London: I'm never underestimating a city again

“I guess I’ll go to London. I may as well since I’m doing Ireland and Scotland. I’ll just spend a few days there.”

Biggest regret I’ve ever had.

When I arrived to London, Stansted Airport, I immediately took a 1.5 hour bus ride to Finchley Road where I walked down the road to find my Hostel, which looked like an old Victorian House. It got amazing reviews so I was actually looking forward to it. But when I arrived, everyone was very quiet, there were a lot of older families there and I just wasn’t feeling the vibe. (Trust me, if you don’t feel a vibe in a hostel, you’re not going to enjoy it at all) So that night, instead of exploring the city (regret), I decided to hang back in the hostel and just go to bed.

The next day I told myself to get on that tube and just go somewhere. Anywhere. I chose Buckingham Palace. How was it? Umm, it was a palace. It was big. Looked like houses is Alpine, NJ. But it was located in such an odd location. Smack in the middle of the road. You would think it would be something like the white house but it wasn’t. There was a gate, those guards that you try and constantly make laugh, and some grass. So I continued on through the park and came across Parliament. Ask me anything about politics. Go ahead, ask. I will be you $1 that I will not know the answer. And I will tell you now, I will not know the answer. Why? Because I don’t care. I hate politics. I don’t know how they work. I don’t want to know how they work. Yay for honesty hour! But for some god forsaken reason I decided to buy a very overpriced ticket to go inside. I’m not going to lie, it was actually pretty cool to see both sides of Parliament and how they are separated and their beliefs. It was something to cross off my list. After Parliament, I walked by Westminster Abbey, didn’t go in because it was close to closing and decided to head over to a restaurant called Feathers and grab a burger that just wasn’t good. So at that point, I lost all hope in London and headed back to the hostel. A girl, nicknamed Hut, in my room started talking to me and we got pretty close and decided to go to dinner together. That’s when Q came in. He texted me about my trip and offered to take me out for a drink. At that point I was over London and just wanted to do something else so I agreed and later that night we went out.

He picked me up at the hostel and we headed to the local pub and underground wine bar where we talked about family and just our lives in general. It was exactly what I needed. Sometimes the only thing you need to make you smile is just a friend to talk to about everything. And he was exactly that. I felt super comfortable and started to enjoy myself and the London scene at night. He was so friendly that I didn’t’ want it to end, so I extended the invited of my wandering around London the next day to him and he told me to message him, which I did.

The next morning I decided to tour the Tower of London because I was told that it was a must-see when visiting London and although it was pouring and freezing that day, I have to agree. It was an incredible castle in London, full of history and beauty. Afterwards, I met back up with Q in the center of town and we just walked around, talked some more, grabbed some food, and rode on the carousel next to the Eye. He later invited me out in Campden (party central) to meet some of his friends. I knew that I wouldn’t go out drinking unless it was with people so of course I accepted the invite and met everyone later on in the night. It was probably one of the most fun times I’ve had in a long time. All of the people I met there were so heart-warming and friendly that it was as if I’d known them for ages. Finally, the night ending around 5am, I knew I was falling in love with London. I didn’t want to leave the next day.

My final day in London was quite saddening. I was planning on going to the aquarium or Westminster but the weather was rare at 75 degrees in October so I decided to take advantage of that and go to Hyde Park with my book and just read until I had to meet my Couchsurfing Host who would put me up that night before my flight the following morning. When I was at the park, Q surprised me by offering to meet me and it was the perfect ending with a true friend I’d only known for about 3 days. It’s funny how you can become so close to somebody within hours. So saying goodbye to him was quite hard but it was time for my next new adventure.

Around 6pm I met with my host, my first host ever, Nathan who was incredibly sweet. He welcome me with open arms. We went out for Indian food (one of my favorites), and then he took me on a night tour of London. The one thing I’ve learned so far while travelling, is that the city is so different at night versus daytime. The night sky is illuminated with the stars and the buildings that fill the city. The London Bridge was glowing with blue lights while Big Ben was shining bright while the time was ticking away. If it wasn’t for Couchsurfing, I don’t think I would’ve seen any of it. He gave me a tour and a history lesson. He made me laugh and made me look harder at my surroundings. I will never forget that night and the fact that he put me up for the night, for free.

London certainly was full of surprises. I met some amazing people, drank some horrible beer, ate some horrible food, but had the time of my life in a place I thought I was going to hate from the very beginning. I guess that truly shows that you can’t judge anything until you fully experience it.

Details:

Ryanair Flight: 12 Euros from Eindhoven, Holland – London Stansted Airport

Hostel: Palmer’s Lodge – Swiss Cottage. Approximately 18 pounds a night ($25)

Mode of transport: Oyster card (5 pounds + how much you put on it) – Tube/Walking

 

Amsterdam: Where a coffee shop doesn't actually sell coffee

This may sound lame. Okay, it is going to sound lame, but I love museums. And when I say that, I actually mean it. So this part of my trip, consists primarily of museums. That means that this may be the post that you pretend to read and just close down the tab and send me a message that says it was amazing even though it was probably more boring than reading a brochure about air.

But let’s see how long you’ll stick around, shall we?

