived through that can be here today, fighting for the human rights of others. To me, Mya is a hero.

A risk that's worth taking

Day 40: Budapest to Belgrade

I really hated the fact that I had to leave Alex's hostel. He treated me with so much kindness and hospitality that I'm sure I will return one day. But, the show must go on and so I made my way to the train station to catch the next ride to Belgrade, Serbia. Why Serbia? Well, I'm trying to get down to Istanbul, I have to spend some time out of the Schengen Zone so I don't get a 1200 Euro fine for overstaying my visa at the end of the trip, and why the hell not? Who else do you know who has been to Serbia?

Anyways, I was going to go straight to Sofia, Bulgaria, but it's like a 17 hour train ride (no thanks), so I figured that I would break it up a little. I made it to the train station 45 minutes prior to the train's scheduled departure time of 1300 (1pm for you non-military or European folks). The trouble is, Budapest doesn't have automated ticket dispensers like EVERYWHERE ELSE, so you have to take a number and wait for a ticket agent. I grabbed a slip of paper that read "615" and looked up at the electronic board which read "579". Yeah, I'm thinking to myself, there's no way I'm going to make this train. 1300 comes and goes, the board reads "601". By 1315, my number was called. I was a little miffed that I had missed the train, but such is life. I walked up to the counter, bought my ticket (15 Euro - cheap as all get out), and was surprised when the lady told me, "Platform 6, the train is leaving in a couple of minutes."

So I dashed out onto the platform, and sure enough, there was the train that read "Budapest to Beograd." I'm not in Germany anymore, Toto. I jumped onto the train, thinking it was about to pull away...but not so much. About 10 minutes later, the train finally started to lurch forward as we departed to station. I said "Szia" (Hungarian for bye, which is pronounced like "see ya") to Budapest and settled into my seat for a mostly uneventful train ride. It kinda sucked though, as I had no water and just a bag of biscuits to sate me for the entire trip. I slept for the most part, so again no biggie.

I met a couple of Russian guys during one of our (many) extended stops, who in broken English told me that it would be wise to not tell the Serbians that I'm American (after laughing at the fact that an American would even go to Serbia), given the whole 1999 Kosovo war thing. This was kind of seconded by the border guard who just laughed at me when I handed over my US passport. Oh well, I guess I'm Canadian for a couple of days...

Day 39: Budapest

Chillaxing in the hostel with your fellow travelers is really an under-rated experience. That's exactly what I did today, and I loved it. Have some conversation, play some cards, drink some beer....simple life. For dinner, Csilla made us a cream of garlic soup (pretty tasty when you add bread crumbs).

No pub crawl tonight, as it's Sunday. This didn't stop the Germans from dragging me out to a bar (alright, I really didn't need that much persuasion) to drink a couple (yes, just a couple) of beers and play some fussball. The Germans call it table soccer, and apparently it's pretty popular, because they kicked my ass three ways to Sunday all night long. I used the "I'm American, it's really not that big over there" excuse, but was still pretty much slathered with good-natured abuse for the rest of the night. Interestingly, I also ran into Yuzo and Eric, my Canadian buddies from Salzburg (you know, the guys who ran around the city with their pants around their ankles). Small world!

We kept it an early night, as all of us were heading out and moving on the next day. Cheers to Budapest!

Day 38: Budapest

Despite staying up until 6am, having a really good conversation with my German friend Chris about German history, the state of the European Union, America's ridiculous foreign policy, et al, I actually got my ass in gear and walked over to Buda castle

This place

It was quite a nice walk, actually, as the weather finally decided to cooperate for once. It was a sunny, 70 degree day. Of course, being the cheap skate that I am, I decided to hike up to the top of Buda instead of taking the funicular. So like half an hour later and pretty winded, I reached the top. The view alone was worth the struggle though:

So, I spent my day walking the winding cobblestone streets of Buda (Budapest, it turns out, is actually two cities - Buda and Pest - separated by the Danube River). I was joined by a ton of people milling about the shops and markets, as well as a huge group of locals who were there for the annual Palinka and Sausage festival (see previous post about palinka). The festival was being held at the palace, and I could definitely go for some sausage, so I paid my entrance fee, got my brandy glass and sampled the fare. I only tried about three different palinkas (which was enough - 120 proof remember?), and had my fill of sausages. But it was really cool to interact with the local "brewers," for lack of a better word, and some very thirsty Hungarians.

