Day 78 of the project,
on the ferry to Dubrovnik, Croatia
An American, an Englishman and an Australian sit in a hostel bar in Vienna, steins of beer in hand. Conversation ranges from travel to music to politics. Especially politics. There is nothing more entertaining than testing an American on his or her knowledge of world affairs. Gentle ribbing aside, their native language allowed the three drinkers to easily exchange and debate ideas well into the early morning hours.
Language is also a reflection of a person's worldview. As with most native English speakers, I enjoy orderly queues, on-time departures, formal education and relative privilege within the globalized 21st century world. Yet my American perspective is often as clear as my accent. It is as simple as wearing pants (not trousers), taking the elevator (not the lift), attending college (not uni or university) and having friends (not mates). It is as complex as not having a current attachment to monarchy or officially sharing a currency with other independent nations.
September 23, 2014
September 21, 2014
White noise
Day 76 of the project,
Vis, Croatia
"Your schedule has been very aggressive, Jenn. It makes me tired listening to it."
"It's not so bad. I see the highlights in every city. It is like the tapas version of Eastern Europe."
"You need to slow down."
Much as I hate to admit it, my German friend was right. For almost three full weeks, I had bounced from capital city to capital city without spending more than three full days in any given location. And while I had seen the major sights in six countries, it was starting to become white noise. The tipping point was when I purposefully avoided the art museum in Budapest...something I would never do in my ordinary traveling life. As a lovely Welsh acquaintance said so eloquently, "You need a vacation from your vacation."
So upon the advice from three different people hailing from three different countries, I chose the coastal delights of Croatia to slow down. I arrived in Split on an overnight train from Ljubljana, ready to fill the prescribed dose of tranquility. As the sun rose over the water, I leaned out the train window and allowed the salty air to fill my lungs. I was ready for some sunshine, bikinis, aquamarine water and beach bars. And unofficially, I was ready to face my new personal reality.
Vis, Croatia
"Your schedule has been very aggressive, Jenn. It makes me tired listening to it."
"It's not so bad. I see the highlights in every city. It is like the tapas version of Eastern Europe."
"You need to slow down."
Much as I hate to admit it, my German friend was right. For almost three full weeks, I had bounced from capital city to capital city without spending more than three full days in any given location. And while I had seen the major sights in six countries, it was starting to become white noise. The tipping point was when I purposefully avoided the art museum in Budapest...something I would never do in my ordinary traveling life. As a lovely Welsh acquaintance said so eloquently, "You need a vacation from your vacation."
So upon the advice from three different people hailing from three different countries, I chose the coastal delights of Croatia to slow down. I arrived in Split on an overnight train from Ljubljana, ready to fill the prescribed dose of tranquility. As the sun rose over the water, I leaned out the train window and allowed the salty air to fill my lungs. I was ready for some sunshine, bikinis, aquamarine water and beach bars. And unofficially, I was ready to face my new personal reality.
Foodie report #3 - Eastern European capitals
Day 76 of the project,
Vis, Croatia
In the first two and a half weeks of September, I sprinted through five major cities in Central and Eastern Europe. Each city had its own distinct culture and history along with beautiful collections of castles, palaces, art, gardens and museums. It was simultaneously overwhelming and invigorating to absorb so much in such a short time. But rather than attempt to share every detail of each city (which I believe my Instagram feed does a far more effective job), I am choosing to share the gastronomical highlights.
Vis, Croatia
In the first two and a half weeks of September, I sprinted through five major cities in Central and Eastern Europe. Each city had its own distinct culture and history along with beautiful collections of castles, palaces, art, gardens and museums. It was simultaneously overwhelming and invigorating to absorb so much in such a short time. But rather than attempt to share every detail of each city (which I believe my Instagram feed does a far more effective job), I am choosing to share the gastronomical highlights.
September 14, 2014
Sound of music
Day 68 of the project,
on the train somewhere between Budapest and Ljubljana
Vienna, or Wien, as it is actually called in German, brings many superlatives to a traveler's lips. Gorgeous Baroque and Rococo architecture that has been immaculately maintained. Stunning museums that showcase incredible volumes of significant artwork. Delicious foods (hello Wiener schnitzel and sacher tort) in adorable cafes. Beer and wine galore. Opera and choirs in every theater.
However, for this traveler, my memory of Austria is anchored in music. I am not a classical music connoisseur, but there is something magical about the symphony. My timing in Vienna could not have been better; the annual classical music festival at the Grafenegg was coming to a close. The finale was definitely a special performance. Not only was the world-renowned Vienna philharmonic orchestra performing, but the guest conductor was the very famous Venezuelan Gustav Dudamel (on loan from the Los Angeles philharmonic). And the Grafenegg itself was an amazing draw--a beautiful castle with a brand new, state-of-the-art outdoor amphitheater about 40 minutes outside of Vienna. I was shocked it was not sold out.
on the train somewhere between Budapest and Ljubljana
Vienna, or Wien, as it is actually called in German, brings many superlatives to a traveler's lips. Gorgeous Baroque and Rococo architecture that has been immaculately maintained. Stunning museums that showcase incredible volumes of significant artwork. Delicious foods (hello Wiener schnitzel and sacher tort) in adorable cafes. Beer and wine galore. Opera and choirs in every theater.
