Czech Again!

“Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience.”  -Francis Bacon

Woke up for the second day in Prague slightly groggy even though I had been in bed for nine hours. It’s not always easy to sleep when you’re staying in a 26-person female dorm where girls start talking as loud as they can when they stumble through the door at 3 a.m.  Earplugs may have been a good investment.

Thankfully, the accommodations in the hostel itself were great.  Breakfast in the main lobby restaurant/bar was reasonably priced, so I started off my day with a veggie omelet.  Only problem was the speed of the service.  We told the waitress we wanted make a tour that was leaving the hostel at 10:15 a.m. and didn’t end up getting our food until 10:20 a.m.   Guess we were on our own for the day.

We hopped on a tram to Prague Castle.  After about 10 minutes, one of the girls in my group realized we were going in the wrong direction, so we had some backtracking to do before arriving at our destination.

We walked up a big hill and found this spectacular view of the rooftops.

Finally, we were at Prague Castle.

I had to make up for not taking a picture with the guards in London.

Some of the girls I was with didn’t want to spend money to go inside, but you’re only in Prague once right?  Three of us decided to escape the cold and see Prague Castle.

The ticket qualified us for entry into a few different places on the grounds including the church above.

Memory candles.

Next on the list was the castle itself.

Photos weren’t permitted, but I managed to sneak a couple.

Crown jewels! Don’t they look fake?

The best part was this adorable little street called Golden Lane, where people lived just 50 years ago.

I call this photo, “The Mad Scientist’s Lab”.

I wonder how they got up there to light those candles?

My friends and I decided we wish we lived back when dresses such as these were the norm.

View from a window.

Amy sized houses :]

THE DUNGEON.

Amazing smelling traditional Czech dessert.

After finding an Italian restaurant for lunch, we went off in search of the Communist Museum, which one of our friends said was really interesting.

We arrived at what we thought was the correct street after at least an hour of walking, tramming, and metroing.  Another American college student who we had met the day before at the Lennon Wall, Johnny, told us he knew where it was and was waiting for us in the McDonald’s near it.  One problem: there were at least two McDonald’s in sight and no sign for the Communist Museum.

We ended up wandering up and down this street multiple times because whenever we asked someone where the Communist Museum was, they would point in whatever direction we had just come from.  We were frustrated, to say the least.  We ended up telling Johnny to come meet us under a giant sign on the street.  When he arrived, everyone was so cold and exhausted they just wanted to go back to the hostel to rest up.  Being the traveler that I am, I wasn’t about to miss something we had spent so much time trying to find just because I was tired.  I convinced my friend Hannah to come with Johnny and me to the museum.

The museum was actually on a different street and completely hidden inside of another building.  Even thought it made it tough to find, it turned out to be a good thing because it wasn’t crowded.

The man who started it all.

Examples of the many brainwashing mechanisms.  The museum showed how communism worked through the utilization of fear.  For example, the government would conduct random drills in which people had to put on gas masks and practice what they would do if the U.S. used chemical warfare on them.

Communist tea party?

Peace.

We went straight from the Communist Museum to dinner because we had reservations from the night before at the Thai place.  All ten of us ordered pad thai and it sure was delicious.  For dessert, I ordered something made from rice, coconut milk, and mango. Worth every sweet calorie.

That night, I decided to actually go out for a little bit as long as I didn’t have to walk far in the cold.  We found a bar nearby that was filled with people in costume.  We realized we didn’t get the memo on proper attire, so we left.  We stumbled across a really cool looking bar right across the street that was playing SPANISH MUSIC!  A little taste of Spain in Prague :]

The next day, we went to the Jewish Quarter, which was the last spot to visit on our list.

Names of people who were transported from Prague during the Holocaust.

Old Jewish Cemetary.

My last name in one of the museums!

Beautifullll temple.

The ceiling. Literally had my camera next to my stomach and pointed it up to get this photo inconspicuously.

Oh my god, this lunch.  We went into a vegetarian restaurant with reasonable prices and a good sounding menu.  I ordered the “burger”, which consisted of goat cheese, spinach, and eggplant.  Best decision ever.

We did a bit of souvenir shopping and I bought the coveted and oh-so-touristy “Czech Me Out” t-shirt.  We went back to the hostel to grab our bags and headed off to the airport for our 8 pm flight.  Delays and turbulence created some frustration, but we got home safely.  It was a wonderful weekend in what I like to call the Fairytale City.

Czech Me Out!

“Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.” -Ray Bradbury

(more on that quote later)

Not even five days after returning from Morocco, I got got on yet another plane to yet another awesome place, Prague, Czech Republic.  It was an early start to the day, i.e., 3:45 a.m., in order to board a bus to the airport by 4:30 a.m. to catch my 7 a.m. flight.  Needless to say, I was exhausted when we arrived in Prague, but there’s no time to sleep when there are sights to see!

We dropped our belongings off at the hostel, grabbed some lunch nearby, and hauled our tired selves onto the streets of Prague.  We stumbled across a pretty church and took a peak inside on our way.

We continued walking up a street that we thought was bringing us to the Old Town Square.  Such begins the relevancy of the opening quote.

Instead we stumbled across yet another church to look at since that’s practically all there is in Europe.

This picture shows just how nice the weather was the first day in Prague.  Clear, blue skies, but a little crisp for my body, which has gotten too used to the warm weather of Madrid.

To keep my fingers warm, I ended up buying some fun mittens!  They’ll probably be my most useful Europe souvenir when I return to the North Pole Syracuse in January.

After visiting the church, we found out from some friendly Czech kids that we were in a completely different area than we thought we were.  Thankfully, the pointed us in the right direction.

The National Museum.

Solid friendship (HAH get it?)

Finally, we came across Old Town Square. It’s quite reminiscent of a fairy tale.

Sweet snack from a food stand at a flea market. Mmmm berries.

If only I had had room in my backpack to take home Pinocchio.

The astronomical clock.

According to Wikipedia, “The clock was first installed in 1410, making it the third-oldest astronomical clock in the world and the only one still working.”

St. Nicholas Church in the Old Town Square.

We continued our long loop around the old side of town.

When I had blisters on my feet at the end of the day, I realized we should’ve opted for one of these.

Beautiful Gothic architecture.

We walked along the river toward the famous Charles Bridge.  The highest, pointiest building in the top right corner of this photo is the cathedral at Prague Castle, which I visited the next day.

The colors of dusk set the stage for some great photo-ops.

View of the Charles Bridge.

View from the Charles Bridge.

It was lined with vendors selling artwork, jewelry, souvenirs, etc.

Funny story: we saw a man wearing a Syracuse University hat when we were walking along the bridge, so my friends and I went up to him to tell him that we attend there.  His son is also a junior at Syracuse and lived on the same floor freshman year as one of the girls that I was with!  Such a small world.

At the other side of the bridge lies more cute stores/restaurants, the Prague Castle, and the Lennon Wall.

At first when I heard people talking about this, I thought it was the “Lenin” Wall as in the Marxist Soviet ruler, Vladimir Lenin, considering Czechoslovakia used to be a USSR satellite state.  When I arrived and saw Beatles quotes, I was happy to find out I was wrong.

Love locked to a bridge, like in Paris.

We headed back to the hostel to rest up a bit.  That didn’t last too long because we were all starving, so we asked the receptionist where we could find a Thai restaurant in the area (Prague is known for having good Thai food).  She sent us to a restaurant a block away that looked great, but it was full for the next hour.  We decided to make reservations there for the following night.  It took a while to find a restaurant that would seat all 10 of us, but we eventually made our way into a foggy-aired pub-like eatery.  Much to my dismay, smoking is still permitted inside of buildings in Prague.  Besides choking on fumes for the entirety of the meal, my dinner was absolutely delicious.  Unfortunately, at this moment I failed at complete documentation of my travels because I was too hungry to remember to take a picture of the meal.  I forgot that I had taken a picture with my friend’s camera because mine was back at the hostel!  I was looking through her facebook pictures and came across it this morning. Better late than never!

Potato gnocchi with ham and sauerkraut paired with a salad.

Most of the group went out that night, but it was around 30 degrees outside and I was drained from sleeping three hours the night before, so I decided to head back to the hostel and rest up for another long day of touring.

 

Vlogging

Welcome to my shortest post ever!  I spent the entire day after I returned from Morocco glued to iMovie making a photo slideshow (or vlog/video log, hence the title) to commemorate the unforgettable trip.  I can’t load videos onto wordpress, so click the photo above to watch it on youtube! Enjoy :]

Morocco: Last 18 hours

“Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced – even a proverb is no proverb to you till your life has illustrated it”       -John Keats

Oh, Chefchaouen.

Picturesque periwinkle perfection.

We drove into this amazing city as the sun was setting, which made for some great out-the-bus-window photos.

We dropped our backpacks off at the hotel and had two hours of free time, which we dedicated to spending the rest of our dirhams (Moroccan money).

