Hallo København:

It's currently 7:23am Central Standard Time here in good old Cedar Falls, Iowa. Yes, that means I am finally home, and I am officially feeling the burn of jetlag and a seven-hour time difference. I've had a lot of alone travel time (21 hours, to be exact) to reflect on my abroad experience, but my thoughts and emotions are still as tangled as they were when I boarded my first flight over twenty-four hours ago. Please be patient with me as I try and sort out my feelings and reflections about the past four months; I promise I will post my final reflections once I come to terms with them myself. In the meantime, I thought I'd share some stories from my last adventure: the trip home.

I left my Danish home for the last time at 5:45am (10:45pm Iowa time), as I had a flight that was departing at 8:15am. My hosts drove me to the airport, where I joined the lines of other DIS students checking in baggage. I knew my checked bag was too heavy, but the fee for overweight baggage on international flights is $200 (also known as $200 more than I had to spend). I was fully prepared to break down and cry in front of the flight representatives in hopes of weaseling my way out of the fee...I had also brought along an empty trash bag so that, if worst came to worst, I could throw away some of my half-empty shampoo and soap bottles and the like.

The DIS student in front of me in line went up to the counter and placed her suitcase on the scale. The representative winced and told her that the bag was too heavy and that she either had to check a second bag (for a fee) or pay the overweight fee (for an even larger fee). The girl protested, but ended up having to fill a cardboard box (that she subsequently checked as a second bag) with some of her belongings. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling so confident about the persuasive power of my crying abilities after seeing that.

Finally, it was my turn. I nonchalantly put my bag up on the scale, pretending that it wasn't hard at all for me to lift. The representative glanced at his computer and said the bag was 24.4kg, about 3 pounds too heavy. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I explained that I had been away for four months and that I was just trying to get home for the holidays. It seemed as if the representative was barely listening; but to my surprise, he slapped a sticker on my bag that said "HEAVY" and wrote "23kg" underneath it. He winked at me and said, "This bag is 23kg. It will be our little secret." I thanked him enthusiastically and set off for European security for (what I thought would be) the last time...but not before stopping to spend my last Danish kroner on a six-pack of seasonal beer at duty-free.

My first flight was relatively painless; I landed in Amsterdam with about an hour and a half until my connecting flight to Chicago. There was a bit of a struggle with finding the "transfer desk," where I was instructed to go to get a copy of my third flight's (from Chicago to Iowa) boarding pass. After walking twenty minutes one-way, I found the desk...and a large line of people waiting. Since I had no idea when the gate for my Chicago flight would close, I opted to skip the transfer desk and head straight to the gate...that's one flight I did not want to miss.

At the gate, I was greeted with a surprise: a strange check-in system and a second security check for just this gate, complete with a body and bag scanner. I got to the front of the security line with my two carry-on bags and my duty-free beer bag in tow and threw it all on the security belt. A female security officer grabbed my duty-free bag and looked at the receipt before informing me that I could not bring duty-free items that had not been purchased from this airport onto this flight. Apparently, you can't bring duty-free items from one EU country onto a flight from a different EU airport...while this makes sense for the products that can be purchased across all countries and airports, the beer I had purchased was a limited-time offer available only in Denmark. Not only that, but the woman from whom I had purchased the beer had scanned my boarding pass and neglected to inform me of this rule...how the heck was I supposed to know this?

I protested feebly to the female officer, explaining the limited-time offer of the beer and the fact that I was bringing it home as a souvenir. She spoke in Dutch to her colleague, a male security guard, who glanced at the beer, nodded, and said appreciatively: "Carlsberg, hm? Okay. Put it in here."

"Here" was one of my carry-on bags: a grey suitcase that was currently filled with glass objects (wrapped in bubble wrap and scarves), a few light Christmas presents and two boxes of flødeboller (I have a problem, okay?). I shoved the beer into the case just as the male officer said, "We'll check this bag for you."

Wait, what? I replied that I could not check the bag because of the glass objects, to which the officers responded by simply grabbing an empty backpack that I had stuffed into the grey suitcase and saying, "Use this." And that's how I ended up two backpacks as my carry-ons: one filled with my laptop, camera and in-flight entertainment, and the other stuffed with fragile glassware.

My favorite part of this situation, however, happened when the female security officer was helping me move the glasses into my second backpack; as she was rummaging through my grey suitcase in search of more fragile items to remove, she happened across a box of spa wafers from my trip to Prague. She exclaimed excitedly, "Where do you come from?" Confused, I answered, "The States? But I've been traveling for the past few months across Europe." She laughed and explained that she was from the Czech Republic and that she had not seen a box of these snacks in a long time. Her excitement was palpable, and it was such a sweet moment to see her emphatically explaining the wafers to her colleagues.

Finally, after arranging and rearranging, I left behind my new friends at security ("C'mon, ma'am, I'd do anything for you") and my newly checked bag (illegally holding a case of Danish beer...and did I mention that this additional checked bag was checked FOR FREE? Again, love my new security friends) and headed into the actual gate. There, I got my boarding passes all straightened out and got moved to Economy Plus seating (yay, more leg room! For free!). Finally, it was time to board the plane, and I settled in for a long (and largely uneventful) nine-hour flight.

But, of course, it wouldn't be a story unless something went wrong. As a disclaimer: I originally had an hour and a half to make my connecting flight in the States. When I checked in to my flight a day prior to leaving Denmark, I noticed that there had been a schedule change; my flight from Chicago to Iowa had been moved up a half an hour, leaving me with only an hour to make the connection. The flight company had neither emailed or called me to inform me of this change; I had only found out from glancing at my new itinerary. I didn't think it would be possible, but my friends and family assured me that I make the flight. So anyway, here's what happened...

We landed in Chicago a bit behind schedule, leaving me with less than forty minutes to get through customs and immigration and get to my next gate...in the domestic terminal....from the international terminal. Fun (not) fact: When you fly into the United States from another country, you have to collect your checked bags from baggage claim to go through customs...and then re-check your bags and go through security again before heading to your next flight. With such a time crunch, this was the antithesis of what I needed. I bolted off the plane, breezed through immigration and was stopped dead at baggage claim. I had to wait over fifteen minutes for the bags, but by then, it was already too late. I had missed my first flight ever, and of course it was the flight that would take me home after four months abroad and seven months away from Iowa.

Dejectedly, I headed toward a nearby service desk to negotiate a new flight. After twenty minutes, the line had not budged an inch. A nearby TSA officer recommended that I head to Terminal 1, the location of the domestic hub for the airline I was flying on, to see the representatives there. I headed toward the tram as the perfect picture of the struggle bus: two backpacks (one balancing precociously on each shoulder), a small suitcase and an overweight large suitcase. Needless to say, going anywhere was a hassle.

I got off the tram at Terminal 1 and beelined to a service counter. The representative listened half-heartedly to my story and asked why I had missed my connection. I replied that the airline company had rescheduled my connection, and that the new flight times did not allow sufficient time for me to go through immigration, collect my baggage and go through customs, let alone also re-check my bags and get to another terminal. He replied that that fact that I had been delayed due baggage was a customs issue and that the airline could not be held responsible for my missed connection; he could put me on standby for the only remaining flight of the day, for which there were already two passengers on standby, and if necessary, the airline could provide a small stipend to help pay for the cost of a hotel for the night.

Not responsible? Standby? Small stipend, but not actually cover the cost? Oh hell no.

After reacting in what I felt was an appropriate manner to react to the current situation, the representative went to talk to his supervisor. He came back with a booking code for me for a flight with American Airlines, as well as a receipt that indicated that my current airline had transferred my ticket and costs to American Airlines. I thanked him and headed off to my third and final terminal of the Chicago airport: Terminal 3.

After the inevitable struggle with the bags, I arrived in Terminal 3 and entered in my booking code at an American Airlines kiosk...only to find that the booking code did not work...uh-oh. I went up to the counter and explained my situation to the representative, showing her all my receipts, boarding passes and the information from the other representative. She entered in my info and informed me that the other airline had not actually issued me a ticket - despite my receipt and (what I assumed was) proof of the transaction, I had no seat or ticket for this flight...which, might I add, was due to depart in about an hour.

Here is where I started to panic. 

I pleased with the representative, asking her to please just help me out and call the other airline to figure out what happened. I pointedly repeatedly to the receipt. I gestured helplessly to my bags, explaining that I just could not pick up all four of my bulging bags (yes, this part was my own fault, but still) and go up the escalator and on the tram and back to Terminal 1 again. She apologized and said that there was nothing American Airlines could do, as the financials for the ticket still resided with the other airlines, and that I better call the former airline's customer service line. Fuming, I moved away from the counter and dialed the former airline, where I was met with "Please stay on the line until the next agent is available"s and annoying hold music. I debated running back to Terminal 1, but time was moving too fast; by the time I got there, got this figured out, and got back to check my bags and go through security, the plane was likely to have taken off.

After watching me struggle on the phone for about ten minutes (I eventually did get to talk to a real person, but after I explained the situation to them in its entirety, they replied that they could not deal with international flights, and seeing as how I had had an international leg of my trip, they would have to transfer me to a different department...where I was met with more hold music), the American Airlines representative called me back over. She got on the phone and made some serious calls; the line of passengers waiting to check-in swelled behind me. I felt bad being "that girl," but what else could I do? Finally, after about another ten minutes, the representative hung up the phone, typed a bit on her computer, and printed me out a boarding pass. I was so happy I could cry; instead, I thanked her profusely for her help and bolted to security. I did have to pay $60 to check my two bags, but the representative gave me a receipt so I can chew the other airline out and demand a refund for screwing me over.

Four months of living somewhere changes you. Yes, that's an obvious statement, but hear me out. It changes your routines, your expectations. It changes your worldview, your priorities, your friendships and your demeanor. I have yet to fully process the fact that I'm leaving Denmark on Sunday, though I can already feel myself romanticizing my semester: looking back through pictures and old blog posts, sharing "remember when" stories with my friends, walking back through all my favorite haunts in Copenhagen. Maybe its the nostalgia talking, but I can't imagine going back to the States and leaving this new life behind. I will miss so much about my European semester, especially...

1. Studenterhuset, the coolest café and bar around. It's the only place I know of where I can get a delicious hot chocolate at 10am and two beers for 35 kroner at 9pm. Tuesday night swing dancing, Thursday nights at happy hour, international students with stories to share...it's been one of my favorite places to spend the evening or an afternoon with friends and strangers and a good, cheap drink. 

2. Easy public transportation and my "all zone" pass, which grants me free rides on trains, metros, buses and water taxis all across Copenhagen. Though I can't say that I will miss having public transportation in my life (see below), I can say that I will miss the reliability, easy accessibility and speediness of Denmark's transportation systems. I have never felt more confident navigating myself around than here in Denmark, and I (strangely) have grown to cherish the commute home from school; it's become a time to reflect, to share stories and laughs with my friends and a learning-to-adapt process.

