Greece

I had planned to be in Greece for two and a half weeks, but I left after only 4 days.  It's hard for me not to view that as some sort of failure on my part.  Like I did something wrong by cutting my time short in what is a undeniably beautiful country.

My first day exploring the beach near my hostel

Arriving in Greece was invigorating.  After arriving at the tiny airport on the island of Crete, I caught the bus into town.  We passed olive groves, open-air fish markets, signs in characters that were completely alien to me, and lots of flat roofed houses with Greek flags flying out front.  My senses were buzzing and I could not wait to begin to explore this new and fascinating country.

I met a group of wonderful travelers in the dorm and we immediately hit it off.  None of us knew anyone else, so we all went out to dinner together that evening.  It was the oddest assortment of countries covering everywhere from Pakistan to Sweden, and there was something quite poetic about the fact that not a single country was repeated in our group of nine.

Chania's harbor by day.  We ate dinner at a restaurant along the water

Dinner was wonderful.  I ordered grilled mushrooms which were slathered with olive oil and lemon. Simple but delicious.  We were served by the owner of the restaurant himself and even treated to free fruit, semolina orange cake, and alcohol after our meal.

The next day was spent exploring Chania (the main city of Crete) with my new international friends.  Chania has a wonderful Old Town and harbor and we spent some time just lounging by the bay, soaking in the sun and enjoying each other's company.

Chania's Old Town has the most wonderful, narrow streets

We asked locals for recommendations and found fresh cheese and local wine to bring back to the hostel for a backpackers feast.  A candle was fashioned out of the book binding thread I had (yes, I brought some) and some olive oil.  As the sun set behind the hotel, it was one of those moments I couldn't believe was actually my life.  It was like something out of a novel.  Sun soaked backpackers from completely opposite corners of the globe become fast friends over a delectable, locally produced meal.  Only days into my time in Greece, my trip felt luxuriously endless.  I had plenty of time to lounge around on the beach and explore many of the amazing sights Crete had to offer.

Our very, very local wine

And then I got sick.  Really sick.  So sick I could hardly move and couldn't even keep water down.

My roommates were so sweet about having a delirious, vomiting human in their midsts.  Through out the day they checked in on me periodically.  My English and Irish roommates brought me tea on multiple occasions.  My Polish roommate gave me medication in a package I could not read and advised that I take a shot of hard liquor.  My Swedish roommate cut up an apple for me and also made me tea.  Apparently tea can cure everything.

I woke up the next day with a wave of depression like nothing I'd experienced in a long time.  It knocked to my feet and for a second day I couldn't get out of bed but for a completely different reason.

The beach minutes from my hostel.  The most beautiful windflowers were blooming all over the island. 

Suddenly the smells, sights, sounds of Greece became too overwhelming for me.  I couldn't handle the pushy local restaurant owner or the frail-looking stray dogs that followed us everywhere.  The thought that I was hours away from home took the breath out of me and nearly everything made fat tears well up at the corner of my eyes.

I also woke up to the knowledge that my roommates had completely changed their travel plans and would be leaving that day.  In that moment, I realized two very important things about myself: that I don't let people in easily and I certainly don't let them go easily either.

The backpacker culture of meeting people, spending an intensive few days with them, and then jetting off to different corners of the globe doesn't sit well with me.  Yes, we're now friends on facebook, but the idea that I would have to do that over, and over, and over was too much.  Even worse was the thought I could end up at a hostel like the one I stayed at in Nuremberg where I hardly anyone would talk to me.

Even though I had yet to see the blue roofed houses of Santorini, the stunning pink sand beach hidden in a corner of Crete, or the Acropolis in Athens, I left Greece for London after only 4 days.

At the time I wasn't sad.  I was desperately homesick and all I could think about were the non stop flights from London to San Francisco flying out every day.  In hindsight, it's hard not to wish I had pushed through it, that I had stayed longer.  One thing I am struggling with my trip so far (among many things...) is not letting the regret get to me.  Already I feel like I have a list miles long of the things I missed, while the list of the things I did get to do seems much shorter.