Another cool thing about Buda - the cathedral with a mosaic-tiled roof (see below) and the outer turrets that look like sandcastles (ditto):

When I arrived back at the hostel, Alex was cooking up dinner (it was Csilla's day off and she was up at the palinka festival with everyone else). Thankfully, there was not a potato in sight and tonight we were having pasta with some kind of pepper reduction sauce (surprisingly not spicy). To a total carb-fiend like me (love me some pasta), this was a great meal. As usual, as soon as we cleaned our plates, Alex told us all to grab our coats - we were headed to a concert! We went back to one of the bars we had previously been to and checked out this pretty good Hungarian cover band. They played mostly American pop music from the 80's through now, a couple of Hungarian songs, and this really weird song I had never heard before that pretty much consisted of just shouting David Beckham's name. 

Anyways, I ran into Al, Kate and Katy, the Aussies with whom I had traveled to Budapest. Always nice to bump into people you already know when you're on the road. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with them, ending up at some random club that took up the top floor of a building that was once marked for demolition. It was the first dance club I'd been to in Europe (not really my scene), so I was amazed to see that white people still can't dance over here, but it's accepted and owned as fact. It kind of looked like the dance scenes from Charlie Brown - lots of head bobbing and feet going back and forth. Not a soul grinding up on anyone else...strange.

That aside, I had another great time with my fellow travelers and some native Budapestians into the wee hours of the morning and still managed to find my way back to my bed before the sun rose.

Day 37: Budapest

After a night of hookah and beers with the Germans and Norwegian (with some American study abroad kids thrown in for good measure) that culminated in a 5am return home, I was in no shape to get up early and walk around Budapest...so I didn't. Instead, I joined Alex and another American for lunch at this local cafeteria-style restaurant. I had some kind of chicken stew (they eat a lot of stews and soups over here - goulash is the natioanl dish) and, of course, a big heaping of potatoes. It was super cheap (like $2) and very tasty!

For dinner that night, I had more potatoes, in some kind of stew cooked up by Csilla. When dinner was over, she took everyone in the hostel out to the clubs and bars. We met up with her friend Sophia, who knew some really "secret" (and cheap) local places, so off we went. It was at one of these places that I first experienced palinka. Palinka is like a brandy that's made out of various fruits and even flowers. I had one called a barak meze - that would be peach and honey. The stuff is strong - about 120 proof. They serve it to you in what looks like a double shot glass, but there's no tossing this stuff back. The locals sip it, and so I followed in their footsteps.

The best part of the evening was discovering another culinary delight of Hungary - langos. Langos (pronounced lang-oash) is the mack daddy of all drunk food. They deep fry a disc of dough, then top it with garlic butter, sour cream, and shredded cheese....so freaking good! Each one is about 8 - 10 inches in diameter, and I quickly devoured my first one and went back for seconds. The second time around, I got one with ham fried into the dough. Heaven!

**So I've been getting a lot of shit from good old mother dearest, saying that it sounds like I'm drinking my way across Europe. Well, in a way I am but not really. I think that it's perfectly acceptable  to sample the local brew, in fact it would be criminal not to. Alcohol is such a big part of the European culture that some hostels even give you a shot of whatever the country is known for as soon as you check in. And I'm not getting Matt and Maggie's engagement party drunk, not even West Chester on a Friday night in summer drunk - just a few drinks with new friends pretty much every night. When you're hanging out with Aussies and Europeans, that's just how you roll. Alright, end of rant**


Peace and Love Y'all!

Day 36: Vienna to Budapest

So my new Aussie friends Al, Kate and Katie were heading off to Budapest at the same time that I was, so we decided to put our heads together and travel as a group. After the long night out, we were looking and feeling kind of rough in the morning, but we (eventually) managed to get ourselves out of the hostel and down to the bus station. We bought our tickets and had some time to kill (and were starving), so we sat down outside of the nice Italian/Austrian restaurant. The thing is, is was a nice sunny day when we sat down but of course five minutes later the wind kicked up. No worries though, we got through it and had a very enjoyable lunch and conversation. I got some more cordon bleu, chicken this time, and it was rally amazing. This time, it was stacked really thick with slices of ham and cheese...so good.

