Day 357: Notting Hill Carnival

Every year, since 1966, The Notting Hill Carnival has overtaken the streets of London in Notting Hill, Kensington, and Chelsea for three days in August. James’ sister, Caroline told us to wear shoes and be prepared for lots and lots of people and partying. Andrew and I weren’t sure what we were in for… so when we arrived, we hesitated – slightly shellshocked by the scene, and then we quickly joined in. We had a fabulous time dancing in the streets, photographing strangers, listening to drum-lines and live Caribbean music, attempting unsuccessfully to avoid mosh pits, as well as unsuccessfully losing James in the commotion! It was great fun! Largely led by the West Indian community, it was quite the juxtaposition of a huge carefree crowd against the meticulously kept houses and storefronts of the area. I think London (and perhaps England as a whole?) has a bit of a proper sterotype for us Americans. The Notting Hill Carnival proves to all there is a completely different side to London that is well worth a look, or in this case, a three-day street party!

Before we made our way to Notting Hill Carnival, we headed to Camden Lock Market. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting… I think living and traveling in and around Asia for so long has somewhat warped my definition of a market though… It felt more like a sprawling outdoor (and some indoor) mall instead. Very clean and if grungy, it was grungy on purpose, with lots of girls dressed in goth milling about. Regardless, it was still fun to walk around and it felt more London (in a strange way) than biking along the river and through downtown.

Andrew is a fan of the Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright combo, so I snapped a picture of The World’s End as we walked past, wondering (and just in case) if it is The World’s End. A few metro stop detours later we were walking through Notting Hill towards the Carnival. The streets felt empty and you had a sense that there was more going on in other parts of the neighborhood. Which there was. Most definitely. It was almost as if we rounded one corner we went from one extreme to the other almost immediately. It was great fun. Perhaps not the most family friendly carnival, but for us it felt good to let our hair down for once on this trip!

Day 356: Stonehenge!

It would have been smart to look up opening times before we woke up at 5:30 in the morning, to arrive at 6:00 to watch the sun rise over Stonehenge. But, we’re not always the smartest… and we rolled up to Stonehenge just after 6 to discover that we couldn’t get in. As it turns out, you have to book a special sunrise “inner circle” tour (like this one) if you want to do what we were planning on doing for the regular admission fee on our own. James tried to coerce a car full of German tourists to partake in distracting the guards and running for Stonehenge, but they weren’t buying it. Instead, we crawled back in the car, the boys dropped me off to go back to sleep and went in search for breakfast for all. We returned about four hours later and had a more successful visit, even if it wasn’t as successful as we had planned.

Have these stones been modified? Is that a concrete patch above? It seems like a few of the stones had patches on them… If so, I’m not sure how I feel about that! Either way, I couldn’t resist taking one last photo from the expressway as we drove away from Stonehenge and back towards London!

Day 355: An Englishman’s first Chinese fire drill

Contrary to the photo below of our flat tire, this little road-trip turned out to be part of one of my most favorite days in England with James. If you’re perplexed, and haven’t watched the video above… just watch and you’ll see why. How baffling it was to both me and Andrew that James had never heard of a Chinese fire drill before! Baffling and absolutely adorable. “Do we go clockwise or anti-clockwise?” I mean, who even says anti-clockwise? James will be moving to America soon, so it simply felt like the right thing to do… Especially since we were stuck in traffic en route to Stonehenge. We certainly gave all of the cars surrounding us something to laugh at while they waited for their turn to see a bunch of ancient rocks in the middle of nowhere!

In the end, we decided to save Stonehenge for the following morning (to avoid the traffic) and instead headed straight for James’ sister, Caroline’s house in the countryside. Caroline and her wonderfully welcoming husband, Neil have a home that makes me second guess moving to New York City. It was so calm and quiet that I think I can safely say Andrew and I finally felt completely relaxed for the first time in a long, long time on this trip. So relaxed, that Andrew fell asleep while the rest of us had an apéritif and caught up since we last saw each other (at least since Caroline and I saw each other last, as it was the first time I met Neil)! We took the dog for a walk… we took in a beautiful view overlooking Lord Bath’s estate below… and Andrew practiced his British accent with some gentle coaching by James. Usually it’s the other way around, us coaching James, inserting as many “yos” and slang words into his formal accent as we can. Back at “home” (our home for the night) I could barely make it through desert, and snuck up to bed early, if nothing else to revel in the calm before our visit to Stonehenge, reunion with other friends in London, the Notting Hill Festival, and oh right… our transatlantic flight to Peru!

Day 354: Portsmouth

First stop in Portsmouth: Fort Nelson. It was here where it was reiterated that I’m simply not into military museums (and preserved forts) but if you are, then I highly recommend going for the free shooting display. Second stop in Portsmouth: the waterfront. The cockles were ok (a bit sandy for my liking) so it’s safe to say that I was much more excited to be introduced to my very first “2 penny pusher.” How gloriously addicting these machines were! Furthermore, I can’t even begin to describe how good of a thing it was that James whisked us away to a local pub when he did, otherwise, I might still be standing there, waiting for that one mountain of pennies (pence?) to fall!

Thankfully, it was a gorgeous day to walk around the fort and we cruised through the underground tunnels and the museum full of old artillery, guns, and vehicles, taking everything in simultaneous to continuing to catch up on things since we last saw each other over a year ago. James and Andrew tried to get me to compete against a handful of little ones in an obstacle course (that was for children only) but I refused, assuring them I would win. Once the guns were blasted, we made our way to the waterfront where James made us try cockles and then we camped out at some 2 penny pusher machines until he recognized he had introduced us to a game that could possibly destroy our daily budget (even though it only cost 2 pennies to play). We quickly headed to a pub and then home to have some fish, chips, and mushy peas!

Mushy peas? I know, I was skeptical as well, but they’re really quite good! Almost like eating mashed potatoes in a way… I quite liked them and was a little surprised that I had never heard of them before. Does this dish even exist in America? It seems like something that would be in the south… but I definitely haven’t had it in Kentucky!

Day 353: The day we waited for laundry to dry

Seriously. That’s what we did. The day in a minute doesn’t get any more entertaining than watching a cat sit on our bags. Because when we weren’t checking the laundry, we were watching Allan, waiting for him to do something weird. (He is a bit of an eccentric cat.) 