3. Feeling safe when alone and lost. This semester, I traveled to two countries on my own; I spent countless hours in Copenhagen's Central Station in the middle of the night; I got on buses and trains without having any idea of the final destinations. I walked through the Red Light District at night; I got lost in Berlin; I went out with friends and strangers to enjoy the nightlife that unknown cities have to offer. Never have I ever felt alarm in these situations; I have felt safe in a way that I have never felt while traveling in the United States, despite (or perhaps because of?) the fact that I can't understand what's being said around me. 

4. The food. There is no question: I have never eaten better than I have been eating this semester. From pork to pastries to frikadeller to fiske, my food horizons have been broadened in ways I hadn't even imagined. I am so lucky to have lived with hosts who introduced me to Danish food (my favorite is everything on the julefrokost menu...), as well as had the opportunity to try foods from all across Europe (Paris: need I say more?). Speaking of favorites, though, I'm actually not sure if I could pick just one favorite meal...well, aside from this...and this...okay, so I really liked the food, particularly the flødeboller and remoulade (both of which will probably/definitely make an appearance in my luggage for home).

5. Traveling, also known as the ability to be in another country in less than an hour. Different languages, cultures and worldviews are right at your fingertips in Europe, and traveling could not be cheaper than when you're already here. Fun fact: It costs me less to spend a weekend in a foreign country than it typically costs for my flight back home from school for Christmas break. Do you understand why I'll miss this? 

6. European babies. Alison could not have said it better: Europe has given me baby fever. They are everywhere, they are adorable, and they hardly ever cry (is this heaven?). Danish babies, in particular, are SO CUTE. Plus, the fact that Denmark has paternity leave is pretty awesome...Yeah, I'll really miss that gender equality, too.

7. 7-Eleven (how appropiate, right?). As you may know from my previous post, 7-Eleven is awesome. Convenient, cheap, cool people hang out there while waiting for the bus: enough said.

8. The chill atmosphere. I can't think of any better way to say it: Europe is just so chill. No one rushes or stresses or yells; people just take things a day at a time, and they roll with life's punches. This shift in mentality has been a huge growing experience for me personally, and I hope I can continue to (as I oh-so-eloquently like to put it) "chill the f*ck out" back in the States.

9. No open container laws. Drinking in the streets, on the train and in the park...to be honest, this is one of my favorite parts about Europe. C'mon, I'm not about to go to a bar and pay $10 for the same beer that I could get at 7-Eleven for $6...and where else can I drink the beer from 7-Eleven than on the train (or as we've become accustomed to, in the train station)? 

10. The people. I have met so many interesting people this semester. From Danish host parents to old Irishmen to CIOs of major international corporations - this has been a semester of learning about others, as cheesy as that may sound.

I love Europe, but there are definitely some things I will not miss. For example...

11. The cobblestones. My boots have had holes in them since my first weekend trip to Stockholm. Three and a half months later...Yeah, I'll definitely be asking for a new pair of boots for Christmas this year.

12. The prices. Fun fact: In Denmark, you can never buy a meal for less than $10 (and that's for a sandwich, nonetheless)...and even ordering a glass of tap water costs money. Having to pay to go to the bathroom? No thank you, I'd rather hold it and run awkwardly home from the bus stop (you know who you are). Paying for a plastic bag at the grocery store? So over it. With the exception of traveling to Prague and Budapest, being in Europe has become one of the most expensive semesters of my life. I wouldn't trade any of my experiences for a minute (well, I would actually probably trade the times I fell for the tourist traps, of which I am embarrassed to admit that there are many...), but I'm sure my bank account may disagree with me. But (as I often remind myself), you only study abroad once. Well, some people do it more than once, but you get the idea.

13. The commuter life. A one-hour commute and a bus that only runs twice an hour? I was over this arrangement on day one. But thanks to Struggle Bus (also known as the 230R towards Frederickssund Station), I have had a great many laughs (and a few tears) at the ridiculousness that is living like a local. My friends and I have somehow adapted and made the best out of the situation, finding ways to laugh and pass the time.

14. Secondhand smoke. Because you know, there's nothing I love better than reeking of cigarettes and having an increased risk of lung disease. Good thing everyone in Europe smokes...not.

15. The tourists. Even though Copenhagen isn't a particularly tourist-y city, I am more than ready to be back in a more rural environment. I am quite familiar with the throngs of tourists that gather outside of the entrance to Tivoli, as I often have to push past them to catch the train on time. Not to mention the thousands upon thousands of tourists in Paris, London, Prague and Berlin (though Budapest, not so much...).

16. No top sheet. Seriously though, where is all the bedding? Europeans don't sleep with a top sheet on their beds. This was a bit strange to get used to, as all hostel beds (not to mention my own bed at my host family's house) were fitted with only the bottom bed-sheet and a comforter. Again, cross-cultural differences at their finest...

17. No to-go boxes and no leftovers. Europeans don't seem to believe in to-go boxes, as in, a box in which to place leftovers from a meal from a restaurant to bring back home. It just isn't done; you're (apparently) expected to just leave what you don't eat. Excuse me if I just want to get my money's worth out of my meal; leftovers are the half the fun of eating out in the first place!

18. European attempts at bagels and basically any other American food. This one isn't actually that big of a deal, seeing as how I love European food (see above). It is, however, pretty strange to see how the Danes conceptualize the word "bagel" as synonymous to "a sandwich with everything." Apparently eating a bagel with just cream cheese isn't really a thing in Denmark...and neither is mac 'n cheese (which is obviously the real struggle for me).

19. Pickpockets. I was fortunate to not really experience pickpocketing firsthand this semester, though I did (unfortunately) have two instances of "losing something/potentially having something stolen/either way, I'm a dumbass" kinds of moments. For one, my memory card wallet, which was holding two or three (thankfully empty) memory cards mysteriously went missing during a tram ride in Vienna...thank God that my actual wallet, which was right next to the memory cards, was still there. The other instance was entirely my own fault; since I'm too cheap to pay for bar coat checks, I left my coat on a random hook in the basement of a bar (and to be completely fair here, my friends all did the same thing). We came back to grab our jackets a few hours later, and my coat (yes, just mine) was nowhere to be found (the joke is on the thief, though, that coat has holes in the pockets and is missing several buttons, so...good one). Though these situations are obviously not ideal, I'm glad that my experiences with pickpocketing and stealing in Europe were as minimal as they were; I know several other DIS students who were not so lucky.

20. Missing home. The grass is always greener on the other side...of the pond. Europe has been amazing, but this semester has not come without bouts of homesickness for far-away friends and family. Thinking about leaving is bittersweet; I am excited to go home and share my stories with the people I love, but I also just want to stay right here. I wish I could bring my friends and family to Denmark and have the best of both worlds (because let's face it, I want to live here forever).

But despite my affinity for the European lifestyle (and the more-than-a-few struggles I've encountered along the way), I'm headed back to America this Sunday. Where did the time go?

About a month ago, I went on a field study with my Sociology of the Family course to Barnets Hus Amerikavej, a kindergarten/child care facility in Copenhagen. We took a tour of the facility, learned about its pedagogical philosophies and "observed" (read: played with) the kids. For the latter, we were divided up across several different classrooms. I was placed in a room with about ten children ranging in age from ten months to two and a half years. As soon as I sat down on the floor, one young girl beelined straight for me, plopping herself in my lap and talking a hundred miles a minute to me in Danish. Unfortunately, despite her excellent communication skills, I had no idea what she was saying. Sometimes, she would pause and look at me expectantly, to which I would helplessly stare back blankly and offer a smile. Without any way to contextualize her speech, it was the best I could do.

This moment is only one example of the many language barriers I've run across this semester. Of course, there's the daily announcement over the train intercom, which my friends and I always shrug off as not necessarily important to have understood. Then there is conversation with my host family, which is what has really opened my eyes to the power of language comprehension. And now, after traveling to eleven different countries and experiencing eight different languages, I can honestly say that I am almost....ashamed to only speak English. 

When I first arrived to Denmark, hearing a new language was a huge culture shock for me. I just wasn't used to not understanding what was being said around and to me. I've become accustomed to it by now, so much so that I strangely crave the cluelessness of non-comprehension. Yet I am also extremely fortunate that almost all Danes speak some English. Whenever I've asked someone for help, directions or a translation, the Danes have been super responsive, articulate and considerate of the fact that they cannot reply to me in their native language. While this is beyond convenient for me, it always makes me feel a bit annoyed at myself and my lack of Danish language knowledge. Why should the Danes speak my language to me when I cannot speak their own in their own country?

But it's not just about speaking English.

In Ireland, I met Irishmen who knew the current lineup of the University of Iowa's football team. In Prague, I met a store employee who knew the capital of my home state. Here in Denmark, I live with a host family who collects license plates from states all across America. It would seem that Europeans are both curious and knowledgable about the States, and their intelligence even (dare I say it?) surpasses that of some (read: a lot of) Americans. To be honest...it's a bit embarrassing. If Europeans can (and do) know what my state flag looks like, the least I could do is try and speak a different language. I have so much respect for the amazing people who go out there and master languages, who delve into cultures head-on, who throw themselves into multiculturalism to see all the world has to offer.

I only wish I had had more time here in Denmark to do the same.

Twenty-one. How the heck did that even happen? To answer all your questions about turning the big 2-1 in Europe: Yes, it is anticlimactic, and no, that does not mean celebrating wasn't fun. I was lucky enough to get to spend my actual birthday in Dublin, Ireland, with two good friends, as well as fortunate enough to come back home to Copenhagen for more celebrations. I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my twenty-first!

The Day Before

The day before I left for my weekend trip to Ireland, my host family presented me with a surprise gift and cake for my birthday! The cake (below) was a traditional Danish birthday cake, complete with an outside layer of marzipan and decorative Danish flags.

The Weekend in Dublin

My trip to Dublin was, quite honestly, fantastic. Alison and I have been planning this weekend trip since the beginning of September, and despite some major struggles (beer-soaked backpacks, hostel plumbing issues and accidentally buying tropical-flavored squash as a mixer, to name a few...), we had an awesome time. Dublin is a great city, but my heart belongs to the Dubliners themselves; we met so many interesting, quirky and fun people, all of whom brought something unique to our conversations. I wish I could recount our interactions, but somehow I don't think I can capture those moments. I'll just say this: the Irish are extremely knowledgeable and quick-witted; I could barely keep up with the jokes that were flying back and forth! And just to prove that we didn't spend the entire weekend at pubs, here are a few photos from our tourist-y activities, which included the Guinness Factory, the Jameson Distillery, the Book of Kells, Trinity College, St. Stephen's Green, Dublin Castle and more.

Above: Alison and I at the Guinness Factory. Below: Brunch and Irish coffees at Queen of Tarts, the cutest little diner/cafe I have ever seen. That frittata though...

Above: Jameson Distillery whiskey tastings at 10am on a Sunday morning...In a competition between Scotch, Jameson and Jack Daniels, I choose Jameson all the way. Below: Alison, Ellie and I pouring the perfect pint at the Guinness Factory.

My writer boys: Oscar Wilde (above) and James Joyce (below).