Anyways, we jumped on the bus and all took a nap (as we were all still feeling the night before). The next thing I knew, it was three hours later and we were entering the city limits of Budapest. We got on the metro (subway), where I had to say my goodbyes and transfer to another train. Emerging onto the cold, dark street in a city I knew nothing of, I pulled out my map (thankfully I had picked up a map of Budapest in Vienna). First of all, I hate getting to a new city at night. Secondly, you have no idea what direction you're heading when you exit a subway station. This is to say I got lost. Not crazy, completely in the wrong part of town lost. Just wander around a couple of blocks for twenty minutes before figuring out that you already passed the place lost. Whatever, such is the adventure of traveling.

I stood before the door of my chosen hostel - a large, imposing wooden door - and rang the bell as the helpfully posted (and thankfully English) signs instructed. I was buzzed in and took a small lift to the first floor (the ground floor is not the first floor over here), where I was met by Chilla, the only employee here. See, this place is owned and operated by a guy named Alex, who's the hardest working man in Budapest. For the last year and a half he's run this hostel by himself (Chilla was just hired a couple of weeks ago; she's on an internship). But let me tell you, this guy runs the best hostel that I've ever stayed in. As soon as you walk in, your standing in someone's kitchen. Basically the place is just an apartment - there's no reception desk or anything like that - with like 16 people staying here at any given time. Chilla took down my pertinent details, showed me where everything is on the map, and then told me "dinner is going to be in about an hour."

Huh? Yeah, let me tell you how awesome this is - Chilla and Alex cook everyone a traditional Hungarian meal every night, and everyone in the hostel comes together and shares the meal. How cool is that? I instantly felt like part of a family here, and I have to hand it to Alex for doing everything he does. I'll give more examples of his generosity in further posts. After dinner was done, Alex himself showed up and immediately walked over to me and greeted me with, "Hi, I'm Alex, you must be Kyle. How was Vienna?" Haha, it turns out that he facebooks everyone before they come stay with him!

The second thing he said was "alright, let's go." Every night, not only does he give you a great meal, but he then takes whoever wants to go out to the best local clubs. So Alex and I, joined by three Germans named Chris, Reno, and Phillip, and a Norwegian guy who lives in the apartment next to the hostel, went to the local hotspots and had a great time.

Day 35: Vienna

I spent the day walking around this place - Schloss Shonbrunn, the summer residence of the Emperors of Austria. I did not go inside, just walked the grounds...and they are amazing. The gardens are huge and contain all sorts of hidden treasures. For example, there's this thing:

That's a Roman ruin....or at least that's what it's supposed to look like. It was designed intentionally to look like a crumbling artifice of the once-great empire, as it was in vogue to do so in the 1700s. There's also an obelisk fountain with a grotto on the grounds, with hieroglyphics supposedly telling the story of the Habsburg dynasty. Aside from these oddities, there are walkways lined with perfectly groomed trees that form arches:

My evening was spent in the company of my roomates at the local pub. It was quite a cast of characters - Me, a couple of other Americans (Josh and Beth), an Indian named Rohit (awesome dude who's doing his PhD in Chemistry right now), two Argentines (dunno, they were kinda jerks), three Aussies (Al, Kate and Katie), and a couple of German Austrians for fun. We had a good time doing the usual sit around and BS about nothing until 3am. Which was awesome, until the next morning...

Day 34: Vienna

Vienna is a city of beauty - the buildings, the music, and especially the girls. I swear, 90% of the female Viennese population under 30 looks like a supermodel. It can be very distracting! ;)

That fact aside, I spent the day walking around the historic inner city and marveling at the architecture of The Imperial Palace. After standing around and looking at this amazing structure for some time, I walked over to the museum quarter, where I saw the funniest representation of Charles Darwin ever:

I'm on a Mother-F***ing Turtle - Wee!!!

I was getting hungry from all of the walking around, so I headed in to a local cafe where the bartender also served as the only waiter and busboy in the place. It was kind of weird, and the service was slow (but what can you expect with one guy running the whole place - and there were at least 25 people eating there), but I had a pretty awesome turkey cordon bleu. Now, cordon bleu is one of my all time favorite meals, so I know what I'm talking about here. In Vienna, they make it a little differently, as it presented basically as a schnitzel - so instead of the domed kind I'm used to, it's flat and takes up an entire plate. Still, this was some turkey and it filled me up.

