May 27th- Krakow, Poland

We are on a train headed to Krakow now.  This morning was early again after a late night last night. We got breakfast at the hostel. Unimpressive and the milk was warm which was not comforting. Cybil caught her napkin on fire and that really started the day with a bang. Katelyn had to throw water on all of cybils food to put the fire out. Napkin fire tip 1: DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BLOW ON THE NAPKIN WHILE IT IS BURNING. IT WILL CONTINUE TO BURN BRIGHTER. Lesson learned. 

We are going to check in and grab some lunch when we arrive and then try to do a walking tour by Rick Steves. Catch yall later. 

Okay so I am back a day later. Here is how the rest of yesterday went: walked to the Old Town Krakow for lunch at the CUTEST cafe. 

While it was the cutest, I also want to address something that happens here and everywhere in Europe that doesn't happen in the states. PDA. Like we are literally eating lunch and there is a couple on the couch making out, feeling each other up, she is on his lap. It was uncomfortable. We have seen it before in Museums and churches and everywhere under the sun and I still can't become more accustomed to it. I know we Americans may be prudish but honestly those intimate moments are meant for intimate arenas in my mind. Maybe I am crazy. 

We didn't end up doing the walking tour because we were all plain exhausted so we strolled around the Main Market Square in the Old Town and headed back to the hostel to chill out and prepare for our big day tomorrow. We booked tickets for Auschwitz and the Salt Mines in one day. That is 12 hours of go time. Woah. 

Let me talk about this hostel for a minute. IT IS AMAZING. I don't know what kind of bad rap was previously given to hostels but they are untrue. At least in Europe, where we have traveled. We are getting these places cheap and all that but they are so nice. The people working are some of the kindest people I have encountered in these cities. Tom and Greg Hostel is where we are staying now and they are amazing. First of all, our room is a 4 bed private and it is really big! We do share a bathroom with 8 other people but it is really clean. With those 8 other people we also share a balcony, a kitchen,  common room with tv and dvd, and a computer room/ lobby. It is huge and so clean. They clean our rooms everyday and provide us with free family style breakfast and dinner. On top of that they offer DVDs to check out, tickets and tours for the city, pub crawls and free beer tasting everyday. The people working in reception are so well informed and very willing to help in everyway they can. The community at this hostel is great and makes for a better travel experience. We have already met people from France, Denmark, Kentucky and England. 

After a delicious Polish dinner, Katelyn and I watched Shrek (classic) in the common room upstairs. Early to bed, early to rise.

May 28th- Auschwitz and Salt Mines, Poland

I don't have anything to say on the outside but on the inside thousands of words are rushing through my head. I can't imagine it. I can't imagine a world where this cruelty and inhumanity exist on a scale of this magnitude. I am disgusted. I have a fire in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to hurt the people who did this. Fight fire with fire. I admire the strength of the prisoners. To live in those conditions and try to fight through it. I am insired by the prisoners' hope- hope that they would make it through; hope that they would be reunited with their families; hope that they really were going to bathe and not actuallu going to the gas chambers. We learned that the camp was an addition to a military base and that prisoners were kept in barracks where there were 9+ people to each bunk. There were 1000 prisoners kept in each dorm where there was only room for around 30 to clean or relieve themselves in the 15 minutes allotted. Impossible, subjecting prisoners to disease and hygiene deficiencies.  Their meals were meager and provided them maybe 500 calories a day. There were in fact 3 hospital building but surviving prisoners said that victims who went in, never came back out. There was also a building where women were used as test subjects for advancements in medical technology. Next to that was an execution wall where prisoners were lined up and shot point blank. Grotesquely disgusting. Walking up and down the streets the prisoners walked was tough. Trying to put mysef there or put myself in that time was difficult. I will never be able to imagine what these people had to live. Knowing that they wouldn't make it out alive. Knowing that everyday they walked those paths could be their last; probably wishing it was their last. I can't image their hope that it would get better. In the last remaining gas chamber at Auschwitz and Birkenau you could see the endless nail markings in the concrete walls where people grasped for salvation with their last breath. I could almost hear the cries in this dark cemetery reverberating off of each wall as the gas poured into the crowded chamber. I lost it. 

The survivors of the camps refer to the camps as cemeteries and I felt the chill of lost souls there as we made our way through. My surprise came at the others on our tour who either didn't feel this or didn't regard that others may. There was an inordinate amount of disrespect from other tourists. There was a particular family who was laughing the entire tour of Auschwitz and Birkenau. They were speaking loudly in rooms where silence was requested and reverence was expected. They were snaking their arms around each other and kissing and touching their partners asses. Like are you kidding me? I wanted to reach around and thump the shit out of their ears. How embarrassing. Do you not understand where you are? Do you understand that the people imprisoned here never got to laugh? To smile? To LIVE again? Take the time to wrap your small brains around that please. 

Auschwitz had 5 crematoriums which some have been destroyed because ss wanted to cover their full actions up before the liberation. When allied forces came in they found 3 buildings still in tact and plans for construction,  leaving them able to figure out on what scale this horrific genocide was taking place. 

We went to Birkenau after and toured the grounds. This camps was built from the ground up by the prisoners and was almost completely destroyed before the Germans retreated in late 1944. There is a memorial standing where 2 gas chambers once stood. 

We bused back to Krakow to grab some (no such thing as) free lunch and then got back on the bus to head towards the salt mines. Soaked. It was pouring. I forgot to mention that. The mood picked up a little but I am still thoughful about this mornings events. 

Kopalnia Soli Wieliczka is the name of the oldest constantly producing salt mine in the world. There are over 250 miles of tunnel going down over 1000 feet. There are 3 trains underground used to transport salt and workers, but a lot of transport was done by cart pushing and horses in the old days of record salt production. The oldest records found for the mine date back to 1291, but seeing as how the mine already existed at that point, we know that it is older than that even. It is the most visited mine in the world and the biggest tourist attraction in Poland. The floors, ceilings, walls and all statues are made of salt. 