It was gorgeous, beautiful weather our first two days in London. Until this morning, when we decided to do laundry and let it air dry before we headed south to Portsmouth. Of course, it rained. We (Allan included) stared at each other, and the laundry, until it was dry enough for us to pack it up and go.

Day 352: “What’s a Cornetto 99?”

Day 2 in London was more of the same, except we got to sleep past five in the morning. (What a relief!) Another wonderful homemade breakfast and we were out the door, again on bikes down to the River Thames. This time we jumped off of them and spent a couple hours exploring the Tate Modern before James introduced us to a Cornetto 99!

“What’s a Cornetto 99?” I asked James. He simply smiled with a twinkle in his eye and told me I would find out!

While it’s no longer 99 pence, it’s still delicious and worth every penny (at least once). In Kentucky, my friends would call this a ‘creamy whip.’ In other words, it’s a perfect (almost a cross between whip cream) ice-cream cone with a little cookie sticking out, and some chocolate drizzled on top if you prefer! It’s delicious. Try one the next time you’re in England!

The Tate Modern is – get this – free! Aside from special exhibitions. This is a LOT and more than enough to keep you entertained. Andrew and James headed up to concentrate on one exhibition, while I sprinted through several just to see what was there. My favorites included the Joseph Bueys photograph on canvas, the room full of Communist propaganda posters (of course), the dimly lit room full of HUGE Rothkos (too dark to photograph) and the Glenn Ligon (America) painted neon light piece below.

It was a great visit, but I have to admit, I was a little bit art-museum-ed out after spending so many hours inside them in Paris. We biked around some more, I got that sweet picture of James biking in between buses and taxis (above), and we stopped off at a few pubs in between. We weren’t exactly the perfect tourists, and I’m sure we could have done sooo much more with our day, but we were still reveling in James’ company, and letting go of the reins for a bit.

Day 351: London immigration at 3 in the morning; not my favorite!

London Immigration: How long will you be in England?
me: A few days, five I think.
Immigration: And then you are flying back to the United States? To teach?
me: No…
Immigration: Where are you going next?
me: (thinking) Peru. Yes. Peru.
Immigration: Don’t you need to get back to school? (I filled in “teacher” under occupation.)
me: No… I’m not teaching right now. I was teaching. In South Korea. But now, we’re traveling. (as anyone with eyes and a brain can tell by looking at the visas and stamps in my passport, which was in her hands)
Immigration: How are you finding your trip? (I thought she asked.)
me: Well, I’m really tired… (as it was in the middle of the night)
Immigration: (blankly staring at me) I don’t care.
me: I’m sorry, perhaps I misunderstood your question?
Immigration: How are you funding your trip?
me: Ohhh. funding. Well, with money. (Clearly confused.)
Immigration: How much money do you have on you?
me: In cash? Well… nothing… (thinking we spent all of our euros before getting on the bus heading to a country that doesn’t accept euros…)
Immigration: What about credit cards?
me: Well, there’s no money on them… I paid them off.
Immigration: You have no money?
me: You mean, what money is in my checking account? Of course I have money in there…

At this point Andrew’s immigration officer came over to my immigration officer’s desk.

new Immigration officer: Where are you staying in England.
me: With a friend.
new Immigration officer: Who is he?
me: His name?
new Immigration officer: Yes.
me: James.
new Immigration officer: How do you know him?
me: We met in Korea. We were teachers together.

By this time, I’m starting to wonder if the rest of my evening is going to be spent in the passport control building. I’m even imagining them inspecting my luggage: full of Haribo gummie candy, a bottle of Absenth, and some pretty well worn clothes that needed a good washing. But suddenly, Andrew’s officer turned to mine and told her that I answered all of the questions with the same answers Andrew gave.

I practically had to pinch myself before rolling my eyes and telling them both we answered the same (and truthfully) because we weren’t terrorists! We just wanted to spend the year traveling around the world! I realized later, when chatting with James and others that they probably suspected we were going to try to find jobs in England. Again, I rolled my eyes. Leave Asia to work in the (technically) E.U.? Sorry friends, but no thanks! I’m taking plenty of chances leaving Asia to work in America as it is!

James’ sister was happy to hear London immigration gave us the run-around. I get it. A run-around is great. I’m all for spelling things out. We have done it before (Israel) but it seemed like a giant waste of time this (very early) morning to mumble non-specific questions and then get frustrated with me when I don’t understand! I’ve also had one too many passport control “officers” and flight attendants look at my old Burmese visa thinking that it is the most important page (with all of my information on it)… so it’s become a challenge for me to know if I should take them seriously or not…

Of course we arrived in London nearly an hour early, just after 5 in the morning. We were exhausted, but once James arrived (with bells on) and we had a coffee, we began to shake ourselves awake a bit. Then came breakfast. A giant English feast of a meal before we hopped on bikes to ride around the city. We stuck mostly along the Thames and I didn’t photograph much, and instead enjoyed the feeling of having a friend again (one we don’t really feel often on this trip) and a friend who made all of our decisions for us! What a lovely break!

Day 344: Picasso and Pinchos

Picasso Museum Round Two was a success! We introduced Nat to Bo de B (and got another salmon salad of course) and then headed to the Picasso Museum to see how crazy the line was and if we were up for waiting. It was long, but it moved surprisingly fast. The museum contained a LOT of Picasso’s first works and pieces that I’ve never seen before, yet there was a huge gap of Picasso’s life and works that are obviously in other museums throughout the world that I think everyone (me included) are more familiar with. We bummed around the Born and Gothic districts again before meeting up with Nat for another round of tapas! This time, we opted for pinchos! Tapas served on bread, count. me. in.

Have I told you lately how much I love the Born and Gothic neighborhoods (districts?) because I do! Check out the latest street art sightings just around the corner from the Picasso Museum! I also looked up some recommended vintage and boutique stores and popped into “The Box” which was also right around the corner from the Picasso Museum. Suuuper cute store! Also, Can I just say for the record that I love it when owners welcome me taking pictures! The boutique was so photogenic I couldn’t help myself!