Because I have been to Holland before and because I am also ending my trip there before I head back to the states, I decided that this would be the country where I would attempt to get rid of all jetlag. I never set an alarm, I was in no rush, and I did whatever I had time to do. I just didn’t think all three days I would wake up at 11am. So, yeah, my days were pretty much fucked once I woke up (excuse my language)

For my first day, I had purposely slept until 11….yeah, let’s go with that. I wanted to try and rid of any jetlag that I had and clearly I had a lot since it lasted 3 days. But I had made my schedule for that day anyways: Find a good place for breakfast since I hadn’t eaten well in days and go back to the Anne Frank Huis. After a quick 20 minutes train ride to Amsterdam, I immediately found the breakfast place I had in mind, Greenwoods, very easy to find. Right on the canal. (Ha, get it? It’s a joke. There are a billion canals, you’ll never find it) And just for the record, that was one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time so I would highly recommend it if you ever have the chance to go to Amsterdam. After, I made my way to the Anne Frank Huis. Because it wasn’t a weekend, I didn’t have to wait for more than 20 minutes to get in. Upon entering, I told myself to read everything and watch every movie that the tour had to offer because the previous time I was there, I was with a tour and I will tell you, I didn’t listen at all. But I will tell you this, every single time that I go to Amsterdam, I will be going back to that museum. It is incredibly emotional, heartfelt, and deep, it leaves you so thankful for everything you have in life. Seeing where she lived for all those years, the words she wrote, the risks they had to take to keep their family alive; it hits your like a bullet. At the end of the tour, you are able to write a thank you note to Anne. If there wasn’t a word limit, I probably could’ve written to her all day. But just writing that note was incredibly emotional. The entire room was silent while they were writing. I read some others that people wrote from all over the world and to see how much she affected everyone around the globe was extraordinary. That house may be small, but the impact it has when you walk out, is bigger than anything you can ever imagine.

By the time I left the museum, it was almost 5pm, when all the museums close, so I pretty much had no other options for the day. Sjors met me at the train station around 6 and we decided to take the ferry to the other area of Amsterdam and go out for a really nice dinner overlooking the water. We pretty much spent the entire meal trying to get me to understand football (happy Sjors?) And no, I still don’t get it. By the time we arrived back to Hilversum, it was past midnight and we headed to bed.

The next day, I honestly can’t remember what I did in the morning, but it wasn’t all that interesting so I ended up going to the Van Gogh Museum and walking throughout Amsterdam for the entire day. Tip: GO. TO THE VAN GOGH MUSEUM. GO. I DON’T CARE IF YOU DON’T LIKE MUSEUMS. GO.

                That museum was absolutely beautiful. For a place to hold so many pieces of his work in a timetable style, was brilliant. It started off with his earlier work, who his mentors were, followed by their work, and so on. It explained why he had darker paintings towards the beginning of his career and why The Bedroom and the sunflowers are his most famous pieces. I am happy to say that I might just be a Van Gogh aficionado now. And I am damn proud of that. Following the museum and a good 2 hours stroll throughout the city, I once again met up with Sjors and he took me to see the Red Light District. Yeah yeah, prostitutes. I know. But I find it so funny that it’s almost done with class? That might be too strong of a word but it’s literally window shopping. Every time you see a red light in a window, there is a woman dressed in lingerie and if you want to go in, you knock on the window and if they’re interested, they will talk to you about what you want and you go it and they shut the curtain to the window. They are EVERYWHERE. They even have an apartment building-style area where you walk into a building and instead of doors to apartments, it’s windows with women in it. Quite strange and a little uncomfortable, but hey! When in Amsterdam, right? Apparently there is a blue light district with men, but no one can seem to find it, so I’m starting to believe that’s a fib. So after going window shopping, sadly I did not purchase anything, we headed home again.

Now this was my last night so the one thing I really wanted to do was go to the Rijks Museum. So Wednesday, that is what I did. All day. This museum is MASSIVE. So I would give yourself about 4 hours to go through the whole thing. I only gave myself 3 and missed about 3 levels unfortunately. Instead of staying in Amsterdam again that night, I decided to meet Sjors in Utrecht. It’s just a small city in between Amsterdam and Hilversum. Known to resemble Amsterdam but a lot cheaper and smaller. I adored this city. So much. It was quaint, restaurants and cafes were bordering the canal, filled with locals and tourists enjoying a good beer and some food. The city was lit up by the lights of the church and those inside of the tunnels. For my last night, Sjors took me to this bar that was inside of what was once a functioning church. It was incredible. It was definitely a gem. No tourists (except me), crowded, people laughing, smiling, and clinking their glasses together in honor of a good night. We grabbed a few beers, some fries and bitterballs (don’t ask what’s in them. They’re deep fried and delicious. Get them.)

For all of those that are interested in going to Holland, Amsterdam is truly incredible but Utrecht, is without a doubt, a hidden gem.

I can’t wait to go back.

I Left My Heart in London

(fyi, this post is out of order. Holland is coming tomorrow)

This post has a lot of meaning to me. Which is why I’m designating an entire post to it.

I think that who you meet in life and who you decide to surround yourself with describes you as a person and what you want out of life. I have experienced so much in life: ups and downs, depression and happiness, the loss of good friends, and the gain of so many. I have taught myself that your happiness is dependent on what you do, who you meet, and how you take up time. There is nobody to blame but yourself. If you want to sit and do nothing all day and stare at the wall, then by all means, do it. If you want to go out and party with strangers, hey, I’m not going to be the one to stop you. Happiness has a multitude of definitions and it’s different for every single one of us. And for me, for this specific article, it’s London.

Like I mentioned earlier, my arrival to London was not something I was looking forward to. I had such low expectations, I didn’t really want to be there. I hated my first night in my hostel. No one was friendly, I paid a lot of money for it, and it was very anti-social. But, I’m backpacking; I’m not allowed to be unhappy and I made myself a promise that I had to make the best out of any situation. And I did. I went out and became a tourist, saw things that I wanted to see and walked around until my feet were about to fall off. But I knew it wouldn’t become better until I met someone to hang out with, whether from my hostel or not.