Above: The Long Hall of the Trinity College Library. Below: Team Struggle Bus at our less-than-finest hour: the trip home. Actually, the trip back was the one of the easiest and most struggle-free parts of the whole weekend...in any case, you know you're actually friends when you can spend four straight days together and still like each other at the end of it.

Copenhagen Celebrations

Last night, Tory, Kate, Alexis and I had a small celebratory birthday dinner in Copenhagen. Tory made a lovely meal of chicken and pasta with garlic bread, and, of course, there was flødeboller for dessert. We even played the traditional Danish birthday game of "Eat the flødeboller without your hands" (and to be honest, I'm not 100% sure if that is an actual game, or if Tory just made that up to get us to do it...). Afterwards, Kate, Tory and I went out for a few drinks. It was a great night out in the city!

Above: Kate and I at the Globe, an awesome and hyggeligt bar near Nørreport. Below: Best friends do the first twenty-first.

I just counted the number of days until I board my plane back home, and I really wish I hadn't. 

It's funny how quickly you can change your tune. A few weeks ago, if you had asked me if I was ready to go home, I would have answered with a resounding, "Yes." Now, I wish I could extend my plane ticket by just a feeeew more days...which I'm sure would inevitably turn into just a few more weeks or a few more months or a whole new semester. But the fact remains that I only have three weeks left in Copenhagen, and despite DIS's attempts at making school a priority, I have done pretty much anything but homework over the past few days. I still have a lot left on my "Copenhagen To-Do" list, but here's a brief glimpse at my Copenhagen-filled weekend:

Food (With a Concentration in Desserts)

Above: Honey cake from the bakery in my town. Below: Fancy white chocolate flødeboller from Torvehallerne (the Glass Market), an indoor food market in Copenhagen.

Above: Pastry from Lagerhuset, a fancy bakery with locations all over Copenhagen. Below: Smørrebrød (traditional Danish open-faced sandwiches) display at the Glass Market.

Above: My smørrebrød from the Glass Market - rye bread as the base with potatoes, chicken salad, tomatoes, bacon and onions. Below: My meal at DIS's version of a julefrokost (Christmas dinner, though in our case, it was Christmas lunch), in which all the DIS host families and students came together with traditional Danish dishes to celebrate the Christmas season. On my plate below, there is some potato salad, eggs, hot dogs, frikadeller (meatballs), Æbleskiver (Danish pancakes), and Æbleflæsk (essentially a type of apple and bacon salad, it's actually delicious), among other things. At the party, there was also Christmas caroling and dancing, and I swear I haven't laughed so hard in a really long time - it was just so nice and hyggeligt. 

Outdoor Explorations

Above: Sunlight on a November day in Nørrebro. Below: I finally got up close and personal with the Little Mermaid.

Above: Requisite shot with the Little Mermaid. Below: Beautiful sky and sun streaks in Østerbro.

Museums (including the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art and the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek)

Above: Woman and Flute Player II, Picasso, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. Below: In the Free Blue, Kandinsky, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.

Above: Gleaming Lights of the Souls, Yayoi Kusama, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. Below: Me inside Gleaming Lights of the Souls, Yayoi Kusama, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.

Above: Inside the sculpture garden, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. Below: Alexis and I inside the sculpture garden, Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.

Above and below: Awesome entrance hall of Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.

Above: Two Dancers, Degas, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Below: Spanish Lady in Crinoline, Picasso, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.

Above: Mountainous Landscape Behind Saint-Paul Hospital, Van Gogh, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Below: Shadows on the Sea, Monet, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek.

It's that time again! Prepare yourself for a summary of my third and final travel break, and I promise I'll stop with the one hundred page posts.

Amsterdam

If I were to give a title to my Amsterdam trip, I would call it "That Time I Did Everything Wrong and Still Managed to Have a Good Time." For one, I went by myself, which some people might not find particularly intelligent. A young girl traveling alone in the city famous for cannabis and prostitutes (hey, there are some good museums, too!)? Secondly, because I am the world's greatest procrastinator, I waited until one week before the break to book a hostel. I honestly didn't think this would be a problem; I've previously booked hostel beds on the day I have needed them. Much to my surprise, there were nearly no rooms left in all of Amsterdam for the dates I would be there, and the cheapest rooms available were located in/near the famous Red Light District. I seem to be sensing a theme with my hostel locations (Berlin, anyone?). In the end, I ended up in a mixed dorm at St. Christopher's at the Winston hostel. Although I had my reservations about staying in a co-ed dorm while traveling alone, everything worked out in the end. I made friends with my roommates and chilled with them. Even though the hostel was right around the corner from the Red Light District, I felt safe, and I kept my belongings secure. Though I don't think my Australian roommates were too interested in my DSLR when there was weed to be had on every street corner...

I landed in Amsterdam late Friday night and headed straight to the hostel. Thanks to its prime location, I got to see a fair number of sex shops and clubs en route (photographs below). At the hostel, I stored my stuff and was just about to shower when another girl (Abby) traveling alone came into the room and asked if I wanted to grab a drink with her. I said yes (don't worry, Dad, she was totally legit!), and the two of us headed to the bar downstairs. Abby told me all about her time in Amsterdam, as well as introduced me to Laura, another girl she had met that was also traveling alone. Both of them were older (23 and 26, respectively), from the Midwest (Illinois and Wisconsin), and currently studying/working in Europe (Barcelona and Vienna). The three of us had a really great time talking and meeting other people together!

Above: Quintessential first Amsterdam sight. Below: My (accidental) first Amsterdam sight. Condomerie is exactly what it looks like: a condom store. 

Above and below: Examples of Condomerie's merchandise. But hey, they're pretty intricate, no? Especially the cannabis-themed one (below). Keeping it Dutch...

Both Laura and Abby had to head out the next day, so I went on a Sandemann's free walking tour. I had done one in Berlin that I loved, and the Amsterdam version did not disappoint; I saw a ton of sights (including the famed Red Light District) and was able to get a better lay of the land. 

Above: The National Memorial statue located in Dam Square. It was built to honor the Dutch who died in WWII. Below: Oude Kerk (literally "old church"), the oldest building in Amsterdam. And it just so happens to be located in the middle of the Red Light District...coincidence?

Above: The Begijnhof, a group of historic buildings in Amsterdam. It was originally home to beguines, country women who lived alone and devoted themselves to good works and prayer. Below: The smallest house in Amsterdam (note the red).

Above: Our tour guide got us free cheese samples! Apparently the Dutch name of this cheese translates to something like "cheese that has been laying around for some time." Good to know. Below: Right after the tour, I endured the forty-minute wait in the cold for the Anne Frank Museum. Photography was prohibited inside the house, but a lot of people took pictures anyway, much to my dismay/anger. I definitely recommend the museum, though - an incredible experience.

After the tour and the Anne Frank house, I spent some time wandering around Jordaan, a district of Amsterdam, admiring the canals and scenery. I grabbed a quick dinner before heading to Sexmuseum Amsterdam, which is exactly what it sounds like: a sex museum. Can't say I've ever been to one of those before, but study abroad is about trying new things, right?

Above: Dutch-themed dinner! Mashed potatoes with cabbage and onions (good) and meatballs (not good). I'm not sure why I didn't take my dad's advice and steer clear of the Dutch cuisine, but at least now I can say I've tried it. Below: I don't think this needs a caption and/or translation.

After the sex museum, I wandered around the Red Light District to get a feel for the area at night (once again, another thing that most people would probably have avoided doing). The area was jam-packed with tourist groups hearing stories and the history of the district from their tour guides; it wasn't dangerous at all, though it was quite busy (in all senses of the word). According to my tour guide, the prostitutes have to pay something around 150 Euros for eight hours of time in the windows...but depending on their services, they can earn that back and more in less than an hour. I believe he said that fifteen minutes with a prostitute costs, on average, about 75 Euros. Despite these high prices, people were definitely still going for it.

Above and below: They don't call it the Red Light District for nothing...there are literally red lights that dot the doorways of the prostitutes. Photographs of the prostitutes is, of course, strictly forbidden, and there are stories about how the women will throw pee at you if they see you taking a picture. Needless to say, I was super careful about having my camera out at all when walking through.

Above and below: Various sex shops around the Red Light District.

Above and below: Some tourist-y "coffeeshops" near Dam Square.

The rest of my trip was almost entirely dedicated to museums. Thanks to the generosity of a friend, I was able to borrow a museumkaart, which allows free entry into nearly all of the city's museums for an entire year (thanks Kate and Kate's friend!). It was a huge cost-saver, and I recommend looking into it if you or your friends and family will be visiting Amsterdam at different times during the same year. The card technically belongs to one person, but we passed it along and no one was the wiser.

On Sunday, I started my museum hopping with Stedelijk, an awesome modern art museum with a huge range of artists, including Warhol, Chagall and Mondrian, to name a few. 

Above and below: Pieces in a temporary exhibition Au Bonheur des Dames (The Ladies' Pleasure), the purpose of which was to explore different aspects of the female consumer. 

Above: Flowers, Andy Warhol. One of my favorite pieces of his! Below: Some cool piece I don't know the name of.

Above: Perfection of the Big Dipper, Pollock. Below: The Aubergine, Picasso.

Above: A Mondriaan square. Below: Tableau II: Composition in an Oval, Mondriaan.

Above: Self-Portrait with Seven Fingers, Chagall. Below: Painting with Houses, Kandinsky.

After the Stedelijk museum, I stumbled upon one my goals for the trip: the I amsterdam sign. Due to the beautiful weather, the sign was crawling with people all trying to take the same picture. After my requisite pictures, I took a brief stroll through Vondel Park before enjoying a tram ride back to the Dam Square area (I love trams, okay?).

Above: A barely visible I amsterdam sign. The Rijksmuseum, the Dutch national museum, is behind it (more on this later). Below: Requisite solo shot with the sign.

Above: A closer shot of me and the sign. Below: A Monday morning (the next day) at the sign...and there is next to no one there.

Above: Entrance to Vondel Park. Below: Some delicious dough ball thing with sugar. No idea what it's called, I just liked it, okay?

Back at Dam Square, I stopped at De Appel, a small modern art museum that my friend's friend had recommended. The museum was tiny; I walked through it in five minutes and I left a little less-than-inspired by the artwork. To compensate, I headed back to Oude Kerk (remember the 800-year old church that is in the middle of the Red Light District?). I used the museumkaart to get inside, where I was greeted with beautifully-high arched ceilings and stained glass.

Above: Stained glass inside the Oude Kirke. Note the XXX on the right-hand side; this is Amsterdam's city symbol, and the Xs mean "Valiant, Steadfast, Compassionate." Below: The grave (yes, the grave, I was walking on graves that make up the floor of the church and I didn't even know it eeek) of Rembrandt's wife, Saskia van Uylenburgh.

Keeping with my Rembrandt theme, I headed to the Rembrandt House Museum, which is, as it sounds, the former home of Rembrandt. The house was filled copies of the artist's original belongings, as well as some of his original sketches. 