We ducked into a few other boutiques, and one was really neat and very well designed- lots of vintage signage and props scattered around the store- along with ‘No Photos’ signs. As a photographer, this always annoys me. As a consumer, it makes me not want to buy anything! The Box on the other hand, was warm and welcoming and if the picture below doesn’t make you want to stop by and buy a few bow ties… something might be wrong with you!

 These cookies looked like they were to die for in the window, we opted for the carrot cake instead. It was delicious -a bit overpriced – but delicious nonetheless.

I was kicking myself for missing a previous photo opportunity of an accordion player roaming the streets of the Gothic district. When this musician passed by us this afternoon I was so excited, Andrew was rolling his eyes. Who doesn’t love a second chance, especially when it comes to taking a photo!

We sat in a square and people watched for a little while, killing some time before we met up with Nat one last time. Directly in front of the bench I was sitting on (while Andrew went off searching for some Dr. Peppers for us) a little girl only about two or three years old walked up to a younger boy in a stroller. She was completely enthralled by the younger boy. She put her face in his and attempted to touch his hand and then remembered there were others watching and looked up. Her father was standing behind her, encouraging her to say ‘Hola’ while the obviously non-Spanish speaking tourists laughed and encouraged their son to wave back. We all watched, amused at the miniature confrontation before one of the parents decided it was time to part ways. I marveled at how brave and innocent the little girl was walking up to a “stranger” and immediately touching his face. While I recounted the event to Andrew when he returned empty handed, I couldn’t help but wonder at what point do others become “strangers.” And then I was distracted by this family walking by with children slung over their shoulders like bags of rice, and all I could think of was how much I love people.

Day 338: a wine tasting at Pierre Andre

While Andrew is more of a beer kinda guy, I think I like beer and wine equally. After Julie and Antoine so generously shared a fair amount of their wine with us during our visit, it was icing on the cake when they announced we were going to visit Pierre Andre, a local winery and have a tasting. It was a much more intimate experience than our wine tasting in South Africa and we were so grateful to the young man (I have to say young man because he was so much younger than us and sooo much more knowledgeable about wine!) who poured our wine for us and explained what we were tasting. A tip of the hat towards this winery, because while the ones I’ve experienced (South Africa somewhat included) tended to be on the snooty side, Pierre Andre was anything BUT snooty. They were kind and welcoming and really downright lovely. Next time we visit Burgundy (and we’re not jumping several countries before going ‘home’) we’ll be back and chances are, we’re going to leave with a couple of cases of wine!

It was our last day in Burgundy, so it made perfect sense to be at the winery before lunch! We wandered through the cellars before making our way back upstairs for a really great tasting. We had more than the usual (I think around 4-5 different wines has been my experience elsewhere) and we were able to get more if we wanted!

I kept trying to photograph the dimly lit cavern with my lens and it wasn’t having it. You can see Julie catching me putting my camera on the table (above) but the light was simply not in my favor. Julie also got these pictures of me and Andrew – which is quite nice to have a few photos of us that we haven’t taken ‘selca (selfie) style’ of ourselves on one of our i-devices!

I was really quite sad to leave, although I’ve been getting better at not letting it show as much. Sometimes Andrew has to deal with me tearing up on a bus or plane after saying goodbye, but I think it was a little bit easier than most times because New York to France seems much more feasible than South Korea to France (or vice versa). So instead of going on and on about how much I hate goodbyes, I’ll instead indulge us all with a ridiculous amount of pictures of thefour six (dogs included) of us!

Day 337: Chateauneuf en Auxois

Chateauneuf en Auxois turned out to be one of the most photogenic places! It didn’t hurt that it was overcast- we were a little bit chilled, but it was fairly glorious to photograph all of the colors of doors and flowers and trees under the cloudy sky. We visited the fortification first, strolled through the town to the church, then strolled through again before the sun peeked out and we were able to enjoy another picnic lunch outside before making our way to Saint-Victor-sur-Ouche, where Antoine used to visit his grandparents! We watched a river cruise boat pull into a lock, walked down the lane, and even waded in the shallow river long enough to cool off, but not get too cold from the mountain spring water. Again, the day was wonderful!

I felt a little restricted not having a wider lens, so there were many times that I would curse the lens that I had, and back up as far as I could to take a shot. But the weather was working in my favor. We were chilled, but the grey sky made the colors really pop for these photos of Chateauneuf en Auxois and the little village surrounding it.

Inside Chateauneuf en Auxois, I was most impressed with the patterns of the wallpaper, or on the fireplace cover, or even the bedding in some of the rooms. The photos I took of the rooms themselves were too cropped, and quite simply didn’t do the rooms justice, so we’ll just stick with sharing the beautiful colors and patters found inside instead. I got a few (slightly cropped still) shots of the outside that do give the courtyard a bit of justice. How beautiful is this rose covered wall?

Perhaps you can hear me whispering excitedly to Andrew about the ‘murder holes’ we found overlooking the town below. Have I mentioned before on the blog that Andrew has teased me about installing these in our future home in America?

I’m sure we won’t run into any building code problems whatsoever in New York City if/when we ever request a few of these…

I might have gone off the deep end photographing the town. I just could not get enough of it. The ivy growing on houses, the rock walls, the bright yellow van parked in front of the bright red door… Needless to say, I was always tagging along behind everyone else or running to catch up after taking copious amounts of photos of the same yellow van and red door.

After a lovely picnic lunch, we headed to Saint-Victor-sur-Ouche. This little (and equally adorable) town was right alongside a canal. Cruises go up and down the canal. We had timed it somewhat perfectly to see a little ‘ship’ arrive to the lock and then move up the river. We found out that the cruises last one week, but if you were to drive the same distance, it would only take about two hours or so. When the boat was going through the lock, the passengers got off with bikes to go around and explore. I’m on the fence about cruises in general, so I’m wondering if one of these (very) leisurely canal cruises would be something I would like or not… Maybe I need to try a regular cruise first? Perhaps one (or both) will be part of our next Round-the-World trip?

