Current mood:	invincible.
Entry tags:	across the atlantic, cityhop, picspam

YOUTH NATION / MOSH IT UP
THE SHORT VERSION: London was wretched except for calculette, who was a shining beacon of love amidst a sea of gray skies. Dublin was adorable; Paris even better. No limbs were lost, and no hearts broken. Success.

FLICKR SETS: LONDON | DUBLIN | PARIS | EUROTRIP

In general, studying abroad has been an incredibly growing and learning experience, and I like to think that this trip was the culmination of the battle against culture shock and evasion by subjection. Seven (7) of us visited four (4) European capital cities in eight (8) days via five (5) different flights and one (1) train ride. I don't think any of us fully recognized the scale of our trip; none of us had ever traveled abroad by ourselves before, and in many ways this was the first time any of us planned and organized an event of this epic proportions. I mean, we researched and booked our flights months beforehand and browsed various hostels websites and chose accordingly, but vacationing turned out to be so much more than that. We were so relieved and confident that we'd be in a country that spoke English again that we over-estimated the common language factor for London and Dublin. (Paris, surprisingly, won the prize for easiest navigation.) We knew vaguely that we'd have to take trains from airports to city centrals and that we'd have to purchase metro tickets and that tours ran at different times on certain days and a million other pieces of fragmented information that appeared so easy and tame during the planning stage and ended up becoming painstakingly difficult and confusing in execution.

We had already done quite a bit of traveling to other major cities before this (Prague, Berlin, Munich, etc) but we failed to take into account that those trips had all been program-sponsored and we'd always had someone along that took responsibility and knew what s/he was doing. On this trip, we had no one to rely on but ourselves, and similarly, when something went wrong we had no one to blame but ourselves, too. It also didn't help that Matt and I inadvertently isolated ourselves for London, which threw off our 7-person group dynamic until Paris, and so many of Matt's and my transportation problems were faced solely by the two of us, which is significantly more intimidating than facing problems as a group of 5 or 7.

Let me preface this post further by first ranting about the British pound for a minute. Uh, basically, IT SUCKS. HOW HAS THE POUND BECOME SO STRONG. The exchange rate at the airport was 1 pound to 1.45 euro to 2.20 USD, WHAT THE FUCK. Seriously, London nearly starved me. The city has four major airports: Heathrow, Stanstad, Luton, and Gatwick. Of these four, Heathrow is the only one within city limits and accessible by the underground. GUESS WHICH AIRPORTS WE FLEW INTO (uh hint: Heathrow was basically the only airport we didn't use). Gatwick to our hostel was pretty painless despite the initial stress and unpleasantness of the information tellers. I attempted to ask a woman behind the counter how much underground tickets normally cost, and she gave me a nasty look and told me they sold train tickets, not underground, so how should she know. "WHAT, YOU NEVER USE THE SUBWAY IN LONDON?" I wanted to demand. This would become a common occurrence.

We had hoped to catch a showing of Across the Universe in London since we missed the released in America and when the movie comes out in Germany it'll be. . . in German. . . . but WE MISSED IT BY A DAY. :(( Apparently the day before was the last showing of the Across the Universe for the entirety of London. Our luck. We nearly didn't make it to the movie theater, because for some bizarre reason, there are like four different theaters in Leicaster Square and THEY ARE ALL NAMED THE ODEON, WTF. Also, there was a visiting Bollywood star premiere or something, because there was paparazzi and cameras flashing everywhere! We attempted to climb up a fence for a look, but the view was quite disappointing; we didn't recognize anyone. :T












On Saturday Matt and I met calculette and her boyfriend in the morning! *_* They took us around all day, first to Portobello Market in Notting Hill where I bought a bright yellow handbag and after that to Covent Garden and the giant 5-story Topshop (WHAT AN INSANE EXPERIENCE, it was worse than Macy's during Christmas) and around Carnaby Street. So uh basically she took me shopping all day; I'm not complaining. Then she took Matt and I home with her to her enviable London flat and her mother cooked incredible Chinese food and fed us Italian torta dessert. Trin's mother is indescribable; she's hilarious and open and perceptive, and she's going on an Arctic expedition soon laskfjd how amazing is that. SO MUCH OF TRIN IS EXPLAINED AFTER HAVING MET HER MOTHER. :o