The highlight of my day, and perhaps my trip so far, came in the evening. I attended a concert by the Wiener Hofburg Symphony Orchestra at the Imperial palace, in the same hall (kinda) where Mozart and Beethoven performed. The "kinda" there is because the original hall burnt down to the outer walls in 1992. But still, I got to listen to a great concert in the same physical space as those greats. The concert itself was amazing - easily in my top three musical experiences, along with watching over Lang-Lang's shoulder from the front row of the balcony and my first Broadway show (Phantom). The program consisted of Vienna's famous waltzes and marches, along with arias from "The Marriage of Figaro", "Don Giovanni", and "The Magic Flute". The opera singers were all brilliant, of course, but this one Asian tenor knocked the wind out of me and literally gave me goosebumps.

The comic relief of the evening was the drummer, who donned a train conductors hat and paddle while blowing a train horn for the first march of the evening. During one of waltzes, he played an ocarina-type whistle that consisted of only two notes. But he occasionally would play the notes in the wrong order, eliciting dirty looks and finger wagging from the conductor. The second time he did this, the conductor stomped and waved his score at the drummer, who in turned held his up and pointed to it. They went back and forth like this for the entirety of the song, and at the end of it all the conductor pulled a red card from his pocket (soccer-style) and waved it at the drummer. Further hilarity ensued later in the evening when a stump was brought onto stage, into which the drummer inserted two axe heads, donned an apron, and started playing the axe heads with hammers. Of course the conductor got in on the action too, grabbing the hammers from the drummer and going at it on the axe heads. This led the drummer to give up, pull a playboy out of the apron and share it with the now-distracted brass section (the centerfold was a picture of a puppy). It was pure comedy of errors, and the audience loved every minute of it!

The final song of the evening, as is traditional, was the Radetsky March. This piece was written by Johann Strauss Sr and is a very quick march. As is also traditional, the conductor turned his back to the orchestra and led the audience in clapping along with the melody. He even gave us direction as to the dynamics and tempo. It was a great time, and the orchestra definitely deserved (and received) a standing ovation.

Day 33: Vienna

It was another beautiful sunny day as I boarded the train in Salzburg, but as is par for the course so far, it was cold and gray when I arrived in Vienna. Ah, it seems to always be that way - miserable weather when I arrive, beautiful when I leave. No worries though, Vienna is awesome regardless of the weather.

I checked in to Jack's Hostel, which is a cozy 20 bed place (10 in one room, 6 in another, and 4 in the third - I stayed in the six bed dorm). The owner, Jack, is always there and he's a pretty cool guy. He's stayed in hostels all over the world and decided to start one of his own, and is now planning on building a second one. The girl working the reception desk welcomed me, and after the normal check in stuff she took me on a tour of the hostel. She then whipped out a map and showed me all of the good sights to see in the city. That's good customer service!

It was approaching sunset when I arrived, so I didn't have a chance to go see anything. But a German girl named Jessica, who was staying in my room, started up a chat and we decided to go check out a little Aussie-run pub that was recommended by Jack. And so we did, and we had a couple of drinks while discussing the problems of today's world and the history of 20th century Germany. I've said it before, and I'll say it a million times more - this is why I travel. It's nice to see the buildings and learn some history, but without these personal interactions with a diverse group of people, traveling would essentially be pointless.

We called it an early night and headed back to the hostel (after trying to assist a man who approached us as we walked out of the pub, bleeding from the head. I don't know what language he was speaking, but it wasn't German. Either way, we managed to get him into the pub and have the bartender call an ambulance).

Day 32: Salzburg

It's probably a good thing that everything is closed on Sunday...because after the last night out I needed rest. It turned out to be a beautiful day though, and when I finally dragged myself out of bed I walked around for a bit just to enjoy the nice weather!

Day 31: Salzburg

Ah Salzburg, the home of Mozart and "The Sound of Music" - and believe me the city was full of music today!

After checking out of my four-star digs and into an equally nice hostel (only six beds in the room this time), I went to explore the city center of Salzburg. As I said, this is a pretty small city - the population is only about 160,000. That being said, it's a very chill place. I wandered around the Aldstadt (the Old City) for a while, taking in the Baroque architecture that earned the city a place on the UNESCO World Heritage list. The Salzburg Cathedral and the Residenz Palace form several small squares, known as the Residenz-, Dom-, and Kapitel-platzes. These were, of course, filled with tourists. I was looking for a ticket office, which is now non-existent, for the Mozart concert at the Hoehnsalzburg Fortress, built in the 12th century. The only other place that sells tickets is the Fortress itself, so I decided to go on up there.