Realizing we didn’t have very many group shots, I arranged my camera on my backpack, set the self timer, and ran (awkwardly ran) into the water to take a group picture. These are the best ones we managed to get. Afterwards, we (I) had a bit of trouble getting up the sharp slope back to the car. Andrew decided to help, and Julie documented it. (Nice job, Julie!) Later that night in the garden, Julie also documented how well Roule and I got on. She was a little camera shy though, and once she caught on to Julie photographing us, she ran off!

Day 336: A day in Dijon

I remember Dijon the most from my first trip to visit Julie. It was fun to be back and see how it’s changed- it mostly felt bigger than it did last time, which I suppose is true about nearly everywhere these days. We walked around, we took pictures, we ate croque madames et monsieurs, we introduced Julie and Antoine to the ‘selca’ shot (this is Korean speak for ‘selfie’ back home, it can be seen in my Instagram feed) and then when we were too hot and tired, we headed back to the garden for more glorious French food and wine. You have no idea how spoiled Andrew and I felt throughout our visit and stay with Antoine and Julie!

I managed to get everyone else in the “day in a minute” video making a wish and touching the owl for good luck. Julie managed to get a picture of me! Actually, thanks to her, there are more pictures of me up than usual! Since Andrew’s camera battery charger died, I’ve mostly been behind the lens rather than in front of it. Since Andrew’s camera went missing in Prague, unless I specifically hand it over, sometimes this blog reads more like ‘This Wisconsin Boy’ rather than ‘This Kentucky Girl.’ He pretends he doesn’t like it, but we all know that is far from the truth. It’s fun to share some pictures of me for a change! Merci beaucoup encore Julie!

I caught Antoine sitting in between these two pillars waiting for us to catch up. So. adorable. Then things got even better when he pretended to be a gargoyle. The one of him laughing is probably a bit better (and more flattering) than the one of him actually pretending he’s a gargoyle. Somehow mouth open, bent over doesn’t scream ‘I’m a gargoyle’ as much as it screams ‘I’m getting sick!’ (ha!) The streets were a bit empty, being August in France- most people are on vacation. It made for a very leisurely (and enjoyable) stroll. I even found some street art along the way that I quite enjoyed. The heart is probably my favorite.

Julie and I spotted an old sign in what was basically a driveway leading to a back courtyard. Julie and I both share a love of older prints and lettering. So, of course we had to take a few pictures. I experimented with a close up shot of the sign, but I’m not sure if it does the typography justice.

She led us past an old church that had been converted into a theater, into another church, and while I was in the midst of photographing the interior, my second lens of the trip decided to stop working. This is one aspect of the trip that I had not properly prepared for: the general wear and tear that would happen to our computers, cameras, and related electronic gear. I’ve had a lot of issues with my external hard drive (where all of my photos and videos from the trip- for the blog- and my portfolio reside) and a few lens issues. Were I to do this trip again, again, I’d travel with a camera bag instead of a ‘backpacker’s daypack’ and I’d have more of a backup plan in mind. Extra money set aside for broken lenses. An extra camera perhaps. Definitely an additional external hard drive. (I worry more its whereabouts than I do of my passport!)

I really wanted to travel with a high quality point and shoot in addition to my DSLR- but Andrew talked me out of it… He nsisted my iphone/DSLR combo was enough. For those not obsessed with taking pictures, this would have been sound advice. Unfortunately- I am obsessed. (Perhaps you’ve noticed?) Usually I travel (on shorter trips) with at least three cameras: a digital, an analog, an i-phone, and sometimes even a polaroid. From now on, I will always travel with a small (yet hopefully advanced) point and shoot.

Perhaps sand got into my daypack and then into my other lens. Perhaps I would have gotten even more footage and pictures having a point and shoot. Perhaps having a point and shoot more accessible would let me keep my DSLR tucked away when kayaking, trekking, etc. etc. My point is- if you’re a photographer, and you’re going on a trip around the world. Invest in a point and shoot in addition to your normal gear. You won’t regret it. Especially when your second wide angle lens of the trip bottoms out and you have to make a choice of what to get fixed and/or what to buy as a replacement!

We thought it would be appropriate if we take a group picture in front of the plaque solidifying American-French friendship. When we asked someone nearby to take the picture, they were a little confused as to why we would want our picture taken with the plaque- that is, until we told him of our own American-French friendship.

And then… guess where we had dinner? In the garden, of course!

Every night, Swing and Roule would want to come into our room. They weren’t allowed, but this did not stop them from trying. I managed to catch this picture of Roule in the morning just checking things out, seeing what we were up to…

Day 335: Burgundy

Bienvenue a Burgundy! Antoine and Julie took the reins during our stay and with our second day in the region, we headed to Autun and Beaune. Autun for a festival celebrating the people who first inhabited the area. Think Asterix, only not so animated. It reminded both Andrew and me of The Renaissance Festivals back home. After lunch, we headed to Beaune – mostly to see the Hospices de Beaune, an old hospital most known for its beautiful roof and perhaps to some, a charity wine auction. It was a lovely afternoon, but an almost better (?) evening when we were back in the garden dining on Julie’s homemade French dishes complete with more wine, bread, and cheese. We found ourselves again in food heaven.

We headed to Autun early, and made it just in time for some (gladiator arena-style-fight) reenactments. The performance – about four different battles- didn’t last long. Afterwards, we found Julie and Antoine asking one of the men questions. I tried to follow along as best as I could, but practicing my listening comprehension for the first time in a long long while proved to be rather difficult.

Julie prepared a wonderful picnic that we enjoyed in an old Roman colosseum- well, what was left of it. We brought along the dogs; Swing and Roulle. Roulle (Julie’s parents’ dog) took a liking to us. Andrew and I always argue over which one of us dogs like more. He won this time around. Roulle rested her head on his knee during at least half of our picnic. (You have no idea how much we’re looking forward to having a dog of our own when we get back. Like, almost as much as I’m looking forward to having a bed I get to sleep in for more than three nights in row.

I remember visiting the Hospices de Beaune in high-school. The roof is just as pretty as it was fifteen years ago. Would you believe this hospital was for the poor? Can you imagine if hospitals in America looked like this today?