But at the end of the day, I know I did what was best for me.  Flying to London was the right decision to take care of my emotional well being.  It's been over a week and only now am I recovering from the depression that took ahold after I got sick.

I don't want to define my time in Greece as either being all amazing-things-that-I-should-have-stayed-to-see or all horrible-I-was-miserable-and-sick-the-whole-time, because neither captures my time there.

There are spectacularly beautiful moments that I don't want to forget.  Like one night when myself and two of my roommates were going to sleep at the same time.  They shared how to say goodnight in their languages and after I turned out the light, my Polish roommate started talking about a cartoon he saw as a child with a Polish lullaby.  He pulled up a video on his phone of a claymation teddy bear wearing a nightcap and hesitantly sung the song in Polish while we drifted off to sleep.

But my time in Greece was undeniably challenging.  It was the most desperate emotional pain I've felt in years and as hard as that was to experience, I don't want to forget or wash over that either.

It is all a part of my experience.  Traveling is the most challenging, invigorating thing possibly that I've ever done.  Some days I feel on top of the world and never want it to end.  Other days I would seriously consider cutting off my own arm if it meant I could instantly be at home with my family.

I'm not sure where that leaves me for the rest of my trip.  I am equally scared by the thoughts that I might push myself to hard and go through another intense depression, or that I might keep myself too safe and miss out on some amazing experiences.  For now I am resting, fighting off another cold, and trying to experience as much of London as I can handle.

Αντίο Ελλάδα! Ελπίζω να σας δούμε ξανά κάποια μέρα.

Tschüss Deutshland!

I've been keeping a running list of the little, everyday things that I don't want to forget from my time in Germany.  Things that, over time, are likely to slip away from my memory slowly enough that I likely won't even remember they were ever there.  Here are some of my favorites that I pulled from my notes...

10 Things I Don't Want to Forget About Germany:

1. Understanding my first German swear word ("scheisse"- shit!) on the bus to Stuttgart from Berlin.  (A car cut us off and the driver had a few choice words to share.)  
2. Feeling somehow comforted to see lilacs, wisteria, buttercups and dandelions (yes, they're the same here!) during my stay.  At least some of the flowers are similar when so many things are different.  (On a side note, I'm planning a visit to the Porsche museum when I return in June.  Mom and Dad, did you guys ever doubt you had an influence on me??)
3. The fact that a slow watch could be detrimental.  In punctual Germany on time is already late.  
4. The look on Claudia's mother's face when I replied to her heavily accented "good morning" with "guten morgen!" (probably also heavily accented)
5. The first German song I heard after being in Germany for more than two weeks.  The music video was a boy band wearing lederhosen and t-shirts while dancing on a beach with bikini clad girls.  
6. The Turkish restaurants that are everywhere here, and how I was confused when everyone was talking about "kebab" which was not, as I expected, meat or veggies on a skewer, but a giant (and I mean giant) rotating cone of meat that is shaved and put into flatbread with veggies and sauces. Turns out it's actually spelt kebap and is completely different from kebabs.  
7. That, despite passing many vineyards and orchards, I could never lay my finger on what distinguishes them from California vineyards and orchards.  Something about them is unmistakable different but still reminds me of driving through Sebastopol or out to Sonoma in a bittersweet way.  
8. My friend Ramona's slight Irish accent from her time studying abroad. 
9. The fact that it rained after I left California.  Then it rained when I arrived in Frankfurt.  And it rained when I left Berlin.  And it rained again the day I left Oppenweiler.  Every other day has been warm and sunny.  In the car, I told Claudia that it's because California and Germany are sad to see me go.  
10. My favorite German word, tschüss! Pronounced like "juice" with a "t" at the beginning, it means "bye!"  So much fun to cheerily reply with the right phrase when leaving a shop. 