However, for this traveler, my memory of Austria is anchored in music. I am not a classical music connoisseur, but there is something magical about the symphony. My timing in Vienna could not have been better; the annual classical music festival at the Grafenegg was coming to a close. The finale was definitely a special performance. Not only was the world-renowned Vienna philharmonic orchestra performing, but the guest conductor was the very famous Venezuelan Gustav Dudamel (on loan from the Los Angeles philharmonic). And the Grafenegg itself was an amazing draw--a beautiful castle with a brand new, state-of-the-art outdoor amphitheater about 40 minutes outside of Vienna. I was shocked it was not sold out.
Philharmonic orchestra just before intermission. Photo courtesy of Cody Christopher
September 10, 2014
Behind the name
Day 65 of the project,
somewhere between Bratislava and Budapest
In the United States, Gbur is not a typical last name. Its unusual combination of consonants and lack of vowels trouble the tongues of most English speakers. There is usually the inevitable pause while someone decides how to vocalize those four letters. I am used to it...after all, I have had thirty years of corrections, spelling examples and references to Zsa Zsa and Ava.
But what is in a name? Language? Ethnicity? Geography? Social class? It can be some, all or none of these. Above all, a family name conveys a history. An artifact of those who came before you and the foundations of those who will come after you. Some people are well versed in the background of their names--ties back to castles, crests and pride. Other histories have been buried in the shadows of war, poverty and xenophobia.
somewhere between Bratislava and Budapest
In the United States, Gbur is not a typical last name. Its unusual combination of consonants and lack of vowels trouble the tongues of most English speakers. There is usually the inevitable pause while someone decides how to vocalize those four letters. I am used to it...after all, I have had thirty years of corrections, spelling examples and references to Zsa Zsa and Ava.
But what is in a name? Language? Ethnicity? Geography? Social class? It can be some, all or none of these. Above all, a family name conveys a history. An artifact of those who came before you and the foundations of those who will come after you. Some people are well versed in the background of their names--ties back to castles, crests and pride. Other histories have been buried in the shadows of war, poverty and xenophobia.
September 4, 2014
Great expectations
Day 59 of the project,
somewhere between Prague and Vienna
To my beautiful San Francisco,
It is me again, your beloved expatriate. On yet another continent, I have met your older brother! Sure, Lisbon is not your official "sibling city" as defined by UNESCO or some other organization. But there are so many similarities. Like you, Lisbon has steep hills with stairs to match and sublime views from various miradoras. The trams and light rail rattle through his streets much like yours. Not to mention a (shorter) version of your Golden Gate Bridge...gleaming in the low light of sunset.
But unlike Valparaiso, my heart was not swayed. Lisbon is like an older, dignified but slightly shabby gentleman with the melancholy of someone who has lost so much. You can hear it in the fado sung in the streets late a night. You can see it in the political graffiti. The streets exude the passion of an empire whose colonial glory days are a distant memory in the harsh limelight of current economic struggles.
somewhere between Prague and Vienna
To my beautiful San Francisco,
It is me again, your beloved expatriate. On yet another continent, I have met your older brother! Sure, Lisbon is not your official "sibling city" as defined by UNESCO or some other organization. But there are so many similarities. Like you, Lisbon has steep hills with stairs to match and sublime views from various miradoras. The trams and light rail rattle through his streets much like yours. Not to mention a (shorter) version of your Golden Gate Bridge...gleaming in the low light of sunset.
But unlike Valparaiso, my heart was not swayed. Lisbon is like an older, dignified but slightly shabby gentleman with the melancholy of someone who has lost so much. You can hear it in the fado sung in the streets late a night. You can see it in the political graffiti. The streets exude the passion of an empire whose colonial glory days are a distant memory in the harsh limelight of current economic struggles.
September 3, 2014
My way to St. James
Day 58 of the project,
Prague, Czech Republic
Each person walks their own camino on the Way of St. James. Though there are definitely some distinct categories. A few dedicated Catholic souls walk the Camino for the original religious ritual. Some people simply want a holiday of walking the countryside. Others are looking for a fitness challenge. Many more are seeking spiritual (though not necessarily religious) guidance or insight. It can be all or none of these reasons.
My camino started as intrigue ten years ago during my study abroad in Alicante. A Spanish friend told me about an ancient pilgrimage route that Christians took to worship the remains of St. James. While it sounded like an adventure, my thoughts at the time were decidedly focused on Italy. Over the years, I've heard snippets from people and the media about the Camino de Santiago. Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez even made a movie about the Way. But ultimately I decided to undertake the Camino as a way of reconnecting with myself during my six month adventure. So if one wishes to classify my pilgrimage, it was a spiritual journey. A good short summation.
Prague, Czech Republic
Each person walks their own camino on the Way of St. James. Though there are definitely some distinct categories. A few dedicated Catholic souls walk the Camino for the original religious ritual. Some people simply want a holiday of walking the countryside. Others are looking for a fitness challenge. Many more are seeking spiritual (though not necessarily religious) guidance or insight. It can be all or none of these reasons.
My camino started as intrigue ten years ago during my study abroad in Alicante. A Spanish friend told me about an ancient pilgrimage route that Christians took to worship the remains of St. James. While it sounded like an adventure, my thoughts at the time were decidedly focused on Italy. Over the years, I've heard snippets from people and the media about the Camino de Santiago. Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez even made a movie about the Way. But ultimately I decided to undertake the Camino as a way of reconnecting with myself during my six month adventure. So if one wishes to classify my pilgrimage, it was a spiritual journey. A good short summation.
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