The two salts produced today solely from pumping the water out of the mine is table salt and cosmetic salt. In the old days, the salt was produced for preservation purposes only. The statues throughout the cave were carved by actually miners, not artisits. There are a number of chapels down there and even the chandelieirs feature salt crystals. The mine consists of green salt which looks grey but is actually white or translucent in the light. 

One of the statues features Princess Kinga from Hungary. She threw her engagement ring down a mine in Hungary as an offereing to the Polish people, two weeks later she had a dream about digging in Poland and discovering a salt mine. She and a few miners found the mine and legend says her engagement ring was in the first rock of salt they found. Myth obviously. In reality, the mine is said to be a sea salt mine from 14 million years ago.

Miners were very wealthy during that time because salt was more valuable than silver. They were allowed to take one handful of salt up a day. Many also stole salt making them very rich! The word salary actually comes from the word 'sal' which means salt. Also, the hand motion depiicting "give me money" means, "show me the salt and I will give you the goods." The miners could afford to hire people to work for them even! However, it came at a cost: 10% died a year because of dangerous gas method of collecting salt. The miners in this mine were the first to use the British invented Davy lamp which detected monoxide and carbon oxide based on the size of the flame burning in the lamp. 

Gnomes were said to be good ghosts that come at night and work, misplace tools, fiddle with stuff and also warn miners of coming danger.  

There are 3 lakes throughout the mines made up of 32% salt. You can't sink or dive in these lakes. The biggest is 28 feet deep and 6 degrees celcius. 

Very informative. Very beautiful. Very cool. 

May 26th- Amsterdam, Netherlands & Travel to Poland

Early early morning for the 4 amigos. We had to make it to the Anne Frank house by 8:15 to get a good spot in line. It opens at 9 and by 8:45 the line is over 100 yards long. We met a sweet older couple from Illinois in line and chatted with them about travel and our plans and futures while we waited. I continued the read "The Falut in Our Stars," until I started crying in line for the museum. Lcuy Smart told me to finish before I got there to add a little magic to the moment. Highly recommend this book again by the way. 

As we begin touring the house, it really hits me where we are. The history surrounding us and the imagery of that time and hostility is swirling in my head. I have always been fond of the history of this time and the Jewish Genocide. Fond may not be the correct term to use here, but you understand my interest. Before we got to the museum I asked the girls, "Why Anne Frank?" "What makes her so different from the rest?" The answer I got was that she was 1.) In hiding for so long and 2.) She kept a diary and was able to share her life and her experience through the war that way. But as I went through the museum I realized it didn't matter who it was. Anne Frank is a symbol for all that suffered. She is just like every other Jew from that time. Living a life in fear and knowing hat your hopes and dreams may not find their way through the darkness. Anne's dream of becoming a writer did come to fruition, but it boggles my mind that after 2 years in hiding, they were found and she died 1 month before liberation. As if that isn't bad enough, she didn't even die from their torture, she died of disease that she was subjected to under poor sanitary conditions. It infuriates me that she and the rest of her family were so close. My heart goes out to all of the victims of course, but I especially would have liked to see her come through this. She sacrificed so much for her life and her freedom for so long, only to see the hammer of evil prevail in the end. I think its really great that after I got to see the Anne Frank house and here that story more first-hand, I get to travel to Poland and see the awful place that Anne and her sister were taken. It sometimes feels sick to me that we would choose to go to a concentration camp, but I think I want to see this horrendous place so that I can imagine a world were something like that took place and I can be disgusted beyond belief thinking that one human could do that to another for no reason. It will be eye opening to say the least. Tear-inducing and heart-wrenching. There is more I want to say about the surrealness of it all, but alas, I must move on. 

From the museum comes the walking tour of Amsterdam. It is free and facilitated through Sandeman Company. I would highly recommend this 3-hour informational tour to anyone interested in traveling. They offer it in a number of cities and we will definitely be participating again on this trip even. Our tour guide was Berber. She was 100% dutch and truly entertaining and knowledgable. She worked as a freelance tour guide with a law degree she decided she didn't want to use. Amsterdam is the largest harbor in the world (news to me). The city got its name because the fishermen and sailors who founded it built a dam in the Amstel river. Their people are very original so far as name skills are concerned. There are a number of dykes throughout the city that keep it from being underwater. In fact, if there was a natural disaster or serious flooding for any reason, the town would be 2/3s underwater. There are 1200 bridges in Amsterdam.... Whaaaat?? Amsterdam is not that big guys. There are three canals that surround the city  a spider web design. They are 3 meters deep and are cleaned every 3 days. In the winter, the canals freeze up and the people ice skate on them!! Because the town was created as a trade harbor, this is the thing that kept them thriving. They created the Dutch East India Company in 1602 (I believe) to harness that wealth and power f the revolutionary trade in Amsterdam. The company was built on the idea that people could invest in them by buying shares and stock in the company. They would then turn around and fund 20-ship fleets to Indonesia and similar places to collect goods for trade back in Amsterdam. In this way, the trips were more successful and fruitful, resulting in higher profits when brought back to Amsterdam. 

The houses built in swamp land are built on wood piling foundations. When we got to the city, we noticed all the leaning buildings but it turns out some of that is not a result of poor foundation structures, but is purposeful. They built the houses leaning slightly forward with large windows and pulley systems at the top so that they could move furniture into the buldings and for easy renovation and construction. This way the furniture did not bump against the bulding while they were transporting it up 8 meters. The smallest house in Amsterdam is 1 meter and 8 (something metric) wide. The man who lives there is actually taller than the building is wide. This is because, similar to many places including Hanoi, Vietnam, the property taxes were based on the amount of land your house covered. That is why the houses of Amsterdam started with small bases and many floors making them tall and skinny residences. The official flag of Amsterdam is 3 x's, XXX, representing the 3 dangers of the city- Fire (lots of wood way back when), Plague, and Water (still a danger today). You will see this notation on essentially everything in the city. 