Meeting Claudia

On a shopping trip together the day after I arrived

I met my penpal Claudia.  In person.  I gave her a hug.  We went on a walk around her neighborhood and ate dinner sitting at the desk in her room.

This moment was in the works for years.  For months and months and months we have been dreaming of meeting in person--making plans and imagining what it would be like to be together at last.

Town Hall in Backnang, a town near Claudia's village where we went shopping

She was not my first penpal, or even the first penpal I'd met in person.  And really there was nothing remarkable about our friendship in the beginning.  I never would have guessed it from our very early letters exchanged so many years ago, but through many letters and postcards, packages and skype calls, we've grown extraordinarily close.

She's the penpal who sends me boxes and boxes of candy when she knows I am struggling, just as a reminder that "you are not alone."  She's the penpal who regularly posts inspiring quotes on my facebook wall with long messages explaining how grateful she is for our friendship, just because she was thinking about me on a Monday afternoon.  She's the penpal who's letters have grown to a record 32 pages long, discussing everything from what we ate for breakfast to out deepest thoughts and fears.

From our evening walk together around Claudia's village

Sometimes I sit back and marvel over just how unlikely, just how surreal it is that I'm writing this update from her house in her little village in Germany.

Born nearly 6,000 miles apart on different continents, our paths should have never crossed.  We grew up with different languages, different cultures, different realities.

But somehow we both decided to look for a penpal, and somehow we ended up on the same website at the same time.  Somehow I posted a message and she replied and I wrote back.  Somehow her first letter to me didn't get lost along the way, like so many letters do, and somehow the million things that could have prevented us from becoming friends didn't happen and we kept writing, and writing, and writing.

Somehow we were exactly the type of friend the other one needed at exactly that time in our lives.

A beautiful protestant church in Stuttgart, the biggest city near where Claudia lives

On the 8 1/2 hour bus ride from Berlin to Stuttgart I had plenty of time to cycle through a complete range of emotions about finally meeting Claudia in person.  I had time to go from complete exhaustion and "I can't handle this right now" to complete giddiness, practically bouncing up and down in my seat.

For months I wondered how I would react.  Would I start sobbing uncontrollably?  Would I run up to her jumping up and down?  Would I be so overwhelmed I would shut down and not respond at all?

New Castle in Stuttgart

In reality I didn't do any of those things.  In reality we exchanged a long, warm hug, a few giggles and seamlessly moved into place beside each other, as if every Wednesday afternoon I came by for a visit.  As if every Wednesday I flew halfway across the world just to have dinner and spend the evening chatting with my dear friend.

This time together hasn't been at all like I imagined.  It has been marred by health problems and difficult family situations and life obligations, but in many ways that is how it should have been.  Our friendship is not one created on unrealistic expectations, or molded through imperfect, fairytale versions presented of ourselves through carefully crafted letters.  Like my "real life" friendships, ours is one formed through messy circumstances and misunderstandings.  Life has gotten in the way of our best laid plans and we have been forced to readjust and replan.  I won't lie and say my time here has been easy, because it hasn't.  It's been emotional and challenging every single day as I see someone I love dearly struggling.

The good news is I will be back in June and hopefully some of these difficult circumstances will have past, and Claudia and I will finally get to enjoy a few carefree moments together.  But still, I'm incredibly grateful for these few days where I got to be a physical presence in Claudia's life.

To be able to sit down together and talk about what's going on without waiting weeks for a letter to arrive has been an enormous blessing.  To be able to call her without calculating the time difference and to see her face without battling grainy video delay on skype is not something I have taken for granted.

I consider myself very lucky to have a friend like Claudia in my life, and despite the difficulties, I am so grateful for the time I've gotten to spend with her these past few days.

Berlin

Brandenburg Gate

Berlin and even Germany as a whole actually were never places I never specifically set out to visit.   Somehow I ended up here almost accidentally, and I'm so glad I did.

I wouldn't necessarily have gone to Germany if it wasn't for my friend Claudia, and I wouldn't have necessarily gone to Berlin if it wasn't for my other friend Ramona.

