Tom, high school football coach of the Lincolnway East Griffins, was given a coaching opportunity to go to St. Louis after the team’s nearby playoff game to scout an opponent. This meant a free night in a hotel in the small city of Missouri and a few free meals, so of course Tom and I jumped at the chance. After watching the Griffins lose in the playoffs, (meaning we didn’t even have to do the scouting), we drove on to St. Louis that evening. We were psyched to see the huge Gateway Arch greeting us from the expressway, lit up in full force. We drove around the city a bit, passing the Cardinals baseball stadium and a few other recognizable sites, before checking into our surprisingly swanky hotel which upgraded our room just because. We were granted a deluxe corner suite with wall-to-wall windows displaying a full view of the Arch… it looked so close you could jump to it! We dressed up for a night out on the famed boardwalk, Laclede’s Lady, exploring the nightlife. Two pulled pork sandwiches and a few beers later, we were having great fun bar-hopping until later in the evening when some not-so-friendly looking characters emerged from the darkness. We took this opportunity to leave the boardwalk and hit up a Casino where Tom won a random $50 off one coin in a slot machine. Score. The next morning we left our fancy suite to explore the streets. We opted to wait in the hour long line for a ride to the top of the Gateway Arch, the tallest memorial in the United States – and we are so glad we did! We got our ticket numbers and perused the mediocre museum built into the basement below the Arch before being paraded with other tourists like cattle into a dark tunnel. We joined three other people into a little white pod reminiscent of an alien spaceship from “Men In Black”, snapped on seatbelts, and were in for the ride. All of a sudden we were picking up a shocking amount of speed… our little alien pod swinging back and forth like crazy all the way up in darkness. At the top, we were allotted 15 minutes to gape out the pea-sized windows on all sides, admiring the cityscape below. This really gave a perspective of how high we had traveled in such a short span (630 feet to be exact)… it was scary to see. After being transported back to ground level safely, we wandered the streets in search of a cute local restaurant. No such luck, so we settled on Hooters. Don’t judge. The wings were great and we were waited on by the St. Louis Hooter of the Year, so I’d say it was a win. Our short stint in St. Louis gave us a good perspective of the small yet vibrant city. Our last night we drove to Tom’s old college stomping-grounds, Illinois State, and partied the night away at familiar hotspots with good friends. We had once again mastered the jam-packed weekend trip on a budget.
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Travel can range from fabulous jet-setting to faraway lands, all the way to measly adventures easy on the pocketbooks. My boyfriend Tom and I couldn’t quite afford any fancy vacations just a few months out of college, (not even a quaint bed and breakfast was within budget), so the Fall and Winter of 2009 brought some drivable getaways rewarding us with some unexpected adventure. First came the next best thing to a hotel or hostel… a tent. After a stop at Costco to fill up on hotdogs and beer, we drove over 2 hours east into Buchana, Michigan to an adorable camping resort, Fuller’s. The sizeable camp grounds have been around since 1887, giving them a vibe of simpler times and small pleasures. Tom and I set up camp at the top of a hill, hidden beneath some of the tallest trees I’ve seen. We were the only ones on the hilltop that night which brought absolute serenity. After unloading our massive tent and food, we made our way down to the beach where we napped and swam away the afternoon. We cozied up by a fire, roasted hotdogs, burgers, and marshmallows, and sipped champagne out of red Solo cups. Our slumber was peaceful until we were unpredictably disturbed in the middle of the night. Knowing we were the only humans on the hill that night and fighting the pitch black surroundings, we pondered at what could be causing the ruckus just a few feet from our tent. Was it a