As I said before, the city was created by sailors and therefore was well traveled by men primarily. The men having been pent up on ships for months with other men always wanted to step foot of the boat and immediately get some... BEER. So after their beers they wanted ladies and so was born the Red Light District. The government turned a blind eye to this behavior for hundred of years unti 2000 when they decided it was best to regulate it if it was going to happen anyway. They would rather have had the girls working than a bunch of frustrated, drunk sailors destroying the town. Today, the girls are completely legal- they pay taxes and even have a labor union. They have no need for pimps becuse they can call the police if they ever encounter a problem with customers. The women rent their space in the district in 8-hour blocks for a heafty sum and work to recover their money plus some through their shift. They go through clients as fast as possible to earn the greatest return. 

I bet you are also curious about the weed situation. Well weed is again tolerated by the govenment who now regulates it. You can purchase up to 5 grams at anytime from most "Cafes." You can also have up to 30 grams on your person at anytime and every Amsterdam resident is allowed 5 plants for their own personal use. However, marijuana is still illegal here apparently. I may have misunderstood her, or maybe its illegal when you don't follow the guidelines, but you can definitely just smoke out in the open and wherever. 

To escape jewish oppression, the Portuguese Jews migrated to Amsterdam to be accepted many years ago. When they came, they brought the diamond trade with them. Today, Amsterdam is the number 1 diamon cutter in the world and has been for oer 400 years. 

Also, I recommend Dutch cheese. Yum. There was so much infomation on the tour and this barely scrapes the surface, but all very interesting and worth the share.

We headed back to our apartment to pack up and depart for the airport. We made it to Riga, Latvia no problem and then took the teeniest jet to Warsaw, Poland late last night with the National Polish wrestling team. They were staring at us disgustingly and had cauliflower ears. Not a fan. 

May 25th- Amsterdam, Netherlands

After last night we had to sleep in a little bit. When we finally got out the door with some "breakfast" in our bellies, we went to the Van Gogh museum. Imagine for one second being in the presence of such works. Monet, Van Gogh and his inspirations and companions along with others filled the museum and made it truly magical. I am pretty sure I got chills looking at some of the original paintings of these art innovators. Van Gogh's transition of color was better learned in a museum with his works in front of me than in any Art History class (which I never took, but I can only assume). I would high and low recommend seeing the museum and the exhibit they have on display at the time. Apparently Amsterdam has some serious technology when it comes to analyzing original art work, so you know/hope its authentic. Some of my favorites from the exhibit were Van Gogh's Courtesan: After Eisen, 1887, Field with Poppies 1888, and Boulevard de Clichy, 1887. I also enjoyed Monticelli's Still Life of Flowers, 1875, and all of the screenprinting and nude work done by Felix Vallotton 1865-1925. There was something so honest in his depiction of the human body, even when it was satirical, there were the truths that nobody wants to admit. 

MUST. EAT. On to the pancake corner for lunch that we can only speculate is Dutch. The pancakes were crepe like and tastey but, holy moly, were they pricey. Amsterdam is a VERY expensive city, so beware. I paid 18 Euros for my meal which is like $25+. 

Finally we get to rent our bikes!! I am going to be honest here... my anxiety level was through the roof. There were so many bikes, so few street signs and traffic regulations, and therefore so much anxiety. I didn't want to be left from the pack; I didn't want to wreck my bike; I didn't want to be hit by a car since we were basically in the street; I didn't want to get honked at by another bike or car. The only thing I did want was to get off my feet and do as the Amsterdamers do- ride the gosh dang bike Jane. Katelyn almost got killed in traffic; Cybil and Michelle wrecked; no one got separated and I really had a (mostly) smooth ride. We took the bike to Vondelpark and rode through there. It was beautiful with the various art work, fountains and rose gardens. I felt like a local. There was music and picnics, football (European of course) and frisbee, dogs and blankets. It was just really nice to get to see all the young people and families and older people too I guess out enjoying a lazy Sunday. We layed in the grass for a while and just enjoyed a break in the fresh air contemplating the trip we are on. I was at least. What an opportunity to travel and see the world. I really am so lucky to be able to see something in my future and work to accomplish it until I do. Very few people get the chance to travel for 7 weeks or at all for that matter. Even though I don't have a job awaiting my return, I will be coming home with something to look forward to- planning my next trip! 

There are better pictures on my camera but I suppose this shows my sentiment for the bike riding adventure at the beginning. After leaving the park we went to Jordaan, a old neighborhood full of restaurants and bars, unique shops and young families and singles. It may be considered a tad more upscale as well and would have probably been nice for a good dinner, but for us it was a quite, simple bike ride. I think I would compare it to Williamsburg, New York. 

The night ended rather young until we went out for a show. Shared some good laughs and some wild memories and I will leave it at that. What happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam. Unless you also got a tattoo.... 

May 26th- Extra

I have a lot to say today. I have been feeling like I have left a few things out recently and I want to go back and address them now. Some are important and some are not, but I do wish to remember all of them so I am sharing now. 

Back in Portugal I observed some very beautiful things. I mean besides the scenery. I learned something that I think everyone knows but never takes the time to think about really. The language barrier alowed me to use my other sensors to experience things and to view my surroundings and understand them. A laugh is the same in any language. This honestly doesn't have to be thought of in a deep way, but simply putting it out there for the thought. It is true. No matter where you are from, what language you spek, your background, whatever it may be, when something is funny, it's funny and everyone laughs. It acts as a connector. I have been lucky enough to experience connectors before (with Kappa Delta- corny but true), but this one is different. It is more profound and abundant, wide reaching if you will. It bonds the world's people. It puts everyone on some sort of even plane. It makes an outsider a part of something bigger. I think that is why it was so moving when I figured it out. I wasn't even part of the joke and I don't know what provoked the laughter, but when I noticed it, it made me happy. It was a contagion caught and meant to be shared with the next person who needed it. 