Me and Ramona at the East Side Gallery,  where murals are painted on pieces of the Berlin Wall

Berlin is a difficult city to describe.  Many parts of it reminded me of San Francisco, especially the little vegan/vegetarian hole-in-the-wall restaurant I ate at most nights for dinner.  Naan pizza, burritos and teriyaki tofu under one roof?  So Bay Area.

But the history that penetrates Berlin is unlike anything I've ever experienced, and it adds a certain somber tone to the city.   A palpable loss that is impossible to ignore.

At the Jewish museum, in one of the "memory voids" that represents the missing Jews of Europe due to the Holocaust.

My first full day in Berlin I went on an 8 hour walking tour.  Yes, that's not a typo.  EIGHT hours of criss-crossing Berlin, but I'm so glad I did it! Although I couldn't feel my legs for the next few days, I learned so much about Berlin's history and got a good feel for how I should spend the rest of my time in the city.

The tour guide pointed out a lot of things I wouldn't have necessarily noticed, like how many buildings still had shrapnel damage, or how just by looking at the architecture you could tell that some entire city blocks were obliterated by Allied bombing in WWII.

WWII shrapnel damage 

WWII history is fairly well covered in American high schools, but I knew virtually nothing about what happened to Germany after the war.  Through out the day, we crossed from East to West Berlin multiple times, and it was hard to imagine the little line of cobblestones in the middle of the street was once a heavily fortified border.  

From West Berlin looking East

Chilling graffiti on the wall

I'm an avid reader of dystopian literature.  It's definitely my guilty pleasure genre.  I've read 1984 more times than I can count, and finished the Wool Silo Saga just a few days ago.  My hostel was located in the Eastern part of Berlin, which was once part of the GDR (German Democratic Republic, the Soviet occupied part of Germany during the cold war period.)

Former Stasi headquarters

During my stay in Berlin I was able to visit the former Stasi (East German secret police) headquarters and the GDR museum, which was wonderfully interactive.  The museum was quite a surreal experience.  Every plaque and exhibit felt like it was right out of the pages of 1984.  From the diary of a GDR resident who kept track of unobtainable items to the bugged apartment,  it reminded me of the overwhelming feeling I always get reading about Oceania and Ingsoc. 

In one part of the museum you could listen to what visitors were saying in the replica East German living room

While I still know very little about the GDR, I am definitely planning on learning more.  I've already downloaded a book on the subject and am already enjoying it--as much as one can enjoy reading about a brutal communist dictatorship I suppose.   

Memorial for the Jewish victims of WWII.  A whole city block was taken up by towering, gray columns. 

But my time in Berlin wasn't all serious all the time.  On the tour I met a wonderful group of Americans who so generously included me in their photos and explorations that afternoon, even though they were traveling together and it would have been easy for them to remain an exclusive group.  And a few days after I arrived in Berlin I was joined by my penpal Ramona and her friend (who is now also my dear friend) Lucy.  

Even though I had already experienced Ramona and her family's generosity, I was still blown away by how accommodating and encouraging her and Lucy both were.  Ramona even arrived with a gift for me (seriously?!?), a very handy German phrase book.  

With Lucy, enjoying a radler after a long day of sightseeing

I'm trying hard to look forward on my trip and not start counting all the things I wish I'd seen.  It's only been a little over a week and already there are multiple sights in Nuremberg and Berlin I'd wish I'd made time for.  It's hard to not think that I could have fit more in, that I could have rested less and pushed myself to go out and explore more.  But I know with more than 3 months to go, I definitely need to keep a slower pace than travelers who are only in Europe for a few weeks.  I can't just push through the exhaustion forever, and I'm working hard on being okay with that.

Sunday morning flea market.  I managed to find some unique souvenirs.
GDR stamps and coins as well as "inflation money" (100 million marks notes)

Ramona kept reminding me that I'll have to return to Germany one day.  After all I have to visit Bamberg's Christmas market sometime.  And who knows, there are a few portions of my trip where I don't have anything planned.  It seems silly to go back to a place I've already been when there's still so much of Europe to see, but Berlin is the first city I've really fallen in love with in a long time.  There are definitely places I've enjoyed, but there was something impossible to describe about how I felt in Berlin.