Above: Rembrandt's workshop. Below: A window from the second floor of the house looking down into Rembrandt's former bedroom, the latter of which is filled with his paintings.

Above: Twisty staircases in the Rembrandt house. Below: An original etching by Rembrandt. 

From the house, I took the tram to one of my most anticipated activities: the Van Gogh Museum. Though it was already around 4pm, there was a long line waiting to get in; thanks to the museumkaart, however, I got to cut the line and get in for free! This was a huge lifesaver, considering that the museum closed at 5pm, which I didn't know at the time. As one might expect, I took a gazillion pictures at the museum, and below are some of my favorites. Disclaimer: Because tourists are dumb and inconsiderate and don't know how to let other people look at a great piece of art, several of these photographs are from the side.

Above: Self-Portrait in Front of the Easel. Below: Sunflowers.

Above: A series. Below: Skull of a Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette.

Above: Self-Portrait with Grey Felt Hat. Below: The Potato Eaters.

Above: Almond Blossom. Below: A closer look at his brush strokes.

Above: Cabbages and Onions. Below: Self-Portrait with Straw Hat.

Post-Van Gogh, I took a tour of Leidseplein, a busy square filled with restaurants, shopping and nightlife. I had a quick dinner and did some more wandering before heading back to the hostel, where I grabbed a few drinks and chatted with my roommates.

Above: Decorations at Leidseplein, complete with the XXX for Amsterdam.

On Monday morning, I trekked back to the Rijksmuseum for a proper walk-through. The museum is huge; you could easily spend a whole day there, though I walked through it in about two hours. I definitely recommend an early Monday morning there; the crowds didn't start to pour in until around 11:30am, so I had a decent amount of time with the works of Rembrandt and Vermeer and the like before it got too crowded.

Above: Self-Portrait with Grey Felt Hat, Van Gogh. Below: La Corniche near Monaco, Monet.

Above: Portrait of a Girl Dressed in Blue, Verspronck. Below: The Milkmaid, Vermeer.

Above: The Night Watch, Rembrandt. Below: A close-up on a piece by Rembrandt.

Keeping with my museum theme, I headed to Foam, a photography museum. There was a cool exhibition there by Lee Friedlander entitled "America by Car." Photos were not allowed, but you can check it out here. From there, I headed to the Eye, a film museum that had been recommended to a friend from a friend. To be honest, I didn't particularly care for the Eye; all of the films were in Dutch with no subtitles, and the museum itself did not offer very many exhibitions. I did get to take a free ferry to get there, though (below). I spent the rest of my afternoon lazily exploring the areas around the hostel before packing up and heading out to the airport around 5pm.

Above: The free ferry I took from Centraal Station (yes, that is the correct spelling of the Dutch word for central) to the Eye, which was on the other side of the canal. Below: A canal shot on the small lock bridge of the city.

Above: Stroopwafels, also known as my one true love. There is a syrup between the two waffle cookie parts. I bought a pack from the grocery store to take home with me, and eight out of ten were gone before I left Amsterdam. Below: A small flower market, of which there were many. Amsterdam loves its tulips.

Above and below: Shots of the Bulldog, a favorite coffeeshop among tourists.

Above: Last dessert of Amsterdam - a chocolate-covered waffle with sugar. Below: Classic canal shot.

Prague

I landed in Prague around 9pm on Monday night and met up with my friend Olivia at the airport. Together, we navigated our way to our hostel (Hostel Downtown - 100% recommend, it's in an awesome location and they gave us a private room even though we only paid for an 8-person dorm) to drop off our stuff and meet Tory (yay!). This was the first time Tory and I traveled together whilst in Copenhagen, and I'm so glad we got to. The three of us grabbed a late-night dinner at a restaurant in Old Town. I ordered a traditional Czech meal of goulash and bread dumplings - so filling and good! We ended dinner around midnight and headed back to the hostel for some much-needed sleep.

On Tuesday morning, Olivia, Tory and I ambitiously got up for a 7am sunrise on the Charles Bridge. Despite the fact that we were exhausted and looked a bit sleepy in our pictures, it was an awesome idea; there were almost no tourists, and the sunrise was absolutely beautiful. And yes, we did go back to sleep afterwards.

Above: Shot of the Prague Castle across the Vltava River, taken circa 7:15am. Below: The entrance to the bridge. 

Above: Sleepy Tory embraces the sunrise. Below: Sleepy Jordan and the Prague Castle.

After our post-sunrise nap and a quick breakfast at the hostel, the three of us headed out for a free walking tour. Our tour guide was quite knowledgable and had a lot of interesting things to say about the city, culture and the greater Czech Republic.

Above: Church of Our Lady Before Týn (Church of Our Lady Before Time), one of the first sights on our tour. It's hard to tell in the photo, but one of the towers (the right) is thicker than the other. In the old days, the Czechs used to explain this architectural malfunction by insisting that the towers represented different genders, with the thicker (and subsequently, stronger) tower as a metaphor for the biblical character Adam. Riiight...the birth of this explanation was also around the same time when defenestration (throwing people out tall windows to their deaths) was a big thing, so take that as you will. Below: A concert hall. Again, it's hard to tell in the picture, but the roof of the venue is dotted with life-sized statues of composers. Allegedly, Hitler ordered that the statue of Mahler, a Jewish composer, be removed from the roof. Two officers were sent to cut down Mahler, but neither of them knew what he looked like...so they measured the lengths of the statues' noses and cut down the statue with the longest nose. Too bad it wasn't Mahler, and instead Hitler's favorite composer...and the officers were "never heard from again" (dun dun dun).

Above: A star of David in the Jewish Quarter. Below: A statue inspired by Franz Kafka's piece Description of a Struggle.

Above: Inside of some cathedral. Not pictured: The dead human hand that is hanging in this cathedral. We only glimpsed it through the window, but still. Like I said, our tour guide was very knowledgable...after she pointed this out, she commented to us that Hannibal Lector was her idol. Cross-cultural communication issues? We'll call it that. Below: Lunch after our tour and not my proudest moment. We stopped at a food stand where they were advertising 100 grams of potato casserole for 50 CZK (about $2.50). I ordered the dish, only to find that the smallest container the stand offered held much more than 100 grams and, seeing as the price of the meal varied by weight, was much more expensive than 50 CZK. Hashtag tourist trap. It's a good thing I love potatoes.

After the tour and lunch, Olivia, Tory and I headed across Charles Bridge to the Prague Castle. We bought a combination entrance ticket that allowed us into an interior area of the castle, the castle's cathedral, another church and a former shopping street filled with artifacts. To be completely honest, the part of the actual castle that we were allowed inside was somewhat disappointing. It was essentially just one giant and somewhat nondescript room. There was another room we could enter that held a copy of the crown jewels, as well as a few other rooms, but all in all, it was not nearly as spectacular as the castle's St. Vitus Cathedral (photos below).

Above: Prague Castle in the afternoon. Beautiful, no? Below: A recreation of my 7:30am castle picture.

Above: The front entrance to St. Vitus Cathedral, the cathedral that dominates every picture in existence of the Prague Castle. Below: The main entrance of the cathedral.

Above and below: Different stained glass panels in the cathedral.

Above and below: More stained glass.

Above: An intricate statue inside the cathedral. Below: Tory lights a candle.

Above: The back side of the cathedral. Below: Golden Lane, a street of colorful and quaint houses and shops inside the castle grounds.

Above: A beautiful view over a beautiful city at a beautiful time. Below: Me posing with Prague.

Above: Mulled wine from the Prague Castle Vineyard. Below: Sunset at the castle.

From the castle, we decided to trek over to Petřín Hill to climb the lookout tower. You can normally take a funicular (essentially an almost vertical cable car) to the top of the hill, but seeing as how we were already half-way up thanks to our stop at Prague Castle, we forwent the ride in favor of walking. Needless to say, our feet were pretty sore after the hill and the stairs to get to the top of the lookout tower...and yes, we took the funicular back down. This also seems to be a reoccurring theme in my blog posts...

Above: The Petřín Lookout Tower. Looks a bit like the Eiffel Tower (and trust me, it felt like climbing it, too...stairs on stairs on stairs). Below: A view of Prague before the sun completely sets. Thanks to our timing, we got to watch the sunset from the top of the tower.

Above: Prague Castle/St. Vitus Cathedral. Below: And...night. The moon glows, the city lights turn on, and the sky turns dark. 

Above: Another shot of a night-time Prague; note the reflection of the tower/sunset on the right side. Below: The lookout tower all lit up.

Above: First time on a funicular! Below: Tory captures the track/view on the way back down in the funicular.

Above: Campanella, a cute restaurant that TripAdvisor directed us to. Side note: If you have an iPhone and are traveling, definitely download the TripAdvisor app. It's an offline app that recommends restaurants and attractions based on your current location. Below: Traditional Czech beer and hygge. 

Above: Thai noodles with chicken. One of the best meals I have had abroad, as well as one of the only times I have had pasta...Below: Chocolate cake for dessert. The fork came stuck sideways inside the cake; I'm not sure if that's a Czech thing or just a fancy restaurant thing, neither of which I am too familiar with in Europe.

After dinner, we accidentally stumbled onto the John Lennon Wall, which was literally right next door to the restaurant. Of course, there was an obligatory photoshoot. The wall itself was not as long as I thought it was going to be, though it was completely covered with graffiti.

Above: The Lennon of the Lennon Wall. Below: Tory gets appropriately contemplative near "Eat, Pray, Love."

Above: Always time for some solo Lennon Wall pictures. Below: Tory and I in front of the wall.

The three of us spent the rest of the night wandering around the streets, enjoying the chill air and populated squares. There is just something about Prague; it's inexplicably beautiful. It's ancient, classic and welcoming...and there is nothing like experiencing a city like this with new and old friends.

Snack time! Olivia opts for roasted chips on a stick (above), whereas Tory goes for sweet/sugar-coated bread (below). In a strange turn of events, I am too full to eat anything else (shocker, I know).

Above: Prague Castle at night. Below: Statues and people on the Charles Bridge.

Above: A statue of King Wenceslas and I (in the lower right) in the aptly-named Wenceslas Square. Side note: I basically just took this picture for Devon. King Wenceslas is your future husband, after all...

And so the travels continue! Tory, Olivia and I started Wednesday morning off with a delicious breakfast at Café Louvre, a place that Olivia's friend had recommended and just so happened to located across the street from our hostel. Tory and I ordered hot chocolates, and we got just that: literal hot chocolate. So sweet, and so good...Post-breakfast, we headed to the Old Town Hall, where you can climb the clock tower for a nice view of the city.

Above: A (not complimentary) bread basket that the waiter brought us. Good thing the food in Prague is cheap, otherwise I would have been real mad about that. Below: My liquid chocolate hot chocolate and freshly-squeezed orange juice.

Above: Apple cake. Again, with the sideways fork nonsense. Below: A traditional "Czech" breakfast: ham, cheese, apple cake, juice, soft-boiled eggs, bread and tomatoes. And, as I now know, those white triangle things are not cheese...they are slabs of butter. Oops.