Similarly, love is universal. We have all heard it and we have probably witnessed some form of love that spans the continents and whatever. I don't mean love in a romantic sense. I don't really know what to call the sense I mean it in, so let me share the story and you tell me. We were on the long bus ride to Cabo da Roca and being outside of the general tourist location, there were a lot of locals. On the outskirts of Sintra the towns are quite and rural. The life is simple there and the income probably low. What I witnessed was at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere, a small boy (about 3 years old I suspect) and his grandfather (most likely) were waiting for their better half to return home. As soon as the bus rounded the corner, you could see the light in the child's eyes. As the woman got off the bus, the boy ran to her and embraced her. The tired woman she was 5 minutes before after a long day of work melted away as she lifted the boy into her arms. The love is what makes her days worth their trouble. The moment was so pure and separate from the world around them. It was humbling to share this moment and inspiring to share it. I don't think I ever really take the time to think about the things that people do for me day in and day out. I could really get down to the nitty gritty focusing on the smallest of deeds, but I want to focus on my parents and my mom in particular. I have been so lucky and blessed to have been given the life I have. I know everyone has the right to say this, but I want to really thank my mom for having that pure love for me and my family that she would bust her butt everyday of her life to give us something she didn't have. I am sure my mom would tell you she was lucky too, but I know that to be false. When my mom really told me about her childhood I was 21 years old. I hate that I took it all for granted that long honestly. I guess in my head I thought my parents were brought up like me. In a stable HOME with plenty and never wanting; with a family- a unit. Dad jokingly told stories about how he had it so hard, "Walking to and from school 10 miles in the snow, uphill both ways (which isn't possible p.s. I only just figured that one out)." I just assumed. That they were as blessed as I was. I cannot begin to describe the accomplishments my mother has undertaken. She is an inspiration and a beacon. Honestly, she started with so little and made so much. I have never seen someone suceed like she has. I am always impressed and forever grateful that she so deeply desired a better life for our family than the one she was raised in. I don't mean this to say at all that her family wasn't wonderful, but she took everything she had and she made it better. I can't say enough thanks to the woman who raised me; who taught me right from wrong; who painted my nails and blow dryed my hair; who taught me to cook and clean; made me practice reading, writing and arithmetic; who pushed me; who encouraged me; who punished me; who grew me to be the same woman she is. I would be lucky to be half the woman she is. 

In other news, back in Portugal as well, I learned something about Cab drivers, or travel advice in general. Before you go on a trip anywhere (even down the street) you are told to be careful; you are warned against the dangers and recounted the worst case scenario stories. It goes without saying that we all received these type stories in bountiful earfulls before embarking on this adventure. I just want to put in a disclaimer that others don't really share: as a trusting person, I generally see the best in people until they give me a reason not to. In the case of the stories, I don't believe them until I experience them. Someone else's exchange shouldn't mar my opinion and it shouldn't cast premature judgement onto those who don't deserve it. A small example can be found with Cab drivers. People always have something bad to say about them hoodwinking you and taking advantage, etc etc. I am here to say that you should take it all with a grain of salt. I experienced three of the nicest people I met in Portugal in the Cabs. They were kind, inquistive, well-intentioned, helpful, gracious, good-humored souls. I always felt safe with them and never felt cheated. I am glad to have chatted with them and learned a little bit about their culture that you don't read about in museums or books. I just encourage everyone really to understand the dangers of certain things, but moreover, to see the best in people and trust. Everyone these days has trust issues. Get over that bullshit and trust people. You will almost always be impressed and probably better for it. I understand this isnt a perfect world and there are plenty of crazy people out there, but try to image how beautiful life could be if we didn't have the guard rails blocking our experiences. 

May 24th- Amsterdam, Netherlands

It was our first day in Amsterdam today. Already love it here. It is absolutely gorgeous and the people here are some of the friendliest I have ever met. Everyone is helpful and kind and they all want to know who you are and what you like and all that jazz. We tried to get an early start to the day with a trip to the supermarket. Everything is really expsenive here, so we thought it would be best to pick some things up and cook. After our trip out and back to the apartment, we headed towards the "I Amsterdam" sign for photos and to go to the Van Gogh Museum.On the way we went through the Red Light District which is maybe 2 blocks from out apartment- prime location, am I right? The funny part is the Red Light District is actually the safest area in Amsterdam according to locals and other tourists. Anyway, there wasn't a great selection (for lack of a better word) at that hour, but still a small glimps of that culture here. So like I said, on to the sign and the museum. We get to the sign and all take our photo in front of it with about 400 other tourist and then we stand and watch some street performance break dancers for a while. They really had the crowd going, which I guess is their job but I am always always into entertainment and dancing. I thought it was funny when they were asking for money that they said, "Obama wants CHANGE but we want BILLS." Hardy har har. As that ended we found out the Van Gogh Museum was sold out for the day so we went ahead and bought tickets for the following day. So already a few things on our list are a bust. OH WELL. Now we decide not to rent bikes today since the weather is questionable. Another thing busts. We stop into a diamond "museum" because it is free and nothing else seems to be working out anyway. I did learn something here which I was previously unaware of. Amsterdam has been the world's leading diamond cutter for over 400 years. Interesting, and now not a completely wasted tour. To the Royal Palace it is. Not every impressive. Since it is an active palace, there isn't much to see. I wouldn't recommend it to other travelers honestly. There is some history but nothing truly pertinent to their politics or anything of that nature. 

We are pretty exhausted at this point. For some reason the night before, Katelyn and I didn't slumber until around 4 am and that has definitely caught up to us now. We do a canal cruise to wind down and enjoy the scenery. Also a waste of money. If you want to cruise the canal, which I suggest, try to find a small boat tour or like a private boat or something. It was not very informative and the time spent in the canals was limited because the boat was too big to go down most of the inlets. EP Stallworth, all this info is for you, so enjoy and take notes. 