I always expected it to be wandering through in Montmartre in Paris, or relaxing on a beach in Santorini, Greece where I would find my passion for travel.  I didn't foresee that it would be entering the stuffy U-Bahn (metro) station, hurrying down the steps to catch the train in the middle of Berlin where I would pause and think to myself that even with all the stress, the anxiety, the panic...

I wouldn't rather be anywhere else but here.  

Cloud No. Seven

As soon as I knew the final dates I would be in Germany, I messaged my two German penpals and let them know when I would be visiting.  It has long been a dream of mine to meet one (or all!) of my penpals and I wanted to take the opportunity if it was possible while I was in Europe.

I've been writing to Ramona for a while, and from our very first letter we always "clicked."  While I love all my penpals, like all friendships each one has grown differently from the rest.  Ramona and I have very similar writing styles and like to write long, chatty letters (and include lots of "extras"), so we've always gotten along well--at least on paper.

When I told Ramona the dates I would be in Germany, she invited me to meet up with her and a friend in Berlin.  They were planning a trip for part of the time I would be in Germany, and it sounded like a great opportunity to see another German city that wasn't originally on my itinerary.

Before I left the US, the plan was to go from Prague to Berlin, then to Stuttgart to meet another penpal of mine.  After Prague was canceled, on my first full day in Germany, I posted photos of my day in Nuremberg.  You can imagine my surprise when Ramona commented that she would be there on Friday.

As it turns out, Ramona lives only about 20 minutes from Nuremberg, and since she was on her semester break she offered to not only spend the day showing me Bamberg (where she attends university), but also to pick me up in Nuremberg, let me stay at her parent's house for the night, and escort me to the bus to Berlin the next day.  She helped find me an inexpensive bus ticket direct to Berlin and absolutely went out of her way to make sure I felt welcomed and had a nice day.

Me with my wonderful penpal Ramona

I'm happy to report that not only do we make great penpals, but in person Ramona and I get along very well.  She met me at the train station in Nuremberg and after storing my luggage in a locker, we caught the train to Bamberg (did I mention Ramona borrowed a family ticket from her mother's friend so I didn't have to pay anything to get to Bamberg and back?!?)  We talked the whole 45 minute ride without an awkward pause.  I don't even remember what we talked about, but it felt great to have an actual conversation after several days of being pretty much on my own.

Bamberg's City Hall is situated in the middle of a river 

One of the many narrow, winding streets

Once in Bamberg we walked to the city center.  Bamberg is a fairly small city with less than 100,000 residents.  The center of a city is a UNECSO World Heritage Site.  Much of the town survived the two World Wars, and therefore displays some unique historical architecture.  Ramona had sent me postcards showing Bamberg (we both collect UNECSO postcards) and I knew if I had the opportunity I wanted to take a trip there.

The Dom Cathedral.  It contains the only papal grave outside of Italy or France

A courtyard where a fight scene from the Three Musketeers was filmed

Bamberg did not disappoint.  It is exactly what Americans imagine charming European town to look like.   We walked all over town, and I got a personal tour of the best sights.

After finishing our tour, we met up with one of Ramona's friends, Jenni, at a restaurant near their school.  Over a delicious lunch we talked about American stereotypes, idioms and Tchibo.  I crushed Ramona's world view when I explained Americans are ashamed to admit if they like McDonalds.  They taught me some German idioms, and I confirmed that "I understand only train station" is an actual expression in German.  We pondered why, in English, you say you're on cloud nine if you're extremely happy, whereas in German you're on cloud seven.  It was a great meal with great friends and while I was sitting there I realized this is why people travel.

This is why people spend hours on cramped flights and trains, forgoing sleep and familiarity.  This is why traveling is worth it.  All it takes is one beautiful city, one good meal, and one welcoming friend.