Above: The Old Town Hall and the Astronomical Clock. On the hour, there is a small clock show featuring the Apostles and other moving sculptures. Below: Up close and personal with the Astronomical Clock.

Above: A shot of the inside of the tower. We took the elevator, to say the least. Below: View of Prague from the top. As you can see, the tower is not nearly as tall as Petřín Hill, which I was 100% okay with.

Above: Another view of the city. Below: At 11:59am, we realized that the hourly show was just about to start...hence Tory's excited face and subsequent race to the clock side of the tower.

Above: View of the crowd gathered for the hourly clock show. We're right above the Astronomical Clock here. Above: Tory and Olivia lean their heads out of the tower for a picture. I barely lean my camera out to take said picture, but you get the idea.

After the tower, we headed back to the Jewish Quarter to see the Old Jewish Cemetery. Because you could only see the cemetery if you bought a ticket bundle, we ended up visiting the cemetery and a bunch of other synagogues, including the Maisel Synagogue, the Spanish Synagogue, the Pinkas Synagogue, the Ceremonial Hall and the Klausen Synagogue. The Spanish Synagogue alone was worth the ticket price; it was honestly one of the most impressive buildings I have ever seen. No photos were allowed, but here's a picture from the Internet. My favorite synagogue, however, was the Pinkas. The inside walls are inscribed with the names of the Jewish victims of the Holocaust from Bohemia, the visual of which was incredibly moving. The synagogue also houses an exhibition of children's drawings from Terezín, a transit camp during WWII. Read more about the drawings here.

Above and below: Shots from the Old Jewish Cemetery. Due to the previously horrible and cramped conditions of the Jewish Quarter, individuals were often buried on top of others, creating a layering system of graves on top of graves. The deepest layer goes twelve graves down.

Tory, Olivia and I then headed back across the Charles Bridge so I could visit the Franz Kafka Museum. Olivia and Tory opted out, but I took an existentialist trip through the museum to learn more about the Czech author. My favorite part of the exhibition was the series of interconnected rooms filled with what seemed like an endless number of file cabinets - quite Kafka-esque, I would say. I'm excited to have free time again so I can read some of his novels (although I was just on a ten-day vacation, so I can't really say I don't have free time...you know what I mean). Afterwards, I met up with Olivia and Tory, and we returned to the Lennon Wall for some more pictures and further explorations.

Above: Me posing with the K of the Franz Kafka Museum. Below: Tory posing with spa wafers, a traditional Czech snack with a taste of hazelnut inside. She and Olivia discovered this super addictive (and not filling whatsoever) snack while I was pondering the meaning of life.

Above: A daytime shot of the Lennon Wall. Below: Tory signs the wall. We now know that ink pens do not work so well when writing on walls...

Above: I made Tory take this picture. Below: Tory, Olivia and I in font of the wall. Fun fact: my friends Alison and Julie had been at the wall only a few days before this, and the green face (on the left) and the "Lest We Forget" (behind us) were not there then. Makes you wonder what the wall originally looked like...

Above: A small chain bridge and canal area near the wall. Below: A chalkboard/interactive art piece. The board is filled with the phrase "Before I die I want to ____" in both English and Czech.

Above: Some answers on the board. Below: Nearby graffiti.

Our wanderings eventually led us to Shooters Island, a small peninsula we had noticed the day before from the Charles Bridge. We spent a nice amount of time on the island, enjoying the nature and views of the city.

Above: Tory finds a playground on the island. Trust me, it's a lot harder than it looks. Below: Olivia and I in front of a section of Old Town. 

Above: Tory and Olivia in front of Old Town. Below: A shot of the Charles Bridge from the island.

Above: Requisite solo shot of the buildings. Below: Tory practices her modeling skills.

Post-wandering, we decided to check out a different neighborhood of the city for dinner. We headed to Nové Město (New Town), where we stumbled upon a cozy restaurant with small-sized portions but absolutely delicious food. Post-dinner, we headed to a wine bar in the area that Olivia's friend recommended.

Above: Goose soup. It was actually really good! Below: Pork tenderloin wrapped in bacon with a potato-pea puree. I don't want to exaggerate, but I would say that this is one of the best meals I have ever had...ever. A+, Prague.

Above: Honey cake at the wine bar. One of the best desserts I have had while abroad (and you know what? It tasted just fine with the wine, despite what our waiter said). Below: That time I ordered a B-52 without knowing that it would be on fire...

Thursday brought our final day in Prague. Tory had to leave for the airport around 1pm, whereas Olivia and I had until midnight to catch our overnight train to Budapest. The three of us spent the morning lounging around the Old Town, where we picked up our train tickets, before saying goodbye and going our separate ways for the afternoon.

Above: We accidentally stumbled upon a former residence of Kafka...at the American Embassy? Below: Quaint streets and colorful houses.

Olivia and I then headed to Museum Kampa, a contemporary modern art museum near the John Lennon Wall. Some of the art was a bit...eccentric, to say the least (and this is coming from someone with a newfound appreciation for modern art). The museum did, however, have Klimt's Judith and the Head of Holofernes, which was, as to be expected, beautiful. Just my luck: no photos allowed, of course.

Above: A piece at the Museum Kampa. Below: Olivia and I split a huge potato pancake (with sauerkraut on top, I think?) for lunch.

Olivia and I spent the rest of our afternoon killing time and shopping before our train. We wandered more around Old Town, stopping briefly in the Salvador Dali exhibition gift shop, the street markets and even a huge four-story mall near Wenceslas Square. We grabbed dinner at nearby a vegetarian restaurant before heading back to the hostel to grab our stuff and head to the train.

Above: Vegetarian quesadillas for dinners (my first Mexican food in Europe!). Below: Tiramisu for dessert.

Since our train left at 12:01am, Olivia and I decided to head to the train station around 10:45pm to be safe. We trekked the twenty-minute walk from our hostel to the station (crossing a few major highways along the way...). After some minor confusion and some sketchy locations, we found our track and train. The steward directed us to our room, a small two-person cabin with just enough room for a bunk bed and our bags. Our neighbors included a bunch of rowdy middle-aged men (what?) and an older couple, but we kept to ourselves and went right to bed...after adjusting to the lurching motion of the train. In any case, the whole thing was quite the experience. Plus, the steward was so nice; he was a sweet old man who brought us breakfast, woke us up thirty minutes before we arrived in Budapest, and hurriedly would say, "Please wait for me to return with further information" literally every time he rushed by our cabin. But now I can say that I have been on an international train (and been through Slovakia, even though I slept the whole time...)!

Above: Meet our accommodations for the night! Closed quarters and bunk beds, my favorite...Below: Our washing area, complete with bottled water, a sink and fresh towels. The bathrooms/showers were located in a separate room down the hall, though neither of us braved the shower.

Budapest

Olivia and I arrived in Budapest around 9am, both of us bleary-eyed and tired from our night of train sleep. We first set off to find our hostel (Friend's Hostel) to drop off our stuff before further explorations! Quite side note: Budapest is actually the composition of three formerly-separate cities (Buda, Pest and Óbuda). Though the city is formally known as Budapest, the different parts of the city are sometimes referred to by their original names. So don't be surprised if I say something like "A nice view over Pest" or "Our hostel was in Buda" - it's kind of addicting to call refer to the city by the separate area names!

Our first stop post-hostel: Széchenyi Bath and Spa. Széchenyi is the largest medicinal bath in Europe, and its water is supplied by two thermal springs. The complex boasts of over ten separate baths, which were located both indoors and outdoors. Some were freezing, whereas others were nice and warm. It felt so good to just relax and enjoy the water for a few hours! I also experienced my first steam room (do not recommend) and sauna (do recommend).

Above: A shot of the outdoor baths at Széchenyi. Below: Olivia poses in front of the baths. She was smart and brought a bathing suit...I was dumb and did not. Good thing Hungary is a lot cheaper than Denmark; I rented a suit and towel from the baths for a really good price!

Above: Requisite solo picture, if only to prove that I was there. Below: Super pruned skin (sorry if that's gross, it was so pruned though!).

After the baths, we headed back toward central Budapest for some sightseeing. We walked along Andrássy Avenue, a famous fine dining and shopping street, before stumbling on to a small street market. We bought pizza slices and shopped a bit before checking out St. Stephen's Basilica, the Chain Bridge and Parliament.

Above: Hungarian pizza. Verdict? Delicious (big surprise). Below: St. Stephen's Basilica, the third largest basilica in Hungary (that makes it important, right?).

Above: A shot of what I assumed was Parliament and subsequently took one hundred gazillion pictures of. Turns out that it is actually Buda Castle, a complex of buildings that includes the palace of the Hungarian king and a bunch of museums. Still cool. Below: A majestic Parliament at night. Now this is what I expected eastern Europe to look like.

Above: Night shots of the Chain Bridge. Below: Me in front of the Chain Bridge. This photograph was probably taken around 5:30pm.

Olivia and I then headed back to the hostel, where we met up with Alison and Julie, who had arrived in Budapest the day before. The four us walked to Heroes' Square and City Park, the latter of which is filled with museums, churches and attractions. Because it was night-time, however, everything was closed/deserted. We creeped around there for a bit before grabbing dinner at a little hole-in-the-wall/family-owned restaurant on our way back to the hostel. Post-dinner, Alison, Julie and I headed to Szimpla, the first ruin pub in Budapest. It was super cool, though filled with tourists (and even some other DIS people).

Above: Heroes' Square, one of the largest squares in Budapest. The statues all represent different historical and political figures of Hungary. Below: A closer shot of some of the statues.

Above: Shot of the moon at an entrance to a museum in City Park. Below: Dinner of pork stew and a glass of a Hungarian wine known as Bull's Blood.

On Saturday, Olivia and I headed up to Castle Hill to check out the sights of Pest. To give our feet a rest, we took the tram up as far we could. Thinking we were at the top, we clambered off and wandered in search of our first destination...only to find a killer set of stairs still separated us from the top of the hill. Defeatedly, we climbed up, while three Hungarian athletes sprinted up the same set of stairs...embarrassing. 

Above: The dreaded staircase. Okay, this picture makes it look like a normal staircase. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I'm making it sound, but it wasn't not as bad as this picture makes it look. Below: Rooftop flowerpots and a residential area.

Finally at the top, Olivia and I started our sightseeing with a tour of Hospital in the Rock, a former secret emergency hospital and nuclear bunker. Housed in a stretch of interconnected caves, it was used extensively during WWII and the Cold War era. Going through the hospital/bunker-turned-museum was awesome; it was so interesting to see how the underground hospital and the bunker functioned during the wars, though I could have done without the human wax figures recreating every moment…

Above: No photos were allowed inside the hospital/bunker, so here's a picture of the museum's entrance. Below: Flowers outside the entrance.

From there, we headed over to Fisherman's Bastion, a terrace on Castle Hill overlooking Pest. The place was climbing with tourists snapping pictures in the beautiful weather. It was almost (dare I say it?)...hot outside, which I am definitely missing right now in Copenhagen.