I’m aware this blog is for all to see and I’m just going to say it because face it, we all use it, but I’m on Tinder. I don’t use it much, I just scroll through it and never actually meet anyone. While in bed one night, I decided to go on it because maybe there was somebody that would just be willing to show me around. I matched with plenty but a lot of them didn’t seem like they really wanted to show me around as much as buy me a drink and call it a night. The next day, while gallivanting around the city center, I received a message from, let’s call him Q. He suggested we go out for a beer at a local pub and he was quite friendly so I agreed as long as he got me at my hostel (safety precautions, duh). If there was a night I really needed, it was that one. Just to have interaction with a local and conversation that was entertaining to say the least. The best part about meeting a local is the chance to go to hole-in-the-wall pubs and wine bars, meet their friends, and learn something about the city with somebody else other than a pamphlet.

The following day, after I finished a tour (which I will explain in my London post), I received a message from Q asking where I was and if I wanted to meet. Within 12 hours, I felt like I had already made a best friend in London. It was as if I could talk to him about anything, invite him anywhere, and no matter what, he was there. It was exactly what I needed to make my time there better. I feel like Q knew me better than a lot of my friends back home. He took me around London, he understood that when I squealed walking into a chocolate shop, it’s completely normal. (It is, by the way…to squeal. It’s chocolate.) But what caught me off guard was when I said that I really wanted to go on the carousel and he replied with, “Oh thank god, I really wanted to do it also. I’m so happy you said that.” I’m a kid at heart. Always will be. And for somebody that has known me for 24 hours at the point to understand my little kid personality, was incredibly heart-warming. As the sun was setting, I wanted to head back because I needed to wash up and he invited me out with friends of his for drinks and dancing.

Since I learned to never turn down an offer for drinks, I gladly accepted and met them all out a few hours later. The minute I walked into the first bar, it was as if I’d known them for ages. They were so friendly and welcoming: buying me drinks, dancing with me, taking photos, and putting up with my shenanigans. And to think, if I hadn’t met Q, I most likely would’ve been home on a Saturday night having no clue what to do. I will tell you now, that night, will be one that goes down in history. I don’t think I’ve smiled that much in a long time.

The third day was my final day and Q had already said goodbye because I had to meet with my Couchsurfing host that day. But when I found out I wasn’t meeting my host until late, I let Q know that I would be in the park because it was just too nice out regardless of the fact that I still had so much left to see. Surprisingly, he offered to come with me and bring a blanket. The entire day, we sat under a tree in Hyde Park and talked for hours. He walked me to my train and carried me the entire way. If there was a more perfect ending to my trip to London, I couldn’t even guess what it could’ve been.

It is disheartening knowing that I am away from these wonderful people. I know, that I will meet many more. But these guys from the bar, Q, the experiences I had, stole my heart for those three days, and still do. If I could offer one piece of advice, it’s to welcome people into your life and they may surprise you. Don’t judge based on looks, age, or character. Make that decision in the end, after you’ve spent time with them. I fell in love with London because of these people and I am thankful every single day.

That being said, I wanted to write a letter to Q, which I hope he sees:

Dear Q,

My time with you was indescribable. You showed me that I can find my other half, a good friend, no matter where in the world I am. You took the time to show me around, to laugh at my jokes, to carry my backpack despite the fact that you’d known me for all of 72 hours. Thank you for showing me to let loose. To enjoy my time and those around me. Between the horrible beers and the amazing chocolate. The dancing that I hardly remember to walking in the park. My experience with you showed me what backpacking is about. To break free from self-containment and do something outside your comfort zone, and meeting you explains that perfectly. I can’t even explain how much you changed my perspective on London and people in this world. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and London is only a plane ride away.

Thank you, for making me fall in love with London. (and out of love with beer in London)

Xoxo ooooo(extra hugs),

Emily

Cheers.

Belgian Waffles: They really are THAT good

Blogging while traveling, a lot, is hard. Really hard.

Which means really long blog posts about every single thing I did in said country, with a lot of photos.

That being said….here we go.

 

When Sjors and I awoke at 11am the next day in Gent, we had to check out of our hostel and start heading back to Holland because Sjors had work the next day. But, before we did that, he said we had a little time so we decided to explore Gent for a little bit more. And let me tell you, Gent? Absolutely unbelievable. For such a small city, you wouldn’t expect much. But there was just so much to see. Maybe not a lot to do seeing that it was Sunday, but you keep thinking there’s nothing left to see and then you turn a corner and BAM! There’s more. But what blew our minds the most were the churches. Between the stained glass, wood work, and the size in general, I couldn’t even begin to tell you how extraordinary they were.

 

Before I left on my trip, I asked a few people, if you had to recommend one place in Brussels, where should I go? And I got pretty much the same answer: Bruges and Gent. Although we didn’t make it to Bruges, we heard it was pretty much a replica of Gent, but smaller. So for all of those backpacking and trying to add countries/cities to your list. I am telling you now, Gent is on there (and so is Galway, but I’m skipping 3 countries ahead)

Around 2pm we knew we had to head out, especially with a transfer in Antwerp. So we hopped on the train and headed an hour to Antwerp. I didn’t see much of it since our next train left in about an hour. So we walked around the city really fast, got a quick tour, and then did what anybody should do when they are in Belgium. Grab a waffle. I don’t care if you’re gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan, starving, full, or anti-social. Regardless of your status in Belgium, you go find a waffle. And I have to say, the ones in Antwerp Train Station were probably the best possible ones around. We asked a few locals and all of them led us there. I got one with chocolate and whipped cream on top and Sjors got whipped cream and cherries. Yes, you will feel nauseous after eating it, and yes, you will want to go into a deep coma, but you will not regret it one bit. They’re warm, sweet, delicious, and worth every Euro.