bear? A deer? A lioness? Frozen in fear, I sent Tom out with a flashlight to investigate. Sure enough, a mischievous raccoon had found our bag of marshmallows accidentally left outside by yours truly. Mystery solved. The next morning we awoke to a beautiful sunny day and an empty bag of marshmallows. We set out for the beach again and met up with a co-worker of Tom’s and his charming girlfriend. The foursome enjoyed some beach volleyball and swimming – and just as a rainstorm began to set in, I noticed something out in the distance along the shore… a giant blob! Of course the next move was to sneak over to the three-story wooden platform leading to the giant, air-filled mat calling our names. One by one, we flung our bodies onto the weight of the blob, catapulting the next person high into the air only to splash face-first into the water. This was GREAT fun. Thank goodness for our two non-amateur campers who kept us dry in the tents they set up to prevent rain, well-fed, and occupied with games. The rain finally subsided in time for some games of bags and lots of drinking around a bonfire into the wee hours of the night. To avoid a soggy floor beneath a haggard tent, Tom and I opted to sleep comfortably in the car. A dirty shower in the public restrooms later, Tom and I bid adieu to Fuller’s Campgrounds and made our way to the nearby sand dunes in perfect weather. We spent the day traversing the dunes, jumping cliffs, climbing trees, and playing like kids. A gorgeous sunset and couple of beers later, we hit up Blue Chip casino for some ill-advised gambling. Later that night we were happy with the trip we had made on less than $100. We were also happy, however, to be reunited with our beds. For Photos of this trip, see Buchanan on the Photos Page, or CLICK HERE.
My family and I have been on many-a boat trip in our years as amateur mariners navigating our beloved schooner, (fittingly dubbed “Szo Far Szo Good”). The 50 foot vessel is home to our summer days, cruising Lake Michigan and enjoying some sun and H2O to rid our minds of frigid winters in Chicago. We had journeyed with organized boat trips before, (sometimes with 20+ other boats), courtesy of B & E Marine - and even once thought it was a great idea to bring along friends… a laughable nine people aboard the tight quarters. The summer of 2009 brought one of these excursions – this time to South Haven, Michigan, with just the family and my boyfriend Tom, and my brother’s friend Mike. We crossed the lake into Michigan City, Indiana and set out for South Haven from there early in the morning the following sunrise. Tom and I occupied ourselves with intense Play Doh shaping contests during the wavy five hour ride. (The contest was dominated by yours truly). It wasn’t long before we were docked, changed, and hitting the beaches of South Haven. We basked in the hot sun all day, and capped it off with a pleasant barbeque dinner on the boat dock followed by long island ice teas atop a ship turned bar. The next day’s wind brought choppy waters, which Tom and I embarrassingly thought our two person kayak rental could withstand. We continuously flipped into the water before giving up and settling for beach paddle ball and“skid boarding” – a dangerous hobby of attempting to surf on land where the waves hit the beach. Ouch. That night was the main event – the “Luau” B & E Marine threw on the dock… We dressed in the most obnoxious tiki patterns we could find, got “laid”, and were serenaded by live music as we ate a delicious meal. We attempted but failed to silly string Zach as it was his birthday, and had a fun night of karaoke in the South Haven beach town that evening. The next day was the annual Dog Show/Festival along the water – where locals bring every kind of canine imaginable, enjoying the doggy stands and German Shepherd trick shows. The best laugh of the entire trip came soon after with a failed “Dog Dancing” performance by a crazy lady dressed in Indian garb. Despite a music malfunction, she performed embarrassing dance movements while her mischievous partner refused to follow along, ultimately running into the street mid-performance and almost becoming road kill. Tom and I later rented bikes, cruising the cute shops and