Above: Some of the turrets of Fisherman's Bastion. Below: View of Budapest from one of the turrets. 

Above: A zoomed-up look at Pest, including St. Stephen's Basilica. Below: Me in front of Parliament. 

Above: Another look at the architecture of the Bastion itself. Below: Olivia and I in front of Parliament. It was so bright!

I then took a quick solo tour of Matthias Church, a Roman Catholic church located in front of Fisherman's Bastion. From there, Olivia and I grabbed a quick lunch at a nearby restaurant (aka a tourist trap). At least the food was good!

Above: The exterior of Matthias Church. Below: Stained glass inside the church.

Above: Main entrance of the church. Below: Stew for lunch. Seriously, I am in love with those noodle things. Just don't ask me what they're called, I have literally no idea.

Post-lunch, we took a leisurely stroll around the Buda Castle and other sights on Castle Hill. The sun was just starting to set (meaning it was around 3:30pm), which made everything look especially beautiful. 

Above: Random statue and an afternoon sunset. Below: Tower at the Buda Castle. 

Above: More sunset action. Below: A shot of some of the buildings that make up the castle.

Above: Hungarian flags. Below: A look at the beautiful construction cranes of Buda. See that figure in the far distance on the right? We (incorrectly) assumed that the statue was the Citadella and decided to find a way to get there. 

Olivia and I then dedicated the next part of our afternoon to getting to what we assumed was the Citadella. TripAdvisor had said that the Citadella was a "must-see" for Budapest, as it offers beautiful views over both sides of the city. Plus, I thought it would be particularly beautiful to be there at sunset. Two hours later...well, not actually two hours. We ran into a bit of trouble trying to figure out transportation to the top, which resulted in us taking two city buses and a tram. We finally got there, took a plethora of pictures and enjoyed the scene of Budapest at night.

Above: The Liberty Statue, or what I thought the word "Citadella" meant. I found out later that the Citadella is actually the fortress behind the statue; you have to pay to climb it, but at the top you can see a panorama of the city. Oops...we still had a good view (for free!). Below: A view of the Liberty Bridge (foreground) and Chain Bridge.

Above: Budapest at night. Below: Moon peaking through the trees. Once again, it was barely 6pm.

After navigating our way back down to the city, Olivia and I took a leisurely stroll across the Liberty Bridge and headed to the Grand Central Market Hall...only to find that it was closed for the day. We compensated with a walk down the pedestrian shopping street Váci and stopping for some Hungarian desserts. Afterwards, we headed back to the hostel to meet up with Alison and Julie for dinner and a quiet night in before an early flight in the morning back to Copenhagen. 

Above: Liberty Bridge, one of the many bridges that link Buda and Pest. Below: Flodni, a traditional Hungarian Jewish cake. The layers include (from the bottom up) poppy seed, apple, walnut and jam.

And scene

Let me just preface this by saying that European 7-Elevens are the antithesis of American ones.

For one, 7-Eleven is Europe is cool. Unlike in the United States, everyone and anyone shops there. The food is good, quick and cheap - perfect for a  snack for the commute home. Secondly, they are everywhere. I pass three 7-Elevens on my way to school, and I've seen one in nearly every European country I've visited thus far. Finally, 7-Eleven is the perfect place to take refuge while you're waiting for the bus home at 3am on a Saturday night. You can meet people to talk to, stand around inside to soak up the free heat, and buy unnecessary baby bites (c'mon, they're only $2...). 

In any case, if you're from the States, you probably know that 7-Eleven has an annual free slushie day...on 7/11. Fun fact: in Europe, 7-Eleven has a free coffee day...also on 7/11. Which also happened to be yesterday.

Get it?

In case you didn't: Americans write the date as MONTH/DAY/YEAR, whereas the European format is DAY/MONTH/YEAR. Cross-cultural differences at their finest...

With my friends at home all posting pictures from their Halloweekends (I miss you guys!), I thought it was about time for a post about my first Danish holiday.

The first friday in November is a holiday in Denmark: J-Day. What does the J stand for, you ask? Julebryg (translation: Christmas Brew). I know what you're thinking...merry Christmas Brew Day?

In a word: yes. On J-Day, the Danish brewery Carlsberg releases their seasonal "Christmas beer." Brewery employees dress up in Santa suits and drive around to bars to hand out free beers and merchandise (hilarious). There is a lot of caroling and cheering and general tomfoolery, and it's awesome. Denmark would have a holiday to celebrate a beer...

At 5.6% alcohol (one whole percent stronger than normal Carlsberg and Tuborg), the beer is a strong pilsner. Carlsberg advertises the taste to be "dark-golden with a fresh aroma of caramel, grain, liquorice and blackcurrant," but I say a beer is a beer is a beer - albeit a good one!

(Photos courtesy of Julie and Cedar)

Ten days. Three major European capital cities. One college-student budget. The result? The longest Tumblr post known to mankind. 

Paris

Who: I met up with Kate, and we did sightseeing together for three days. Because of our flight schedules, I had half a day to myself in the city before departing to Berlin.

When: Arrived late Friday night, left Tuesday morning (3 full days).

Where: Most of the hostels in Paris are over-priced and far away from the city centre. Rather than splurge on a dorm in a hostel, Kate and I split the cost of an apartment from Airbnb. If you're looking for a place to stay in Paris, I would highly recommend this option; our apartment was located in the swanky area of Rue de Rivoli and within walking distance to Notre-Dame, the Louvre and Hôtel de Ville. The only slight drawback to our housing arrangement was the fact that it was a bit...pink. Due to our procrastination, the only reasonably-priced apartment available was a "romantic get-away" in the center of Paris, complete with a fluffy pink bedspread, a queen-sized bed and a complimentary guitar for the musically-inclined. Regardless, the value for the money and the location was hard to beat! After Kate left, I spent my last "night" (if you can call four and a half hours a night) at St. Christopher's Hostel near Gare de Nord. It was a bit further out of the city, but it was a cheaper option for my last few hours of sleep in Paris.

What: What didn't we do in Paris? From the typical sights to daily baguettes and camembert cheese for breakfast, Kate and I did it all: the Eiffel Tower, Versailles, the Lourvre, Musée d'Orsay, Pompidou Center, Champs-Élysées, Arc de Triomphe, Montmartre, Sacré-Cœur, Tuileries Garden and so much more. Read on for a more detailed account and photos.

Above: A snapshot of the one-bedroom apartment we rented from Airbnb. The literal "water closet" is in the background, whereas the kitchenette, sink and shower are located behind me. Below: A shot of the water show at Hôtel de Ville (City Hall), which was literally located right across the street from our apartment.

We started Saturday morning with an ambitious task: Versailles. Because the palace is a bit outside of Paris itself, we needed to take a regional train to get there. After buying the appropriate tickets (or so we thought), we attempted to get on the right train...only to find that the train to Versailles was not running. Hm. We deduced from a map that the normal train route was under construction and that we needed to take a different train and a replacement bus, after which we would have to walk another fifteen minutes to get to the château. Despite these minor complications, we arrived at the palace to find the BEST NEWS EVER. If you're between the ages of 18-26 (which I am) and are a citizen of the EU (which I technically am not BUT I HAVE A DANISH RESIDENCE CARD which counts as proof of citizenship!), you can get in to all of the museums and many of the historical sights in Paris for free. Yes, that's what I said - for. free. In a city as expensive as Paris, this was a godsend. 

With free entry thanks to our Danish residence cards, Kate and I took a brief tour of the palace and the gardens. Unfortunately, because it was Saturday and there was a  special "water show" going on, entry to the gardens was not free. In fact, it was an absurd amount to pay, but you only go to Versailles once...right? 

Above: Me in front of the classic golden gate of Versailles. After Kate took this picture, we each spent the next fifteen minutes taking pictures of other tourists for them. Below: The front of the château.

Above and below: Keeping up my trend of Europe's fanciest ceilings.

Above and below: The Hall of Mirrors.

Above: A shot of the gardens from inside the château. Below: A shot of the gardens from inside the gardens. I believe they extend for three miles beyond this...needless to say, Kate and I didn't take a tour of them in their entirety.

After navigating our way back to the city, Kate and I headed to Musée d'Orsay, an art museum that is housed in a former train station. My friend Sarah had recommended the museum to me, and it did not disappoint; the Musée d'Orsay houses the largest collection of impressionist and post-impressionist piece in the world. From Monet to Degas, Renior, Van Gogh, Manet, Cézanne and more - the entire collection was absolutely breathtaking. Unfortunately, no photos of the pieces were allowed, but I did sneak a few pictures of the building itself.

Above: The main hall of Musée d'Orsay. Below: Behind the museum's famous clock. 

After grabbing lunch (my first crêpe experience! Seriously, why can't America have street food as nice as this?), Kate and I took on the ultimate tourist sight of Paris/arguably the world: the Eiffel Tower. Of course, the lines were ridiculously long, but we opted for the much shorter line (and cheaper option!) at the stairs. You can only take the stairs up the first two levels of the tower (710 stairs in total!); after the second floor, you have to buy a separate elevator ticket to take you to the very top. Despite my fear of heights, we went all the way to the top; needless to say, the view was incredible. All in all, we spent about three hours at the tower, and I took about a gazillion pictures (evidence below).

Get ready for "Kate Does the Eiffel Tower: A Photo Sequence." Photo one (above): Kate takes the first step. Below: My photo of first stair-steppin'. I think the security guard behind us thought we were really crazy to be taking these pictures...

Above: One level down, one more staircase to go! Below: We made it to the second level! It was a tad windy (note hair).

Above: The working wheels of the elevator pulley-system. Below: The infrastructure of the tower.

Above: A glimpse of the view from behind the gate on the second floor. Be patient; the best photos come last! Below: Final photo in the Kate sequence; we're on our way up in the elevator!

Above and below: Bonjour, Paris! The view from two opposite sides of the top of the tower.

Above: Terrified but so happy to have gone all the way to the top! Below: Kate and I at the top.

Above: Surprise! I ran into my friend Ashley from DIS at the top of the Eiffel Tower! How does that even happen? It's a small world...Below: One last picture together before heading back down.

Above: Classic picture of the tower's silhouette. Below: Classic solo picture with the Eiffel Tower.

After taking the elevator down (no way was I doing the stairs again), we headed to the nearby Rue Cler neighborhood for a night of authentic Parisian dining and shopping. The main avenue of the neighborhood is lined with open-air stands, restaurants and shops that sell anything from wine to dessert. Dinner included duck, lamb chops and crêpes with ice cream for dessert. Post-dinner, I bought a bottle of wine, and we went back and sat in front of the illuminated Eiffel Tower in awe. Is it strange to call a tower beautiful?

Above: Lamb chop dinner. Below: Crêpes with Nutella ice cream. Definitely one of my favorite foods of the semester.

Above: Night-time Eiffel Tower. At 9:00pm, the tower literally sparkles with a brief light show. Below: Upwards shot of the tower.

