Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

Not all those who wander are lost. – J.R. Tolkien

Europe.

I wore a Canada flag on my back. I laughed. I wore men’s wool socks for days on end. I was threatened. I wore sandals, but I mostly wore boots. I got wet. I felt fortunate to be where I was. I did the awkward backpacker run wearing packs on both my front and back. I thought about my family. I went to bed at 8pm and I went to bed at 8am. I travelled by plane, train and automobile. And by boat. I slept in the airport. I slept in a doctor’s clinic. I slept on floors, too-short couches, bunk beds, hide-a-beds and queen-sized beds. I shared beds and I slept alone. I drank wine – red, white, sparkling and mulled. I drank beer – cold and warm. I choked on Akvavit. I ate pickled herring, chocolate sprinkles on bread, fresh fish off the bone, schnitzel, Lefse, waffles, pizza, and goulash. I smiled to myself. I acquired a taste for coffee – black coffee, even (you finally did it Lasse)! I experienced acts of great kindness and great generosity – some when I least expected, but most needed them. I was very nearly run over by a bicycle – not in Denmark, and not in Holland, but in Italy (that would have been embarrassing). I took hundreds of photos. I met Canadians thanks to our red mittens. At times, I exercised great restraint in not shopping. On the other hand, I bought more than a dozen pairs of earrings. I saw dogs sitting in restaurants, and old women making lace with amazingly dextrous fingers. I experienced my first Christmas away from home. I read books. I listened to hours of music. I cycled in packs of dozens around cities webbed in bike paths. I learned how to eat a slice of pizza the Italian way. I decided that the benefits of earplugs outweigh the initial discomfort they cause. I saw people drinking beer in restaurants at 10am before the food menu was available. I learned to ride the green wave. I was asked for directions – from locals as well as tourists – in nearly every country I visited. I said thank you in eleven languages (Danish, Dutch, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Norwegian, French, Italian, Czech, Hungarian… and English). I bragged about what a great “little” brother I have. I went to my first opera in a beautiful building with a ticket that cost $2.50. I bought coffee for $2.50. I paid $30 for half a large pizza in Norway. I paid $30 for a flight from Paris to Rome. I saw chapels so large that I was overwhelmed, so beautiful that my jaw hung open. I saw people praying in these chapels, and I saw people scamming outside them. I spent more days in sunshine than in rain. I cried. I saw pubs that were many times older than the nation of Canada. I was granted my wish for a white Christmas. I got peeped on in the shower. I heard music in the streets – classical, jazz, hip-hop, bagpipe, acoustic, folk, didgeridoo, one-man band, string ensembles and big bands. I sent postcards. I lived in a house with a mouse. I learned that cross-country skiing is more extreme outside the flatlands of Manitoba. I went without a cell phone. I saw homeless people and their dogs out on the street, but also saw a type of wealth that I’d never been exposed to. I walked more kilometres than I can fathom a guess at. I saw roads, oceans, fields, and mountains. I learned more about WWII than I ever did in school. I explained the location of Winnipeg to countless people. I saw lovers all over – not just in Paris. I climbed innumerable stairs. I was moved by art. I saw former cities that had all but tumbled to the ground. I was left out of conversations that took place in languages that I did not understand. I saw names carved and written on tables, bunk beds, gravesites, and walls. I hugged. I kissed cheeks once, twice, three times. I met a few undesirables, but I met far, far more incredible people. I fell in love with people, with places, with cultures. I strengthened friendships that I already considered to be great.

I spent five months and one week exploring seventeen countries.

To all the friends I visited along the way, I could never thank you enough, so instead I extend an open invitation to visit me in Canada whenever it suits you. I promise to return the hospitality, and I can’t wait to see you all again.

I adore travelling, but I am a prairie girl at heart. I love Canada. I love Winnipeg. I love the prairie skies.

I may be wandering, but I’m not lost.

Sending all my love, from home.

(Photo: Lasse Lyck)

The Penultimate Entry

Given that Copenhagen was my European home, it was the obvious choice for my last place to visit. After having already seen the touristy attractions, I was free to simply enjoy the great city and my great company, which included Ida from Norway, Kolla, Birna and Maggy from Iceland, Camilla from Finland, Lasse the great Dane, and of course, Alma – my beautiful bicycle.

The Swedish artist Robyn was singing in concert on the Saturday evening, and so the lovely Ida arrived from Norway the same day I arrived from Budapest. I spent the evening having a few drinks and eating lasagna with the boys of Rentemestervej, but Friday morning I took Alma to meet Ida and Camilla for a superbly expensive cup of coffee. The day turned into one of those relaxed affairs that consisted of sitting, drinking, eating, catching up and laughing; one of those wonderful days when your stomach aches from all the laughing.