neighborhoods in town, and getting drunk on the beach. Our trip concluded the next day as we sailed back across the lake to Chicago. We floated on tubes in the Chicago harbor sipping frozen margaritas. Aloha! It was my last semester of college and thereby my final year of competitive cheerleading at the University of Illinois. This upcoming trip would be my third Spring in a row at the familiar hotspot Daytona Beach, Florida – site of the NCA Cheerleading Nationals Competition each year. Not only is this a great week off from school with fun teammates and a change in scenery, (escaping the unbearably cold U of I campus), it is also a chance to showcase what we worked all year for as a team – spending countless hours in the gym training our behinds off. It is always a mix of emotions when I arrive: excitement, nervousness, anxiety, exhaustion and soreness from the intense week of practice, and euphoria all at the same time! The routine is the same each Nationals trip – and this year was no exception. We bus it from the airport to the hotel (after flying in the wee hours of the a.m.) only to quickly change into workout gear and hit the beachfront for a sunset practice amongst the palm trees. Tumbling, stunting, and dancing in the light of the colorfully-painted sky is always a favorite of mine. We effortlessly get back into the swing of things and enjoy showing off our hard-earned skills. This year we even had time to hit the pool first due to our early arrival. We laid out in the sun and, despite the chilling temperature of the water, braved the ocean waves. That night we dressed up for a night on the strip enjoying an Italian team dinner to gain back some much-needed calories. Sleep was a struggle as the next morning is Prelims of the competition… I woke at 5am to begin curling my long tresses and help apply makeup to the team’s sun-kissed and nervous faces. Warming up at the Ocean Center Arena is a surreal experience – surrounded by hundreds of teams showing their best skills ready to compete. After a whirlwind practice on the practice mat backstage, we are stuffed behind a threatening black curtain which will open to smoke machines and overbearing lights upon our announcement to the competition floor. This is the worst part of Nationals. What is probably five minutes feels like an eternity… my palms sweating, legs shaking, and heart beating out of my chest. When they call our name and we run out onto the mat – my fears subside and I have the time of my life. The booming music and cheering crowd gets us going – and our performance was solid and one of the best we have done! Though we were not one of the top teams in the country in our talent-packed division, we entered day two confident. The afternoon was spent at none other than IHOP, then practicing some more, showering up, and enjoying a team dinner in the hotel. The next day of competition was Finals where we placed tenth – suitable enough for us, meaning we could spend the rest of the sunny day in bathing suits watching the other teams compete while sipping Margaritas. That we did – and enjoyed every minute. After doing a beachside photo shoot in uniform, we basked in the sun sitting on towels with thousands of other athletes, watching the final competitions of the best teams in the country. (This is cool if you like the sport – though I realize most do not). I got tipsy enough to shower up and keep the party going with the team. Me and the other seniors gave parting speeches and took celebratory champagne toasts before heading out to the infamous club “Razzle’s”for a night of ridiculous dancing. This night of course ended in the hotel pool at about 4am. Our last day in Florida was spent sunbathing, shopping, and throwing each other around at Stuntfest, a crazy compilation of athletes from all the teams throwing crazy and often illegal stunts. We spent a team bonding night at our pool and bid adieu to the sandy shore the next morning. This was my last cheerleading performance after almost a decade in a sport I have loved since I was little. I was sad to close this chapter in my life for good…though you still may sometimes find me flipping around the beach. For pictures from this trip, visit the Photos Page or click here!