It wasn’t too difficult when there was henna to be had and an enticing number of scarves, flip flops, jewelry, etc. to buy.

Best part of the Moroccan shopping experience, bargaining.  I didn’t purchase anything for over 10 dollars.

That night, I ate a farewell dinner with the group.

Chicken, almond, and prune tagine, which is a traditional Moroccan stew.  The sauce was so sweet, I would’ve licked the bowl had I not been in public.

As for dessert, orange slices sprinkled with cinnamon…why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?! Simply genius.

We made the most of our last day and awoke early to take a morning walk through the town.  Myself and my roommates were especially exhausted because we had been the only ones lucky enough to wake up to the twenty minute call to prayer at 4:45 a.m coming from the mosque right outside our window.  Muslims pray five times a day, one of which is at sunrise, and at these times someone sings from a mosque to alert people of the time.  We had heard the call to prayer in other towns earlier in the weekend,  but I had yet to experience it at the wee hours of the morning.

We embarked on our tour at 7 a.m. and weaved our way through the labyrinth-like streets

until we reached the end of the town

where a river played host to women doing laundry.

With the introduction of a mountain and a dirt path, our leisurely morning stroll turned into a hike, but if I turned my head to the right, I could see the view.

When we reached our destination, the group sat on the ledge catching our breath and taking it all in.

I loved how half the city was still dark, while the other half was light.  It made me think about how so many people are in the dark about other cultures/people and end up making assumptions based upon false information.  My trip to Morocco helped me move toward the light in my understanding of Islam, Arabs, Africans, and third world countries.  Nobody can ever take that away from me.

I continued taking pictures as we descended, but this one topped them all.  I happened to snap this shot of this beautiful little girl at precisely the right moment because one second later, she was in the shade and then in her house.

Breakfast was waiting for us at a restaurant when we got back into town.

Soon enough we were back at Tangier Airport

and then in the air looking at the coast of Spain out the window once again.

Besides these blog posts and three Facebook albums dedicated to the weekend, I decided to make a video slideshow.  As my Spanish host mom says, take a trip to Morocco in 6 Minutes.  But seriously, if you ever have the opportunity to visit Morocco, DO IT!  I learned more in a few days than I would’ve in a full semester class.  It turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life.

Morocco Day 3

 “Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends. ” -Maya Angelou

I woke up to day 3 in Morocco feeling slightly less nauseous than the night before, thankfully.  I knew I had a few hour bus ride to a rural town ahead of me, so I popped a dramamine and prepared myself to continue sleeping off my sickness.

Before I could take that nap, however, we stopped at a mausoleum in Rabat that we were unable to visit the day before because it had been Friday (the holy day).

The small columns were originally built to be the base of a mosque, but the project was never completed.

The mausoleum in which the two previous kings are buried.

If this had been in Europe, photos wouldn’t have been allowed.

Even the guards didn’t mind a short photoshoot!

We waved goodbye to Rabat and two hours later waved hello to these friendly children in the small Moroccan village of Calaa.

We got out of the bus and walked down a long dirt path to the house where we would spend our afternoon.

Only one person from our group was allowed to bring a camera so as not to overwhelm the people in the village.  I convinced everyone to allow me to take on the responsibility :]

Here are the highlights:

Meeting the family.  They didn’t speak English, but we had an interpreter.

Playing “football” with the little ones.

The sweetest/funniest children!

No matter where they live and what language they speak, 5-year-olds will always be energetic, hilarious, and adorable.

Appetizers under an olive tree.  Don’t forget to take off your shoes!

Couscous and sandwiches for lunch.

My favorite part of the meal, a flavorful pea dish.

Green, yet sweet mandarin oranges being offered to us by our host Muhammed.

Mmmm some Moroccan tea to accompany an insightful discussion.  Muhammed asked each person in our group about ourselves, our families, our dreams, and our hopes for the future (including if we want to get married and how many children we want to have, which is a common question in Morocco).  We talked about everything from what it’s like to live on the farm in the Moroccan countryside to how the elderly are cared for and breast feeding practices in the U.S. (Muhammed was shocked to hear about breast pumps and actually compared them to gas stations haha).  Muhammed was full of questions and so eager to learn about American culture, which is drastically different from his own.

Muhammed is a farmer and grows his own vegetables and fruits such as pomegranates and olives.

He even makes his own olive oil using this…

The contraption gets filled with olives and a donkey attached to the rod walks in a circle until the olives are crushed.  The crushed olives are then moved to a storage unit where the oil rises to the top and is collected.