We didn’t stay long in Beaune. Andrew and I weren’t disappointed, I mean- it was beautiful, and we appreciated it (of course) but, we had a feeling another wonderful dinner was in store for us back ‘home’ in the garden! And sure enough, it was. When Antoine handed us each a half of an avocado to start, Andrew and I were skeptical. But then we were introduced to quite possibly my new most favorite thing to eat. He then proceeded to pour olive oil into where the pit once resided, sprinkled a bit of salt on top and then mashed it up before eating it with some baguette. It was pretty amazing, and if you’re anything like me (lover of avocados. olive oil. bread.) you’ll quickly find yourself addicted. Oh behalf of Antoine, you’re welcome.

Day 334: a French reunion

Nearly fifteen years ago (ohmigoodness. fifteen whole years.) a lovely French girl, Julie, came to Kentucky to stay with me and my family for two weeks. A few months later, I found myself in France staying with her and her family. Fortunately we got along incredibly well. (The same cannot be said for all who participated in this exchange between our high-schools.) We got along so well in fact, that we’ve kept photo-albums and scrapbooks of our exchange. We sent each other Christmas presents for a few years after. I spent an Easter during my semester abroad in Italy with her and her family. Needless to say, when she heard about our trip around the world, she was insistent we stop by for another visit. Of course, I immediately said ‘yes’ and despite not seeing each other for eight years, I wasn’t exactly surprised when we were picked up (at 4:30 in the morning) Julie and I carried on like we just saw each other yesterday. Her and her wonderful husband, Antoine whisked us away to their beautiful home in the French countryside, let us crawl into bed for a few hours and then (little did we know) began to spoil us with a ridiculous amount of delicious French baguettes, cheeses, wines… and this was just the start of so much more goodness to come!

After a very leisurely lunch out back, in beautiful French fashion (olives and bread to nibble on with drinks, then the main course, then cheese, then fruit) all with wonderful wine, I hardly felt like a backpacker and instead, felt like a girl who just happened to be visiting her close friend in the French countryside for a few days. (I’m. so. lucky.) We went to a local rummage sale and then back to their abode to meet friends before being treated to a really wonderful dinner. Wonderful is an understatement. It was the nicest meal we’ve had during this entire trip. I was so excited, I had to take a picture of every course. I was thatgirl photographing her food. And her boyfriend’s food. I know I should have been more like ‘yea, I’m a world-traveler… I do this all. the. time.‘ with a flip of the hair of course… But obviously (if you’ve been following along) we don’t. Some nights bread and cheese is our dinner, not just the last course. (My standards have become increasingly low- especially after some of the less developed countries.)

Enjoy the beautiful food pictures below, and maybe you won’t blame me for going a bit bananas documenting our best meal! Julian (I hope I’m spelling that right!) enjoyed teasing me for being that girl taking pictures of her food. He asked if I wanted to take a picture of his desert as well. I said yes, as long as he was in it too!

Day 306: What happened to Dubrovnik?

Croatia was a vacation destination for the Czechs when I lived in Prague. That’s how I knew about it. Flights were too expensive to Greece and Turkey, so before I left Prague to move to Seoul, I went on one last trip with a girlfriend to Croatia. Dubrovnik was one of the highlights (we also visited Split, Trogir, and Hvar). This was in 2006. We went in August and it was glorious. There were tourists, sure, but it felt special and unique and like we were exploring a largely untouched place. We walked the walls of Dubrovnik under the burning summer sun and then sat at a sidewalk cafe within the city walls for hours drinking wine and dining on fresh seafood. After an evening full of house white, we got lost in the hillside maze outside of the walls trying to find our way to our rented room. In the end, a gracious cab driver called a friend of a friend and we eventually found our way to bed. It was one of my favorite days of travel. My eyes would glow whenever anyone mentioned Croatia, and I would go on (and on and on) about how they simply had to visit Dubrovnik.

Fast forward to today. It’s not the same. It’s still beautiful and downright stunning towards the evening when the majority of tourists are in their hotel rooms. But it’s ridiculously overpriced now, and during the day the amount of tourists are so overwhelming that it really takes away from the beauty of the old city. It made me wonder, what happened to Dubrovnik?

After getting kicked off of the bus in Kotor that Josh and Leanne were on, we inexplicably had to relocate to a much fuller bus to Dubrovnik and arrived a few hours later exhausted and hoping we would get a decent room for a decent price. Andrew left me with our bags at the bus station while he searched for a bathroom. Tired, and not wanting to deal with those asking if I needed a place to stay, I decided to lowball everyone who asked if I needed a room.

“Ten euro per person?” I asked the woman shouting at me, inches away from my face, “Lady, you need room?”

She suggested an apartment for sixty euro per night, or a private room for forty euro. I shook my head. I wasn’t annoyed, just tired. I motioned to our backpacks and said “This is all we have. Ten euro per person, or go find someone else.” I thought, if nothing else, she would leave me alone and Andrew could take the lead when he returned.

Another apartment owner came up and asked if I knew what I was saying, “Ten euro?!” he asked over and over again, laughing at the idea. I held my ground, again, simply tired, and waiting for Andrew to return with a better idea.

“Okay, okay, ten euro per person!” The woman yelled, again, only inches away from my face. Andrew returned and I shrugged. He shrugged, and we agreed to at least go look at it. I whispered that he could be ‘bad cop’ and say we couldn’t stay if he wanted.

In the car en route to our room, she would say things like “Here, 15 minute walking to old town!” and then keep driving. “Here to the beach!” and keep driving. “Here bus to station.” and keep driving. “Here hotel is my neighbor.” and keep driving. We ended up being about a thirty-forty  minute walk away from the old town. We arrived to the woman’s house and waited while the bed was made in the spare room.

“We can go somewhere else!” I whispered to Andrew, completely aware that we were staying in this loud woman’s house, not even disguised as a more legitimate guesthouse.

“It’s ok…” Andrew replied (just as tired as I was) and we went in our room when the bed was made to take a nap before exploring around the city. An hour later, a man walked into our room, and then shouted “Pardon! Pardon!” as he closed the door as quickly as he could. We were too tired to even be bothered by the intrusion.

Into the evening we finally made our way towards the walled in ‘old town.’ It was then the change of Dubrovnik slapped me in the face.

