So this was a hectic week. I will first start by saying that this weeks blog carries on from last weeks. Now that I type that I feel a little silly, of course it does. Barcelona, Paris, to Amsterdayyyyym (son) and Berlin. Anyway, enjoy?
Monday
3am start and I was so excited for Barcelona (to leave Porto was sad though). I packed up my stuff and raced down stairs to check out.
As for Pilot hostel, I would 10/10 recommend you stay there if you want to have a good time. The hostel organised a airport shuttle bus to get us there on time, which was 9e each. We boarded our flight and I think that the Portuguese sandwich from the day before had made my tummy go bad. But Caro had it a lot worse, she looked like her stomach was possessed by Satan for most of the day, I merely just had a food baby for most of the day. I called it Miranda Kerr.
We arrived in Barcelona maybe two hours later, after the people at the help desk, who, by the way, were extremely helpful and lovely to us, even though we do not speak Spanish or Catalan.
We found the hostel but, unfortunately could not check in. Caro was feeling like death, so she had a rest while I went on a little adventure and found some lunch.
I found this delicious bakery, and had a BLT with goats cheese for 3e. I then walked around. Near our hostel, the Black Swan (I also recommend this hostel, very central, helpful, good facilities and activities), is one a the biggest monuments, the Arc de Triomf.
A big red brick construction, with endless parks beyond. It was lovely just to wander around and eat a sandwhich. Street artists and acrobats were everywhere, and doing quite amazing things. Also, while it was a lot colder than Porto, the sun was still out at this point. I went back to the Hostel to find Caro had improved somewhat. So we went for a wander together, through the winding streets. Looking at the ornate and densely populated buildings, with Christmas decorations spanning as far as I could see. I love European Christmas decorations.
We went back to the hostel to finally check in, formally, and Caro went to bed. So I went on another journey just walking around the streets. I had a long cafe ou leche (Guess who doesn’t speak Spanish? Moi!), and did what every tourist should do, people watch. I find this the best way to soak in what the city really is, by going to an obscure-ish cafe and sitting, quietly watching the world go by, people interact and have cultural customs play out in from of you. Not stalking, I am not weird.
Ensuite, I accidentally found myself at the Palau de la Musica Catalana. A building of which was designed by a famous architect, Guadi. Very Barcelona, with the curvy columns and intricate mosaic facades.
Quirky little windows and lots of shapes and designs interacting with each other. Fascinating to look at.
I went to the local store to buy some things for dinner, as the hostel had a great kitchen, and Caro was still sick. The famous university-student-meal of pasta and sauce, avec du fromage. Whilst at the table, we met one other American, a Canadian and A Kiwi.
Australian and New Zealander accents are different. And that is all I will say on that topic.
We then mustered some energy and went for a walk through the old town of Barcelona.
A quick tip, Barcelona is very expensive in the way of tourism. Hostels, and food are relatively well priced, but buildings, museums and the Sangrada Familia are VERY expensive (for university students anyway). However, on Sundays museums are free (most museums anyway, just look on their sites for more information) and tickets for tourist attractions and museums are cheaper and easier to get online, just print them off and you can avoid the long lines of people waiting to buy a ticket.
Most of these places in Barcelona (I found out the hard way) only sell a limited amount of tickets a day, both online and at the ticket booths, so book and pay online and your life will be so much easier. Our hostel printed all our tickets for no charge.
Tuesday
I had the best sleep. the bed was shit, and we were in a room with 13 other people, but I slept like a baby for a full 9 hours. Bliss. I woke up and had a shower. lLets talk about hostel showers. They are small. I am big. The shower turns off every 15 seconds. I was getting dressed in the shower cubicle and accidentally tapped the edge of the tap, and the shower turned on. I was soaked. Luckily I packed 8 outfits, oh wait, I didn’t…
So after that debacle, I went down stairs and had some breakfast. The hostel has tour guides who come around every morning at 10h00 to pick up people for the free* walking tours.