The donkey we came across during our walk around the family’s property.  Stay tuned for more donkey photos.

Hiking up the hill.

What a view!

It doesn’t get much better than getting a private tour of the Rif Mountains in Africa…

Unless you also get to ride a donkey after!

It was a special afternoon with some lovely people and I was sad to say goodbye.  When I bent down to give the 5-year-old a hug, he planted a kiss right on my cheek.  My heart immediately melted.

We had quite the weaving bus ride through the mountains on our way to Chefchaouen, where spent our last night, but it was a nice time to reflect upon the unforgettable experience we had had that afternoon and the connections we had made.  No matter where you go, people are always people.  There may be cultural differences, but on the inside we all just want to be loved, have fun, eat good food, be taken care of, and live life.

Morocco Day 2

“The more I traveled the more I realized that fear makes strangers of people who should be friends.” – Shirley MaLaine

We had a packed schedule for Morocco Day 2, so we fueled ourselves with a traditional Moroccan breakfast.

The closest thing to pancakes I’ve had since I left the U.S. Much lighter and not as fluffy or sweet, but delicious with a bit of jelly. This was of course accompanied by that addicting, and oh so sugary, Moroccan tea I mentioned in my last post.

We took a drive through Rabat, the political capital of Morocco (Casablanca is the business capital).  In order to learn a little bit about the poverty that grips so many people in third-world countries, we passed by a shantytown.

The government built apartments across the street for these people to live in, but the rent was too expensive and most of them had to move out.  Even though I’ve seen pictures, such as these, of shantytowns, it was heartbreaking to see it right outside the bus window.

When we arrived at this center, we watched a short film about the origins of intercultural exchange programs between Americans and Moroccans.  You can check it out here. I might actually watch it again as well because the sound wasn’t working great and I missed half of it.

After the video, we experienced our own intercultural dialogue with 5 young Moroccan men.  The conversation got a bit heated when we discussed politics, but I learned that Moroccans have a lot of respect for their king and their political system, which is an absolute monarchy.  They do not envy American democracy (and made the point that it really isn’t a democracy) and do not appreciate the U.S. trying to press its government system on others.  They understand that it works for the U.S., but it’s not going to work for everyone.  Also, pictures like the one above of the current Moroccan king can be found in practically every building in Morocco.  Apparently the pose/scenery can change depending on the business where it is displayed i.e. skiing King at a travel agency.

Speaking of the King, he is often found out and about in Morocco.  He actually was in Rabat the same time as we were and may have driven past us in one of those cars above!

Markets are all over Morocco, so we walked through yet another one after finishing up our discussion.

Next stop, one of my favorite places in Rabat, but of course I don’t remember the name of it.

We were greeted by a traditional Moroccan drummer.  Definitely felt like I was actually in Africa at that moment.

We had a quick snack before meeting up with the tour guide.

Surprise…SIAMESE BANANA!  It was even more satisfying than cracking open an egg and finding a double yolk.

Second surprise…roman ruins in Morocco?!

The town was destroyed by an earthquake manyyy years ago.  This area once had bathrooms.

There are stork nests on all of the high points.

Beautiful gardens lined the ruins.

It is a tradition for women to go to this pond to feed hard boiled eggs to the animals,

which are eels (you can see one on the left side of this photo). EEK!

There were also tonnns of cats around.  Great for photos, not for allergies.

We headed back to our “homes” for Friday couscous lunch, which had been hyped up since the beginning of the trip.

It was everything I expected it to be and more.

After lunch, we had some time to rest, but why take a break when you’re in such an awesome place?  We went shopping with the other American student staying with our host family for the entire semester and she helped me bargain for a cute leather purse!

We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around an area known as the Keshba with Moroccan students.

From gardens

to a water-front café

and white washed houses,

the Keshba is by far one of the most beautiful places in Rabat.

It was also a cool feeling being able to dip my feet into the water on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.  When I was younger, I would always go to the beach, look at the horizon, and say Africa is over there!  Who knew I would actually be there one day.

I started writing Morocco 2011 plus my name in the sand and the other people in my group followed suit.  One of the Moroccan students, Mohammed, wrote my name in Arabic for me.  The letters look like caligraphy.

We continued walking and ended up at the shopping street I had been to earlier.

Mohammed helped us bargain.