5pm and we are on the train to Hilversum, Holland (where Sjors lives), and on the train ride he explains how the railway works in regards to tickets and right now, I am going to try and break this down for any future travelers so you understand because it took me about 2 hours and I hate this system to this day.

TIP: So this card is called the ov-chipkaart (the card itself costs 7 Euro). It works in the same sense as any card or the subway in NYC. You put money on it and you swipe it when you go in. But here’s the kicker. So this card, you have to tap it when you enter the station and when you leave your final destination. Only then will you tap it again and be charged based on your distance (DO NOT TAP IT WHEN WAITING FOR A CONNECTING TRAIN) You MUST tap your card before getting on the train. People come around and check to see if you did (sometimes they don’t show up at all but don’t take that risk), and if you didn’t tap your card prior to entering, there is a 60 Euro fee that you cannot argue. (Luckily I never forgot to swipe). Here’s the semi tricky part. First of all, ALWAYS get the card because if you decide against the card and just buy a ticket every time, you get charged an extra Euro. Also, your card has to ALWAYS have a minimum of 20 Euros on it. So if you put 25 Euros on it, travel from Amsterdam to Hilversum and back, it’s 5.60 so you will be denied entry after that until you put more money on it. If you travel on discount, you only need a minimum of 10 Euros on it. How you get a discount isn’t hard if you are just friendly to anybody on the train. Any student or young adult in Holland gets a discount pass, if you go to the booth and select discount card, you get about ½ off the regular price on the ride but if the person comes around to check your card and sees it’s on discount, they may ask whose discount you’re on. That’s when you have to become friendly. Ask anybody around prior to the train ride if you can ride on their discount. If they say sure, then you’re all set. It’s that simple. But this card helps you save money but is also the biggest pain in the ass ever.

TIP: Credit and Debit cards!!! Some train stations in Holland only accept cards with the chip on the front. Anyone from the US, doesn’t have one, so always have cash on you if possible.

If none of that made sense, you can go to the ticket booth and they will explain everything!

Next up…Amsterdam!

Let the Journey Commence!

Well this is going to be difficult. Remembering 5 days’ worth of adventures and putting it all into one post.

Great. Which is exactly why I a breaking it up into 2 posts….maybe 3. We’ll see how I feel in an hour.

Quick synopsis of the flight:

                My flight from Denver to DC was very fast, but that is probably because I slept for pretty much all of it. The couple next to me was incredibly sweet. They were returning to Pennsylvania after a 2 weeks trip through Wyoming, South Dakota, and some other state. They said it was absolutely beautiful and wished me well on my trip, which I greatly appreciated. When the flight landed, I had a 4 hour layover in DC which was incredibly boring. In three words: Ate, Coffee, Texted. The End. The plane, however, from DC to Brussels was incredible. The seats were incredibly comfortable, you got a TV in front of you which allowed you to watch one out of about 25 movies, about 15 different movies and had the option to listen to music (really, really bad music) The meal was also amazing. I didn’t even know I was getting fed and then in front of my pops broiled fish, sesame noodle salad, fresh bread, and cheesecake! There was so much joy in my face that I didn’t have to pay extra for this meal, you don’t even understand. The only negative was the fact that I had to sit next to Mother Theresa. Meaning, she was old. And couldn’t hear anything. And also kind of had a slight resemblance to Mother Theresa herself. She would constantly tap me asking me to lean her chair back and yell at me to eat when I didn’t want to at all. It was an interesting flight to say the least.

The minute I touched down in Brussels, I couldn’t even try to stop smiling. It had begun. The backpacking trip I had waited for, for 4 years was finally beginning. That was, it started when I found Sjors. Which took a while. Once I got out of customs, I had to look for my friend, Sjors (if you didn’t realize that was a name before) My phone, of course, didn’t want to work for the exact 30 minutes I was freaking out that I couldn’t find him. Luckily he showed up and I got all 1,000 messages stating the trains were late and he would be there later on. Our hostel for the night was booked in Gent, but we decided to wander Brussels first before heading there.

I just love how the moment you leave a train station, you can tell immediately that you’re not in America.  The streets were narrow, the building close together, and the street names? I still don’t get why the names have to be THAT long! But that’s Dutch for you.

Sjors explained to me that seafood was extremely fresh because they get it right out of the ocean that connects to the dam. I really didn’t consider seafood at the time but all around me were signs for buckets of mussel and a beer special which lets you know exactly what we did first. It was clearly a tourist area but what the hell, right!? 15 Euros for a bucket of fresh mussels, a beer, and fries? Heaven. On Earth.  After we ate and I continuously took pictures of my food like a typical American tourist, he took me to Delerium, the most famous bar in Belgium. If you are in Brussels, this is a MUST. It is known to have the most beers on tap in the world. THE WORLD! I wish I could tell you what I got, but I don’t really remember. The highlight of our night was running into this guy, Fernando. He asked us a question about the beer and I knew that he was American so I asked where he was from and he told me New Jersey. That makes me happy to begin with but the kicker was he was living in Washington Township! The town right next to mine! Talk about a small world. So Fernando, Sjors, and I had a great conversation over some wonderful beer mostly about traveling until he had to head out. That was our cue to also leave and head for Gent.