And then Trin took us clubbing. >:)) She really was such a champ; she told me she despises house / electrodance / techno clubs and that's what I'd wanted to find in London, so she researched clubs for me and picked a funk / indie / electro danceparty club called Buttoned Down Disco and printed off directions for us. Not going to lie, the cover charge was a bit steep and we arrived at the venue at around 11 PM which was entirely too early, because nobody started really dancing until midnight. The playlist was pretty awkward, too, for the first half -- a lot of drippy indie and indistinct basslines but the music picked up considerably in the second half of the night, starting with Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out" and then Daft Punk's "Digital Love". The people there were a bit on the older side? Occasionally made for awkward moments, but you make it work, I guess; I'm never one to turn down a dance party. It was a pretty tame evening; I didn't pre-game and no one particularly interested me enough to cause a surge in reckless courage, or perhaps I was too blinded by Trin's hottness to notice anyone else. :)) It was fun though, and pretty stress relieving, so thanks for taking me out, baby♥.








But of course, the night didn't end at the club; no, that would be too normal and fortunate. My life must be a fucking comedic tragedy. Matt and I didn't want to pay for coatcheck and we figured we could brave the few minutes waiting for the bus after the club, so we didn't wear coats out; I was nothing but a halter, skirt, and stockings, and Matt was in a short-sleeved polo and jeans. Well. London public transportation is wretched like most cities and the underground shuts down at midnight; night buses run from 1 to 5 AM. Trin wrote down the buses we had to take; one bus should've taken us to Queen St, then another one to the front of our hostel. Uh. TO START, the first bus we had to take passed by us without stopping so Matt and I had to wait an additional 30 minutes (for a total of 50 minutes) at the initial stop for the next bus to come. We sat on the curb and attempted to conserve body energy by curling into a deformed fetal position while inching away from a homeless man that kept giving us the stinkeye for cramping his street corner; sorry, dude.

The first bus finally came! We were overjoyed! We collapsed into two seats and relished in the central heating. AND THEN WE REALIZED THE BUS WASN'T STOPPING AT NORMAL BUS STOPS. Apparently the night buses only pull over when the driver sees people waiting at the stop; otherwise, it's up to the faithful riders to push the "Stop" button. This system is understandably faulty, of course, when you have absolutely no idea where you are in London. Matt and I panicked, I tapped on the driver's window and asked him where the Queen St stop was, and the driver gave me a blank look and told me he had no idea. WHAT? WHAT?? DON'T YOU DRIVE THIS BUS ROUTE ASLKJDF I am on the verge of panicking further when Matt suddenly shrieked, "LOOK IT'S QUEEN VICTORIA STREET, THIS IS OUR STOP, RIGHT," and before I knew it we both had gotten off the bus and the bus sped merrily away.

lolol problem: it was 2 AM in the morning; the temperature was a freezing 4 degrees C; Matt and I didn't even know which side of the river we were on. We walked a block to an all-night convenience store and asked the owner for directions; he was useless and instead offered to let us peruse a London map. We accepted his offer. Luckily, we managed to locate our hostel on the map. We eagerly turned to the owner again and asked where the convenience store is located. The owner stared at us blankly. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY DOES NO ONE IN LONDON KNOW WHERE THEY ARE.

Matt and I discussed the possibility of hailing a cab back, but we thought about 10 pounds and how that's 20 USD and a possible pair of discounted jeans, and we decided: no. We're young; we're supposed to be sturdy. We saw a bridge! We saw the Parliament Building in the distance! We knew for sure we're on the wrong side of the river! And then in an act of desperation rooted from the fear that I could no longer feel my fingers or face from the cold, I STARTED RUNNING! I RUN! I RUN FULL SPEED ACROSS THE BRIDGE! I WHIPPED OUT MY CAMERA AND STARTED TAKING PICTURES! I TURNED BACK AND SCREAMED AT MATT TO JOIN ME! WE BOTH STARTED RUNNING! WE RUN NONSTOP ACROSS THE THAMES! WE FOUND A BUS STOP MAP! WE STUDIED IT. WE REALIZED WE ARE EAST OF OUR HOSTEL. WE RUN SOME MORE! WE KEPT CHECKING BUS MAPS AS WE PASSED BY STOPS! WE RUN AN HOUR BACK TO OUR HOSTEL!

By the way, to reiterate, I was still in a halter top and stockings. Good times.




I wish I could say that the 3 AM run across the Thames was our token crazy London story, but alas, it was really just the tip of the iceberg. Because, you see, we stayed in London for 5 nights. And STARTING FROM THAT FIRST NIGHT AT THE CLUB, Matt and I spent every single night in London wandering the streets lost on foot without a map!! How exciting!! Let me explain.