We went to a cafe for a snack and by this time I was so wiped out.  We got to the meeting place 20 minutes late to my dismay (I’m still not used to the “time is relative” facet of Mediterranean culture).  Thankfully we only had a short walk to my host family’s house, which was where we met with Fulbright scholars and members of the Peace Corps.  We actually all sat around the room I slept in the two nights I was there.  Moroccan guest bedrooms are lined with couches, so they are also used as a lounge.

It was very interesting hearing about their experiences, but let’s just say I’m not cut out for Peace Corps life.  By the end of the presentation, my eyes were closed and I was starting to feel nauseous.  I thought it was just the result of exhaustion, so I forced myself to take part in the optional group activity for that night, which was a traditional public bath at a hammam.

Even though Moroccan women dress conservatively in public, they seem to be less modest than Americans behind closed doors.  There are separate areas in the hammam for men and women, therefore, people traditionally bathe naked.  Our host mom showed us what to do, which included stripping down to our underwear, going into a steam room, filling up huge buckets of water, and sitting on mats on the ground scrubbing ourselves and each other.  My friends and I said we felt very in touch with our sisterhood at that moment.  I even paid a woman about $3 to scrub my back with a traditional mesh cloth that covers the hand.  My dry skin peeled off like spaghetti!  It felt good to know all that gunk was off of me.

We returned home for dinner, but I could barely even get down two bites.  I’ll leave out the details, but I definitely learned the hard way not to eat apples in Morocco without peeling them.  I eventually fell asleep and got the rest I needed to enjoy the remainder of my trip.

Morocco Day 1

 “Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

Well folks, I’ve made it to and from the 9th country, 3rd continent I’ve been to in my 20 years of life: Morocco, Africa.

Seriously, the trip of a lifetime!  The quote I chose to start this post hits the nail on the head when it comes to describing my experience.  I thought I knew this before, but I truly understand the meaning of not making assumptions about a place/people before experiencing it yourself.   I went with an intercultural program with a a company called Morocco Exchange.  This was really the only way to “do” Morocco safely and thoroughly.  I didn’t want to just hop down to Tangier, get a picture on a camel (which yes, I did do and it was awesome), and call it a trip to Africa.  Morocco is unique and different from any place I had ever visited, I knew I should interact with natives and learn as much as possible about their culture.  During our 4-day jam-packed trip, we went to 4 cities and one rural village, talked to countless Moroccans, spent two nights with a host family in Rabat, saw some beautiful architecture, learned that people are still people no matter where they are, and I happened to take 1,123 photos of it all.  I decided to break it up into multiple posts categorized by days so as not to overwhelm you or myself.  Here it goes:

I left Europe early Thursday afternoon and arrived in the Tangier airport only an hour later.  The flight time spent over water was only about 10 minutes.  The proximity of Spain to Africa is unbelievable.

In the airport, we (which includes myself and 6 other students also studying abroad with Syracuse in Madrid) met our tour guide Jess, a Wales native with a lot of knowledge and a great sense of humor.  We boarded the “magic carpet”, more commonly known as a bus, and were promptly given bottled water and snacks while Jess told us, “Don’t be thirsty. Don’t be hungry. There’s no need to be anything but joyous here.” Well, I’m all for joyousness!

We started off our explorations in Tangier.  We walked through town to a market, where things got kind of fishy…

The sliminess of the floor and the marble eyes staring at me from all directions made me feel a little chicken…

Ok I promise I’ll stop with the awful jokes, but the food pictures are going to keep coming.  Here’s the three-course lunch we ate at the Darma women’s center in Tangier.

The tea in the above photo is drunk multiple times a day by people all over Morocco. It is homemade mint/herb/green tea with a ton of sugar and is so SO good. I’ve found myself craving it since I’ve been back in Spain.

We ate lunch with three Moroccan girls and talked about women’s rights and cultural differences.  Morocco is fairly liberal for a Muslim country and women have the same rights as men.

We took a tour of the center, which offers classes for women in topics such as traditional sewing.

We walked up to the roof of the building where we could see out over Tangier.  See those mountains in the distance?  That’s Spain!

We got back on the bus with full stomachs and a small taste of the Moroccan culture that was yet to come our way.

I shut my eyes for a quick nap and when we made our next stop I didn’t even want to get out of the bus.  That lasted all of 2 seconds because Jess told us she had called “the camel guy” and he just so happened to be in the area!

I chose this fine steed, named him/her Aladdin, and we took a stroll together on the beach during a sunset.

So. Perfect.

Getting up/down is by far the most difficult part of camel riding.  Camels use their hind legs first, then their front legs so if you don’t hold on tight and move your body with the camel, you’re all of a sudden on the sand.  Thankfully, I have a firm enough grip.