Once we got back on the train, the entire ride, I tried to pronounce the name of every station we stopped at. I failed, miserably. But the man across from us seemed to get a kick out of me butchering every single thing that I said. That’s when he decided to join in and explain to me how pronunciation is different between Belgian Dutch and Holland Dutch. From that moment on, I decided to never attempt Dutch again. Sjors agreed.

When we got off the train, we headed straight for the hostel because it was getting dark and we had no map. That being said, we got lost. But it wasn’t our fault! Google maps lied. Once we arrived, I was exhausted but I knew the last thing I should do was go to bed. So we hung out with some others in the living room and played Jenga for a while. I’m a beast (I don’t know if that’s something I should admit). Then we decided to go get food (which consisted of, fries with mayo and horsemeat sausage... don't ask) and on our way back, we realized how beautiful Gent truly was. Everything was lit up with the dark sky as the backdrop. People were socializing, smiling, laughing, and it honestly felt as if I was living in a made up city. The beauty is incomparable to anything I've seen yet. Upon arriving back to Uppelink (the hostel), I decided jet lag and sleep are for fools so I made the decision to go out on the town since it was my only night to do so. So, me, Sjors, Irene, Alec, and Valerie went out to local bars. It was incredibly strange; not the bars themselves, but the walk there. We came across at least 3 different groups of people dressed in the most obscure way all because they were getting married. Turns out to be marriage weekend because everybody and their sisters were getting married. It was so much fun because they loved having me say things in Dutch and screaming and running around the square with them. I wasn’t so sad, though, when we ended up losing them.

After a few drinks, laughs, dancing, and smiles, around 4:30am we decided to call it a night….or morning….

This Rock has a Hole in it: Moab: Part 3

There was one spot that we had set on seeing no matter how long it took while on this excursion:

Maroon Bells. One of the most iconic scenes within the entire state of Colorado, with the famous photograph being of these three mountain tops as the backdrop to this beautiful reflective lake and trees that are changing colors right in the beginning of autumn.

We knew we wouldn’t have time to see them the next day seeing as we had to drive back from Utah and make it back to Colorado before dawn hit the following day. So we made it our mission to get to Maroon Bells and capture about 1,000 photos right before sunset. This meant leaving Vail at around 3:30pm, we could make it around 6:30-7 with sunset being around 7:45pm. Talk about cutting it close.

I continued the drive there and to make this story short, we made it there by 7:06pm. We were jumping for joy, freezing, screaming, and running as fast as possible to those picturesque mountains. I wasn’t as intrigued by them as Justin was, but the minute I saw them, I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing. It literally felt as if I stepped inside my computer screen wallpaper (which, in a sense, I did) The mountaintops were topped with dusts of snow, the lake acted as a mirror reflecting the mountains perfectly, and the trees were just ever so slightly changing from green to yellow and red. We couldn’t get out our cameras fast enough. We took as many photos as humanly possible until the sun disappeared behind the mountains.  

Thus ended the adventure to Aspen and onto Moab we went!

After 2 rest stops, we arrived at the entrance to Arches National Park around 12:45am. The best part about that was because it’s after 8pm, we got to just go in for free. But it was so dark out, we could barely see anything driving up the winding road. All we could recognize were dark shadows towering over us as we drove by. We knew, even being hidden in the darkness, that we were surrounded by beauty.

Since it was so dark out, we couldn’t read any sign regarding where to camp, so we pulled off to the side of the road and decided to sleep in the car. Exhausted? Yes. Miss an opportunity to take long exposure photographs? Absolutely not! After about 2 hours of laughing hysterically while taking insane pictures in the middle of the road, we headed to bead.

The next day, we decided to wake up at 6am and drive to the nearest arch we could find and run to catch the sunrise. Even with a lack of sleep, we were ready to go. The first arch we came across was huge. Admit it, you’re thinking, “Wow, arches, how exciting. Rocks with a hole in it.” (“This cake has a hole in it” You better get the reference) I know that’s what you’re thinking because that’s what I thought. But comparing yourself to the size of these formations was like putting a pea next to an elephant. They were ENORMOUS! Just smooth rock all the way up and around. It reminded me of building blocks I had when I was little. It made me smile.

After sunrise, we went to the famous Garden that had the double arch along with at least 4 others. Justin and I decided to do a “short” hike, which actually turned into a 4 hour hike. It was the best mistake we could’ve made. The hike was incredible. I felt like I was in The Land Before Time. Standing atop these rock formations, being practically blown all over the place by the wind, knowing that one wrong step and, to be blunt, you would die. The double arch was extraordinary, just one arch on top of another, with brave people standing all the way on top. There was an arch that you can tell, one day soon, it’s going to collapse. You have to wonder how they formed. Why in this one spot, all of these arches originated? Just goes to show that nature is an incredible gift that many people don’t appreciate as much as they should.

 

The sign said it was difficult but come on, it never really is. So we continued on to do the loop trail and it definitely became extremely difficult. We had to traverse across a smooth rock where if you slipped, you were going down. Then came this traverse around a small body of water but if you slipped you went into that water, which honestly, I didn’t want to happen since I had my camera on me. That last traverse took us over a half hour to cross and it was only 20 feet long. For once, my climbing abilities came in handy. For once. I’ll be honest, for a while, I thought I was going to be stuck out there. I have a huge fear of falling and having to climb these massive rocks with no protection didn’t help whatsoever. In the end though, when we finished, we gave one another a huge high five and could proudly say we did the entire loop that not many people will even attempt, giving us the opportunity to see the double arch and all its glory, a rock that looked just like the Titanic, and these rows upon rows of thin slivers of rock that went on for miles. The unfortunate part was we used up all of our time. We wanted to continue on to the Delicate Arch but we had no time, so we drove instead and took a few photos before heading home.