Yeah, up there

I turned my eyes upwards to the imposing Hohensalzburg Fortress, which dominates the Salzburg skyline. So, being the young buck that I am, I decided to walk all the way up to it instead of taking the tram. I figure that I've been walking at least 5 km per day, this should be a piece of cake. Yeah, not so much - I forgot about the whole higher elevation = less oxygen thing. So, after many breaks along the way (including one switchback where a group of girls did an amazing acapella rendition of "Mad World" - this is the city of music after all) I finally reached the castle atop the hill. It's got the best views of Salzburg, as well as some pretty interesting rooms (including a torture chamber) to look at.

After poking around the castle for a while, I found the ticket office for the concert (located in the marionette theater, which kind of creeped me out). As luck would have it, there was one more ticket available - the gentleman manning the ticket booth even gave me the student price despite the fact that I don't have a student ID. My mission accomplished, and having taken in the breathtaking views, I decided to make my descent back into town. The walk down was much easier on the lungs (though not really on the knees). Walking into the Residenzplatz, I was greeted by the sound of a brass band. A couple of them, actually. Firstly, there was a traditional Austrian wedding party being led from the church to wherever they were off to, with a couple of trumpet and tuba players leading the way. Pretty neat to see.

Walking further into the square, I found myself in the middle of a marching band competition - there were bands dressed in the native garb from all over Austria and Bavaria. They each marched along the roads forming the Residenzplatz, and one of them did a really cool demonstration on the square itself. So I happily sat there and watched the various bands as they were judged for a good couple of hours.

After all this hullabaloo, I walked around the small streets of the city which are lined with very high-end clothing and jewelry stores. It was about dinner time, so I grabbed some (really good) spaghetti carbonara (a man cannot live on wurst and schnitzel folks) at this small Italian restaraunt. By the time I had savored my meal and the obligatory glass of wine, it was about time to head back up to the fortress for the concert. This time, I was smart and took the tram! There was a special celebration going on in Salzburg this particular Saturday night, as all of the museums were open until at least midnight - so there were people all over the fortress. They even had a glowing "labyrinth" for the kiddies.

The concert, featuring a chamber orchestra and horn player, was held in the Golden Hall of the fortress, a room built in 1500 by Prince Archbishop Leonhard Van Keutschach as a place to entertain dignitaries. The orchestra played pieces by W. A. Mozart (obviously), Franz Schubert, and - the most entertaining piece of the evening - a little ditty composed by Leopold Mozart for the Alpenhorn. Yeah, one of these:

The horn player, who did an amazing job, explained the history of the Alpenhorn as a means to communicate with the shepards in the fields surrounding the alps. The notes of the horn are limited to what the player can do with his mouth, so there's room for error (the horn player called them "Alpine dis-grace notes", haha). It was quite an experience to hear an actual song played on one of these. The chamber orchestra ended the night with all four movements of "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik", one of my favorites. {A couple of notes here: firstly, European audiences are great in that they know not to clap between movements. Also, the players showed a lot of enthusiasm and seemed to really like their jobs - my kind of players. Lastly, the audiences here also know the value of a standing ovation - this concert didn't really rate one and therefore one was not given. The orchestra did, however, play an encore by Beethoven.}

Following the concert, which I loved, I was walking back through the old city towards my hostel when I heard singing. A church youth group, accompanied by a guitar, flute, and percussion box, were singing in the square. They sounded amazing! It was so awesome to see and hear all of the music that fills this city.

I headed got home around 10pm and was going to hit the bed, but I decided to stick my head into the bar to see if anyone was around. I grabbed a pint of the local Stiegl beer and sat down with these two dudes from Canada who were playing quarters with a 50 cent Euro. We got to talking, the usual traveler's conversations, and were soon joined by two British girls who were moving to Vienna to teach English but couldn't find housing (a very common problem in this small city), as well as an American named Corey who studies business in Barcelona. Around midnight, Corey and the girls retired to bed and I thought that it was about time for me to do the same. The Canucks had different plans though, and I found myself sitting with them and a group of Spaniards until the bar closed at 1am. The night was still young, however, according to the Spaniards, so we met some more Spaniards at an apartment in the city and headed out to the bars and clubs.

