Croatian Exploration

One of the best parts of our Eastern European Grand Tour of 2016 almost didn't happen because we were 90 seconds away from missing our flight to Split.

Let me explain.

We flew from Budapest to Milan, where we had an overnight layover. But, we found out that there is a hotel in the Milan Airport, and since we didn't want to sleep on the airport floor (and since we were exhausted and were in desperate need of a shower), we decided to stay the night in the hotel.

It was one of the best ideas we had all trip. If anything, it meant that we got to sleep in fluffy, warm beds and take hot showers. Which, when you've been traveling at high octane speeds, matters an awful lot.

But what it also meant was that we were in the wrong terminal for our departure the next morning. We didn't know that the terminal we needed was a 10-minute bus ride away from our terminal . . . so we went searching for our flight in the first terminal, only to be told by janitors that the terminal we needed was, well, it was pretty far away. And we had no time to get there. We were 100% sure the check-in had already closed, but we had to try anyway.

So we ran onto the bus, mentally preparing to have to spend a couple of days in Milan (because, surprise, flights to Split don't happen very frequently), but physically prepared for a sprint to the gate.

And boy, did we run. We were told by the lady at the check-in counter that check-in had closed, but we had our tickets printed out (somehow? I don't remember when we did it, but it ended up saving our lives), so she said, "Go! Go right now! You're boarding!" And so we ran to the security counter, where we almost had to go back and check in a bag (again, I am so done with flying with dirt-cheap airlines), but when we told the lady there, "We would go back, but the check-in is closed," she took pity on us, rolled her eyes, and said, "Go, then."

And so, we ran. As luck would have it, of course our gate was at the farthest end of the terminal. So we ran, and ran, and ran . . . and made it just was they were closing the gate. We were the last two to board the plane. I still don't know how we made it on that flight. We shouldn't have. I mean. We really shouldn't have.

As Kronk put so well,

But we got on the plane, and we made it to Split.

And we were so glad we did. The days in Croatia were a dream. We visited Diocletian's Palace, ate gelato, hiked, swam in the Adriatic Sea, and sunbathed. I finally understood the Brits when they said a proper holiday is going to the beach.

The Dalmatian coast is absolutely beautiful. I have never seen water so clear before.

[Cover-ups and swimming suits. All you need in Croatia.]

[Dicoletian's Palace.]

[Every day at noon, Emperor Diocletian greets his people. Yes, it is everything you could imagine.]

[You never know what you'll stumble upon when hiking in Croatia. Like old churches.]

[Or ocean overlooks.]

[Or honey-lavendar gelato.]

[Or giant aloe vera plants.]

[Or Diocletian grafitti.]

What I'm trying to say is that Croatia was amazing. The sun and sea were healing and there is something to be said in having days devoted to sun, sea, sand, and ice cream while traveling. 

Also, where else can you get views like this? 

Nights on the Adriatic are a dream. Especially when you are eating watermelon on the harbor. Couldn't ask for anything more. 

A Night Train to Budapest

In addition to the "Semi-Unwise Foodie Road Trip Through Eastern Europe," Briana and I also called our trip a mixture of a James Bond/90s sitcom/Korean soap opera. 

All of these descriptions were encompassed in our Night Train to Budapest. 

I mean, "a night train to Budapest" just exudes romanticism. "Oh, you know, we just took a night train to Budapest . . ." 

It's in every spy novel ever. 

Anyway. Briana and I took a night train to Budapest. 

[Not the night train. This is the Prague train station, around 11 pm. Our train left at 11:59 pm. Briana is being the responsible adult and sleeping while I'm staying up past my bedtime.]

When we got on the train, we thought that we had a compartment all to ourselves, and we were so relieved, because that meant--well, it meant that there wouldn't be any creepy men as compartment mates, in the first place. It also meant that we didn't have to adhere to anyone else's schedule, we would have the sink and closet to ourselves . . . the list goes on and on. 

Just when we were celebrating, thinking that we had the compartment ourselves, there was a knock on the door. 

"Excuse me? I have this compartment." 

"Uhhhh, what?" 

It wasn't a creepy man. It was a Korean girl. But there was a lot of confusion as we tried to figure out 1) Were we all in the right compartment, and 2) If so, where were we all going to sleep? 

We found out that there was another bunk bed at the very top of the compartment, and that we had to pull that one down and the middle one, so we all ended up having about six inches of head space. 

We all ended up getting to sleep eventually. (The Korean girl had a very strict beauty regiment that included showering twice--which, honestly, based on how Briana and I stunk, maybe our Korean friend had the right idea.) 

And the next morning . . . we woke up in Hungary. (Which, honestly, I think night trains are so cool for that reason--you wake up in a completely different place.) 

[This is how I felt after our night train and walking around Budapest sweaty, stinky, and hungry. But don't worry. This face does not symbolize how I felt about Budapest overall. Just that moment. And my face was much happier after eating food.]

Hungary is fascinating (and that includes its insanely complicated language). Budapest feels heavier than Prague, if that makes any sense. Again, it is saturated in history--oppression, revolution, and hopes for freedom bleed into the Danube which cuts between Buda and Pest. 

[On the Pest side.]

[On the Buda side. It was a dream of mine to walk on both sides of Budapest.]

[The Danube.]

Some interesting things about Budapest: 

[My name is everywhere there. I have no idea what it means. Except I just checked Google Translate and apparently it means "more." Cool.]

[The houses and apartments show their age here. You can still see the bullet holes from 1956 on some of the buildings.]