 

Our Moab trip was extremely short, but what we accomplished in about 30 hours still blows my mind to this day. Those arches…..they were just rocks. But in a way, they were masterpieces. They make you think, they make you smile, they make you appreciate life. I’ve never experienced such a beautiful scene. It’s as if they were trying to tell you a story.

And their story, is what created my story that you are reading Right. This. Second.

 

Cool, huh?

 

Vail: Yeah....pt. 2

When I hear the words, “long drive,” all I can think about was that horrific and traumatizing drive from New Jersey to Colorado with my dad over the course of 28 hours. It was the middle of May and once we hit Ohio, it was below freezing, and by the time we arrived in the beautiful and colorful state of Iowa (as you should all know, I’m fibbing….a lot), it was hailing and the road was filled with reckless drivers alongside people who hated the state as much as we did, trying to escape.

This drive, however, completely wipes out all former views I had on the description of a long drive.

I decided to take the wheel. I don’t know why, he even offered to drive, but I was ready to drive this route so I could actually be able to say, “Oh, Utah? Yeah, I once drove 7 hours from Colorado to Moab just to sleep there for one night. It was wild”

The drive was flying by, and mostly because having a driving companion (Justin) there to constantly be talking to, blasting Backstreet Boys with, and dancing to “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift, makes time seem non-existent. And because of this random trip, we really had no set schedule or plans for the ride up but we didn’t care whether we made it to Arches National Park by sunset or the middle of the night. Around 2:30pm, the sun was shining bright at a whopping 88 degrees and we were in the process of trying to determine where our first stop would be. What we needed was a sign. And about 1 mile later, there was a sign for Vail. Seemed like a valid sign to us. So off to Vail we went!

I have to tell you, Vail is beautiful in the winter. There is so much to do, the slopes (or so I’ve heard) are unbelievable and it’s a must-see in the winter. In the summer/fall? Not so much. It’s beautiful and everything, but there is NOTHING to do and it’s pretty dead.

Picture this: Remember Shrek? Remember when Shrek and Donkey had to go through Duloc and there was nothing going on? It was like no one knew about it and then at the information kiosk there were those puppets that would pop out of the clock and sing. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, follow this link to be well acquainted with one of the best scenes that has ever come out of that movie.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFMEblf0uIY

Well, Vail was EXACTLY like that. Just without the puppets. Well, who knows, maybe they were at the south entrance and we missed them.

Although it was empty, it still had picturesque views. The rolling hills of greenery in front mountains covered in snow. It was like seeing two seasons at once. For the first hour we wandered the small but quaint town, trying to learn how to use my big girl camera and then decided to go find food. What surprised me the most was that Vail looked exactly like Germany. The architecture was similar to that I saw in Germany when I spent a few days in Munich. Very castle-esque with potted flowers hanging from the rooftops and balconies of the surrounding hotels and restaurants. There was not a bland site to be seen. The flowers were so perfectly placed that it was as if they bought the building with the flowers included.

 

 

 

After we wandered and marveled at the beauty that we were being engulfed by, we realized we needed to eat before we cried. (Seriously) So we ended up getting sushi and I’m not going to bore you with my food experience (although that is what my Instagram is for), but the sushi chef was incredibly generous and gave us a free roll of sashimi and Mochi for dessert and we talked to him about buying a new camera. It was a fun little surprise that was the perfect ending to Vail.

 

 

And the adventure continues….

30 Hours, 2 States, 1 Car, 0 Hospital Visits. Part 1

Who likes planned trips? But really. Who does? Who really enjoys making an itinerary? And if you read this and say, "I do," then close this tab because I don't like you and you're ruining the entire premise behind this blog post.

Now, for those that are still reading. (hey ma, hey dad), what makes a spontaneous trip that much better? I'll tell you what. The fact that nothing can go wrong. Whatever happens, happens. Nothing that occurs for the duration of that adventure was planned, so in theory, nothing can happen the way it should or shouldn't have happened. It gives you the opportunity to think on your feet.

For example, "Oh, we ran out of gas in the middle of the desert? Well, that's okay because we had no set plans. We will just hitchhike. Perfect. I'm so glad we didn't make a strict itinerary."

Now, I know what you're thinking. Who doesn't pick up gas before they go into the desert and who is that calm? Well, it's a good thing it's just an example. But you catch my drift.

Let's set the scene, shall we?

Wednesday Night: (Conversation between me and my friend Justin)

Me: Hey! What are you doing tonight through Friday! I don't work!
Justin: Hey! I have a job interview tomorrow at 9 :( But I'm free after!
Me: I was going to say lets go to Utah tonight but I understand! Lets plan to hike Mt. Lincoln (a 14er in CO for those who don't know) and do something else!
Justin: Perfect! I'm so down. Lets figure out all the details once you pick me up.