“A bottle of water is THREE EUROS.” Andrew came out of a convenient store flabbergasted. We weren’t even within the walls of the old city. Usually a litre and a half of water is less than one euro. I sighed, taking note of the crazy amount of tourists everywhere.

We walked into the old city and I suggested we find the alleyway Jess and I dined for hours on end during my last visit. We found the alley, and promptly found the ridiculously overpriced menus that accompanied the beautiful cafes. My shoulders slumped, disappointed I wouldn’t be able to share the same magical experience with Andrew this time around. We walked out of the old town and found a pizza place Andrew later insisted wasn’t as good as the pizza by the slice joint we went to in Kotor.

We walked around, stopping short of a smaller version of the Spanish steps in Rome. One restaurant owner gave us a flyer, insisting we wouldn’t be sorry if we stopped. He sounded North American. I asked him about his accent, and he said he had spent several years in California, but having been born in Dubrovnik, he returned to run his (family’s?) restaurant. I told him I had been in Dubrovnik several years ago, and said it seemed so… different… I asked when it had changed.

“Around 2006 he answered. All of the cruisers started to stop here then. Are you on a cruise ship?” He asked, stopping himself.

“No.” I smiled, thinking how different our mode of transportation usually is.

“I didn’t want to offend you… But we don’t really like the cruisers. They come and spend one day walking around and you really need more time than that to get a feel for the city… Since they started coming, things have changed a lot.” He replied. I told him it was nice to talk to him and that I hoped we would be able to eat at his restaurant tomorrow before I climbed the steps with Andrew.

We sat outside of the  Church of St. Ignatius mostly watching two boys kick a ball back and forth. Their future might not include professional football, but they sure were fun to watch in the present. Still tired, we made our way back out of the old town to our room in ‘the lady’s’ (as we liked to call her) house. On our way back, I wondered if I knew one of the persons walking towards town. I knew I was tired, but I also knew I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t ask.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but is your name Riley?” I asked the poor guy minding his own business making his way towards the old town.

“Yes.” He answered, and I knew it was my friend from college. I took off my sunglasses and smiled apologetically to the woman he was with.

“Riley, it’s Liz, from Loyola.” I smiled. He let out a string of expletives and gave me a huge hug. We introduced our significant others and caught up on life since we saw each other last and finally wished each other well on our travels. They were leaving the next day for Hvar, and I was too tired to suggest continuing a reunion somewhere other than the sidewalk that we were on. The world is small, and running into a familiar (even if it’s been awhile) face made me smile and it certainly made Andrew shake his head in amusement.

Day 305: Climbing the fortifications of Kotor

Kotor is lovely. It’s even more lovely after the daily cruise ship departs in the afternoon. We decided to wait until it was gone before we climbed up to the top of the fortifications of Kotor. You know how to tell you’ve been traveling for awhile? When you become more mouthy towards the person(s) charging an entrance fee for something you weren’t expecting to be charged for.

“Is this for real, or did you just put this table here and start collecting money?” Andrew asked the woman sitting behind a table, under an umbrella with what appeared to be a fan mounted on the outside of her house blowing warm air over her.

She was less than impressed. As were we, when an overly enthusiastic tourist informed us “It’s not so expensive, and it’s totally worth the view.”

I’m fairly positive there was a collective rolling of the eyes from me, Andrew, Josh, and Leanne. Not that we didn’t believe the view would be worth it, but at his enthusiasm over us paying a fee. A fee that might be small to him, but to us, after traveling for 10-16 months… Well, let’s just say they add up. We paid, and then started climbing the 1,350 stairs up. in flip flops. with a bum heel, still, because I have yet to reunite with my Nikes (currently awaiting my arrival in England).

Along the way up, we heard a North American accent judge us all for our choice of shoes. (Three of us were wearing flip flops.) I didn’t realize she was talking about us until Leanne laughed about it. Had I known she was talking about us, I would have talked in an equally loud voice so she could have easily overheard my conversation. I would have elaborated (loudly) about my sheer stupidity for keeping the wrong pair of ‘gym shoes’ (barefoot water shoes) instead of my Nike running shoes. And how if it were not for being over budget on my trip around the world, I would have gladly bought shoes that other judgmental tourists might approve of.

I love rooftops like these. Why can’t we have similar pretty tiled roofs in Kentucky? There’s so much more character to them than shingles!

Before Andrew and I got to the top (my heel tends to slow us down) Josh peeked his head out of an opening in the fortification from above, and waved, reminding Andrew of the Monty Python and the Holy Grail. They laughed and Josh admitted to channeling the movie.

On our way down, I introduced ‘Scenario’ to Josh and Leanne. ‘Scenario’ (in case I haven’t explained it before, or you’re new to the blog) is a game that my friend, Lindsay taught me where you give fun/funny scenarios instead of the usual “Say cheese!” before taking a picture. Josh’s first scenario: He just walked in on Andrew trying on my delicates in our shared apartment.

Josh wanted to practice giving a scenario. It was something along the lines of someone being extra smelly. I was pointing to Andrew.

Day 304: Montenegro, What country is that in?

Today was my sister’s birthday! (Yay! Happy Birthday Gina!) So, I of course, spent most of the day reminding myself to call her and NOT to forget. This can sometimes be a process. When we were in Korea, it was always easy to know what time I could call someone stateside. Now that we are jumping time zones so often, it can be difficult. There are at least four different times on my computer so I can keep track of what time it is where. I called. I missed her. She emailed. I called again.

“So where are you now?” She asked.

“Montenegro.” I told her.

“What country is that in?”

“It is the country.” I confirmed, relieved when she cracked up at herself.

“Oh! Well where is it?”

“You know how there is a sea on the right side of Italy ? (I explained, as if she were looking at a map) It’s on the other side of that sea, the Adriatic.”

“So above Greece?”

“Yea, above Greece.”

“Ok, I know where you are now.”

It seems as though Montenegro has been blowing up lately on the tourist circuit. Staying inside the walls of Kotor Stari Grad (Old City) we were getting used to the amount of tourists rolling in off of their giant cruise ship for the day, flooding the little city, walking around in big groups- too big to walk together through some of the narrow passageways. We decided to get out of dodge and headed up the coast to see some of the other smaller towns along the Bay of Kotor. First, we headed to Risan, the oldest settlement on the bay:

Risan was quiet and without any other tourists, which was a nice change. But there wasn’t much to do… Except, perhaps to see the Roman mosaics. They are ancient, and I get that, but I’m a bigger fan of the Ottoman mosaics myself.