[This view never gets old. It's also in every Cold War spy movie ever.]

[Minas Tirith is actually in Budapest.]

[Here's another shot if you didn't believe me. It's actually Minas Tirith. Surprise.]

One of the most moving things I saw in Budapest was the Shoe Memorial on the Danube River. It was made in 2005 to memorialize Jews who were lined up and shot into the Danube during the years of the Arrow Cross terror (Arrow Cross was a fascist group in Budapest). The people were taken to the Danube, told to take off their shoes, and then shot into the river. 

The shoes--their sizes, shapes, and styles--were varied. There were some shoes that looked exactly my size and the kind of shoes I like wearing, and that made the terror of the past even closer to me. I think that often we don't think that things like this could ever happen to us, but unfortunately, we never know the twists and turns history will take . . . and how close tragedy will strike. The memorial was a reminder to me of my need to stand up against oppression and to be brave.

We didn't have very much time in Budapest (unfortunately), and I hope to have a chance to come back someday and get some more time to soak in the city . . . and learn some Hungarian phrases. There is empowerment that comes when you know even just a little bit of a country's language. The same is true when you know some of the country's history or culture. It helps you actually embrace the world instead of just tasting it. 

The Semi-Unwise Foodie Road Trip Through Eastern Europe--Prague Beginnings

Sooooo, I have  LOT to catch up on. I got back from England about a week ago, and I've been terrible at updating my blog for the past month, so you know there is a lot of backlog, including final thoughts about Oxford, travels in Europe, etc.

So I'm going to try to do a blog post a day on the epic Eastern European Grand Tour my friend Briana and I embarked on in July. And by epic, I mean epic. We traveled to 10 countries in 14 days . . . which sounded like a great idea in February (oh, and we thought we could do even more back then--how young and naive we were). But by the time it's high July in central and Eastern Europe and you're backpacking and traveling from city-to-city on a daily basis . . . it gets exhausting. Amazing (like, I have no regrets about doing the trip, and it's something that I will tell to my children and grandchildren), but it's exhausting. And next time I decide to do something this big, I will factor in more time for sleeping.

Our journey started in Prague. After a rough flight (literally--I am never flying with cheap Czech airlines ever again), we arrived safely in that beautiful city. Briana had traveled to Prague before, so she knew exactly where we needed to go, and also knew that the best place to take me to have my first taste of Prague was the Vltava River.

[Isn't that beautiful?]

[Simply stunning.]

[This is us after the flight.]

[Just kidding. THIS is us after the flight.]

I fell in love with Prague's charm and beauty. It has the feel of an Old World capital (which makes sense), and it had this fairy-tale/medieval rustic-ness about it. At the same time, you can tell that it was a Soviet satellite years ago. We decided that it felt like "Austria with Soviet sauce." 

Highlights of our time in Prague included, among others . . .

-- A stay in the Botel (a hotel on a boat--coolest thing ever. Also, the demographic was 60-70-year-old retirees, so we were the only ones under 30 at breakfast, which was funny. Also, the choice of music was interesting--who knew that pan pipes playing 90s love songs was in demand for botels?). 

--The architecture in general. 

[Bohemian Rhapsody.]

--The cobblestone streets and alleyways are magical. 

--The cathedral in the centre of town is also incredibly beautiful.

[The stained glass windows were rich and vivid. The pictures definitely don't do them justice.]

--The views were also incredible. 

--One of the highlights was the history of the city. I got to visit Wenceslas Square, which is where Prague Spring in 1968 took place. We also went to a KGB Museum, which was one of the more, um, interesting parts of the trip. We are 300% the curator was former KGB. He didn't tell us his name. But I'm guessing his name was Viktor. Or Boris Badunov. 

[At Wenceslas Square.]

--I wasn't too impressed with the food in Prague (we had bad luck), except for one thing: TRDELNIKS. They are this sweet pastry with wrapped around a stick, with walnuts, cinnamon, and almonds on it. You can fill them with all sorts of delicious goodness--whether sweet or savoury. Mmmmmmmmmm, boy. 

--Also, the doors and walls in Prague are pretty cool. Just sayin'. If I lived in Prague, I think I would start an Instagram account called "Doors of Prague." 

[Just one of the cool doors of Prague.]

The walls were also cool. As this one demonstrates: 

[Proof that emoticons existed in the 15th century. And that I'm a dork.]

All in all, even though it was a rough start, I really enjoyed Prague. And it provided the perfect jumping off point to our next stop . . . Budapest. 

sister power.

Before I forget, I need to post pictures from the time that two of my sisters came to visit me in Oxford. It was great having them here and they were kind to put up with me (especially as I was dead tired from a whirlwind trip to Russia and was preparing to go on another whirlwind tour of Eastern Europe and they were dead tired from jet lag).

But there was something special for me in showing Sarah and Katy "my Oxford"--a place that has become a part of me this year--and it was nice to show people from home that yes, this is a real place, and yes, it is beautiful and quirky, and yes, here are the people I've talked so much about. There's something . . . necessary in doing that, I think. It bridges the gaps between home and abroad.

Anyway. Enough philosophizing. Let's show some pictures (which are mostly silly selfies).

[Sisters! Sans Erika, unfortunately. But I don't know if England could have handled the intensity of all 4 Armknecht sisters at once.]

[Visiting Fountains Abbey.]

I dragged Katy and Sarah around Oxford, the North, and more in Oxford. So again, they were super patient with me. Which might explain Katy's face in this picture:

I'd probably want to eat me, too. Or at least my sunglasses.