We made it back to the apartment for dinner and a nap. Slept until 11 which is when things start get going around here. We reseached a few places to go, learning that DJs were realy great here and we should go to a disco. We had some places picked out and we embarked to find a bar to pop into for a quick drink before. A quick drink turned into the whole evening when a bachelor group from London joined us for some beers. We spent a few hours talking with them and laughing and mocking each other's accents. It was beautiful. They told us that our Southern accents were just as sexy to them as presumably, their accent was to us. They assumed correctly!! Such a good thing to hear after we get ragged on by the damn Yankees all the time. HAHA! We sang country western music together in the alley bar and karaoked to Britney Spears and the like. It was altogether just a convergence of kindred spirits that make your realize how small the world actually is. Hugo, James, Fenbar, Chris, and Glen (the lucky bachelor) were too kind to us and really made our night fantastic. They escorted us through the Red Light District is the most gentlemen-ly fashion and right back to our home block. Meeting strangers is what this trip is all about. FInd out their stories, share yours and take those cherished memories with you. You have to be open to these experiences. And obviously you have to be smart about it, but we were and we all really enjoyed ourselves. Who cares about the seedy disco when you make friends and share laughs?

 

Oh yeah and we got these fry cones which I guess are like a thing here. 

Finally a picture of all 4! New friends, new places. 

May 23rd- Belem, Portugal & Travel to Amsterdam

Shoutout to Wes Kent for reminding me of how truly idiotic I am and correcting my original blog dates of June to the actual May dates. Slow down tiger.... You have a long way to go yet. Stick around until June though everyone- if you can stomach it. 

This has been quite the day. Having a lot of time to reflect, I was able to get down some unbloggable toughts. Nerd alert: writing really does provide an outlet that everyone could benefit from and which I never really practiced until this trip. Buying this keyboard has been the best idea I have had thus far. 

Think about the concept for a minute though: I am able to get my "feelings" out and voice all frustrations and fears and how ever many other emotions I am feelings at an singular point in time. All the while, I am not bending anyone else's ear to complain or brag, etc. Still, I am able to be alone with my thoughts and get away from whatever is around me at the moment if necessary. I feel better after this. I look forward to writing about the day each day and it has become somewhat of a joke on the trip; "Jane! Is that going to make the blog?" "Quick write down *insert ridiculous thing Cybil said now here*!" But honestly, I like to keep these memories "on paper." I really hate how bad my memory is. I have so many wonderful experiences that I want to remember and so many images I want to remain burned into my memory, but the time fades them until they are gone altogether. My writing lets my mind rest because even while they are forgotten, as soon as I read them its like Christmas Morning; almost as if I have never experienced them before and it's the first time again. Not-surprisingly, I enjoy them just as much. 

Now for the part you all read the blog for in the first place, I assume. Today was a half day in Belem, Portugal. We went for one reason and one reason only: Pastel de Nata- the specialty dessert of Portugal. It is more or less a custard cup, but when you go to Pasteis de Belem, it is a dream. Crunchy phylo dough on the outside with a warm, almost creme brulee type, filling on the inside. The flavor is much like Creme Brulee as well, but this pastry melts in your mouth and makes you forget those aching dogs and sweat dripping down your back that was sacrificed to get there. There are definitely other parts of Belem that are good to see like the monastary and the Belem tower, but if you are in a crunch, the pastry is more than enough. 

For you future travelers of Portugal a little tip: check the schedules of the trains before you get on one. I know this seems relatively obvious and it may be, but for us, we were unaware that not every train on a particular route stopped at each station. SURPRISE. When we finally got to Belem, we knew never to make that mistake again. Apparently its also against the law to ride the train past the station whose ticket you purchase. Detainment is my middle name guys.... But really, we finally got it right and got the dang pastry on empty bellies and frustration. On the way back to the Cais de Sodre station to catch the metro, I was locked into the train station. This is a funny story but I can't find the humor just yet. When I tell you that Katelyn and I have had trouble with every single metro ticket we have purchased, I am hardly exaggerating. So everyone gets through the electric gates and then there is me. Panic setting in that  I can't get back through. You can't just buy another ticket, because there is no stand, kiosk, booth to run to. So Cybil says, "Here let me swipe from this side and just run through really fast." And honestly, I don't know why this felt like a probable solution, but desperate times yadda yadda. She swipes, I run. I smack, they laugh. Apparently there is an um like sensor to block people from doing things like this. Well I have bruises on the face, leg, and pride to let them know that their technology is fine and well and works wonderful for its design. Congrats. In the end, Cybil handed me the card so that I could swipe through and that made a lot more sense and a lot less commotion. Although, one thing I do feel pretty badly about is that there was another woman who was trapped on the other side and I just left her. I don't think I will forgive myself. She didn't have friends with her. I hope another kinder person came along to offer assistance.  

Finally to the airport, on the plane and in the air. I am currently reading "The Fault in Our Stars" by John Green and it is moving to say the least. I cannot seem to put it down, and I don't want it to end, though I know it will. This will make more sense for those of you who have also read it, or who know the story. I do highly recommend this by the way and I am not even to the end. This is a book so wonderful that at this point, the end doesn't matter. No matter how it ends, I know it was worth the read. Something that dawns on me while reading this existintially moving book is that there is a thing about lessons- you don't know you are learning them. And obviously I am not talking about English lessons and that bullshit, but the lessons of life. I feel like I spend a lot of time waiting to learn some huge life-changing lesson when in reality, I am learning something everyday. I want this great story for my book on the big lesson of your 20s, or the thing that taught me what I wanted to be or do or whatever the lesson of the hour is, but I am never going to get that. Not if I keep staring at it in the face at least. I, like everyone else out there, just need to step back and live and learn the lessons life throws at me. Sometimes they are simple and they make sense and other times, they are extrodinary and take a really long time to develop or figure out their purpose. Always though, they are worth it. Another thing about lessons is that you can't teach them to anyone else. You can certainly share experiences and sage wisdom if you think you have it, but a lesson is only really grasped when you yourself are in the midst of it. 