Ida and I.

Camilla left Ida and me drinking our coffee to head to work, and Kolla joined us for lunch. While we were still sitting in the restaurant, we received an invitation to join Maggy at his flat to take part in the eating of the chocolate cake he was currently baking. The cake was magnificent. Then once Birna showed up and Camilla returned, pizza, several bottles of wine, and much loud singing somehow followed the cake… though I believe the cake also made a late-night appearance. Oh, that cake...

Maggy belting out Elephant Love Medley

On Saturday, Lasse and I headed over to Kasper’s Mom’s hat shop to help out with some spring cleaning chores, and then rewarded our job well done with a canal tour. The girls were hanging around Nyhavn when the boat docked, and we headed out for dinner. Birna and I biked to the concert venue and arrived a good half an hour before the rest of the group. Fortunately, we had a bottle of wine to keep us warm.

The Little Mermaid from the canal tour.

Before Robyn.

My Alma.

The concert was great fun, and a huge bonus for me as Camilla had found me a ticket the day before. Robyn even wrapped up her final encore with a slowed-down version of Show Me Love.

We rolled out of bed on Sunday in time for a delicious brunch at a place called Stella. I’ve been there several times, but I still find it amusing given my fondness for Stella’s, Winnipeg. After saying goodbye to Ida, I wandered around town with Birna and Maggy before ending up in Christiania to enjoy the sunshine and the people-watching.

My last few days passed by in a bit of a blur. Lasse was busy with school, so I amused myself during the daytime reading and drinking coffee in cafes, biking around with Alma, and one day visiting the outstanding Louisiana Museum of Modern Art. I’ve seen a lot of museums over the past few months, and I’m admittedly a bit museum-ed out. However Louisiana more than proved worthy of a visit. It was definitely one of favourite museums, with a fantastic collection of art and an excellent temporary exhibition on Picasso. Even the architecture of the building and the location itself were wonderful.

The Louisiana Museum of Modern Art

Louise Bourgeois

"Get up girl, a sun is running the world."

Rush hour in Copenhagen.

On my last night, Lasse and I made dinner for the household. We made dessert too – zucchini cake. And when Lasse realized that he didn’t have any cinnamon in the house, we made cinnamon “from scratch”. Luckily, he had cinnamon sticks, which were first grinded with some sort of electric contraption, then handed over to me along with a mortar and pestle, and finally sifted into the cake batter. Certainly it was the best cinnamon zucchini cake I’ve ever tasted.

Dinner prep mess.

And now, somehow, I am home again. I was a bit restless on my flights given that flying west meant following the daylight the whole way. But I made it. I am back in Winnipeg.

Jerry was waiting.

The past five months have been an incredible journey, even if I say so myself. It’s good to be home, I think. A bit strange of course, but good. The sky is beautiful, my bed is comfortable, there is peanut butter in the cupboard, hockey on television, and trees, trees, trees on every street. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the clothing in my closet. I have to practice recalling what day of the week it is. I found that I did not forget how to drive while I was away – it’s like riding a bike in that sense. However, riding a bike is way better.

Thanks for everything Europe, you were pretty great.

Sending love from Canada.

Budapesht

As my last new destination, Budapest impressed.

I started my visit by withdrawing a very impressive-sounding 40 000 Hungarian forints, which is approximately 200 Canadian dollars. Luckily, I had investigated into the value of the forint; otherwise I would have been totally lost. As it was, after dropping off my gear at the hostel and heading for dinner with a couple of Canadian girls, I was still quite confused about the conversion rate. “Dinner is 2250? How much is that?” Luckily, one of the other girls had a clue, and after some longhand math, we were able to divide the very reasonably priced bill from our delicious dinner.

Hungarian forints.

Following dinner, I went with the girls on my first of several walks along the Danube River. The river separates the Eastern Pest from the Western Buda – though the two unified in 1873. At night, much of both sides and the bridges that cross the river are lit up to outline a spectacular skyline.

The Chain Bridge and Danube River.

Melinda, Trish and I on the Chain Bridge.

The next day was a beautiful, sunny day (I know I sound repetitive, but I’ve truly had amazing luck with the weather). It was also a Sunday, which in Europe means that many things are closed. However, one of the benefits of travelling for a longer period of time is that I do not have to cram my sightseeing. I like watching and listening to new cities. Days spent wandering around getting a feel for the city, people-watching and sitting at a café drinking a cup of tea and reading my book have been some of my favourite days.