Sunday was our designated touristing day: Matt and I went on a morning walking tour around Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, the Parliament Building, Trafalgar Square, etc. The sky was overcast and miserable, and the changing of the guards was canceled due to a sprinkling of rain. Seriously, British people are such wimps about weather; I looked out my window the first day to gauge temperature and decide whether to wear my peacoat or my winter coat, and I saw everyone bundled up in ski jackets and scarves and gloves so I loaded up on layers, and it was a balmy 11 degrees C out. Dresden has spoiled me; it's so freezing over here all the time that anything above 10 degrees has become tropical for me. We did, however, manage to stop by the Diwali festival in Trafalger Square and picked up some Indian food for lunch, yummy. :))
















I ALSO FOUND THE UNIQLO STORE IN LONDON, and it was pretty magical; I'm planning on making a trip down to NYC next Spring (under the guise of visiting friends at Columbia) expressly to buy two pairs of Uniqlo jeans, omggg. The sizing (at least in the UK store) was really odd, though? The smallest size they offer for jeans is 6, which translates into a 26" waist / 30-33" hip, which. . . to be completely honest isn't that small. I know I'm on the lower end of sizing for most stores, but when I tried on the size 6 jeans, they were actually a little big on me around the waist, even though the calves/thighs fit pretty well. My waist is small but not so small that I ever have trouble buying pants, okay. So puzzling. Their number system seems so arbitrary; why start at 6? :o






Okay, so it goes: we were in London from Friday to Wednesday morning, and Matt and I bought plane tickets for a day trip to Dublin for Monday. Our other five friends bought Dublin tickets two weeks after we did and for the same times from the same airway. . . and yet they ended up being different flights?? So weird, but basically Matt and I had to make our way by ourselves to Luton airport at 4 AM to catch our 6 AM flight. We were told that trains ran from Charing Cross Station to Luton every hour, but we'd have to take the bus from our hostel to the train station. We knew of the horrors of the night bus system by then, so we planned our route very, very carefully, pouring over maps and bus schedules and calculating how many streets we'd pass, where to make our transfers, where to buy tickets, etc. We were pumped! We were going to conquer London transportation, no matter what! We got up at 2 AM Tuesday morning, were out the hostel door by 2:30 AM, caught our first bus at 2:52, successfully rode on it until 3:10, where we walked to our transfer point and waited for the second bus at 3:30 AM to hopefully take us straight to Charing Cross, where we'd take a 4 AM train and hopefully get to Luton by 5 AM.

WE ACHIEVED ALL OF THE ABOVE CORRECTLY UNTIL WE EXCITEDLY RUSHED TO CHARING CROSS STATION'S FRONT DOOR. . . . and realized it was locked, lolol. Apparently 10,000 bolts of electricity had flown through Charing Cross Station earlier that night by accident and all of the trains were down until 5 AM! A huge construction crew were right outside the station digging up the street concrete, salfdkj. Matt and I panicked and were then approached by this sketchy taxi driver who kept attempting to show us his "certification badge" and tried to charge us 80 pounds (~170 USD) for a ride to Luton. I was pretty resilient; our plane tickets roundtrip had only cost 70 USD, there was no way I was going to pay double that amount just to get one-way to the airport. We were pretty crushed and almost decided to just eat the plane ticket costs and screw Dublin, but as we were walking back to the bus station, the taxi driver chased after us and told us he had managed to corner another girl who needed to get to Luton airport, and the three of us ended up splitting a cab for 20 pounds each, which was still over-priced, but Matt and I were so tired and defeated by then (we'd already been up for over two hours and it was only 4 AM, okay) that we didn't care.

(Note: Ryanair is so sketch; they hand-write your hand on the tickets, and there are no assigned seats. . . . it's sort of first-come, first-serve aslkfjd no wonder our plane tickets were so cheap.)

To avoid confusion I'll do the Dublin write-up after finishing up London; suffice to say, Dublin was gorgeous and manageable and a welcome break from the British pound (thank god for euros T_T). Our flight back was delayed by half a hour, though, so we didn't end up getting into Luton again until 11:30 PM but we managed to catch a bus back to central London at midnight. We got into Victoria Station at around 1 AM. . . . and Matt and I had no idea how to further get back to our hostel. We huddled around a bus stop map and semi-sketched out our possible route; OF COURSE, we had to take two different night buses. Seriously, I don't think I can rant enough about the London bus system. Never have I ever used a public transportation system that made less sense. FIRSTLY, unless you have a metro day pass, you have to buy a bus ticket for 2 pound (= 4 USD!!! FOR A BUS TICKET) for every bus that you take, i.e. even if you only ride the first bus for one stop and then transfer onto another bus, you must buy two separate tickets. SECONDLY, night bus stops aren't clearly labeled and it's pretty much a guess-and-check of where to wait for the correct bus. :T THIRDLY, you'd think that the same buses that simply run in opposite directions should have bus stops facing each other across the street, right? WRONG. Matt and I always managed to find the correct bus stop for the bus we wanted. . . going the opposite direction asfldkj and so we'd cross the street. . . . and there would be no bus stop in sight SERIOUSLY WHY, THIS MAKES ME SO ANGRY.