Also, we made it to Amsterdam. It's awesome.

May 22nd- Sintra, Portugal

Holy Slugging S#!^

It has been an amazing day!! Not without all the crazy ups and downs- literally ups and downs of this mountainous area. We started early with a train ride to Sintra. We get there raring to ride electric bikes up to Pena Palace. It was starting to rain so we opted for the hop on, hop off bus and thank God we did. After taking a bus up the mountain and hiking 400 meters to the palace, I can confirm beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would not be able to ride a bike up 5 plus miles of mountain. NOPE. It said average athleticism... and like I know I am no picture of high metabolism and healthy lifestyle practices, but still, I can do average. We did hike with no problem to Moorish Castle after the amazing tour of Pena Palace. Pena literally translates to mean boulder, cliff or rock which accurately describes the landscape up to this point. Pena was last inhabited by King Fernando II as a summer home. A. Summer. Home. That is until 1910 when the country of Portugal became a republic. You should see this place. It was amazing and the view of the valley and the ocean is gorgeous. (This photo doesn't do it justice.)

Like I said, on to the Moorish Castle, which is a military fort built around the 10th century by the Muslim populations occuping the Iberian peninsula at the time. They used it as a control tower for the atlantic coast and the land to the north. Also, King Fernando II used to paint in one of the towers and I have no idea how he got up there, but the view probably offered a decent backdrop. 

Before we visited the castles, we ate at this sweet cafe named Cafe Saudade. The atmosphere was perfect and very bohemian feeling. I had a Saudad coffee which is coffee with sweetened condensed milk.... Holy sugar. It was hard to drink but I wanted to do the Cafe Saudade thing. I also had their quiche which was a little taste of home- although nothing gets close to Aunt Susie's quiche. 

From Sintra, we grabbed a bus to Cabo da Roca- the western most point of Europe. I have been to a lot of places; a lot of beautiful places at that, but this place was unreal. Never have I been able to stand on one small piece of land and look in 300 degrees around me and see nothing but beautiful Atlantic Ocean. It was a really neat experience. The bouldering sea side and the crashing waves, the breeze on my face and the wild flowers growing along the hillside. It was just one of the times that I took a deep breath and said, this is what they mean when they say this is a once in a lifetime kind of trip. It is. And I am so thankful to be on something like this. Nothing is going to shake me on this trip or bring me down. Its all the bees knees and I am just taking it in one breath at a time. While we were there, this really sweet man who was traveling with a group of older men and women offered to take our photo and then came back by and gave us the remainder of his port wine. I know it seems sketchy but I am trusting as you know and its not like I sat there and drank it in front of him. He offered it to us as a congratulations for being in this beautiful place and being young and able to travel. I loved the gesture and I cherish that gift from him. Also, I have always wanted a free drink from a stranger and now I got one!

After finally making it back at 10 pm to the apartment, we regrouped and went to a local Portugese restaurant that our proprietor suggested. I got the Bacalhau a Lagareiro which is codfish with olive oil and garlic with a side of roasted potatoes and broccoli. It was superb. By far the best meal I have had in a while. I went out of my comfort zone and it was so so worth it. I also had some port wine with dessert that was not from a stranger. I didn't end up drinking that tiny portion the man gave me either p.s. (settled some nerves I hope). 

At dinner we had some wine. When in Portugal, do as they do ya know? So at the end Cybil come out with this shit, "I mean, I am definitely enjoying the trip more now with the wine." But what??? Thanks Cybil. We are enjoying your company too. 

Want to hear another funny thing Cybil said today? I bet you I will have something good everyday to report to you guys. We are at the bus stop and there are a number of Asian travelers waiting with us and out of nowhere Cybil starts talking about how badly she wants to be Asian. She goes into great detail and then says that she and Mahamed (her boyfriend) already have their Asian names- Ming (Mohamed) and Ling (Cybil Katherine Lango Geiss). Her greatest desire is to be an Asian family and have Asian children. I am starting to understand the context of our meeting one another... on a trip to Vietnam, Thailand and Cambodia. 

So after dinner we got adventurous and tried out the nightlife in Barrio Alto. We had a mojito and saw the view of the whole city at night. There are no container laws and apparently some really lax drug laws judging by peoples behavior and inquistions. We have vowed  to go out at least once in every area that we are visiting so that we can get the full picture of the culture.

Last thing honestly! I want to talk about the people of Portugal for a quick second. I discussed a little history, a lot of landscape, a little food, and now a touch of culture. Barely scraping the surface and not even sharing all I know, just the high points. There is no identifying portugese people. That is to say in the areas that we visited, there isn't a type of person that you see. Much like America, everyone is different and all the same as well. What I really want to share before I get too deep is that these people take their time. It was something I noticed in Asia and again here, other people LIVE life. the actually take it in and appreciate the moment. They contemplate the small things and revel in the beauty of life's happenings. They take the time to understand the people and the world around them and they live in it. It isn't centered around them. Some things to keep in mind as I start this life thing on my own two feet. 

