Back in the USA

I've officially left the European continent, and according to Homeland Security, fit to remain in the United States. The past week, my last week, was great, and the majority of it was spent in the financial hub that is Switzerland. After a short stint in Geneva, I headed to Interlaken, which is a small town that lies in the gateway to the largest peaks in the Alps. Wednesday was my only full day there, and I took advantage of it by training into the mountains a ways before heading up on a hike.

The view from the valley town of Lauderbrunnen was already amazing, with steep walls lining on the west and east and thin, tall waterfalls shooting down the mountainside towards the river below. The hike from there to the town of Wengen wasn't too bad, as most of it was tree-covered, and it was over in about an hour. I even ran into a fellow Wisconsinite, which has happened more often than you would think over here.

After Wengen, I had a feeling the hike would get a bit harder, as the squiggly line on my map leading to Mannlichen was the same length as the one I had just hiked, and yet it had an estimated climb time of over three hours. The mountain path began across railroad tracks. Beyond that, there was something of a Swiss postcard. Dozens of big, brown and white cows lying and standing in the hillside, their huge bells swinging under their necks and ringing in different tones and frequencies, like some cowbell orchestra. Even Bruce Dickinson would've been satisfied.

Around this time the cloud cover started to dissipate quite a bit and the sun was hot. For a while, the spots of trees between the big grass fields provided cover, but two hours into the hike I was above the treeline, and the trail was pretty much just rocks, and it was hot. So I was relieved when I reached Mannilichen and the clouds rolled over again. A short climb brought me to the Mannilichen peak, which offered a great view of the surrounding valleys.

It looked as if it might rain, but I was fairly confident I could make the hour-plus hike to the next town, so I headed out, and I was right, by about five minutes. The rain, and eventually hail, started coming down hard about that long after I boarded the train down the mountain.

The next morning I packed up and took a long boat ride across Thunsee toward Thun, where I would catch a train to Bern to meet up with a friend. It was a nice boat ride, so nice, in fact, that I eventually fell asleep and woke up with bright red kneecaps. Sunburnt kneecaps hurt a bit in the morning.

It was great to see Flo again in Bern, and later Luzern. Flo, Barry, and I spent most of the time eating, drinking, and chatting while walking around the cities. Apart from the inevitable nightly rain, the last few days in Switzerland were quite nice.

I boarded a night train in Basel, and woke up in my couchette at 5:30 to the sound of crying baby, which I only slightly prefer to my own alarm. On top of that, the train was running two hours late, which is out of character for a German train. I eventually arrived in Utrecht, checked into my hostel, the same hostel I checked into six months previous when I first arrived in the city, and dropped my bags off, before heading to the Dutch countryside to meet Barry's sister for the rest of my bags. And of course, my new wooden shoes.

I spent the afternoon walking around the city I'd grown fond of over the past half-year, and it was a little rainy. I also didn't really know anyone that was still around, and I even got a little turned around a bit south of the Dom. So in some ways, it felt a lot like my first day in Utrecht. I had a few Belgian biers at Cafe Belgie, and tried to ignore the fact that the PBR still sitting in my garage fridge at home wasn't going to hold a candle to what I had in front of me then.

I eventually made it back to the hostel, and I woke up early, with no problems getting to the train station, and getting through airport security with three carry-ons thanks to a little sneakiness.

And now I'm safely back in Green Bay, and getting used to everything again. It's not hard, but I react a bit differently to certain things. I had really gotten used to hearing passing conversations in Dutch, and I would have to make an effort to listen had I wanted to understand the topic. But now I'm back to hearing all sorts of shit I don't want to. Driving is a bit of a disappointment, I was hoping it would be harder.

But of course, I'm happy to be back for the same reasons it was difficult to leave Utrecht. I get to spend some of that cherished family time, and see the friends I've missed dearly. I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything, and given the chance, would change nothing. I owe worlds of thanks to my parents, family and friends for playing their part, however large or small, in helping create this opportunity for me.