So, long story short, I got back to the Hostel at 5am (after the Canadians had gotten ridiculously drunk, decided to run through the streets of Salzburg with their pants around their ankles, and promptly face planted on the cobblestones - ouch!).

Day 30: Salzburg

ONE MONTH IN.....

So here I am, one month into my travels and I find myself in the charming little city of Salzburg, Austria. This, among other things, is the birthplace of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (see Mozart's Birth House below).

 The first night in town, I arrived in town sans-reservations for a hostel (I got one for the following two nights, but no luck on the first night)...so I booked myself into a swanky four-star hotel at about 120 Euros a night. After a month of living (and sharing a shower) with anywhere from 8 - 22 other people, it was a nice treat to have a room all to myself. {I have to say though that I love being in hostels with other travelers because it's just so darn easy to meet people} I took a nice long shower, one in which I didn't have to hold down a button and try to wash myself with one hand, and then plopped on the bed to watch some CNN international and catch up on my world events. To my surprise, pictures of Allentown, PA came on screen showing the flooding caused by Tropical Storm Nicole (that bitch). So it was nice to see some video from home(ish), even if it was of cars getting stuck in flood waters.

I didn't see that much of Salzburg today, but the next day definitely made up for it.

Day 29: Fussen

After all the partying at Oktoberfest, I needed somewhere quiet to recollect myself. Luckily, Fussen is just a two hour train ride south. It's a beautiful mountain village at the base of the Alps with the clearest blue water I've ever seen flowing through it's river. Not far from Fussen is Schloss Neuschwanstein, King Ludwig's castle that was the model for the Disney castle. This, unfortunately, I did not see. You see, I kinda jacked up my trip to Fussen...

I knew I had made reservations for a hotel there, but in my hungover fog the morning after my final night of Oktoberfest, I couldn't find the reservations. I didn't even know what the name of the hotel was - so I booked a bed in the youth hostel, but I could only stay one night. Let it be known that two days later I found the reservation in my Gmail account, under the "travel" folder - serves me right for trying to be organized I guess. So anyways....I stayed in this youth hostel, which was one of the weirdest I've been in so far - the place didn't have door keys (because, as the very friendly Bavarian dude at the reception desk told me, "you share with other people the room."). But it did have a laundry room, so at least my clothes were now clean (they were covered in beer from Munich and hadn't been washed since Berlin, so yeah they definitely needed washing).

I strolled around the village, checking out the medieval town gate and the little streets around it - it was quite quaint. My plan was to rest up and wake up early, then go to the castle before jumping on a train back to Munich in order to go to Salzburg. The resting part happened, the castle....not so much. The next morning, I woke up to it pouring sheets of rain - cold, big drops of rain. This is not ideal weather for mountain climbing, which is par for the course when visiting the Schloss, so I decided to catch the early train to Salzburg. No castle for Kyle :(

Just above the telephone pole you can make out Schloss Neuschwanstein...that's as much of it as I saw

But at least I have an excuse to visit Bavaria again, I suppose!

Day 28: Last Day in Munich

I slept in past noon on my final day at Oktoberfest. No biggie, as there's really not that much going on in the beer tents during the day. When I finally got in gear and went off to the Weisn grounds (after gorging on some Burger King - it was calling to me), I headed back to the Hofbrau tent (best beer at Oktoberfest and liveliest crowds). It was still early, maybe 3pm or so, therefore I had no problem getting some elbow room at a stand up table. There I met a guy from San Paulo Brazil who's backpacking around Europe by himself, as well as a Hungarian dude from Budapest named Pocsi. Posci and I got to talking whilst consuming our beers, and he turned out to be a really friendly guy. He gave me his card and told me to call him when I'm in Budapest so that he can show me the local spots. Very cool. As it was my last night in Munich, I went heavy on the beers. But the beer gods were very good to me.

Around the table was assembled a collection of fascinating people, from Irishmen to Spaniards, a few Canadians and Aussies for good measure, and a whole gaggle of honest to god local Bavarians. I spent most of the night drinking and talking, singing and laughing, even dancing with these people. Many pictures were taken, most of which can be shown in public, and facebook names were exchanged. Most importantly, many Mas were consumed (by the way, the later it gets, the less beer you have to buy...half-full glasses start collecting on the table and you grab the first one you can get your hands on when it's time to toast) and many shouts of Prost (cheers) were uttered. And of course, every ten minutes the band plays "Ein Prosit" (a toast) while everyone raises their glasses and klinks them together. It's definitely the best party I've ever been to.