I returned to Chicago to the familiar faces of family and friends, good food, and my favorite city in the world dressed in its best for Christmas. A few Holiday parties and a homey holiday later, I fabulously brought in the New Year – 2009. A day later it was time to hop in a limo headed to the airport at 4am… the ultimate family vacation was ahead. My brother Zach, sister Ashley, Dad, Mom and I would enjoy a 10-day trip of relaxation and fun. We spent a day and a half in Florida enjoying the hot sun, and were ecstatic to board the Crown Princess for our week-long Caribbean getaway! We sipped mojitos and explored the familiar vessel (we have been exclusive Princess-fans since we were younger), and took off to the honk of the commanding horn. That night we dressed up for our first elegant dinner of many – and I was delighted to be re-acquainted with the delectable treat of chocolate mousse fittingly named “The Loveboat Dream”. We sang karaoke in the lounge until close, and got some shuteye amidst the ocean waves. The next day brought an all-you-can-eat brunch (I love cruises) and a bucket of beers. Laying in the sun aboard the ship deck was euphoria… our first island stop came soon after – Princess Cays! This Princess-only island is a man-made tourist escape lacking authenticity but evoking pure beauty and plenty of bars. We got a bit drunk in the sun and were last to leave the island and board our ship again – sad to sail away from the private oasis. That night we fancied up for dinner which was topped off with some lemon cello shots and another karaoke contest in the lounge bar. My Tina Turner impression was uncanny… minus the singing. We got our groove on in the impressive nightclub gaping over the dark sea, and turned it in for another relaxing and otherwise uneventful day at sea the following day. We had a full day of sunlight, food buffets, and beers. When we needed a break from the rays, we would wonder the ship and find respite in the many activity rooms… even catching a live acrobatic show in the lobby. We topped off the lazy day with a delicious meal and night on the ship for formal night, dressed in long gowns and tuxes. We played “James Bond” sipping martinis in the piano bar, saw a live comedy show, and followed dinner with a singing and dancing musical in the theatre. The next day brought a bit of adventure with a large catamaran excursion which exported us to another beach – a slice of paradise for the day. I spent a large portion of the excursion spying on a young couple enjoying their honeymoon – and we all boarded the sailboat for a bumpy ride back to the ship, enjoying gorgeous sunset views along the way. That night was of course followed with an unnecessarily large meal, and some equally unnecessary gambling in the casino. We woke up our fifth day at sea to the gorgeous U.S. Virgin Island of St. Thomas, my favorite of the trip. We hopped in a local cab which drove us way up the mountain town where we were rewarded with insane views of the beaches, islands, and never-ending ocean below. We made our way across the island to the coveted beach rated one of the Top Ten National Geographic Beaches, Magen’s Bay. The title was well-deserved with the jutting rock formations, shallow blue waters, and pure white sand. I basked in the day, wishing it would never end. We did a small photo shoot on a nearby rock, and came across a wedding ceremony set up for later. That night was spent on the ship, reminiscing of the gorgeous day we had experienced. The following day was another relaxing one at sea – and that night we played up the decadence with our second formal night. I loved pretending to be aboard the Titanic in my flowing magenta gown, (excluding the whole sinking part). We imbibed on red wine and champagne while gluttonously consuming as much fresh lobster as we could. Zach and Dad looked particularly dapper in their matching white tuxedo jackets, and Dad even sang some Sinatra at the karaoke bar! Our last day brought a stop at Grand Turk, a bustling island which boasted a Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville swim-up bar as its best asset. We basked in alcohol and drinking games on this final day and as the sun set, we knew it was out last day in paradise. The trip had been an ideal way for me to relax from a non-stop semester abroad, and really bond with my wonderful family. This trip was probably the last of our family vacations, and it is one I won’t soon forget… For more pictures from the Caribbean, visit the PHOTOS page or click here.
After returning from Switzerland I was faced with hard reality and a wake-up call. I had two weeks left and so much to do! I spent two full days writing papers, and cranked them out in A+ form. I started working out like a mad woman – jogging through Kensington Gardens every day after class. One day I came home to find a care package from my boyfriend Tom, with gifts, letters and pictures – (this conveniently made me more excited than ever to see him). I said goodbye’s to my professors, popping sparkling champaign with my English professor and getting drunk in the last class; and had a “Secret Santa” party amongst our flat mates. We Americans wanted to leave London in style, so on one of our last nights we rented a pimped out party bus which took us all around London for over three hours – stopping at our favorite spots for pictures and toasts to our time spent together. Next came the dreaded Finals week which every college student must experience, even when 3,000 miles away from campus. Two massive Globalization essays and four exams later (all in 3 days), I was done! When I left my last exam, walking to the tube in the rain, massaging my aching wrist from all the writing, I felt exuberant knowing I was halfway done with my final year of College. I spent that night packing, squeezing in some last-chance bonding time with what were now close friends, and holding in my growing anticipation of returning to the land of the free. Our group said final goodbyes with a drunken private party at our favorite Notting Hill bar, ‘Tex Mex’. One by one my fellow travelers made their way home. I was the last to leave. My last day in London_ the bustling, adventurous, extraordinary city I called home the past four months, was Friday, December 19th, 2008. After buying souvenirs and saying my final and tearful goodbye to my friend Cat, I dressed my best and hauled my luggage to Heathrow Airport. My emotions were completely scattered, though I was mostly excited… I had barely slept the night before. It seemed like just the other day I was arriving at that very spot, completely unaware of what was to follow. Looking back, there isn’t a thing I would change. I can say with confidence that I learned more in those four months than I ever had. I was thrown into unfamiliar situations and tackled them solo, made genuine friendships with people very different from myself, experienced eclectic cultures and destinations completely new, and fell deeply in love with travel. It is a chapter in my life I will never forget. My flight home was long and exciting. As I felt the wheels of the plane touch down on American soil in Chicago, my heart was racing. After surviving baggage claim, I finally saw my Tom, greeting me with a dozen red roses. We shared a kiss that said it all, and as he picked up my suitcase and we walked out the door hand in hand, I felt overwhelming comfort in being taken care of again.