We couldn't even manage to find our first bus stop; we found it going the opposite direction, so we just crossed the street and started walking in the direction that we wanted, hoping we'd eventually hit upon our desired stop. Yeah, that never happened. Armed only with the knowledge that we had to get to Westminster Bridge and across the river, we weaved through the deserted streets of downtown London and attempted to listen for the sounds of the Thames as our guide. T_T By a miraculous stroke of luck (and, okay, following Big Ben through the treetops) we found the river, and further investigations found our second bus stop, where we accosted a passing man for change (asfdlkj this was actually a really frightening experience, but all Matt and I had on us was a 5 pound note and bus tickets require exact change). We got into our hostel at 2:30 AM, EXACTLY 24 HOURS AFTER WE LEFT THE DAY BEFORE. It was possibly the most exhausting and stressful day of my life (. . . . since Oktoberfest).






Seriously, by the fourth day in London we were all so ready to leave. We were miserable and tired and stressed and low on funds, and the only thing I was looking forward to was getting to the airport on Wednesday morning to depart for Paris. Well, okay, somewhere in between we visited the National Gallery and I saw da Vinci's Virgin on the Rocks and Monet's Water-Lily Pond and I managed to take hundreds of pictures despite the nasty overcast skies, but London wasn't a very pleasant experience except for the first day with calculette. I don't have anything personal against it, because London is honestly a rather lovely city; I think I would've enjoyed it a lot more if perhaps I was studying abroad there and had my own place or if I were visiting with my parents or someone who knew what they were doing or even if I hadn't had three flighting exiting and entering London at either 6 AM or 11 PM when the underground and trains stopped running, but navigating the city by ourselves was horrible.

The night before we left, I warned our hostel roommate (that we'd previously never talked to before) that all 7 of us would be getting up at 2 AM to leave for the airport and it snowballed into an hour long rant on Europe, laughing. He was a Australian from Sydney on a semester long Eurotrip with his two best mates, and we both bitched about London transportation and the ridiculous pricing and currency exchange, and then we started trading Europe stories and IT TURNED OUT. . . THAT WE HAD BOTH SUFFERED TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES IN ALL THE SAME CITIES lolol. I told him how I'd gotten my hand stuck in a Berlin subway door; he spent his time in Berlin sleeping in an abandoned swimming pool because all the hostels had been booked. I nearly froze to death when napping in the Munich train station after Oktoberfest; he drank so much beer within 24 hours that he hasn't been able to get drunk since! (We also realized that the two of us were probably at Oktoberfest during the same weekend too, one of those "the world is so small!" moments.) Both of us adored Prague and the sketchtastic 5-story disco club. "PRAGUE IS THE ONLY CITY WITHOUT A TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE," I told him crossly. "EUROTRIP SHOULD BE SUED FOR FALSE ADVERTISING," he agreed. aslkfjd he ended up being really, really cool; I'm a little disheartened that we never attempted conversation until the last night in London. :I We were so busy talking I didn't even catch his name, asflkdj. Oh those crazy Aussie accents.

I was so nervous about getting to the airport on time Wednesday morning, because we absolutely couldn't miss our flight to Paris and it was a 6 AM flight again. I was tempted to leave for Victoria station at 11 PM when the subways were still open and sleeping at the train station until 3 AM (after Oktoberfest, suddenly I am completely not averse to the idea of sleeping overnight in airports, train stations, public transportations systems -- ANYTHING TO SAVE MONEY) but Matt and I caved and arranged a cab to take us from our hostel to Victoria at 2:45 AM.

So basically. . . Matt and I spent every single night in London except the first wandering lost along the streets by foot between 2 and 3 AM.

FRIDAY NIGHT: in bed at respectable hour of midnight!
SATURDAY NIGHT: 2 AM jog across the Thames!
SUNDAY NIGHT: trek across London to Charing Cross Station at 3 AM!
MONDAY NIGHT: walk across central London from Victoria Station at 2 AM!
TUESDAY NIGHT: final departure for airport from Victoria at 3 AM!