Day 27: Munich

The second day of Oktoberfest, I went down to the grounds around 1:00 pm. Tuesdays are family days at Weisn, so there were kids everywhere. During the day, the tents are less crowded and the bands take a lot more breaks. I walked into the Lowenbrau tent, and who do I see but the three German dudes from the Hofbrauhaus?!? So I ambled up to them and asked if I could join them, and we proceeded to have some good broken English conversation over a mas (okay, here's the thing about a mas - it's a litre of the brewery's special Oktoberfest beer. It costs 10 Euro, which sounds high for a beer, but it's a freakin litre! It comes in a huge glass mug, and the darn thing can be hard to hold as it's heavy and the handle is usually slick. So you can either man up and build your forearm strength by holding it correctly, or you can wimp out and put your hand through the handle, cradling the glass. For the first couple of swigs, I usually did the latter).  I also had a nice chat with an elderly couple from Missouri, who were Oktoberfest virgins as well. I had some awesome pork loin with the skin deep fat fried - so good - and stuck around until the group that reserved the table for the evening came in around 5pm. It was definitely about time to go anyways, as one of my new German friends thought it would be a good idea to lift up the skirt of some girl's dirndl and almost got beat up by her husband and her father. And of course, she slapped him - twice. I tried to tell him it's like a museum - look but don't touch - but he was several liters of beer ahead of me so I don't think it got through.

Yeah, this guy - this picture was taken about 10 minutes prior to his little incident

 Evenings are when the party really starts, so I walked my half-drunk (I think I was 2 litres of beer into it. The beer here is 6% ABV too, they call 3% "light" beer) ass over to the Hofbrau tent and slid my way into a stand up table. These are elbow-high platforms where you can put your beer, but there aren't benches, which is probably a good thing because I had almost fallen on people the night prior after my third mas. Interestingly, the people who were gathered around this table were Army officers stationed over here (lucky bastards). It's always good to talk shop with the military folks. More beer was drunk, more drunk was I, and a good time was had. I'm not really sure how I got back to the hostel, but I ended up with a bag of warm candied pecans (delicious) in my pocket and in my own bed the next morning, so whatever.

Day 26: Munich...and...OKTOBERFEST!!!

I got an early start (6:30 am - I haven't seen that hour in quite some time) and joined my two new Aussie friends (Tristan and Dave) on the student bus from Prague to Munich. It was much cheaper than traveling by train - 20 Euro as opposed to 60 - and only took an hour longer. Plus, they give you free hot drinks (I definitely needed coffee that early) and they show movies along the way. The movie selection was shite - Lady in the Water and The Notebook. But that meant that I could look out the window and watch the countryside change from city to pastures, rolling hills to pine forests. Bavaria has these skinny pine trees that are perfectly straight and really tall.

Once I got to my hostel in Munich (after getting lost and having to pop into an internet cafe to find my way), I dropped my stuff and headed to Marienplatz, which is the old town square. This is home to all of the  cool old buildings, including a sweet clock, none of which I really got a good look at or learned anything about. I was after one thing - good beer and good food. I turned the corner and headed to the Hofbrauhaus, which is known as a tourist destination but was actually recommended to me by a Bavarian girl in Prague. The food is fantastic - I never knew sauerkraut could actually be good until I ate it here. And of course, the weisse (wheat) beer was wundebar! It's typical Bavarian seating, one of those just pick a table and sit down type of deals. I happened to pick one with three German dudes sitting there, and we had the typical "you're in Europe by yourself?" discussion that I usually have with people. Cool dudes - more on that later.

The Main Event

My stomach full of wurst and sauerkraut, I decided to go have a "sober look" at the actual Oktoberfest grounds. Yeah, it turns out there's no such thing really. Weisn, as the locals call it, is huge! Just walking into the park, alongside the lederhosen and dirndl-clad crowds, there's an atmosphere of celebration and cheer. There are carnival rides (which I did not ride), game booths, tons of souvenir and food vendors, and most importantly, the beer "tents". I use quotes there because these massive wooden structures are more like temporary beer halls packed with benches and tables. Trying to walk from one end of the hall to another, especially in the evenings when the crowd is thick and the beer is flowing, can be quite a daunting task. I walked into the Paulaner tent, just to check it out, and immediately had a smile on my face. The band was playing 80s pop music while everyone stood on the benches and sang. It's impossible not to have a good time at Oktoberfest!