I knew I was home… The week after my friends left I found myself refreshed, my homesickness cured, and my excitement for the weekend to come escalating rapidly. But first I had a fun week in London ahead of me. Monday brought December with it, and a Christmas decorating party at the flat to celebrate. Tuesday my Literature professor brought our class to the impressive Imperial War Museum where we threw ourselves into the history, climbed atop gigantic war missiles, and wondered life-size submarine replicas. Wednesday brought an afternoon tea party at the house, then an adventure for me downtown… A few weeks prior, my Theatre class was privileged with a field trip to the famous British theatre where we toured the opera houses, got to stand center stage, and play with the actual props, set designs, and costumes backstage. We even got to peek in on an actual ballet rehearsal for the professionals who were doing a show later that night. Watching the ballerinas’ elegant poise and effortless grace, I was inspired to buy a ticket to my very first ballet. That I did… the date approached fast and Wednesday night I headed downtown solo for my first ballet experience. I marveled at the gorgeous choreography and natural beauty of the dancers onstage. They wore elaborate costumes and danced to a live orchestra for the three hour show which enveloped me start to finish. The ballet was called ‘Ondine’, a unique portrayal of a fantasy underwater world complete with a love triangle, spell, and classic good versus evil. It was quite the treat! That night I came home to pack, forcing bulky ski gear into my small carryon, and preparing to bundle up for a snowy weekend in Switzerland… I boarded a flight, (with fellow self-proclaimed black run skiiers Kathryn, Pearson, and Xanthy), and off we flew into the mountains. Our trip was not finished when we sleepily arrived in Zurich, as we had three more trains to conquer, one being a pricey 3 ½ hour ride deep into the mountains to our ultimate destination of Zermatt. The pitch black night engulfed the scenery, so we had no conception of where we were or how deep into the Swiss Alps we had traveled. Our tired eyes flew open when we ecstatically stepped onto the train platform to witness gigantic snow flurries dancing around us! We had arrived in the winter wonderland! Our arrival was late at night, leaving us to a desolate town blanketed in about two feet of snow. After traversing the ghost town for over an hour in hopes of spotting our hidden hotel, (and allowing chivalrous Pearson to haul our bags through the snow), we finally found the place camouflaged within a hilly road. The four of us shared a tiny room (Zermatt can be pricey otherwise), so we bundled up and set our alarm clocks for early the next morning. We quickly fell into a slumber amidst this snowy place, and visions of sugar-plums danced in our heads… The next day we awoke to a perfect day in Zermatt. The sun beamed from the cloudless blue sky, shimmering along the fresh powder that lay on the ground from the night before. The group and I explored the tiny town on foot – making our way up to a ski rental shop where we promptly threw down our credit cards for a chance to fly down the slopes. The tiny ski town is home to local families who run the adorable shops and restaurants, (which were dressed in Christmas décor this month), and whose children literally ski and snowboard to school and home. The ski bunnies were everywhere – and I was overly impressed with the tiny tots who were no doubt better at skiing then walking. The entire population of Zermatt is merely 5,700 – and it is a completely car-free town, which makes it even more magical. The only vehicles allowed are for public transit, and they are almost all battery-driven and completely silent. I felt like I was in a different world – perhaps the North Pole. Maybe Kris Kringle was around the corner… On our trek down to the local bus which shuttled us to the chair lifts, I kept stopping to take in the views, and my jaw kept hitting the floor. Zermatt is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Simple as that. After buying ski passes and making our way up the everlasting chair lifts (it took over 45 minutes of chair lifts just to get to the top of these natural giants!), we got our legs used to the art of skiing. (“We” excluding Xanthy, who promptly named the mountains too difficult to ski, and quit after her tumultuous descent). And then there were three… Kathryn, Pearson, and I could