May 21st- Lisbon, Portugal

Today was great! We slept in to recover from our jetlag until 10:30 and then got ready and headed to Museu do Azulejo- the Tile Museum. It was rainging again so we took a cab. When we got in we got to hear some lovely Fado music. Already I know it is going to be a much better day. Michelle and I shazamed it without internet so that it could tag it when we got back. We now have 5 Fado songs downloaded and two great artisits to listen to- Carminho and Pablo Alboan (Perdoname by Pablo Alboan is the song if you fancy a listen. Make sure to get the duet version featuring Carminho). The museum was right on the river and had a cute cafe for us to eat lunch at. It was really neat to see how the tile was made and how intricate all of the old tile works were. That whole exhibit was right up my alley and something totally different than the normal history. I think my love for traveling coincides perfectly with my love for arcitechture. From there we went to Alfama accidentally. Alfama is the old town area of Lisbon on the river. It was my favorite part of today. Everything "feels" local and old. This area remind me of Havana in Dirty Dancing Havana Nights and if I told any of these people here that they may kill me.... Let's keep it between me and you. We stayed in this aea until we were able to find the old tram line and we jumped on tram 28 to get to the Castelo De Sao Jorge- St. Jorge's Castle. It was really nice and from here we had the best view of the city. I honestly think I took about 80 pictures of the castle and its surroundings, but I assure they were all worth it. Plus, Cybil is really helping me learn my camera and a stranger taught me a new setting to use today which takes very nice pictures. I had every intention of bringing the manual with me for some lite reading on the plane ride but I forgot it, along with the charger and very other accessory that goes with the camera. Yes, this is the same camera I bought specifically for this trip. I so smarts.... So anyway, there is a lot of history with the castle and I won't bore you with it all bus essentially it was built there on the top of the hill for protection and to view incoming armadas from the river. It was initially for royal families but after expansion into the city it became military barracks. I read all about their cooking utensils, their storage, their money (very interesting- they actually cute the coins in half and even quarters to represent the quantity they needed because it was a literal weight system witht he metal used), their hunting and trade and their burial. The burial was neat I thought because it made me stop and think. It said- "[Adopted from Islamic tradition] the bodies were placed on their right side with their head toward the ecca. Cemeteries were located on the outskirts of urban centers along roads that lead away from the city so that travelers could dedicate prayers to the deceased." For some reason this really struck me and I felt like as a traveler we should throw some love out for the deceased as we leave each city we visit. I am sure it was deeper for me in my thoughts, but I am too tired to remember and/or write it all out right now. 

Outside of the castle, we ran into a few shops but quickly found food! We picked this tiny little Indian restaurant (YUMMMM) and Cybil and I made Katelyn and Michelle try their first ever Indian meal. They liked it. I think. BUT listen to this- there was an American couple next to us when we sat down and at first I was excited because we haven't seen really any Americans, much less anyone who speaks fluent English. As the meal went on and they got their check, I realized I didn't like them. AT ALL. They were obviously shocked by the final ticket price and asked the waiter over to expain the charges to them. When the waiter was explaining that they charged for the bread and cheese and eggplant spread, the woman was outraged and was all, "This isn't ethical! You're just charging unknowing tourists for bread that you offered them? I mean I am all for paying for what I ate but you have to tell people when they have to pay for something that you didn't ask if we wanted." Yadda yadda. The waiter is trying so hard to one, piece together what she is saying and two, be patient and understanding. So they fianlly send him off and ask for the manager. I just want to throw out that I am sitting less than 2 feet away from this woman and my face is on fire. I am as embarrassed as they come and there are maybe 5 tables in the whole restaurant, so all eyes are on us. The manager comes over and explains its customary and apologizes and everything that comes with this type of situation. She is still being a total bitch when she asks what he 23% charge is for and Cybil kindly buts in, "Oh thats the VAT. Its normal in Europe." She freaks the fug out and shoots daggers at Cybil and says, "Um I'm sorry but don't. We are in the middle of handling this. YALL ARE OBVIOUSLY MORE WELL TRAVELED THAN WE ARE." I mean honestly I wanted to reach aroud and smack her. Do not condescend us while you are making a fool of yourself. As fellow Americans we were trying to help explain. We won't make that mistake again. We knew that every restaurant in Portugal charged for the things they put on the table if you didn't tell them to take them back. Mainly because we read the guide books and talked to people, but I guess mostly because we are super dee duper well traveled 22 year olds. Bite me. As they are paying, her weeny husband chimes in, "This would NEVER happen in America." I am sitting in my seat holding back my laughter while enjoying my Chicken Curry, all the while thinking, "You're right it wouldn't. So go back there. This isn't America, they didn't ask to be America, and if you love America so much then why did you need to come here to show your ass?" He insisted he would leave a bad review and that he was (half-assed) sorry about it. After they left, we profusely apologized for their behavior and promised that all American's werent like that. I mean sheesh, no wonder people have such a negative opinion of American travelers. Enjoy the culture you are being immersed in and let 5 euros go down the drain when you have to. 

May 19th- Travel

I have said this the whole time, and I will say it again: I have not and do not feel prepared for this trip. The morning started in a rush, from repacking my backpack to trying to figure out all the stuff I still needed to do before getting out the door. Went to drop off the tourism books I had borrowed from the library, then to the bank to deposit some money and get a few euros for the cab fare to the first hostel is Lisbon, Portugal. Finally make it to the airport and realize I have not downloaded any music on my phone for the countless travel hours I will be enduring the next couple months. INFURIATING. The best part is that my computer was dead so I couldn't even use that in the car to sync.... Long story short, Mom and Jordan try to do me a favor by taking my phone and laptop with charger while I am in line to check-in to try to synch the two. Get through the line to find that I need my phone because it is literally holding ALL of my information for this entire trip. Get out of line, staying positive because these things happen, find the ladies and grab my cell. Make it to the line again when Katelyn and entourage show up. We get checked in just fine and say our tear-stained goodbyes before we embark on the adventure of our lives. Get through security in one piece (which seems more relaxed than ever) and are en route to the gate when Katleyn can't find her phone. "Don't panic," said by me just sends her into a frenzy, back to security we go and thank god for the kindness of fellow travelers who turned it in to the TSA desk.

We are currently in the air, somehwere over New England I can assume. Its hot on this plane and a baby has been crying for the duration of the 2 hour flight. 