After doing a full loop around the hall, I exited and walked over to the Hofbrau tent. Same deal - everyone rocking out to the great band. Here, though, is where my sobriety ended, as I was invited onto a bench by a bunch of Italian guys. It was more like "Hey, where's your beer?" to which I replied "I don't have one!" to which the response was "well get up here and get one!" So there I was, my first Oktoberfest Mas in hand, singing a Beatles medley with a bunch of Italians. And once they found out that I was American, and that I had lived in California, they went nuts. They shouted at every girl who passed by our table, "Here is your California Dream Guy!" Yeah, totally nutters...but lots of fun.

There were a couple of German girls with the Italian guys, one of whom was named Annika, from Augsberg. She had on this shirt that was written in Italian - she had no idea what it said, as the Italian guys had given it to her. It said something like "Team Hot Girl". Anyways, Sara taught me how the moves to this German song called "it's a beautiful day" (I think), which I swear I learned in German class many years ago.  It involves various motions, such a jumping, flexing, raising the roof, swimming....I don't know, but it's a whole lot of fun to sing and dance to when you're drunk. I'll have to figure out the name and the lyrics so I can teach everyone back home.

So that was my first night of Oktoberfest - and it was a blast!

Day 25: Prague

So, it's noon here and I just spent the morning catching up on my writing and such. It's still raining, but I'm going to go out this afternoon and poke around. I really want to catch a concert of the classical variety if I can find one tonight. The goal is to avoid drinking altogether today so that my liver can rest before I hit Munich tomorrow....

------UPDATE AS OF 5:30PM-------

Despite the continuous rain, I decided to go explore the city a little more. One reason was practical - I had to go get a bus ticket for tomorrow to get to Munich. It leaves at 7:30 am and takes about an hour longer than the trains, but it's half the price (30 Euro) and you get as much coffee as you want (yea!), they show movies, and it's a better way to see the countryside. I'll be hitting Munich at about 1:30 pm, so I'll have plenty of time to check into my hostel and get over to the fairgrounds for Oktoberfest.

After purchasing my ticket, I took the metro one stop over to Namesti Republicky, near the Gunpowder Tower - part of the old city wall. As I exited the train, I found myself inside a huge and very modern shopping mall called the Paladium. The dichotomy of this ancient city dawned on me, in that while there are so many beautiful historical buildings, this is still a modern, functioning city. In fact, this is exactly what was pointed out to me by the Starbucks girl as I waited for my coffee to brew (before you get all anti-American-consumerism on me, Starbucks is really the only place to get good old fashioned brewed coffee to go around here). I walked around the mall for a little bit, just to see what was on offer. No big differences from America, although it is a little cheaper here.

I exited the Paladium and headed over to the old town square to see the Astronomical clock strike on the hour. Every hour, the four figures on the side of the clock "come to life" (their heads and arms move around) and the patron saints of Bohemia appear in the two windows at the top of the clock. At the end, the golden rooster on the top of the clock gives a kind of pathetic crow, and then the bells toll the hour. It was pretty underwhelming, but very impressive if you take into account that this thing was built in the 1400s. Following the bells, some guy at the top of the tower played a little ditty on the trumpet and was met by cheers from the crowd below.

My last stop of the day was the market in the new town square that I mentioned earlier. I walked through the stalls of artisans, with their blown glass and crystal (which is apparently a big thing here) and hand made ceramics. There was even a blacksmith doing ironwork right there on the street. The best stand was this one:

These little heart-attack inducers are called trdelnik (don't ask me how to pronounce that) - sweet doughy creations cooked over an open flame and then rolled in a sugar and walnut mix. They wrap the dough around these big wooden stakes, so when you get one it looks like a giant curly fry. They are so freakin delicious! Coffee and trdelnik in hand, I happily walked myself back to the hostel. I'm going to have an early night tonight in order to catch the early bus.

On a programming note, I'm going to be at Oktoberfest....so there probably won't be any posts for a couple of days, unless I start to drunk-blog (which could be very interesting). But be assured, there will be tales of drunkenness and maybe pictures of me sporting lederhosen if I can get my hands on some - so stay tuned!

Peace and Love, Y'all