not be happier with the ski conditions. We were here a bit early in the season, leaving minimal tourists – and the mountains virtually to ourselves. The ski runs in Zermatt are atop four groups of mountains, the most well-known being the Matterhorn (recognize the name from Disney World?). The skiing is world-class; you can even ski your way over the border into Italy! Skiing the never-ending trails of fresh powder without seeing a single other person was truly the highlight of the trip. Not only are the ski runs nonstop, but the views are unrivaled. (I have skied Colorado and Utah which are amazing of course, but Switzerland takes the cake!) We spent the entire day skiing every run we could find, facing a constant battle of ski versus stop-and-stare. At one point, we somewhat-novice skiers ducked under a fence to go off-roading in about 4 feet of untouched snow! We could see only the tops of trees buried in the powder to help guide us along – and took a countless amount of hilarious spills on the way down. We were happy to do it, though, because our reward was a secret trail amongst the tree line which circled the entire mountain, just a few feet away from the edge. The view of Zermatt nestled between the commanding mountains was priceless. We skied until our legs couldn’t take it anymore, and our cameras’ memory cards were out of space. The gang reunited to shower up, dress in matching rugby jerseys we bought in Ireland, and eat a delicious meal at a local restaurant complete with traditional Swiss fondue. We toasted German beers to our amazing feet… we had skied the world-renowned Matterhorn. The next day my friends left, but there was no way I was making this trip so short! I opted to stay alone for the next two days, getting everything I could out of this winter wonderland. So I woke up to some free breakfast at the hotel, munching on Swiss cheese (how fitting) and made my way back to the base of the Matterhorn. This time, I challenged myself to ride every chair lift to the very top, until I couldn’t go any further. Today’s weather was quite the opposite of my sunny experience yesterday. As the chairlifts increased in altitude, the temperature dropped. A whiteout blizzard had engulfed the mountains and I could barely see ten feet in front of me… now THIS was a challenge! I fought the elements and strapped on my tinted goggles for the rough ride ahead. Skiing down the steep mountains, flurries hitting my goggles, wind whipping my face, I fought to stay in sync with my skis. I conquered run after run, taking many breaks along the way as my legs were burning. This was some of the toughest skiing I had ever done – I was alone without many people around, hidden in amidst the white noise – trapped within mountains I couldn’t even see. An adventure it was! When I finally made it down after a few hours, I was proud of my accomplishment, and weak in the knees. I sipped espresso at a tiny shop, and rested before returning my loyal skis on the other side of town. My night was spent getting into the Christmas spirit. I followed a golden string of lights to the sound of live music and ate a delicious pasta dinner at a bar, making friends with the Swiss bartender. My last day, I leisurely strolled the town on foot, enjoying the sunshine and views. I walked through a small gravesite for locals with some of the most elaborate gravestones I have seen, built a miniature snowman, and took photos of the gorgeous Matterhorn gleaming in the sun. I hopped on the free bus that took me around town, watching locals and tourists get on and off with their skis. Though I wished I could have sped down the mountains just a few more times, it wasn’t in my budget and I had an afternoon train to catch. Little did I know before boarding the train, my adventure had not come to an end. I felt like I was aboard the Hogwarts Express as our cozy red train wound back and forth through the snowy peaks. I stared out the window in awe the entire three hours… the views were indescribable! I marveled at the engineering of the speedy train that transported travelers to such a faraway place. The steel vessel passed creeks and waterfalls, greenery and snow; it took quick turns alongside the steep cliffs, and conquered the endless range of mountains. It took me one delayed flight and twelve total hours to get back to London. It did not matter though; the trip proved to be one of the best experiences of my life. For the pictures from this trip, visit the Photos Page or Click Here.