A former monastery

The view of Bamberg from the monastery garden

By the time we reached the train station, I was already yawning.  After two more train rides and a drive through the country we arrived at Ramona's house, in a small village of about 100 people.

Although her parents spoke very little English, they could have not been more welcoming.  Neither of them stopped smiling the whole time I was there.  Who said Germans are unfriendly?

My experience meeting Ramona will definitely remain a highlight of my trip, I'm sure.  And the good news is I get to spend a few more days sight seeing with her in Berlin!  I'm already looking forward to getting together with her again soon.

Bread and Mayonnaise

Today was another day of taking it easy and adjusting to being in Germany.  In the morning I hung out at the hostel and caught up on some emails about my placement in Morocco.

Around noon I decided to venture out and visit the Germanisches National Museum, since it is literally around the corner from my hostel.  It was a bit of a mix between fine art and every day artifacts spanning from before the middle ages to modern day.

 This ship was made entirely out of silver and even converted into a wine goblet!  It had something like 74 mini figureines acting out various scenes on the deck, including, according to the audio tour a "pair of lovers."  Couldn't find them though (yes, of course I had to look!)  

 If you've seen my room at home, you'll know it's covered in maps so it's no surprise that one of my favorite items was this globe.  It's the earliest spherical depiction of the Earth and was created around the time Columbus was sailing to the Americas.  The surface is illustrated with little pictures of landmarks, people and creatures--real and imaginary.  

Amongst the standard portraits and still life paintings, the museum had an exhibit on bookplates.  I tend to glaze over paintings, but anything featuring bookmaking/ paper art is totally up my alley.  The illustrations were so tiny, I couldn't get any good photos but they featured the most exquisite, detailed scenes.  My favorites were the ones featuring libraries.  Apparently rich people liked all of their books to show off how many other books they had, so they would commission bookplates to be made featuring idealized images of their huge libraries.  Kind of the Renaissance equivalent of blogging about your new kitchen remodel.  I believe this book belonged to Albrecht Dürer, but I can't exactly remember.  

One of the exhibits was solely dedicated to musical instruments.  There were lots of pianos, LOTS of pianos.  Or at least relatives of the piano.  There apparently was a section of the exhibit where you could hear songs recorded on some of these instruments, but I never found it.  The layout of the museum was a bit confusing.   I did love this one instrument where the keyboard emerged from a ladies' skirt.  Why wouldn't you have have a keyboard hidden in a life-sized statue of a lady? 

Also no surprise, I loved this writing desk.  Can you imagine the letters that were penned there?

In the middle of a room with all these serious statues were a pair of "character heads." Apparently the expression sculpted on this particular bust is impossible for a human to replicate.  Of course I had to try.  

This cabinet was painted in the early 1900's by an art student.  The botanical and insect paintings reminded me of something my mom would love.  Plus even found a snail! (Molly or Anne if you're reading this you'll have to show Tim!)

Lastly, there was an exhibit on toys that featured some AMAZING dollhouses.  My inner child was seriously freaking out.  The rooms were kept fairly dim, so I couldn't get any good photos, but there is this one that shows one of the dollhouses.  You can't see all the little details though, which is the best part. Why do I find such joy out of tiny pots and pans?  

After the museum I walked to a restaurant that my friend Ramona recommended to me.  I hadn't eaten a full meal since arriving, and I'd been surviving mostly on snacks, so I was pretty starving my the time I arrived.  

I'm going to say it was the lack of sleep because somehow when she told me it was a Spanish restaurant I thought I was going to be eating chips and salsa.  It wasn't until the waiter brought out a basket of bread with mayonnaise (???) that I realized she means Spanish as in Spain.  Because you know, I'm in Europe and all.  