*By free they mean that there is no set price, they will just give you a guide as to what you should pay. I give them 5e, because that is the first number they say. #freenotfree
We went on the Guadi tour, which took us all around Barcelona to four major architectural spots that showcase the work of the renown Catalan architect, Antoni Guadi. Our tour guide was very friendly and full of information about the man and his life, and buildings. She also explained a little about what was happening politically at the time in Barcelona and Spain in general, and the symbolism in Guadi’s work.
Notably, he is the architect of the Sangrada Familiar. An unfinished church in Barcelona, which is now a major tourist spot. I personally, don’t like the Sangrada Familiar, I will go see it when it is finished.
After the tour, we went to a little restaurant in the area and had a really lovely lunch at Lizarran. Decent price for great food.
One of Guadi’s major works resides in Park Guell, it is a bit of a hike outside of the city. So we hoped on the train and got off at the wrong stop, and because Caro wasn’t feeling to well we made the long trek back to the hostel.
We decided to have a rest and I would do some homework and figure out where to go next. I decided we really needed to go to the Park Guell. However, Caro didn’t wake up in time, so I went to the Picasso Museum instead. It cost me 7e as a student in the EU, which is pretty good for Barcelona. I then went for some walks around the Gothic area and went into this great cathedral I had been eyeing off the other night. It was huge and ornate on the inside, and time had taken its toll, however the gold and stained-glass stood out amoung the stone and blackened walls. After, I got lost in their quirky markets, in the narrow streets.
I returned to the hostel at around 7pm, checked on Caro, and we went downstairs to the Paella cooking class that was happening in our hostel! This, handsome, guy gave us step by step instructions to create a chicken and chorizo paella. And it tasted like Spanish heaven. It made my tummy so happy.
So after dinner, which was scrumptious, we made our way to a Flamenco night at a bar in the Gracia district. It was one of the smallest, quirkiest (without trying) bars I have been too.
People congregated on bar stools, the floor, huddled up in each other’s arms. We were lucky enough to get a bar stool right in front of the action, and it was intense. A few songs of traditional Catalan music (which just sounds like a mix of Portuguese/Spanish music), and then the Dancer would stand up, and with eyes like razor blades, she would cut through the room. So intense. When her gaze hit you, you immediately wanted to run. Fierce as.
At around midnight we got back to the hostel, and I was exhausted after a day on my feet.
Wednesday
I accidentally slept in until 9h30, so I had to quickly shower, pack my stuff up and strip my bed to check out of the hostel. However, they let us keep our stuff there for no charge. I had a hasty breakfast and we were then picked up by the tour guide for the Gothic Tour of Barcelona. Now. This guy, had been smoking a joint (naughty boi) before he came to our hostel. He was insane. Funny, and explosive (in a fun way), but by the end of the our I got completely sick of it.
He showed us where Pablo Picasso went to school. Bit of a tragic story there, as Picasso’s sister died, he became obviously traumatized, so his father took him to Barcelona to go into the best art school there was, and it still stands today. Then we went and touched the oldest building in Barcelona, which is around two thousand years old. This building was apart of the wall that once surrounded the city.
Cathedrals, more famous people, and a few fun facts about nightlife in Barcelona and living there were also on the agenda. We found out that most tour guides (who are not locals) tend to be illegals just living on the down-low until they can be naturalized. It takes three years to become naturalized in Spain, and for this guy, who is from the States, it just meant that he cannot get subsidies, or a real job, or travel outside of the country. But he seemed to be having a blast.
We had a nice little lunch of Pizza and a Catalan chocolate drink.
Afterwards we trekked to Park Guell. If you go there, get off at Vallcarca, but don’t try and go home that way, leave Park well from the front entrance in front of the monuments, and it is all down hill. But it’s a little over 1km to the station.
The walk from Vallcarca was still full on, there are escalators for most of the way, as it is quite a steep hill, but you do have to do a little bit of the climbing yourself, I started to get a bit puffed, and I thought Caroline was going to die behind me. Poor soul.