It was probably for the best I took that Sunday easy, as Sun-night was spent experiencing the Budapest nightlife with a couple of American guys and one French-Canadian. We drank wine. We searched out a couple of difficult-to-find night locales. We played foosball (Canada won). We drank beer. We danced. It was a great night out. It was also a late night out, which resulted in the perfect set-up to spend the next afternoon at a bathhouse.

The boys try to get us on track.

It was a balmy 20 degrees when we finally made our way from the hostel through the sunny streets to the bathhouse of choice (Széchenyi – but don’t ask me how to pronounce it). We spent most of our time in the outdoor baths, as it only made sense to do on such a nice day. The baths varied from 27-38 degrees, came in a variety of shapes and sizes, and also held people of all shapes and sizes. It was a very relaxing way to spend the afternoon.

The walk to the baths.

Made it!

On March 15^th, the Hungarians celebrate the National Holiday, Revolution Day. So once again, many things were closed. However, it was another outstanding day, and I believe the whole of Budapest was out enjoying the weather and the celebrations. There were bands out playing Hungarian folk music and people dancing the Hungarian folk dances. Food and merchandise booths were set up all over the Buda side of the river, and the delicious smells of lángos (a sort of deep-fried pizza), roasting onions and warm chimney cakes filled the streets. Children’s games were set up in one of the squares, tended by Hungarians in traditional dress, and watched over by the cameras of the nearby parents. It was a pretty neat day for observing.

Back over the Chain Bridge on Revolution Day.

Folk music and dance.

Of course, the big event of my last day was seeing Norma, the opera in the stunning Hungarian State Opera House, but I have already shared that experience.

I’m now sitting “at home” in Copenhagen, and it’s been nice to come home to one of my favourite places in Europe. I’ve been here since Thursday, but after a busy and excellent weekend, this is the best chance I’ve had to write my near-to-last blog (for this trip anyways).

I’m right back where I started five months ago. At least, I am physically right back where I started five months ago. Four days left. See you soon.

Sending love from Denmark!

Operatic Observations

1.    I attended my first opera this evening. I saw Norma at the Hungarian State Opera House. I bought my ticket for 500 ft… or €1.82… or $2.50 Cdn!

2.    I’ve become used to the fact that in Europe when they say “second floor”, they mean the third level. This is due to their labelling ground floor as zero. However, when I found my seat tonight, I counted ground floor, and then one, two, three balconies to where I was seated. New heights for a “second floor” ticket.

"Second floor" in the beautiful Hungarian State Opera House.

3.    As it turns out, a ticket worth $2.50 will get you in the door of the beautiful Opera House. It will certainly get you within earshot of the singers. However, it will only afford you a view of about half the stage… NOT that I am complaining.

My view.

4.    Speaking of “within earshot”, no microphones? These singers have pipes.

5.    Judging solely from this event, opera singers seem to have a very different average body type than ballet dancers… or even concert musicians for that matter.

6.    To the lady sitting in front of me: unwrapping hard candies during any show is annoying, but if you must do it, then at least have the common sense to wait until there is a crescendo.

7.    So, the opera was in Italian. I do not know if it is common practice to include sub-titles. This opera was sub-titled. However, as would be expected, it was sub-titled in Hungarian, and the language – with its 17 extra letters – leaves me feeling a bit baffled. I did read the English synopsis, so had a general idea of what was going on.

8.    Despite not always being clear of the story, and despite only being able to see half of the stage, I still thoroughly enjoyed myself. I could hear the music – orchestra and singers – perfectly, and that seems to be the most important part.

9.    I did not understand a word sung, but it is true that you can emote with the singers. It was pretty neat, and I would visit the Opera again… though only after I save some money, since I may never find a deal like this one again!

I arrived “home” to find that I’m currently the only one in my hostel, and it is quite odd, as well as a funny coincidence for my final night in a hostel (for this trip, at any rate). I suddenly remember how odd it was to go home after I travelled last time and finally be sleeping in a bedroom by myself. I can use tonight as preparation. At least no one is snoring.

Still sleeping on a top bunk, despite the 7 other empty beds in the room.

Copenhagen tomorrow; one more time.

Sending love from Hungary!

Feel So Bohemian

Prague jumped right up into my favourite cities list. There were so many things that contributed to my appreciation for the city, that even after five months on the road, Prague made the travel seem fresh again.