To cap off our busy Saturday, we took a night-time boat cruise (yes, we're extreme tourists) on the Seine. We passed some of Paris's most famous sights from the water, including, of course, the famed Eiffel Tower. Below: View of the tour from our boat cruise.

On Sunday, Kate and I braved one of the most crowded tourist traps of all: the Louvre. To be honest, the Louvre was not my favorite. Yes, the building and art that it houses are both magnificently impressive; but it simply isn't my favorite style of art. I much preferred the collection at Musée d'Orsay. We spent about an hour and a half browsing the Louvre's collections before calling it quits, but not before braving the crowds at Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa. Conn kid that I am, I wanted to see Winged Victory...but the part of the museum that holds the statue was under construction. Louvre: 1, Jordan: 0.

Above: Me posing in front of the pyramid entrance. Thanks to Rick Steves, we avoided the long lines here by using the secret underground mall entrance. Below: The staircase descending into the museum from the pyramid entrance.

Above: Venus de Milo. I'm surprised no tourists made it into this picture...Below: My view of the Mona Lisa about 99.5% of the time. Yes, she is small, and yes, the crowd of tourists wrestling to take a picture of or with her is obscene. 

Above: Kate vies for position among the ruthless crowd. This picture just about sums up the struggle that is seeing the Mona Lisa. Below: The result of my face-to-face time with Mona. About two seconds after this picture was taken, a women shoved me out of the way so she could take my spot. Reason #43 why I didn't particularly care for the Louvre...

Post-Louvre, we headed to the Arc de Triomphe. Again, entrance was free (thanks Denmark!), and we got to climb to the top. The top offered a beautiful vantage point of the famous shopping avenue Champ-Élysées (more on that later).

Above: Shot of the Arc de Triomphe. It took Kate and I a solid ten minutes to figure out you get to the structure via underground tunnel rather than trying to cross the death-trap that is the traffic roundabout. Below: Shot of the pillar carvings inside.

Above: 284 steps later...and an awesome view of the Champ-Élysées (the avenue on the right). Below: View of Paris's hilltop community Montmartre (more details on that below).

Above: View of the Eiffel Tower from the top of the Arc de Triomphe. Below: One last look at the Champs-Élysées before heading down it ourselves.

The Champ-Éysées is Paris' busiest avenue; it's chock-full of bakeries, restaurants and high-class stores. At one end of the avenue is the Arc de Triomphe; at the opposite end is Tuileries Garden (more on that later). Kate and I spent our afternoon strolling down the avenue in search of lunch and desserts; of course, Paris did not disappoint.

Above: Lunch of crêpes. Below: And dessert of...macarons, of course! A shot of macarons at Ladurée, a world-famous French bakery.

Above: Kate poses on Champs-Élysées with newly-purchased macaroons. The Arc de Triomphe is in the far distance. Below: My eight macarons that cost far more than I would like to admit...worth it? Yes.

Flavours (above and below from left to right) included pistachio, chocolate and coconut, lemon, Columbian chocolate, strawberry candy, salted caramel, vanilla and chocolate.

Kate and I then headed to Notre-Dame. Thanks to this semester, I have seen a lot of cathedrals, but the grandeur of Notre-Dame is unbeatable. Normally, tourists can climb up the tower for a view of Paris and a closer look at the cathedral's world-famous gargoyles. Unfortunately for Kate and I, the tower was "on strike" when we were in Paris. No one could really specify who was on strike, but it makes for a funny story. Plus, I'm not sure if my feet could have handled another 400 stairs... 

Above: The western facade of Notre-Dame. Below: A closer look at the exterior carvings. This photograph does not even begin to do justice to how magnificently intricate the details are...

Above and below: The interior of Notre-Dame.

As Kate and I were strolling around the back of Notre-Dame, we stumbled on the one sight in Paris I had told myself I had to see: Pont de l'Archevêché, alternatively known as the "Love Lock" bridge. I have wanted to see this bridge for over three years; I think it's absolutely beautiful, and the photographic possibilities are endless. Yes, it's a bit of a cheesy idea: Couples come to the bridge and place a lock on it together, then throw the key into the Seine. Both sides of the bridge are completely full of locked locks; people have even begun to lock their locks to other locks. How many more times can I say locks in this post?

Above: A section of the bridge. Below: My new favorite place; Notre-Dame is in the background.

Above: The Paris lock was one of the more common locks to be found on the bridge. Below: An up-close shot of some of the locks; the Seine is in the background.

Above: In case you couldn't tell, this is my new favorite place to take pictures (sorry, Nyhavn!). Below: Kate lives the Parisian life; what could be better than eating macarons on a bridge in Paris? This is basically the same question some random Parisian man asked her as she was sitting there...

Above: Have I mentioned that I am in love with this bridge? So much so that I spent over two hours here across two days. Below: Kate and I with Notre-Dame in the background. Fun fact: The woman who took this picture also took our picture on the Eiffel Tower the day before. Again, small world...

On Monday, Kate and I rode out to Montmartre, the artist community of Paris. The area is filled with cute shops and cafés, as well as souvenir stores exploiting the area's connection to Moulin Rouge. The neighborhood is on Paris's only hill, the top of which is graced with the picturesque Basilica of the Sacré Cœur. 

Above: The Sacré-Cœur. Below: Pigeons in Europe are crazy. Not pictured: The one hundred millions salespeople that tried to sell Kate and I plastic Eiffel Towers, friendship bracelets, etc.

Above: My first (and sadly, only) French croissant! Below: A snapshot of the market area in Montmartre. In this area, artists with clipboards will often approach you and begin to draw your profile...only to charge you for the final product when they're finished. An artist has got to make a living, right? 

Above: A shot of Paris from the top of Montmartre. Below: Me posing in front of Paris.

From Montmartre, we made our way to Sainte-Chapelle, a medieval gothic chapel famous for its beautiful stained glass. The stained glass was absolutely breathtaking. Exhibit A:

Above: The main alter in the chapel. My camera had trouble processing the light shining through the glass, but you get the idea. Below: A closer look at the stained glass.

After Sainte-Chapelle, Kate had to run to catch her flight. I spent the rest of the evening adventuring on my own, beginning with a walk through the beautiful garden Tuileries. I then headed to my final sight of Paris: the Pompidou Center, a modern art museum with an architectural design as cool as the art itself.

Above: Art installation at Tuileries. Below: Soft light and tree-lined avenues at Tuileries.

Above: Some beautiful flowers in the garden; the Louvre is in the background. Below: Parisians enjoying the wonderful weather (seriously, the weather was absolutely gorgeous; lucky us!).

Above: The outside of Center Pompidou. The tube-like structure snaking up the side of the building is an escalator (see below). On the top floor, you have an awesome view of Paris.

Above: View over central Paris from the top of the Pompidou. Below: View of the Eiffel Tower from the top floor.

Above: View of Montmarte and Sacré-Cœur from the Pompidou. Below: The view from the top floor a little after dusk.

Above: The first piece in the contemporary art exhibition. Below: Getting colorful. Don't ask me what it means, I just like it.

Above: A variety of French synonyms for the word "cunt." Below: A bunch of pantyhose stitched together and weighed down with seeds. 

After grabbing dinner, I headed back to the hostel for some "sleep." I got up at 4:30am to catch an 8:45am flight to take me to Berlin.

Berlin

Who: Me, myself and I. I've wanted to go to Berlin for a while now; I'm German by descent, and I've always wondered if I would feel any type of connection to my heritage. I took this trip solo, and though I at first felt unsure about traveling alone, I can't recommend the experience enough. 

When: Tuesday morning - Thursday night (3 full days).

Where: I stayed in an all-female dorm at Generator Hostel Mitte in the hip neighborhood of Mitte in Berlin. The hostel was awesome; it was safe, cool and close to a bunch of awesome bars and restaurants. It also happened to be located on Oranienburger Straße, Berlin's main drag for prostitutes. Apparently prostitution is legal in Germany? Oops...

What: Unlike Paris, Berlin focuses much more on history and its impact rather than tourism. That being said, it's still a tourist-y city. While I was there, I saw Brandenburg Tor, Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, Berliner Dom, Kulturforum, Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe, Topography of Terror and more. Details and photos below.

Above: Brandenburg Tor (or Brandenburg Gate), a landmark of Germany. Below: A classic meal of currywurst and pommes fritas. This meal cost me about $3 less than lunch in Paris...

Thanks to advice from my friend Josh, I started my trip in Berlin off with a Sandeman's free walking tour. The tour was awesome; my guide was extremely knowledgable about the history of Berlin, and hearing the stories behind the sights helped me contextualize the city and its culture. I'd highly recommend the walking tour to anyone interested in visiting in Berlin; it also inspired me to re-visit certain sights, as well as gave me the historical perspective you need in order to truly understand the city.

Above: The first "sight" on my walking tour. Apparently, this is the hotel balcony over which Michael Jackson infamously dangled his son. Good to know that Berlin tour guides have their priorities in order...Below: The nonexistent Hitler's Bunker. The city of Berlin decided not to mark the land for fear of creating a memorial to the dictator, hence the grassy area and parking lot.

Above: Socialist propaganda. Below: An over-commercialized Checkpoint Charlie (the crossing point between East and West Berlin during the Cold War). The original gatehouse and actual memorabilia can be found at the Checkpoint Charlie Museum; these guys just stand here for tourism's sake.

Above: My first glimpse of the Berlin Wall. There are three sections of the wall still standing; this section is located close to Brandenburg Tor, whereas the other two are located in different areas of the city. I made sure to visit all three. Below: Another photograph of this section of the wall.

After the tour, I made my way back to one of the more powerful stops on the trip: the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, alternatively known as the Holocaust Memorial. I spent quite a bit of time there, wandering amongst the heavy slabs of concrete. I took endless photos, lost in thought and mesmerized by the scene of over 2,100 of these rectangles surrounding me. 

There is no correct interpretation of the memorial. The further you walk in, however, the more the ground dips below your feet; the blocks appears taller, and you feel as if you are drowning. I also visited the museum underneath the memorial (see below).

On Wednesday, I started my morning with a visit to another standing section of the Berlin Wall and the Berlin Wall Memorial. In addition to the wall itself, the memorial area features a documentation center, photos of those deceased and information booths. Seeing holes that had been shot into the wall was powerful, as was seeing the photographs of those who had been killed trying to cross. Too often, I think we forget that Germany has had her own horrors, too.

Above: Old poles formerly inside the Berlin Wall. Below: Flowers on a grave in front of a remaining section of the wall.

Above: Graffiti near the wall. Below: A small tree-lined cemetery near the memorial.

I then made my way over to the final (and most famous) section of the Berlin Wall: the picturesque and graffitied East Side Gallery. Here are a few of my favorites scenes from the gallery:

After walking down the entire wall and back (1.3 km one-way), I stopped at a local place called Scheers Schnitzel for some cheap lunch. I don't know who I'm kidding; this entire semester is one big food tour.

Above: Schnitzel and kartoffelsalat. I really am going to miss schnitzel...Below: Cake from Café Einstein. Berlin likes to emphasize its connection to Einstein with cheesy coffee shops.