The gardens are free, and there are acres of landscaped, and also untamed gardens with sculptures, and intricately ‘Guadi’ designed walk-ways that you can visit. For 7e, you can visit the Monument zone, which has the houses that Guadi designed which are on display, as well at the gardens and the famous mozaic-curvy-seat that wraps around the top of the look out overlooking the city of Barcelona. Gorgeous.
After the Park we went back to the hostel, collected our stuff and went to the airport. I had the whole row of seats to myself on the plane! So I had a nice little nap, like 30 minutes. Then we caught the BEAUVAIS-PARIS bus back home.
Thursday
I got up and washed my clothes, because I was barely going to be in Paris for more than 22 hours, and then went to uni to study, print off stuff, see people, prepare my body for the destruction what the French exam was going to bring, etc. Also I had a cheeky raclette sandwich for lunch.
The exam was. O.K.
Afterwards I went home and packed my bag, had a two hour nap and at 22h30 I went to the tram stations to get to my Flixbus by midnight. I arrived JUST in time. The bus terminal at Porte Maillot, where I go to catch buses, was closed, as it was under construction. There were tiny little signs directing me to the temporary terminal, but I got lost, and with the help of another student, we eventually found our way.
Friday
The bus arrived at 5h00! two hours earlier than it was supposed to. Not even going to ask how. Anyway, it was pitch black in Amsterdam, the only like coming from the dull street lamp. I looked at my map on my phone (of which I had screenshot-ed, because I had no internet) and it said I just had to go one stop on the metro towards the city. Easy right? Wrong, the machine wouldn’t change to English because the button was broken, so I prayed to baby Jesus and picked a ticket.
Alas, I got on the train, which takes you from city to City in Holland. Oops. Thankfully realized this early and got out at Amsterdam Centraal. SO, I went back to the station I came from, figured out that the level above was the metro and finally went the the right stop. Now, I had the problem of navigating with not a single soul around to get to the Hostel from the metro. Christ almighty. Not to mention how UNdelightfully freezing it was.
I just walked around for about an hour, even though the hostel was a solid five minute walk from the station. Yet, after being on a bus for so long sitting down, the exercise was nice.
I finally made it, and sat in the warm, as it was around 5 degrees at this point. Beny arrived ten minutes after, so we freshened ourselves up ( as much as we could, as we still could not check in), and went into town. The historical part.
Walking around, Amsterdam is just stunning, the intricate system of rivers, bridges, and old-thin houses lining the sides of the canals. Just beautiful. I have to admit, I am not really there for the pot *makes hand gesture*. So there are no stories about how I got ridiculously stoned and managed to urinate on my own head or something. Honestly. I just love history, and Amsterdam has so much of that. This city has been through a lot!
Our first task was to find somewhere to sit down for Breakfast, as we were both pretty hungry and freezing. I think that Beny was a little more used-too the climate than I was, especially as I came from Barcelona 24 hours beforehand. It took us a little while to find a place, and a lot of walking around, but this city is just beautiful.
Anyway, we found this little cafe, and just ate some house ciabatta with Dutch cheese, and I needed a coffee. The cafe sat in such a pleasant place, and was warm, as we looked out over the canals, and watched the streets start to thicken with people.
Bikes. Oh my gosh, bikes! Minimal cars, everyone has a bike. It is amazing, I would see a man carrying two primary school aged children on their bike, with more things in the carry basket at the front. But, our tour guide later told us that there is apparently a system, which is “stay out of their F*@#ing way“.
We really had no idea what to do, and again, as students away from Paris, where everything is pretty much free for us, our budget started t look sad. So I looked up things that are interesting, but not touristy. Obviously, we had to endure some touristy things, but I was more interested in Amsterdam’s history rather than the excitement of its relaxed rules.
So we found a “free” walking tour of the city. Now, again, free doesn’t mean ‘free’. It means that they want you to go on the tour, and then pay what you think afterwards, no these tours are always the best, because they are trying their hardest to please you, so that you feel obliged to pay more. So, in a way it is a good thing, but make sure you have a few five’s and ten’s, instead of 20’s, so that you don’t have to ask the guide to change a 50e note for you. These Sandeman’s/360/Gnine tours happen all over Europe, and they are made up of ‘freelance’ tour guides.