With just 33 days left on European soil, I still had a lot ahead of me. I had reconfirmed my prediction that city-living is definitely for me. Public transport is second nature, walking is the best way to get around, and food is easily accessible and, for me, on the go. My life has been delightfully hectic – packing and unpacking between weekend trips, frantically throwing coins into the laundry machines down the street, taking sunset jogs through Kensington Gardens, while squeezing in time for studies Monday through Wednesday. I seem to have mastered the London rudeness and race to anywhere walking down the streets, where everyone is a participant whether willing or not. The past week I had enjoyed a trip to the Sherlock Holmes museum and a day in Regent Park with my English professor – and a delicious meal of duck at an Asian restaurant downtown. Before I knew it Friday morning had arrived and I was awoken by my alarm clock. I headed to Paddington Station to greet my first visitor in three months… Colleen, Erin, and I have been glued at the hip since we were awkward pre-teens with matching school uniforms, so it is no wonder that four months proved too long a stint to stay away. Their ten-day visit to London would commence just in time for Thanksgiving, and pull me out of the homesickness funk I was trying to avoid. Colleen arrived first sans-cell phone, and ignored instructions to meet me at the gate to the tube. After about twenty grueling minutes searching for the lost Irish girl, I spotted her in a train station café sipping espresso with an old English man. I guess she just couldn’t wait to enjoy some English culture… Erin met us a few hours later at my blue door in Notting Hill, and the group was successfully reunited across the big pond they call the Atlantic. For the next ten days I was determined to play the ultimate tour guide, taking my companions to favorite spots I had discovered in London. We started out day one with Big Ben, the London Eye, and some street performers before lazily entering a pub where we would spend the rest of the evening imbibing on some scrumptious ginger cocktails. Shocker. We continued this pattern of sightseeing –drinking – sleeping, (rinse and repeat), for the next week. But not to disregard the food. Oh the food! (My diet and exercise regime would have to resume post-visit). Erin, Colleen, and I enjoyed just about every corner of London I could muster the energy to explore. We shopped in SoHo, Oxford Street and the opulent Mayfair area, and dazzled ourselves in Harrod’s. While I was at class, they would explore what I had seen and got history lessons at the Tower of London. We consumed several days’ worth of calories in delicious restaurants as compensation for busy days on our feet. We caught the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, strolled the beautiful Hyde Park, Green Park, and Kensington Gardens, took photos at Trafalgar Square and pretended to be interested in art at the National Gallery. We crossed Millenium Bridge to explore the Tate Modern museum at night, tried to get into Hogwarts at Platform 9 and 3/4, and caught live shows in Piccadilly Circus, (they saw ‘Dirty Dancing’ while I went to ‘Oedipus’ for class). We haggled for trinkets in Portobello Market, and even enjoyed a movie getting us ready for Christmas time back home. Our nights out were some of my favorites spent in London; I think we managed to patronize 50% of the pubs in London. Thanksgiving Day was particularly memorable to me. We dressed our best and attended mass at the famous St. Paul’s Cathedral, which was holding a special ceremony for American visitors such as ourselves. That night we sought out a traditional turkey dinner, which proved unexpectedly difficult to do. We ended up at a cheesy, overcrowded joint (fairly named ‘Big Easy’)which took two train rides and a long hike in the cold to find. Once we were finally seated, however, the food proved sufficient and reminiscent of that which our families would enjoy back home six hours later. We toasted red wine to our warm holiday spent with the family we choose ourselves… friends. For pictures of our London trip as a threesome, check out Erin's albums by clicking the links below: ALBUM 1 ALBUM 2 ALBUM 3 ALBUM 4 Cheers! Upon arriving in Berlin from our 3-hour train from Prague, I was greeted with chaos – hundreds of singing rugby fans, the largest train