(Yes, there were that many exclamation marks were used. No exaggeration for the purpose of this post)

Thursday:
When I went to pick up Justin, the weather was dreadful. The overcast was pretty much saying, "Go home Emily. Go have some hot chocolate in that Snuggie that you never use and watch movies" But I proceeded to get him and when we met, we discussed the horrendous weather and decided to go to his apartment to figure out another plan of action. After 2 hours of discussing travel plans, listening to Florence and the Machine, and casually watching YouTube videos of Amy Winehouse performing "Valerie," we noticed that the weather was not supposed to clear up until a after the trip was going to be over. Which sucked. The only place that looked nice was southern Colorado and Utah. Both anywhere from 5-7 hours away. At this point it was already 11:30 on Thursday and I had to be home by Friday night around 9.

In comes conversation number 2. (in person)

Me: So, what's our plan now? Mt. Lincoln?
Justin: I don't know, the weather looks pretty bad.
Me: Yeah, Utah and Glenwood Springs look to have the best weather. But I thought we decided not to go to Utah?
Justin: I know haha, but should we just do it?
Me: Drive all the way to Utah to see the Arches!? In a day!?
Justin: Yeah....? Should we? Is that crazy?
Me: It is. But why not?
Justin: Lets shoot for trying to see Maroon Bells at sunset, maybe hike it in the morning and if it looks bad, we will just head to Utah?
Me: Lets just get in the car before we end up staying in Denver haha. Regardless, we have to go West. We will figure it out as we go, but for now, lets make Utah our ultimate destination.
Justin: Sounds good! I love that you're down for an adventure like this. We will be great friends.
Me: Me too! This is the beginning to a beautiful friendship.

Okay, so I don't really remember how that conversation ended, but we definitely said those words at some point during the trip. So it counts.

I remember exactly, my dashboard in my car said it was 12:12 (really 11:46am, my clock is REALLY fast),

Next thing you know, we are on Route 70 West.

Cue the adventure.

Escaping Reality for a New Adventure

….Close your eyes.                     

Take a deep breath.

Clear your mind.

Open your eyes again….

For a split second, the corners of your mouth start to rise without you even noticing. Your eyes are slightly squinting, and you feel like there is no weight on your shoulders. That’s how you know you’re at a peaceful state of mind.

Now, I like to think that there is something everyone can do that brings you back to that peaceful state time and time again. For some, it’s writing, others, it’s working out, cooking, reading, knitting, or even the simple act of petting your cat or dog. But me? I’ve been doing a lot of self-examining lately and trying to really comprehend what exactly it is that puts me in that state. That mindset of pure happiness and allowing myself to let go of everything that’s starting to become a burden on me.

And I’ve come across a couple of observations:

1.       If I’m in a room with another person and I have to be quiet, my breathing becomes heavy and rapid.

2.       I thoroughly enjoy conversations with anyone that does not live in this country.

3.       I love to write, in every form.

4.       Exploring is one of my favorite activities. It doesn’t have to be somewhere extravagant. And I usually prefer doing it alone or with someone who is truly interested.

5.       My love for cooking and blogging has slowly been deteriorating and I’m letting people’s opinions affect me and my life choices.

For once, I truly believe I have figure out where I need to be right now and five years from now. I started to think about when in life I was the most content; feeling blessed, captivated; like, I was flying high above the clouds. Almost surreal.

And then I remembered: Florence. When I lived in Italy for 5 months for school, it was pure magic. It was like living inside of a dream. Being able to wake up, explore he city, grab fresh pasta or a glass of wine, and talking to the locals. The multitude of opportunities to hop on a bus, train, boat, or plane and go explore another area of the country or even continent. It was such an experience that, to this day, doesn’t even seem like it happened at all. The fact that I rode ATVs all over Greece, that I drank beer at Oktoberfest with the locals, that I made chocolate with one of the most looked up to chocolatiers in Italy. Those opportunities are not given to everybody. They’re extremely rare and I got to be a part of every single one of them.

That’s when I knew.

Travel.

Anywhere.

Now.

Tomorrow.

Yesterday?

Write.

About everything.

Every experience.

Every moment.

That’s You.

Now Go.

 

I’ve figured it out. I’ve finally discovered what exactly it is I like to do. I love to write, about everything, but mainly travel. The thought that I am sucking somebody into my story as if bringing them there with me is just as good as actually being there. I get to share my story and experiences with those that don’t have the chance to do so themselves. I think that’s beautiful. The ability to share your life with people all around the world and bring them with you along for the journey. It’s as if you’re never alone.

Which is what brings me back to my list. Everything lines up exactly. I love to be alone. To do things the way I intended without anyone interrupting. But I also like to share those times with people after I’ve actually done them. I thoroughly enjoy talking to people from all over because they give me ideas for when I ever choose to travel. I love to write about anything and everything, especially when I was abroad because it was something different with an adventure every day. And that’s when everything finally clicked.

I need to travel. I need to somewhere. Anywhere. I can’t sit still. I’m a nomad. And that’s why I’m going on this trip. I finally decided to stop making excuses, stop listening to people that weren’t myself, and book a flight to Europe for 5 weeks. I know, that this is the beginning. To know that I’m upset over the fact I can only see 7 countries during this trip helps me even more realize that traveling is what I’m meant to do. I understand that traveling in itself isn’t really a profession, but you can make anything you are passionate about into a profession and that’s what I intend to do. It may mean me working in a restaurant or a cubicle for the next 10 years while I figure it out, but it’s going to happen, and I refuse to ever believe that my passion won’t become a reality.

So this is the beginning to another adventure, to my future, and the rest of my life.

Cheers.

I walked into a museum, but it took me to a whole other decade.