At 11h20 we started the walking tour of Amsterdam, our guide, Robbert, a local himself, was one of the best tour guides I have had. The tour took around 3 and a half hours, and I am not even going to try to explain what we did, there was so much information, and so many places that we saw, anything from the Anne Frank house, as he told us her story, and some history behind the publishing of the diary, to the smallest house in Amsterdam (or the world?), to walking through the Red-Light District. I highly recommend the walking tours, even though they still cost a little, they are more engaging, and the tour guides are more interested in showing you the place.
Afterwards, Beny and I went to the Mankkekan Pis, Amsterdam’s famous frite-maker. They were delicious, however I regretted eating them afterwards. I NEED FRUIT. Cannot find fruit here. We sat on the side of the canal and ate our frites, and looked at where to go next, as were starting to get tired.
A little known tourist place is the Amsterdam National Archives. An amazing place, it used to be a bank, and has now been refurbished to hold and display some interesting photos, facts, and documents that add weight to some Amsterdam/Holland’s (at times) sad and crazy history.
Inside the vault, you walk through the big safe doors, and into this ornate (reminded me of a more subtle version of Gatsby) two story room. And a second room in the vault had a cinema, where we watched the historical and a little disturbing footage of the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam.
Beny and I were slowly falling asleep in the comfy chairs, so we left for the hostel to check in finally and have an HOUR nap.
The festival was no where near as big as I thought it would be. I genuinely thought a lot more buildings, bridges and things in general would be lit up. However, it was a nice way to walk around the city center and discover Amsterdam in a different way.
Afterwards we went and found a burger place. Pulled pork for dinner, and my tummy was satisfied with the choices I had made. We made the long trek back to the most boring hostel I have ever been too. If you are going to Amsterdam, pay a little extra and stay at a youth hostel closer to the city center, not at WOW Amsterdam, as it was just filled with families with little kids, and had nothing interesting planned.
Saturday
So we had a good sleep-in. I got up and went to the plainest breakfast on earth, but there was a nice range of Dutch cheese to choose from, so bread, cheese and coffee again for breakfast.
After doing a small amount of homework at breakfast I went back upstairs to find out that a man had followed me upstairs to my room.
“Put some shoes on!” I had been followed by one of the Hostel’s receptionists who wanted to discretely tell me that I needed to wear shoes at all times. But then he heard my accent and asked where I was from, to which he replied with, ‘I am from the Commonwealth as well!’ For the whole time I have been on exchange, no one has related to where I come from with the Commonwealth. Ha! I have no idea what country he is from, just that he lives somewhere in the Commonwealth. We had a little chat about the going on’s in politics (as you do), and this was the only interesting interaction I had at the hostel.
We checked out and went into town. Our first point of call was the North Markets, which had been recommend by the tour guide the previous day. They were FABULOUS! So much to look at, taste and buy. I bough a pair of gloves, because my little fingers where frozen to the core. I got the finger-less gloves that had the little cover than comes over the top to make mittens.
In the markets we found a guy making fresh Stoopwafel, which is like a really, really thin waffle with cinnamon that is cut in half and caramel is layered in between the two slices. I had nutella though, because I am a nutella addict and I hate caramel.
It was so sweet that I didn’t finish it, but the Dutch have so many sweet things on offer.
After we walked to a ‘coffee shop’, which basically is a colloquial term for ‘where to buy the weeds’. I’m hip. I’m hop.
We walked into this place called Serbie, very up-market looked place. Now you have to realize, Cannabis is not totally legal in Amsterdam, its more or less, just pushed to the side… On tax it is listed as ‘other forms of income’, so basically they don’t care, but if your being annoying to the police, they could nab you. The whole café was in a ploom of smoke, I looked like a fish out of water, just standing there.
Afterwards we went to Amsteram Centraal, yes spelt with 2 A’s. I am not crazy. We caught a boat from there, which is free, as it basically carts people across the main river to the other side of Amsterdam. We ended up going to the EYE museum, which I highly recommend also, as it is free, and there are not many people there, because it is a bit out of the way compared to the other museums. In the collection, it holds great clips from historical and famous movies, documentaries, and the old camera equipment used.