In the middle of the bay, Our Lady of the Rocks Church sits on a man-made island of rocks and sunken ships full of rocks. The other islet holds the Saint George Benedictine monastery and apparently a cemetery for old nobility around Kotor Bay. We didn’t go to either, but instead admired from afar. We mostly walked along the seaside through Perast. It, too, was quiet. A few other tourists roamed the street, but not many, and even fewer people roamed the streets when it started raining.

Day 303: Overcoming the 10 Month Travel Slump

We woke up in beautiful Kotor, Montenegro. After driving through a buzzing Budva the night before, we were grateful we were staying down the coast inside the walls of a slightly smaller, and much less crowded version of Dubrovnik. After lucking out meeting Vladimir and Marija in Belgrade, and starting to break out of the ‘slump,’ both Andrew and I were looking forward to reuniting with our ‘Round the World’ travel buddies, Josh and Leanne. (We went on safari together in Tanzania, and then met up again in Turkey just in case you forgot.) Meeting up with friends while we’re traveling is one thing. Making new friends on our travels is another, wonderful thing. But meeting up with friends, who are also on a trip around the world, in country #3 is a whole new amazing ballgame. Because not only do we get to feel like we really do have friends, but we have friends who get it. Who get what it’s like to travel around the world. Who get that it’s amazing, but sometimes hard. Who get the 10 Month Travel Slump. Even when you wake up to a beautiful city in a brand new country that you can’t wait to explore.

We had a few (ok, many) heart to hearts. We agreed how strange it is to travel around the world but at times feel like we’re missing out on so much back ‘home.’ How annoying our schedules are and how much our diet changes. How wonderful a good salad can be. How we’re tired a LOT of the time. How annoying expensive countries are after traveling through particularly inexpensive ones. Leanne and I totally related to each other being absolutely sick of our clothes. You know that feeling when you open your closet (full of clothes) and groan how you have nothing to wear? Imagine only having a backpack. Uh… yea… I don’t think I’ll ever complain about a closet full of clothes again.

We laughed about how weekends can be the worst. No one emails us on the weekends. If we were home, and following a ‘normal’ schedule, we wouldn’t even notice, but while traveling, days of the week aren’t exactly kept track of. If I wake up to no new messages, chances are it’s a Saturday. We joked about when the best time to put a status up on Facebook is. Monday mornings. That’s when we’re most likely to get some love from everyone we miss talking to or seeing on a regular basis. We all agreed, probably no one reads our blogs, wondered why no one comments, and promised each other we would comment on each other’s just to make each other feel better. Maybe we shouldn’t be hurt when we don’t hear from close friends, but we sometimes are. This led to something of a debate whether or not we will have the same relationships we had when we left.

They gave us an unintentional pep talk (mostly just by understanding the slump) about the trip. They revealed they went through their own 10 month travel slump, but then they showed us why we’re all doing this crazy, amazing adventure, by a wonderful montage they made of their trip (so far). Andrew and I both watched it in awe, smiling and pointing out places we’ve also been, or asking if it was where we thought it was. I thought it was so amazing of them for doing the trip, and then I remembered ‘Oh yea, I’m doing that too!’ and suddenly everything felt possible and wonderful and I felt so grateful I was doing the exact same thing they were doing. It was a really incredible feeling to have realized I couldn’t say “Ohmigod, that’s awesome, I wish I was doing that!” because I already am doing it. WE are doing it, maybe a bit poorly lately (not being as enthusiastic about it as we should) but we’re doing it! And now that we’re well on our way of overcoming the 10 month travel slump, we’ll be back on top of the world in no time!

In case you’re trying to overcome your own ten month travel slump, or you’re curious how our wonderful friends, Josh and Leanne helped us get out of our’s, you can check out their video, here:

Meanwhile, in Kotor, there was an art festival for children going on. There were a few different art installations set up around the city. The giant hanging laundry outside of a church in the walled in old town was my favorite. Maybe I was just super excited that a washing machine came with the apartment the four of us rented and I didn’t have to wash anything by hand…

Day 287: Sofia Free Walking Tour

What’s better than a hop-on hop-off bus tour around a new city? A free walking tour. This was our first one, you know, with a guide and not Andrew reading from Lonely Planet or Trip Advisor where we should go and what we should do. I’ve become more and more appreciative of opportunities on this trip where we can hand over the reigns to someone else for a couple of hours, and this was no exception. I don’t know if this is a trend or not (being as it is my first one) but it seems as though guides for free tours are exceptionally better than guides for paying tours. Our guide, Radina was nice, knowledgeable, and made all of the historical facts and timelines entertaining! For a complete list of free walking tours around the world, check out their post on the Sofia Free Tour Blog. (They’re the free tour that just keeps giving!) You can also find them on Facebook here, if you’re interested.

As always, on this trip, I find myself facing the fact that I did not pay nearly enough attention in my history classes in school. Andrew and I have talked about this many, many times. I feel like I did everything backwards. I should have gone on a trip around the world and THEN school. I would have been a much better student if I had. Now I find myself playing catch up and going down the rabbit hole of Wikipedia every other day. If I’m not looking up history, I’m looking up religion, or at least adding to the growing list of books I want to read about both and cursing the Kindle makers for pricing e-books so high. The more countries we add to our list, the more my news feed grows as well.

When we first started traveling, we would send each other articles about North and South Korea. Then articles on India were added to the list. Then Palestine and Israel. Then South Africa. Lately we’ve been keeping up with Turkey, Greece, and now Bulgaria. Sometimes my head is so full, I have to clarify who is what and from where and what politics they practice to keep up (ahem, to attempt to keep up) with it all. Instead of trying to remember, and/or spend all morning looking up the history that Radina shared with us on the tour, I’m simply going to post pictures and let you enjoy. You know how to look things up on Wikipedia if you need to, right? Right.