The Kirkland Museum of Fine and Decorative Art: Pure Genius

I have been to a lot of museums in my life. I lived 20 minutes from New York City for god's sake. The Met, the MOMA, the Museum of Sex (I actually highly recommend that one), the Louvre, the Musee D'Orsay in France. The list goes on but I could never compare any museum to this petite house on the corner of Pearl Street in Denver. My expectations were extremely low. Denver isn't a huge city and the zoo isn't that great and I went to another museum early that year that wasn't impressive so I had no doubt in my mind that this one would match up to those.

When you walk up to the door, you have to ring the doorbell to enter which I thought was very clever and personal and made you feel like a special guest. As soon as I walked in, they noticed I was by myself and that I'd never been there before so they let me in free of charge and a smile and thoughtful "Merry Christmas" to go with it.

There was a cute little old woman in the center of the museum who personally told you the story of the building and Vance Kirkland himself. She was absolutely adorable and you could see her love for the collection and the artist.

Now it's  time to go back in history:

1929: Vance Kirkland founded the School of Arts at the University of Denver
1932: He left the school because he found out that they weren't giving full academic credit for art courses toward a degree which was the original agreement he made first coming into the University. Vance leased the property on Pearl Street and opened up the Kirkland School of Art so that his students could continue to learn and be taught by him. In 1933, the University of Colorado gave full academic credit to those who partook in the school. He utilized that space as his studio until his death in 1981.
1996: The Kirkland Foundation was founded to preserve his legacy.

Throughout his 54 years of painting, he art went through five different periods:
     Designed Realism (1927-1944) - mostly watercolor

Surrealist (1939-1954) - mostly watercolor

Hard Edge Abstraction (1947-1957) - 50% watercolor, 50% oil

Abstract Expressionism/Floating Abstractions (1951-1964)
- oils

"The Dot Paintings"/Energy in Space Abstractions (1963-1981)

 

As time went on, Hugh Grant (the new owner of the property and Colorado resident) began collecting artwork from other Colorado artists. He believed that people from Colorado saw the state from a different perspective than others. These paintings represent the history of Colorado art from traditional to modern.   Not only are there paintings, but pottery, art deco furniture, flatware, and dishware were all displayed at the museum. But what made the Kirkland Museum so unique is the way in which the exhibitions were presented. It was as if you were walking into a real room, not a museum. The furniture was set up as if you were stepping into a living room; you felt like you were a part of the art. But the most incredibly part of the entire museum was his studio which hasn't been touched since the day he died. You walk in and see his last dot painting that was in the works of being finished, his paints are lying all over the table, a huge canvas lying on the table with these straps laying above it, which you learn, was for him to lay on. He was 5'3" and for him to be able to put these dots on the canvas, he had to lay across these straps, 3 feet above the painting and place the dots onto the canvas one at a time lying directly above it. To see how much work goes into these paintings really shows how dedicated and in love he was with art and exhibiting it to others.

This museum may be small, but it's full of magic. Even if you aren't an art buff (Which I will happily say I am not), this is just a place to go, open your mind, and reflect. The entire building is art. Inside and out.

New Years: A New Beginning or a Continuation of Reality

Every Girl:
"My New Years Resolution is that I'm going to go to the gym every single day and look like a model, and be tan, find a boyfriend, and most importantly be happy with myself."

Every Guy:
"This year, I want to gain a ton of muscle so that all the girls will come running after me. I also want to make hundreds of thousands of dollars. I also need to get my act together and figure out what I want in life and get a job that is right for me and stop all the partying and part-time jobs"

BLAH, BLAH, BLABBITY BLAH!

Let's be realistic here. Honestly (and I mean honestly) How many times do you make a New Year's resolution and it actually comes true? I'll be dead serious when I say NEVER. Why? Because who wants to make a to-do list for your life? Was what you had prior to this year just not acceptable in your opinion? Was the job you had or friends you made not enough to make your life feel complete? Because I don't know about you, but I met some amazing people this year and had the time of my life. I made life changing decisions that may have not been very effective at the time but now, I realize that my life could be completely different if it wasn't for that one day I couldn't make up my mind and decided to do something outside my comfort zone.

I love this holiday. I thoroughly enjoy the hundreds of Facebook statuses, tweets, and IG posts about how this year is going to be the best year yet. It's as if this year is when all of your dreams and aspirations are going to come true. But let me ask you this:

What have you been doing with the last 22 years of your life!? Just sitting on your ass watching the sun rise and set? NO you blubbering idiot! You've been living out your life's dreams...but slowly.

OH MY GOOD GRACIOUS, I HAVE!? How did I not know that? And I'll tell you why. It's because you don't have patience. I certainly don't and I'll happily admit it. But I know that your dreams don't get handed to you on a fucking silver platter. That you can't be lucky all the time. That is reality. I'm sorry if you didn't get that job you wanted or didn't lose those 10 horrific pounds that form that lovely bloated section around your midline we all like to call your "muffin top." But what about those incredible relationships you were once a part of or those family vacations where dad fell off a horse while pretending he was Prince Ali from Aladdin? People are so focused on the negative aspects on their life that they always forget the good.

And THAT is why I love this holiday so much. Every year, people use the new year as a way to fix the bad: Lose weight, make friends, make memories, travel more, eat better, love myself. Has anyone ever considered maybe, just maybe, that you should use the new year to commemorate the good that has occurred over the years? To acknowledge those time that once made you smile.

Stop degrading yourself and for once, just once, love what you have. Take 2014 to reflect on memories of  the previous years that made your dimples appear and ask yourself, "How can I enjoy what I already have but make it even better?"

Sure it's a new year, but there's nothing new about it. It's your old life with new memories. You can't make memories disappear, you can only add to them.


With Love,
Emily