Things going through my head:

I need some cards. I guess I will buy them with dinner in Newark-- they will probably be a lot of fun on the trains and even in the hostels with other KEWL travelers. Broke a nail, dern. Need an emory board. This is a joke; I can't believe Target was out. Who runs out of emory boards? Why didn't I get a snack? Doesn't united do pretzels? Or do they do biscotti? Who does the biscotti? Is it Southwest? Did I check flight prices for Southwest? Wonder if it was cheaper. Remember when Papa John had those biscotti crackers and then bought a value pack at Sams Club? 

Despite how illprepared I feel for this trip, I know that I am going to learn a lot. I have already practiced my patience, flexibilty and quick wit. I am really looking forward to this adventure-- of course you know I can't wait for the food (SHOCK), but I think mainly I am pumped about meeting so many new people! I can't wait to interact with the other young travelers and hear their stories and get their opinion on our travel plans and career paths and god knows what else I will want to ask them. I know everyone says that they would want to travel more if they could and for a living even, but I actually think I am cut out for it. I don't mean traveling as a business(wo)man in a suit and stuff, but traveling as a person, experienceing other people and cultures, food, and scenery. 

Starting the decent, I want to close by talking a little about Graduation. I am sad about leaving despite having this awesome trip to look forward to and to keep me occupied. There is some emptiness in my heart where BSC and all my classmates went in it. In this huge transition time, I have to keep reminding myself that when I get back, everything is going to be different. I want to know that when I come home, I may not be pulling back on campus, but that all my friends are still living in Birmingham and planning to stay just a little while. The truth is that everyone is going 80 different ways and I am not even certain that I am not one of those people at this point. The anxiety of not having a job back home is killing me. I know I gave up the whole plan your whole life out second-by-second thing, but I am just worried that I won't be able to make ends meet; that I won't be able to support myself on my own; that even though I have been told the last 4 years were preparation for this, I will still fail. Don't get me wrong, I know failure is healthy to some extent, I just don't want to be unhappy and if there is anything that makes me unhappy, its financial anxiety. Back to the point though...I hate change. I LOVE new things and updates and innovation and whatever but when it comes to friends, I hate the movement. Its the uncertainty of finding friends as good as these and the weight on my shoulders to remember to keep up with each of them. How do older people do it? It's already a struggle to keep up with high school friends, but now to keep up with high school friends, college friends, and family, all while balancing new relationships. Am I the only freak who thinks of all of these things? A college friend, Amy Heldt, once said it best, "Here is how Jane's brain works: We are having a conversation about C and D, but meanwhile, Jane is also thinking about A, B, E, F, and G and then suddenly she reverts the conversation back to Q, L, and Z." It is too true to tell you the truth. She nailed it and I guess most of my friends have had the same thought about my train of thought. Keep reading and you will soon understand... that is if you don't already.

May 20th- Cascais, Portugal

Holy moly. 

Where to even start with this day? It was a shit show to say the least. I don't need to remind you that we were so totally unprepared for this trip. 

Picture this: Get off the flight and plan to grab some euros only to find out that my cards are locked because I had to apply for new PIN numbers. So now I remember that by the grace of god I happened to have $80 in cash on me. No place to exchange. Head to the metro blue line. I obviously have to mooch off of someone, so why not Katelyn? So katelyn is at the purchase kiosk trying to get our passes (nothing is in english) and goes to pay with pounds. I knew they didn't look right, but I am no currency expert, so I went with it. Well now that puts both Katelyn and I without any euros. JOY. So now we both mooch off of Cybil (Thanks Cybil!!). Finally get cards and get in the station. We know where we are going because a nice lady in the airport at Toruist Information gave us a map and semi explained how to get there. We arrive with no trouble at the location indicated by the woman to be our destination, to find that we are truly not where we need to be and very very lost in a town where hardly anyone speaks english. We would get a cab but we don't have the full address to our hostel and no one seems to be able to recognize the street name anyway. Now what? Katelyn is going off pure memory looking at the metro maps and insists that we get on the green line and get off at one of two consecutive stops. We have no phones, no language help, no smarts and we are literally exhausted. What the helgado do we have to lose at this point? P.S. the street name is Rua Heliodoro Salgado so that was a little play on words for your entertainment. 

KP is one smart cookie because she gets us there. I haven't even mentioned all the trouble we have encountered with the metro pass along the way, but we are now 2 hours later arriving than indicated. We happen upon the unmarked apartment building and while a Portugese woman is trying to help us, the proprietor pulls up from running errands. Like fate. All I can think now is what the hell would we be doing if he hadn't walked up at that exact moment and directed us? It would be a friggen train wreck. Now you should know that this is a 6 story walkup and we are wearing out 35+ lbs packs. Holy sweat. 

After getting settled and showered off, we find out that our host was a tour guide for the past 2 years and he is brimming with knowledge of Cascais and Sintra. He told us what he thought we had to do while we were here and we set off to find somewhere to finally exchange my dollars and KP's pounds. Found. Now food, for the love of god, food. We ended up eating in this sketchy shit hole area of town in some hispter looking park... Mexican. As you can probably imagine, it wasn't great. Board train to Cascais; all 4 of us pass out after aggreeing to sleep in shifts. HAHA. But we do finally make it and see the ocean and the sailboats and it was a huge difference from the dirty streets of Lisbon. There isn't much to do there besides go to the beach, but surprise, it's raining and is 50 degrees. Such a perfect beach day, right? 

Honestly, we didn't eat well, we didn't sleep at all; we saw very little that was impressive, but we got our sea legs and we finally understand how to navigate the city, the people (a tad), and our patience. No one lost their cool today or dominated, or even showed frustration. We all worked together to figure it out and we did. We are pretty smart when we have to be. Which really leads me into another point about relying on cell phones and internet and how it makes us dumb. More on that later... right now, I am going to climb into the top bunk with Katelyn and catch some serious z's.