I enjoyed the crowded commotion on the Charles Bridge: the professional buskers – one-man-band, Didgeridoo, bridge band; the many different types of tourists; the view of the castle and the view of the city skyline; the many, many jewellery stands just begging me to buy earrings, and; the stands with photos, with paintings adding even more colour to the already sunny days. And at night, black and white and yellow, lit by the old-fashioned street lamps and lined with the dark figures of the many saintly statues. I crossed that bridge quite a few times.

Across the Charles Bridge from the city, I found the Lennon Wall coloured with yellow submarines, peace signs, John Lennon’s face, scribbled names and Beatles lyrics. Though much less famous than Abbey Road, I still enjoyed spending time reading those scribbles, nodding to myself in agreeance that love is all you need.

The view of the castle from the city was wonderful. Sometimes I wonder if my treks up 287, 354, 422 spiralling stairs are necessary in every city, but without fail, every time I climb up those 287, 354, 422 spiralling stairs, I am pleased with the result. The view of the city from the Cathedral on the grounds was also wonderful.

View of the castle.

View from the Cathedral tower.

I discovered a "Shakespeare" bookstore that I enjoyed nearly as much as the one in Paris, if less for the ambiance and more for the giant used books section. I discovered a spot at the edge of the river where I could sit and read, sheltered from the wind and in view of the Charles Bridge. I bumped into Carnival celebrations and people dressed up as gorillas, horses, chiefs, and clowns. I visited the Pinkas Synagogue which had the names and lifespans of all the Czech victims of the Holocaust written on the walls. The Synagogue also housed a collection of artwork created by the children who had been living in the ghetto. I recognized a "colour spectrum" drawn by a child that I had also replicated as a child. It hit very close to home, and was a very moving visit. The Old Jewish Cemetery outside the Cathedral contains layered tombs with about 100 000 buried, but only 12 000 gravestones. I even took in a ballet at one of the many theatres. The Best of Swan Lake was playing, and I enjoyed seeing it after all the hype about Black Swan this year - even if I was disappointed by the lack of live orchestra. 

My favourite spot.

The old Jewish Cemetery.

I visited the nearby town of Kutna Hora to see the Sedlec Ossuary that is decorated with the bones of humans. Whereas the Catacombes in Paris were unique, purposeful and creepy, I found this cathedral to be a bit strange, and even gaudy. The architect even “signed” his name near the entrance with bones.

The bizarre signature.

I enjoyed the company of a couple of British guys and a girl from Seattle. And on my last day I met a Canadian girl on the street. We chatted for several minutes and she decided to meet me at the pub I was planning to visit to hear some jazz. Random meetings like that are one of my favourite things about travelling and we had a great evening listening to Stan the Man’s Bohemian Band play their blues in a tiny basement bar.

Stan the Man

Lauren (from Vancouver) and I.

And then I hopped on a bus to Vienna, where speaking of random meetings, I stayed with a lovely German couple whom I met in Bruges in February. Susie and Matthias opened their home to me without hesitation and I had a wonderful time both exploring Vienna and getting to know the two of them better.

The evening I arrived, Susie had lecture, but Matthias picked me up at the bus station and then relayed specific instructions from Susie that the “best gift you can give a backpacker is a bath.” It certainly was quite a treat, and then we prepared sushi for dinner while we waited for Susie to get home.

The weather was lovely the days I was in Vienna, and we did a lot of bike-riding and strolling through the city. I visited a couple of museums – The Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art and the Wien Museum. We ate delicious Pakistani food from a place where you “pay as you wish.” We drank coffee in fancy Viennese coffee houses and kitschy student coffee houses. We ordered pizza and watched a movie with their flatmates for a Friday night in. I tried a traditional Austrian cake that is cut into cubes and dunked in bright pink icing. And we wandered amongst the thousands of treasures at the Saturday morning flea market.

Town hall in the distance.

The fleamarket.

It was a very relaxing visit, at a time in my trip when I am down-shifting for home. It was certainly a happy experience meeting Susie and Mattias, and a neat addition to my trip to be able to visit them so quickly after our initial meeting.

I’ve been in Budapest for the past three days already, and I will be here until Thursday, the 17^th. From there, I’m going back to Copenhagen – “home sweet Rentemestervej” – where I started five months ago. Then come March 24^th, it’ll be "home sweet Makinak" when I arrive back in Winnipeg.

I have mixed feelings about this return, though I am certainly looking forward to having a home again, and to seeing my family and friends. However, I’ll save my reflections for another blog.

Sending love from Hungary!