I really shouldn't have posted about hoping plan D stuck yesterday, because I've already moved onto plan E, or is it F by now?  But I promise it's even better than what I was thinking.  It involves meeting a wonderful penpal of mine and seeing the beautiful city where she lives.  Nuremberg is a great city, but I've been a bit isolated here and I'm really looking forward to moving onto the next thing.  The next few days will involve lots of travel as I hop from Nuremberg to Bamberg to Berlin, but I can hardly wait!

Plan D

If I will take nothing else from this trip I certainly better learn some flexibility, and fast!

Plan A was to stay with my friend immediately upon arriving in Germany.  She began to have some  serious health problems and it became apparent a few days before I left that it would not be possible for me to stay with her right away.  While I was disappointed, I realize she did not ask me to make other arrangements lightly.  I will still get to meet and visit her, but having my original plan changed so last minute really threw me for a loop.

Plan B was to stay one night in Nuremberg and then travel the next morning to Prague.  I booked my tickets and hostel while still in the US a few days before I left.

Plan C was formed during a panic attack on the plane.  I had access to the internet and found there was a hotel attached to the Frankfurt airport.  I told myself if I couldn't handle any more that I would go directly there and stay until I could figure something out.

Then I went back to plan B.  I thought I would force myself to power through whatever anxiety I was experiencing and make it to Prague.  However on my first night, and what was supposed to by my only night in Nuremberg, plan D came into being.

At 3:00 am while I was sitting in bed shaking from anxiety, I realized there was no way in hell I could force myself to get up in a few hours and travel 4 hours by train with multiple transfers.  Maybe on a good day I could have handled it, but today was not that day.  At 4:00 am I stumbled down to reception and found out that I could stay at my current hostel for 2 additional nights.  While it was definitely not what I was planning to do today, I knew it was the right decision.

I finally managed to fall asleep again at about 4:30 am and slept somewhat soundly for the first time in a week.  Maybe not as soundly as I'm used to, but I'll take it! I awoke feeling a bit off, but mostly alright, and decided to venture out into the Old Town section of Nuremberg.

Nuremberg Old Town

A river cuts Old Town in half

Nuremberg's Old Town is surrounded by a stone wall.  My hostel is located right inside the South wall, and you can see it from my room.  It takes about 20-25 minutes to walk across Old Town and there is a castle located on the other side.  Today I wandered through the streets for a few hours this afternoon and found my way to the castle.

On the way there I munched on a pretzel, wandered into a craft store (who's surprised? No one?) and visited 3 different Cathedrals--all of them spectacular.

St. Lawrence Cathedral

One of the beautiful stained glass windows 

 The castle was pretty neat.  It was built during the middle ages and hosted many Roman Emperors through the years.  I got a bit burnt out part way through the audio tour and unfortunately didn't absorb much, but it has some spectacular views of the city from one of the towers.

Imperial Crown

Climbing the tower

Part of the castle and Old Town

It started to rain on my walk back to the hostel so for the rest of the afternoon I took a nap, watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer and skyped with my mom.  I still feel a bit disoriented, but I definitely think I'm starting to regain my footing.  I've got one more full day in Nuremberg before I take a train to Berlin.  At least, that's the plan for now! We'll see if Plan D is the one that actually sticks.

Food Diplomacy

After almost 24 hours of travel and very little sleep I made it to Europe and to an actual bed that I will actually get to sleep in tonight. Actually,  I can hardly believe it!

My morning started with a panic attack.  And lots of second guessing whether or not I was doing the right thing.  There have been a lot of obstacles, and only a few days ago I had to completely change my plans for my first week in Europe.

After saying goodbye to my Bogie pup, (we're not even going there.  I can't even look at pictures of him at the moment,) my mom and brother drove me to the airport.  I was freaking out and mostly quiet, which freaked my mom out, so it was good to have my brother there.  When my mom and I were once again discussing the pros and cons of my delaying the trip (read: trying to convince ourselves that this wasn't a completely stupid idea for me to go,) my brother replied in his always clear and even tone; "Do you really want your actions to be dictated by what the chemicals in your brain are telling you to do?" But it was much more succinct and wise than that.  I can never fully replicate the way my always-rational brother talks.  He's like a scientific Buddha.