We love camels!

After fulfilling our African dreams, we went to a small beach town called Asilah.

I loved the beautiful white washed buildings

And the fact that they allow artists to paint murals on them.  The above mural is in honor of those that have died trying to cross the Straight of Gibraltar aka the gateway to Europe.

We left Asilah and drove to Morocco’s capital, Rabat, where we wold spend the next two nights with a host family.  I slept most of the drive, but one noteworthy event was when we got stopped by police along the highway.  One of the lights on the back of the bus was out, but apparently police stops are very common in Morocco.  The government likes to monitor people’s whereabouts.  You can decide whether that is for protection-sake or not.

We arrived at our home stay in Rabat to a welcoming family and a delicious dinner.

These meatball type things were so tasty I forgot to take a picture until we had almost finished the dish.

Mmmm pomegranate. Why can’t it be cheap in plentiful in the U.S. like it is in Morocco and Spain?!

We went to sleep early to rest up for the next day’s packed schedule. It was a successful first day in Africa!

London Lovin

“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” – Saint Augustine

Second weekend trip of the semester: LONDONLONDONLONDON!

London is the New York City of Europe and there was no way I could come abroad and not visit it. It happened to be the cheapest of all of my flights for the semester and I was also able to stay with a few friends who are studying there.

I flew in Thursday night and took a train from the airport into London.  I had to take a 4 pound subway ride (known as the tube) to Marble Arch, which is pictured above. My friends Shana and Brooke live about five minutes from this beautiful entrance to Hyde Park.

They also live a block away from Wetherby Preparatory School, which Princes Harry and Charles attended…

and Madonna’s flat! Too bad we didn’t get to see her.

or drop off some fan mail.

On Friday, we all (including myself, the seven girls who live in the flat I was staying in, and five girls who also came in for the weekend from Florence. It was a full flat!) headed to the Borough Market for a bite to eat.

Let’s just say, if you can’t find something to eat there, you’re not human.

So many delicious foods were available to sample such as curry chicken

and a wide variety of olive oil.

I decided to go with a fruit smoothie

and the best veggie burger I’ve eaten in my entire life, in a lettuce wrap with veggies and salsa.

Gotta love a man who can flip a good veggie burger!

That afternoon, I met up with a couple friends for a tour of the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation)! We had just talked about the BBC in my Global Perspectives on the Media course, so it was really cool to actually go there.

The building is shaped like a question mark because it is built on a triangular piece of land.  It is not only used for broadcasting news shows, but also for recording comedies, competitive dance, cooking shows, etc.  We got to see the news room and learned some new lingo such as “What’s the prospects?” for “What are today’s stories?”  I’ll have to try that one in broadcasting class at Syracuse one day :]

When it came time for the volunteer portion of the tour, I of course raised my hand and got to be our tour group’s meteorologist of the day.  Unfortunately, I’m still not accustom to Celcius, so that was interesting.

Photo opps were minimal inside the BBC, but here’s a view of the inside of the rounded portion of the question mark.

Tons of celebrities come to the BBC for studio performances and show appearances. We didn’t get to see any on our tour, but we did hear some interesting stories about celebrities’ ridiculous demands.  For example, Madonna wanted a portrait of the pope in her dressing room.  Madame Toussands Wax Museum happened to have an extra wax statue of the Pope lying around, so the BBC put it in her dressing room.  When she walked in, the lights were still dim and she thought the Pope was actually standing there!

After the BBC, I had some delcious pad thai for dinner back at the flat and relaxed for a night out on the town.  I have no pictures from that night, so instead above is a photo of a license plate with my initials!

The next morning, we woke up early to get to Buckingham Palace by 11:30 a.m. for the changing of the guards.

The palace was beautiful, but packed.  We had to push our way through the crowd to get close to the fence.

Here are the best pictures I could manage to get which were both taken as a quickly walked past the front gate while being yelled at to keep moving by the police officers.

Even though I didn’t exactly get to “watch” the whole process, it was still surreal being in front of Buckingham Palace and actually seeing the soldiers with the fuzzy hats that I’ve seen in so many photos.

Quick story: one of my friends was standing up on that black and gold fence, as were many others. As she was about to descend back to the ground, a guard yelled at her “GET DOWN!” then immediately said “YOU, COME HERE!”. He proceeded to ask her what her nationality was (American) and how she would feel if he came to the White House or the Lincoln Memorial and started climbing on those fences (she just nodded). We all thought she was about to get arrested.