Thanks, London. The next time you're calling, I'm letting it roll to voicemail. >:[





In sharp contrast to the monstrosity that was London, Dublin was gorgeous! The 7 of us met up at the exit gate and we got from the airport into the city with relatively no trouble, despite the frigid 5 degrees C weather. We had planned on signing up for a bus tour, but we didn't realize until after we arrived that October 29th was the day of the annual Dublin Marathon which meant. . . . none of the buses were running that day, aslfkjd. Great, we managed to choose the one day in the year that Dublin pretty much shuts down, but it all worked out for the best because the sky was a clear beautiful blue and the city is so tiny that we walked everywhere we wanted to go! And the Guiness factory was open, which was really all we cared about. /:)) We sipped on a beautiful pint of fresh Guiness vom fuss in the skylight bar on top of the factory, overlooking a panoramic view of Dublin; one of my favorite moments on our trip. ♥






























Matt got a Celtic symbol tattoo that he'd been craving for a year at a parlor in the afternoon; I documented with pictures. We spent a lot of time looking at cathedrals and castles and walking along the River Liffey; Dublin really is such a quaint and picturesque city. Initially we had wanted to spend our break between London and Dublin and we were afraid that we couldn't fill 4 days of touristing activity in Dublin; in retrospect, we should've spent one less day in London and two days in Dublin.













Paris. What to say about Paris. Anything I wax would be inadequate and redundant, so I will settle with confessing that I didn't understand the infatuation until I experienced my first glimpse after exiting the subway stop and I paused underneath the high townhouses looming above the cobbled streets and bursting with flowers on every windowsill. The city is stunning. It's old and often dirty and covered in graffiti, but Paris exceeded expectations as much as London disappointed them. Well, caveat: the Eiffel Tower was quite a let-down, as I never realized how. . . metal it is. I saw it on multiple days but always under an overcast sky, so the color was unfortunately less than impressive. Otherwise, the food was incredible (CREPES AND WAFFLES AND CROISSANTS AND PANINIS EVERY MORNING), and there were vintage markets on every street corner; my kind of city. We took a bike tour during the day and a boat tour at night; we walked along the River Seine and saw the inside of the Notre Dame and climbed up the Arc de Triomphe and walked down the Champs-Élysées. We sat on the steps of the Basilique du Sacré-Coeur in the dark and watched the city light up before us. We spent an evening at the Musée du Louvre. We walked everywhere. We risked the Red Light District after sundown and took pictures in front of the Moulin Rouge. I bought chiffon scarves and wore them tied in a Parisian knot around my neck; they are possibly my favorite purchase(s) thus far in Europe.














































Paris was particularly low-key in comparison to our experience in London, too, which was good for recharging and returning to tourist mode. My only regret is that I did not get to go clubbing, but the metro shuts down at midnight, and I didn't want a repeat of London, especially not in a language that I don't understand. There were a couple bars around our hostel, and I went out the last night with the boys (the other two girls called it an early night) and we found this American-style pub and ran into a couple American boys and sketchy French businessmen playing beer pong. I stayed a polite half hour and then excused myself; beer pong isn't really my scene, not even back in the States. :T

















Our flight to Berlin was uneventful; I wish I could say the same about our train ride from Berlin to Dresden, sdlfkj. We somehow managed to transfer onto the wrong train heading the opposite direction of Dresden and there was a reminiscent panicked moment when we realized we had missed the last train to Dresden and would have to either take a taxi or sleep at a train station until the next morning (MY LIFE) but then the unbelieveably helpful conductor woman took pity on us and our bulging luggage and made a round of calls and managed to procure a taxi for us to quickly bus us to the next town over where there was a train bound for Dresden. SERIOUSLY, SHE WAS SO NICE. :(( I LOVE GERMANY. :(( I haven't ridden in a car in so long, especially not through quiet countryside and watching the German farmland flash past through the tinted car window gave me the strongest nostalgia for the Midwest yet. I miss riding in cars.

SO IN CONCLUSION: no one got shot, mugged, or raped; we are all significantly poorer but our passports and security cards are still secure, and we've returned to Dresden with a million extra country stamps in our passports, which (c'mon let's be real) is all that matters. I lost 5 lbs in 9 days, and my feet have possibly permanent calluses from walking 12 hours straight every day. I have a renewed sense of appreciation for my parents, but also a newfound sense of self-confidence in my own abilities. I've learned that some things will always be shitty at 3 AM but everything will still turn out okay in the morning. I'm glad to have experienced London and Paris with an independent group of friends while still a teenager; I look forward to going back when I am no longer as young.


It was a good 9 days, and I slept better than I ever have the first night back. Oh, youth.