Within one square in the middle of Sofia, there were four different buildings of worship, each of a different religion, and each from a different time period. Our guide also told a fun story of how the department store (the first in the country) was also built on this square. When her family would come into Sofia, she would be so excited to ride the (first, and only- if I remember correctly) escalator during communist times.

When we were in Africa, we met and became friends with a lovely Romanian girl, Christina. She was ecstatic when we shared a box full of melty chocolate with her (that Andrew’s mom had sent to us in Tanzania). She told us about growing up without chocolate until one day it was available and she went crazy. Isn’t that fascinating? Can you imagine chocolate and escalators being a special thing?

Government buildings. These poor guards were wearing such heavy, heavy uniforms. I felt bad for them having to stand outside in the HOT sun, but then we were told they change out every hour because it is so hot standing outside in the sun even for just one hour.

Churches were Everywhere. The biggest, and most impressive was the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. It’s one of the largest Eastern Orthodox Churches in the world. We weren’t allowed to photograph the interior, but I assure you it was equally impressive. And dark. Not many candles nor lights were lit, I’m guessing to help preserve the murals on the walls. We sat for awhile inside. To escape the heat outside, and because we’re both fasciated with religious traditions around the world.

Fun fact: Sofia is not named after Saint Sofia. We were told this is a common mistake, even in Bulgaria. It’s named after Ayasofia, which in Greek, means wisdom. If this question comes up in your next trivia game, you’re welcome!

Another fun fact (one that might not be as useful in your next trivia game): It is unbelievably awesome to have friends scattered around the world. Who knew I’d have a friend in Sofia who we could meet up for dinner with?! He ordered a mountain of food for us, insisted we try the Bulgarian rakia. When in Bulgaria… Despite having a baby on the way (update the little one was born a week after our visit) he insisted on contributing to “our cause” of trying to make it a full year (or more) around the world. So, not only are my friends leading amazing lives in foreign countries all around the world, they are generous to boot. (Thanks a million, Mark. Dinner is on us next time!) Below, he threw up the Bulgarian thumbs up and I threw down the Korean peace sign. Because we’re gangster travelers like that.

Day 265: Nargila in Istanbul

“We’re back in the ‘bul.” as Andrew liked to say.

We woke up late, as one should after nearly fourteen hours of travel. We lounged in Juliet and Daniel’s apartment until meeting up with Josh, Leanne, and Margarita for dinner. Meeting up with friends at a subway or tram stop in a foreign city will never, ever get old. It’s one of my favorite things. I’ve met friends in the middle of Prague, at a random subway stop in Tokyo, and a rooftop bar in Chiang Mai – to name a few. It’s one of the perks of being a traveler. Your friends travel and sometimes they happen to be traveling through the same country you are in or they go out of their way to visit or meet up with you on your journey.

We met at the Eminou tram stop and headed for a fun dinner under Galata Bridge.  “Lady… Listen. Listen… Lady.” the waiter kept trying to interrupt our nonstop catch up to get our order. Leanne and I rolled our eyes. Josh and Andrew ordered beers. Margarita sat enthralled (I’m going to go ahead and pick that adjective, as it’s much more fun than ‘bored’ as she probably was) at us catching up on our past few months of adventures in different countries on our respective trips around the world.

Because of Josh’s newfound love of nargila (hookah to you) we all jumped on the tram after dinner and headed to a rather infamous little alley in an old madrassa in Sultanamet for a spot of tea and a few draws off the ole’ pipe. Not that kind of pipe. It’s much less incriminating than it sounds. At this particular institution, and you get the feeling that it is an institution, old men sat playing backgammon or simply taking a break in between work and their walk home. It’s calm despite the hustle of the men who work there serving tea or heating up and delivering coals to their patrons’ pipes. I had a bit of a “Oh, so this is Turkey…” feeling.

We’ve seen wonderful things here in Turkey (my favorite possibly being Goreme) but it has all felt overly touristy and I was starting to wonder what all of the fuss (over Turkey) has been about. But tonight, I started to get it. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed our time in Turkey, it’s just that I expected rainbows and unicorns every day all the time from the way our friends gushed over their visits here.

A friend recently asked what I thought about Turkey and I wasn’t as positive as I should have been. The factors of our stay didn’t work in our favor. Turkey IS amazing. I can see how it would have felt more amazing for us if we (mostly Andrew) weren’t stuck wearing the same clothes for a week, maybe if were staying in the heart of Istanbul, and we weren’t on a strict budget (trying to make up for an expensive three months in Africa). Andrew pointed out that it was probably unfair of us to put such high expectations on Turkey. It’s one of those countries I already know I’d like to revisit- with less expectation and perhaps more money.

We left our friends earlier than we would have liked to catch the tram/funicular/subway/taxi combination “home.” I was disappointed to have to leave, yet so grateful for Josh, Leanne, and Margarita for showing us a different side of Istanbul that we might not have seen otherwise.

Day 264: Selcuk to Istanbul

We debated whether or not going to Izmir was worth it… and then we heard from our friends Josh and Leanne (remember them? Our friends from our Tanzanian safari a few months ago) that they had just arrived in Istanbul and would be there for a few days.

Meeting up with new friends is just as good as meeting up with old friends. We decided to skip Izmir and headed back to Istanbul to not only stay/visit with our friends, Juliet and Daniel, but to hang out with Josh, Leanne, and their friend Margarita. We are lucky, lucky ducks.

Unfortunately, heading back to Istanbul meant another 12-hour bus across the country.  

It should have been 9 hours, but as we’ve found to be the case in Turkey- the drivers enjoy their breaks, and they enjoy them often. We stopped a lot. Often for 30-40 minutes. We reminded each other we’ve survived worse and focused on the positives: We each had our own seat all to ourselves. Our seats reclined! Multiple stops meant multiple opportunities to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was not on the side of the road in front of fellow passengers. There were even doors and tissue within the stalls! And snacks to be purchased along the way did not consist of burnt birds on a stick.

I know you’re jealous of how low my expectations have become.

Our bus dropped us off across town from where Juliet and Daniel live. We didn’t get in until nearly midnight. Walking into their apartment felt like walking into my apartment in Seoul after a week or two out of the country. It felt like home, or as close as home has felt since this trip began.