We ended up watching ‘West Side Story’, I applaud Beny for sitting though the whole film, and enjoying it (I think?).
After that we went and got something to eat before going back to the hostel, as it was around 5:30pm and I had a bus to catch to Berlin at 7:30pm. It was so cold and wet outside, the weather had turned from OK in the morning, to edging on a storm.
Said goodbye to Beny and left for the bus.
When I got to the bus, only 10 people got on, so it was roomy, however, for the first time ever, Flixbus wouldn’t allow me to take on my carry-on bag, therefore I couldn’t charge my phone, study on my laptop or anything, so I proceeded to act like a child when they talked to me, aka, crossed my arms and looked out the window and ignored them. I was so tired and upset.
Sunday
Because I wasn’t allowed to have my bag, I couldn’t charge anything, so my phone ran flat. hence, the journey from the bus station to the metro to the hostel was interesting. I can proudly say, that I navigated my way without the use of technology, just pure paper maps. Took me an hour, but I got there.
The hostel let me check in super early because the bed was empty! So I had a shower and then went downstairs and had a lovely breakfast looking out over some abandoned buildings of which were covered in graffiti. SO much to look at. Afterwards I went into Brandenburger Tor, which is one of the remaining gates to the City of Berlin. The actual city of Berlin is only 800 years old, which in the scheme of things is quite young.
After a bit of waking around and getting my bearings, I recommend a day metro ticket (access to all modes of transport for 6.80e), I attended a 3 hour tour of the town. The tour guide was Australian, from Melbourne (aren’t they all?), and she had a very thick Australian accent, especially for living overseas for so long. Anyway the tour was amazing, yet again. All hostels you go to in major cities around the world should have pamphlets on ‘free’ tours (not free, liars, bastards) that operate a few times every day of the week.
She also had the same Paton Red Dr Martins as I do, except hers didn’t look like she had accidentally run over them with a lawnmower.
So the weather was awful. I literally nearly gave-up and went back to the hostel. I just can’t do this cold weather. and when it rained, it pierce your skin.
We went all over the city, and the kind of information she had stored away in her head was amazing. She had dates square on, to the month and day. I always forget the exact day of things in the WWI and WWII. So we started at the Brandenbuger Tor, which was convenient for me, and then we went around to the Jewish memorial, which has a free museum commemorating the murdered Jews in the WWII. Unfortunately for me, it has been closed down due to ‘technical difficulties’.
The photo with the statue depicts the silhouette of a man, Johann Georg Elser, who committed treason, as he attempted to murder Hitler. He tried to use bombs, as Hitler apparently used to talk for an hour or so, the bombs had been timed, however, Hitler ended his speech early that day and left the building, the bomb went off killing around 13 Nazi’s. The man was caught, sent to concentration camps and later executed for this deed.
I also visited the Berlin wall, well the remnants of that. there are bits and pieces all around Berlin, some are in their original place, and some pieces of the wall are on exhibition, covered in street art, not graffiti, street art. In the image, beyond that wall there are exposed bunkers that the SS used to interrogate and also torture people. Isn’t is weird how people are killed for their beliefs? What a silly concept that couldn’t ever possibly happen in today’s era…
I studied the World War’s all through primary and High-school, but it just doesn’t seem real until you are confronted by the fact that you are standing where Hitler was burnt just after his suicide, the bunker still exists, however, the German government is worried that opening it to the public may encourage a sort of pilgrimage from Neo-Nazis, which are a very real risk. But the bunker was/is a enormous underground building.
I went and found a sneaky Bratwurst in bread at the Christmas markets, and the just found myself walking from Market to Market. Over 60 Christmas markets are being held in Berlin at the moment.
I spent the rest of the evening walking around and I eventually just had a Camembert bretzel with chives for dinner. Sorry for this being so long, I left quite a few things out. Until next time to carry on with the last day of Berlin;
“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”
~Anita Desai~
X.