station I have ever seen, and no map. After quite the detour and getting lost until dark, Xanthy and I finally checked in to our modern hostel in Berlin. We met up with our fellow travelers who did not have any trouble finding their accommodation…the battle of the sexes continues: boys – 2, girls – 2. We all wandered the dark city for a few hours, spotting the Berlin TV Tower, rising above the city. We ate a chic dinner at a Japanese restaurant and called it a night. The next morning we awoke to a sunny day and a city of possibilities. I convinced Xanthy, John, and Brock to join me on a free walking tour of Berlin which would occupy us most of the day. This was one of my favorite tours yet. The history of Berlin is not only incredibly fascinating, but is also quite young – making it even more appealing. Of course the deep history of the Nazis in World War II sparked everyone’s interest first. We began at Brandenburg Gate – a staple of Berlin, and walked block after block of the German territory. Some notable things we saw were the intersection Potsdamer Platz, the main square, and a building still standing which was once a Nazi headquarters. It was built to invoke fear and, even though it is now a normal government building, it was chilling to picture what went on there just decades ago. We also explored the hauntingly beautiful Holocaust War Memorial – standing in the middle of the city for all to see. The Memorial is made up of large concrete blocks of many sizes, representing those that lost their lives in WWII. The hundreds of blocks change in height, which makes an interesting geometrical design when standing far away, and a never-ending maze when walking through it. The Memorial truly put into perspective the amount of damage done during this uncivilized time in history. Quite opposite to the grand War Memorial, our tour ventured to Adolf Hitler’s bunker. The underground space is where Hitler hid and selfishly killed himself upon learning that invaders were on the way. Germany has gone through great lengths to be sure the war is remembered, but not in a way that sensationalizes Hitler or the Nazis. There is little evidence that the Nazis existed in Berlin, a perfect example being that there is not even a sign above Hitler’s bunker – rather it is an empty parking lot at which no one would look twice. The recent history of Berlin is what truly struck me, especially being there and seeing it before my eyes. It was surreal to look at what is left standing of the dilapidated Berlin Wall and picture that it once confidently divided East and West Berlin for almost three decades. After WWII, the wall was erected (in 1961) by the East Germans to remain anti-Fascist, implying the West had not been completely “de-Nazified”. Guards armed with guns prevented unauthorized crossing over the entire span of the wall, which was also equipped with booby traps to kill potential crossers. The west side of the wall became a piece of art, with colorful graffiti covering every inch. Then, on November 9th, 1989, the East German government somewhat accidentally and spontaneously announced that all citizens could visit the West side, effective immediately. Upon hearing this mix-up, the German citizens flocked to the wall at once, armed with sledgehammers, bats, and anything they could get their hands on to defeat the oppressive structure. The masses outnumbered the guards who reluctantly retreated, giving freedom back to the people. Over the next few months, almost every inch of the wall was torn down. Upon completion of our walking tour which lasted the entire day, we met up with Tory and Julia who had spent the day in art museums. We swapped stories and feasted on traditional German cuisine and beers at a cozy local restaurant. Without much time left, we shopped for souvenirs, (I scored a piece of the colorful Berlin Wall), packed, and headed back to London on the long journey home. Our train – bus – flight – tube combination home turned out to be a blast… us girls did not stop chatting and laughing while the boys listened to their IPods and moped. Was it a true battle of the sexes? Probably not. But after such an amazing weekend I felt like I had won. (For the photogallery of this album, you can click here.)
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AuthorTorrey-Paige Szofer Archives
March 2016
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