Wow, French Riviera!

Hey folks, I escaped from France, though not in the direction I originally intended. I couldn't get a train out of Barcelona, so I had to skip it. My consellation is three extra days in Switzerland, starting with Geneva, which seems nice, but it's like I'm still in France because hey, they speak French here.
Anyhow, Nice was awesome. Not a cloud in three days, beautiful beaches and big hilly landscapes. I caught the fireworks over the Azur on Bastille Day, which made up about 50% of me missing the 4th. Less, probably. Anyhow, the hostel in Nice was great, what with that gourmet chef and 1 euro beers. Definitely a great place to relax and get a little tan. Taking a dip in the salty Riviera bay was one of the more refreshing things I've done. Ever. Floating on my back, watching yachts move out to sea and seeing hills filled with villas behind me (not too mention a large beach) was nothing short of blissful.
Tomorrow will be spent touring Geneva, and maybe getting out on the giant lake (Lake Geneva) for a little paddling. Then it's off to the extreme sports capitol of Europe, Interlaken, for two days of mountain hiking.
It's really freaking hot in Europe right now, just check the weather if you don't believe me. I hope it cools of slightly up in the Alps, but I know I'll miss the weather when I spend my last day in Holland. A nice rain shower would be fitting....

Shame on me, no updates...

So I've been on the road since the Monday before last, and only had one chance to type a bit on the blog. A combination of no free net, no free time, and a spinning head have prevented me from taking the iniative. I'll do my best to give a synopsis, though the sun is high in Nice, and the French Riviera is calling...
Budapest was a really cool town, and spending the Fourth there was a bit weird, sans coolers filled with beer and skies filled with fireworks. I survived, and moved on to Vienna, where I stayed at a cozy hostel SE of the old center, called Hostel Ruthensteiner. A friend from Utrecht, Felix, studies in Vienna and was there to show me around town, though not before noon, as he was still adjusting to the post-study abroad time schedule. Vienna is an impressive city in the way of architecture, thanks to the long ruling Hapsburgs, and also as a social culture. We enjoyed Austrian's finest while watching the Live Earth concerts projected on a huge screen in front of the massive gothic city hall. The weather in Vienna was hot and sunny, but thankfully I got my hair chopped off in Budapest, so I was comfortable. The back of my neck and top of my ears suffered though, as they hadn't seen sun in quite a while.
Next, I hopped a night train down to Venice, Italy, for my first couchette experience. A couchette is six beds in a tiny room on a long overnight train. This train also happened to be Italian, so I arrived in Venice 2 1/2 hours late. Thankfully, I found a bed in a city where one should book weeks ahead. The place is an ex-convent turned dorm, and had a great location just north of the Grand Canal. Venice looks just like it does in the pictures. Gorgeous. I just put my camera away after a while, because every corner is a postcard. The gelado and vino are also up to par. I didn't take a gondola ride, but I did buy a day pass on the vaporettos, or water buses, and hopped around the islands from Lido, the beach seperating the Venice Lagoon from the Adriatic Sea, to Burano, a small fishing island famous for lace, and finally Murano, a glass blowing haven. Being in a city where the only transport was boat was very cool, and the weather agreed, until the last night, when it poured, which was the icing on the cake for a day that included a bank card failure.
In the morning the skies were clear again, and I started a train trip trans-Northern Italy that included me getting booted off a train in Verona, barely catching one to Milano, then missing my stop in Genova. I finally got to the right station in Genova, and took a long bus ride up into the hills to the only hostel in town. Barry met up with me here. Genova turned out to be a town full of surprises. The capital of Liguria and the armpit of the Ligurian coast, Genova is built around a huge port. There are massive castles and fortresses built into the walls, most of which have no been converted into museums, city buildings or private housing. The port itself is really cool, with massive ships moving in and out all day. We enjoyed some pasta out, which beat the hell out of what they were serving at the hostel. Last nigth, we headed out above our hostel for a hike at dusk. Before long, we were high above the city, and walking alongside an ancient wall. I could see the neighboring towns, and Genova lit up far below. On the way back it was pretty dark, and with no flashlight I felt like I violated the Boy Scouts motto. There were, however, about a million fireflies in the woods, and a cell phone provided enough light to move slowly down the paths. About ten minutes from the hostel, something big was coming down the hill up and on our left. I saw it for an instant as it crossed the path in front of us and continued down the hill. It was a big cat. Like mountain lion big. This got the heart beating a bit, and we hurried down the remainder of the way, not talking until we reached the road near the hostel. Fun stuff.
We got up early this morning and caught a train for Nice. We stopped off in Monaco, because why not? The place is filthy rich, and the port shows it. Full of yachts. We hiked up the hill to the palace, which provided a great view over the bay. There was no reason to stay for very long, because I had neither the garb nor the bankroll to step foot in the Monte Carlo, and I wasn't interested in paying 7 euro for a lemonade. So it was off to Nice, where we are now, staying at Villa St Exupery north of the city. From here, it's up in the air. Our train to Barcelona might be in possible, so we're looking at maybe Interlaken instead, because I wouldn't mind a little more mountain hiking. And it's close to Bern, where we'll visit Florian on Thursday. From there it's back to Holland for a night before the big flight home. Crazy. I'll probably get one more of these up before heading back, but if not, I'll see you around. Looking forward to it.