Thankfully, it ended fine, so we laughed it off and managed to smile for the camera on the fountain.

And honor Princess Diana ❤

As we walked along the park between the Palace and Parliament Square, we realized something looked a little different than the countries we’re currently spending the semester in (Spain, France, and Italy).  Oh yea…AUTUMN LEAVES!

Finally, we reached the main London attraction. Big Ben. It is 10x more beautiful in real life than in photographs.

While we were at the #1 tourist attraction in London, of course we had to do the most touristy thing: the telephone booth picture. There are literally lines to wait in to get in the booth and, no, nobody is making a call.  The phones do work though!

Parliament is closed to the public, but it is beautiful from the outside.

As is its next-door neighbor…

Westminister Abbey.  We could’ve taken a tour of it, but with only two days in London, time was of the essence.

We took a few snapshot of the London Eye from across the river and decided to head back to the flat to meet up with people for the rest of the afternoon.

We came across some strangely dressed people gathered around Marble Arch,

How could I have forgotten that October 8th is International Zombie Day! There were hundreds drinking “blood” and “shuffling” around Hyde Park.

We grabbed a quick lunch and took the tube toward Abbey Road. Right when we got there, a two women and a cameraman came up to us asking if we were Americans.  They were from NBC!!!  They ended up interviewing my friend Shana because she was the only one who actually knew something about Paul McCartney’s wedding the following day.  I of course ended up talking to the girl interviewing us, who is actually an American intern, about NBC’s internship program.  Out of all the things London had to offer, I must admit meeting people from NBC made my day.

We almost got ran over trying to take this picture, but I had to do it for my Dad who showed me the Abbey Road Beatles record cover years ago.

I loved all of the inspiring messages written in front of the Abbey Studio.

After relishing in legendary music, we decided to switch to legendary books/movies…

HARRY POTTER!

On my way to Hogwarts!

The Hogwarts Express ;]

Last stop of the day, Top Shop in Oxford Circus.  I bought a pair of dark washed denim shorts, although the weather in London probably made me look crazy for buying summer clothes.   Thankfully, in Madrid it’s still 80 and sunny every single day.

I headed back to good old Madrid on Sunday morning.  It was nice to be back at home with my señora and speaking Spanish again.

Next stop: AFRICA

La corrida de toros

“Don’t listen to what they say. Go see.” -Chinese Proverb

When you think of Spain, you think of bullfights.  Even though I had a feeling I would hate every minute of it, I knew would regret returning to the U.S. without having seen one.  I have heard many different opinions on bullfighting since I’ve been in Spain, so I wanted to go see what it was all about for myself.

Before I get to the gore, here’s a photo of my psuedo-family!  They come over for lunch almost every Saturday, but this was the first time since I’ve been here that all of them could make it.

I met up with some friends at La Plaza de Toros at Las Ventas.  My señora had told me that even if I had to leave after they kill the first bull (there are a total of 6 bulls killed every fight) I needed to at least go see the stadium and experience the ambiance.

We sat all the way at the top, but for 4,70 euros, I couldn’t have asked for much more.  We still had a clear view and I was perfectly happy being as far away from the action as possible.  However, we were on the opposite side of the sun, so we were practically baking.  It’s October in Madrid and still in the 80s!

The stadium was completely packed and the interesting part is that the majority of spectators aren’t tourists.  Bullfights are still apparently a normal weekend afternoon activity for many Spaniards.

The best part of the bullfight is the aesthetic appeal of the outfits.  They are intricate, colorful, and even include neon pink socks!

VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED for the remainder of this post

The first bull (the black one above) came out and ran around the ring, while the toreros (bullfighters) taunted him with cape and then hid behind spaces in the wall.  They stabbed him a couple times during which I screamed, of course.  I think the first stab was the worst part of the whole fight because, as much as I hate to say it, I got a bit desensitized to it went on.  However, something was wrong with this particular bull and they determined he was not fit for the fight.  They let in 8 other bulls (the black and white ones) who in turn ushered the other bull out.  Although I’m still unsure exactly why, one life was saved!

The second bull was definitely less feisty to start off with than the first, but he just needed a few minutes to warm up.

In this photo, one of the toreros had just fallen on the ground and abandoned not only his cape, but also his shoes and hat.  I guess if your life is on the line it’s okay to get your  bright pink socks dirty.

The red and white spears in the bull’s back are banderillas, which are used to weaken the bull.

Eventually, he died :[

The process continued with 5 other bulls.  I found it to be monotonous after a while, but that’s probably because I don’t understand all of the technicalities of it.