When I arrived at the terminal I was physically shaking.  I'm afraid my goodbye with my family wasn't the best, because I could hardly focus on anything but not letting my legs collapse underneath me.

The plane ride was hellish.  I got maybe 2 hours of sleep, and was so freaked out that I couldn't eat breakfast.  I actually had to pull out the barf bag at one point.  Luckily it didn't get any use.

Once we landed, I managed to withdraw money, get a phone with a local number, and stumble upon the right train accidentally.  But oh! When I turned the corner from the train station and saw the sign for my hostel I could have done cartwheels.  It's really nice, and clean, and just what I needed.  I'll be sad to depart so soon (tomorrow actually!) but for tonight I'm grateful to have a place to sleep that's not a tiny airplane seat or hunched over my backpack on the train.

Things I learned on Day One:

1. Don't panic pack and bring a huge suitcase even though you promised yourself you wouldn't bring one.  Your back will hate you.  
2. Sometimes it's worth paying a little extra to not have to wait for four hours outdoors on the freezing train platform.  
3. Most people are pretty helpful, even if they are a sketchy looking middle aged German man, smoking outside a bar (Sorry mom! I promise I'm safe!)
4. German 99 cent microwave meals are just as crappy as American ones. 
5. Food breaks down language barriers.  If the half German half Turkish man you're eating dinner with offers you olives out of a plastic bag, you accept.  Even if you don't like olives.  
6. You then offer him a chocolate covered strawberry in return.  Food diplomacy at it's finest. 

5,968,800 Seconds

In two months and a little over a week I will be boarding a plane for another continent and leaving behind the city where I have lived for more than 21 years.  I like to think of myself as adventurous, as someone who likes to explore new places and meet new people, but the truth is I love familiarity.

I like the way the banana with peanut butter tastes every morning when I eat it for breakfast.  I like knowing exactly where they keep the cilantro in the grocery store one block from my house.  I like waking up every morning under the quilt my cousin made me, with my dog's whiskers tickling my ear.  I like knowing exactly how much it costs to mail a letter, all of my neighbors' first names, and when the leaves on the gingko tree across the street from my house turn yellow in the fall.
Leaving my life for several months, saying goodbye to family, friends, my beloved dog, and flying half way across the world terrifies me.  And that is exactly why I'm doing it.

I bought my ticket in November and promptly put it out of my mind.  I needed to focus on school and work.  "You'll plan more after the semester is over," I told myself.
Well, now the semester is over.  But I still have work.  And some loose ends to tie up for school.  And I need to decide what university I'll be transfering to next fall.  And I have to return books to the library.  And go to an eye check-up appointment that I was suppose to schedule in September.  Life keeps moving and I have no idea where I'm going to be sleeping in three months.
I have a stack of guide books to read, hostels to research, shoes to buy.  I have to decide if I'm taking my cell phone, if I need travel insurance, and, oh yeah, which countries I'll actually be visiting.
For years I've lived in the same house, slept in the same bed since I left a crib and although I'm definitely excited, the reality of traveling so far away by myself is really sinking in.

I've been abroad before, but I really struggled on my last international trip.  I was 16, traveling with a friend's family and dealing with undiagnosed health problems.  Pretty much a recipe for disaster.  Almost every journal entry from that trip talks about how homesick I was, I cried at least once a day, and by the time I returned I had racked up hundreds of dollars in phone charges calling my family frequently.

I realize I am much stronger, more stable, and happier than I was during that period in my life, but that's partly due to a carefully crafted regimen. Yes, I am stronger now, but I am also more careful about taking care of myself, and traveling will throw that all out of whack.

I am hoping that this semester will be one where I discover just how strong I really am.  I know no matter what happens it will be a life-defining, monumental experience, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't having some major anxiety about it.

I've got 68 days before I set out on the biggest adventure of my life so far.  So stick around! I'm going to Europe!