And I'm off...

Ok, so my last days in Utrecht were extremely busy and hectic and more than a little overwhelming, but now I'm quite a ways away, in Hungary, and have some time to collect my thoughts. I won't attempt to undermine my time in Holland by summarizing it or choosing a greatest hits list. Anyone who read the blog knows I enjoyed and cherish the time I had. So I'll leave it at that, and will of course be more than willing to tell stories and relate experiences when I return.
As I said, I have now begun my 3 week long journey that should bring me from Budapest to Venice, to Nice and Barcelona, Torino and Switzerland before I head back to Holland to fly out of Schipol. It took 14 hours and three trains to get to Budapest. I left from Utrecht Centraal at 8:30 yesterday, switched trains with a ten minute window in Frankfurt, then switched again in Vienna. There is a noticeable difference in German trains and Hungarian trains. German trains smell like hand-picked flowers. Hungarian trains smell like stale, day old urine. That you're sitting in. German trains have safety devices on their doors, and there is no smoking allowed. On Hungarian trains, you can smoke while hanging out the door when the train is moving. For instance. So I arrived in Budapest around 23:00 last night and found my hostel with little trouble. It's by far the smallest hostel I've stayed in, barring the pension in Sevilla, and it sleeps 16. This also means the people are nicer, and more stuff is free. Free towel, and free breakfast, to name two. It's a cozy place.
I woke up this morning and headed out to see the city by foot. Budapest is split into Buda and Pest by the Dunbar river. The Pest side is very grid-like and more modern, and the Buda side is extremely hilly, with winding roads and paths leading up. It's one of those places where you want to take a picture of anything. That bridge. That statue. This small child letting her dog lick her feet, then her ice cream cone. Don't worry, I didn't take a photo of that.
It was a lengthy day, full of hill climbing and gawking at architecture, so I'm trying to relax back at the hostel for a while tonight. I'm also not quite recovered from the last week, where sleep was hard to come by, and I had to say good bye to a few people a day. That being said, I'll be cooking dinner with a few people here in not too long, then getting ready for another long day tomorrow. Budapest offers quite a bit to see, and for that matter do. I'm toying with the idea of going caving in Buda's labyrinth, though I'm not sure if I'll have the energy. An alternative is firing large handguns in the hills. Not as appealing, but it might be a fitting 4th of July activity. I need to make some loud noises, and fireworks are a lot more illegal here.
I wish everyone a Happy 4th, and I look forward to seeing you soon.