The torero is getting ready to stab the bull with the banderillas.  It’s pretty wild to watch because he lets the bull charge toward him, jumps up, stabs him, then manages to run away without being attacked.

My friends and I left halfway through the fight with the 5th bull.  At that point, I felt like I had seen all I needed to and I was surprised that I had even made it past the first killing.

Even though I still disagree with the fact that a sport is centered around animal abuse, I’m glad I experienced a bullfight.  It is important to Spanish culture and history, plus the ambiance truly is unbelievable.  It is something that I needed to witness once in my life and I never have to attend again.

Political Madrid

“People who don’t travel cannot have a global view, all they see is what’s in front of them.
Those people cannot accept new things because all they know is where they live.”
-Martin Yan

This past week was midterms week, meaning by them time the weekend rolled around I was wiped out.  Nevertheless, I got myself out of bed around 8 a.m. on Friday to go on yet another tour of Madrid that I had signed up for the week before.

Madrid is the capital of Spain, which of course means there are lots of political happenings here.  My school offered an exclusive inside of the Spanish Senate and Congress for free.  As a (half) International Relations major with a geographic area specialization of Europe, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see the inner workings of a European country’s government.  Now that I think about it, I haven’t even been inside government buildings in Washington D.C.  I’ll add that to the to-do list.

We had an informative and detailed tour of the Senate.  This closest seats in the above picture belong to Spain’s leftward leaning political party, the PSOE (Partido Socialista Obrero Español).  The other main political party, the rightward leaning PP (El partido popular), sits on the exact opposite side of the room.  The smaller political parties, no matter where they fall, sit in the center.  The main room in the Congress building is set up exactly the same way.  In Spain, the representatives votes must align with all the others in their political party, otherwise they are fined.

The older part of the building used to be a church/convent.  This room looked straight out of a movie.

As did the library.  The tour guide even said it looks like it’s from Harry Potter.

If only I could actually go there to study!

We walked around a little bit and stopped at a café because we were early for our tour of Congress.  I had the best orange juice I’ve ever had in my life, which is saying a lot considering I used to live in Florida.  Spain’s oranges are absolutely delicious though.

Congress was just as pretty as the Senate, but unfortunately they are very strict and we were “forbidden” from taking pictures.  Instead, we took one on the steps outside.

The most interesting part of the Congress visit was when we were in the main meeting room, where a coup d’etat occurred in 1981. There are still bullet holes in the ceiling and walls.

Most of the group decided to leave at this point, but three other students and myself decided to stay for the rest of the afternoon.  After having a relaxing lunch at an Italian restaurant with our teacher, Pilar, we continued our political journey through Madrid.

The Spanish Stock Market building

Wearing one of the highest awards given to Spanish politicians. I would like to extend a thank you to my friend Lorne for taken the above picture and the awesome one below.

Our teacher, Pilar, had a ton of interesting artifacts because she wrote a book on past politician Francisco Fernández Ordóñez.

She even has letters from the King of Spain to Francisco Fernández!

The above card was signed by the royal family the year I was born.

On our way to see a memorial in El Parque del Retiro, we stopped at what Pilar says is her favorite building in Madrid.  Tommy Hilfiger offices are up those steps.

My favorite part was the painted elevator.

We entered El Retiro on the side opposite of where I live, so it was nice to see a different part of it.  The park is so large I practically feel like I won’t see all of it by the time I leave in December.

The purpose of our visit was to see a memorial dedicated to the people that died in the March 11, 2004 Madrid train attacks. 191 more lives Al-Qaeda decided to take away.

We sat on park benches discussing the incident when Pilar’s husband and 21-month-old son showed up for a visit.

As the Spaniards say, ¡qué mono!

How cute!

Like most other almost 2-year-olds, he’s a little ball of energy and I ended up chasing him around and trying to speak to him in a mix of English and Spanish because he is learning both languages.  His favorite English word is spoon and Pilar demonstrated how excited he gets when he sees one because he knows it means that food is on its way.

We continued our walk through my favorite park in the world.

We arrived at the train station in Atocha, where the train bombings occurred, to see another memorial.

It’s a giant balloon filled with the hopeful words of notes placed in the train station after the attacks.

I could’ve sat there and read it all day.

It even caught the attention of the 21-month-old.

I headed home after seeing this, but I’m glad I decided to stay with the teacher for the afternoon because I wouldn’t have come to see this powerful memorial on my own.

Peace. Freedom. ♥.