Because Berlin is a big city, I then took the advice of WikiTravel and took a tour of the city via public transit. Bus 100 is a double-decker bus that travels from one edge of the city to the other. Of course, I snagged a seat on the top for the best view of the sights. I also dedicated part of my Wednesday to a Picasso exhibition at Kulturforum, a cluster of museums in Berlin. Though I am glad I went to the Picasso exhibit, a lot of the art museums in Berlin were not really my style. What did intrigue me, however, were the city's history museums. Unlike in Copenhagen, museums are all open very late in Berlin. Many of the historical museums are also free; it's as if Germany wants to educate as many people as possible about its past, regardless of their age, budget or schedule. 

I myself dedicated Wednesday night to a visit to the Typography of Terror museum/documentation center. The center is located on the grounds of the former headquarters of the Gestapo; in fact, bricks of these Nazi institutions still remain. The documentation center chronicles Germany's role in WWII and showcases propaganda, memorabilia and historical documents from the time period. While I was there, I saw at least five separate school groups of German kids hearing lectures from the center's workers. Once again, it seems like the Germans want to educate others as much as possible about their history.

Above: The remains of the former headquarters of the Gestapo. This is part of the Typography of Terror museum. Below: Brandenburg Tor at night. 

Above: The Reichstag, or Parliament building. See that glass dome thing in the back? You can actually go up inside it and see a great view of Berlin...for free. The only problem is that you have to book tickets in advance. By the time I got to Berlin, all the tickets for the entire week were sold out! Below: One of my favorite graffiti pieces near my hostel in the Mitte district.

On Thursday, I woke up early to check out from the hostel and store my stuff in the luggage room before my last few explorations. I was moseying my way down Oranienburger Straße when a man stopped me to ask for directions. We got to chatting, and I gathered quite quickly that my new friend Björn (can you tell he's Norwegian?) was still a bit drunk from the night before. He disclosed that he was about an hour late for his company meeting, that he and his wife were going through a separation and that he hadn't been to Berlin since he was seventeen...fifteen years ago (yes, math is a thing, he's thirty-two).

After some walking and talking, he dropped the bomb: "So, could I buy you breakfast or lunch or whatever meal it is right now?" I politely declined, but Björn decided to play unofficial tour guide and point out the nearby sights, most of which I already knew. He actually did have some interesting things to say about architecture and statues, although there was one weird point when he called me one of the "good USAsians." Apparently, many of the "USAsians" Björn has met are not so nice...Anyway, after about another half an hour, I shook him off by heading to the Berliner Dom, a cathedral which apparently did not interest Björn so much as heading toward central Berlin did. We said our goodbyes, and I headed inside Berlin's cathedral.

Above: The backside of the Berliner Dom. Below: The alter inside the cathedral.

Above: A wider shot of the interior of the cathedral. Below: The view from the walkway at the top. 

Above: Proof that I ascended to such heights all by myself! My first time on a tall structure without the coaxing of my friends needed documentation. Below: The walkway provided a nice view of central Berlin...as well as the never-ending construction that seems to be everywhere in Europe.

Above and below: Crypts inside the cathedral basement. I was definitely not expecting to see these, so walking in on them was a surprise/terrifying.

I spent the rest of my last hours in the city wandering, enjoying and exploring. A few photos:

Above: Old meets new in Berlin. In the foreground is Marienkirche; in the background is the TV tower, known as Berliner Fernsehturm. No, I did not go up it; I'm not that brave! Plus, it cost 13 Euro. Below: A snapshot of KaDeWe, a famous department store in Berlin.

Above: Front of the International Auschwitz Committee statute. Below: Back side of the statue.

Above: Another shot of Brandenburg Tor. Seriously, the Germans love Brandenburg; the image of the gate even decorates the outside of the subway cars (below).

Above and below: Scenes from different areas in Tiergarten, a large garden located in central Berlin.

Above: Siegessäule (Victory Column), a statue located in the middle of Tiergarten. Below: A graffiti of Anne Frank located outside the Anne Frank Center, a mini-museum of Anne Frank's history. One of my favorite museums from the trip.

Above and below: Berliners are proud of their little walking signal-people with hats.

I then headed to the airport at around 6pm for my 9pm flight. Let me tell you: Flying at the end of a day of sightseeing is way better than flying in early in the morning before sightseeing. And then I was off to London...

London

Who: I met up with my friend Ellie from my home school, my friend Michael from DIS and Tory's sister Abby, who lives there.

When: Arrived late Thursday night and left early Sunday morning (2 full days).

Where: I crashed with Abby in her flat on Abbey Road. She literally lived one block away from the Abbey Road crosswalk. 

What: Again, London was jam-packed. I saw Trafalger Square, Harrod's, London Eye, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, Tower Bridge, London Bridge, Somerset House, Abbey Road, Hyde Park, King's Cross Station and Platform 9 3/4 and more. By "saw," however, I literally mean just saw. With only two days in the city, I had to be picky.

Above: An example of how London handles tourists failing to look the right way before crossing the street. Below: A shot across the Thames of the London Eye and Big Ben.

On Friday, I took Abby's advice and took a tour of London via the 139 bus; it literally picks you up right in front of her flat and takes you through the main areas of the city before dropping you off at Waterloo Bridge. All of the buses in London are the classic red double-deckers; of course, I stole the exact front seat. It took literally all of two seconds for me to feel nausea at the sight of cars coming from the opposite direction. England problems...

Later in the day, I met up with Ellie, and we went to Westminster Abbey. Unfortunately, we got there after the church had closed, so we did not get a chance to go inside. Plus, the admission fee was 20 pounds (about 32 dollars)! The architecture is beautiful though...

Above: One of the front faces of Westminster Abbey. Below: A wide-angle shot to document just how large the church is.

With the rest of our afternoon unexpectedly free, we walked by Big Ben and did the London Eye, a giant ferris wheel that offers beautiful views of the city. We also stopped by to see Buckingham Palace before grabbing classic dinner at an English pub.

Above: Me in front of Big Ben. Below: From New London to London - Ellie and I in front of the Thames River. 

Above: A shot of the London Eye and its orb-like gondola-things. Below: One of the most expensive city views I have ever paid for...but it's beautiful, no?

Above: Another shot over London from the Eye. Below: Ellie and I get our tourist on in a classic telephone booth pose.

Above: Ellie consults her phone's map. We're lost, as usual for my travels in European cities. Below: A front shot of Buckingham Palace.

Above: A shot of the Victoria Memorial and Buckingham Palace. Below: Authentic fish and chips from an English pub! Major goal of the trip achieved.

Later on in the night, I met up with Abby at Convent Garden. We had a few drinks together before heading back to her flat, where I managed to get my crossing Abbey Road picture without any tourists. Jordan, 1; London, 0.

Above: My classic "crossing Abbey Road" picture, taken circa 2am. Below: My signature on Abbey Road, signed about eight hours later (note the daylight). Lesson learned: Avoid tourist traps by doing things like Abbey Road in the middle of the night. There were significantly more people trying to cross the famous crosswalk at 10am than at 2am...

On Saturday morning, I traipsed around a bit by myself before meeting up with Abby again in the afternoon. I saw the Tower of London, London Bridge and Tower Bridge. Many people confuse the latter with London Bridge; Tower Bridge is certainly more iconic, but the real London Bridge is pretty plain-looking. In the afternoon, I met up with Abby at Somerset House, a beautiful arts and culture building in central London. Lucky her; she actually get to go to school there.

From there, Abby and I went to Harrods, which was absolutely chaotic. The place was packed with people pushing their way through the rooms and common spaces. I'm glad I went because it's one of those "you gotta do it" things, but I don't have any desire to go back. Abby and I then took a  brief stroll through a section of Hyde Park.

Above and below: Tower of London. 

Above: A shot of Tower Bridge from London Bridge. Below: A shot of Tower Bridge from on the bridge.

Above and below: Different perspectives on Tower Bridge. I like the contrast between the modern blue and white and the brown tower.

Above: A shot of the anticlimactic London Bridge. Below: A shot of Somerset House. In the wintertime, they put an ice rink up in front of the entrance, though they only had put up the SKATE letters when I was there.

Above: Harrods, a classy department store in London. Again, not my favorite London sight...Below: A scene in Hyde Park.

In the evening, I met up with my friend Michael from DIS and his friend for dinner. I then capped off the night for a visit to King's Cross Station and a few other night-time photographs before heading back to Abbey Road. There, Abby and I got froyo and watched Sherlock Holmes (classic) before I headed to bed due to an early-morning flight.

Above: Platform 9 and 3/4 in all its glory. The scene is obviously a huge tourist sight; they give you a scarf and wand and will take your picture "running" into the wall. Again, I avoided the tourists by checking out the platform late at night - lesson learned. Below: The ceiling at King's Cross Station.

Above: A shot of the entrance to Selfridges, a high-end department store in the city. Below: Trafalger Square at night. Apparently that blue rooster is part of a temporary art exhibition.

Above and below: Shots of the signs for the Tube, London's metro system.

Then, here's the kicker: The only affordable flight home from London was at 8am on Sunday morning. Knowing that I had to be at the airport at 6am, Abby and I made sure I knew how to get to the right night bus that would take me to the express train to the airport. I purchased my train tickets in advance and made sure I had enough money for a one-way bus ride. It takes about an hour in total to get from Abby's flat to the Gatwick Airport; the express train part of the trip only takes about half-an-hour and it leaves every half hour on the half hour, whereas the bus from Abby's neighborhood to Victoria Station takes about twenty-ish minutes.

With all of this in mind, I got up at 4:30am to catch the 5:05am bus from Abby's neighborhood to Victoria Station. All went smoothly until I got to the station and was approached by a Slovakian woman. She asked me for money, citing the fact that she did not have enough pounds to pay for a ticket for the 4:30am train to the airport and that she would miss her flight unless she caught this train. Out loud, I apologized that I could not give her any money, but in my head I was thinking, "Wow, she's late already, it's 5:30am, not 4:30am." With that, I walked inside the station to find a giant electronic billboard in front of me: "October 27th - 4:28 AM."

...Happy Daylight Savings Time.

For a few moments, my mind could not even begin to comprehend the fact that I had been awake since 3:30am and that I would now be an hour early for my 8am flight. Dejected, I headed toward the track for my train when a British family approached me and asked, "Why aren't the trains to the airport running?"

First of all, how the heck would I know? Secondly, the trains to the airport were apparently not running, which made the situation even more dire/hilarious. We ended up finding some employees who directed us to a replacement bus to the airport. Of course, we had missed the 4:30am departure by this point, but we got first choice of seats on the next bus at 5am (which was lucky for me, as some people had to stay behind because the bus was full). The real cherry on top of this story, however, is the fact that it while it takes a half an hour to the airport by train, it takes exactly an hour to drive to the airport. Despite my 3:30am wake-up and the Daylight Savings Time confusion, I got to the airport at exactly the time I was supposed to get there: 6am. All's well that ends well, right?

And we're back