Party in Αθήνα

I can safely assert that one of the top countries I wanted to go to this semester was Greece. I mean, who wouldn't? Sun-soaked and Mediterranean, the place where plenty got started, and full of GYROS, there was just no way I wasn't going to spend one of my weekends in this Hellenic Heaven. Early on in the semester, I heard about a group headed to Athens in April, and I immediately made the plans. Thanks to the flight prices and my Athenian desires, I decided to stay a day longer than the others and come home alone. I had a mission that from Friday til Monday I would see as much of the city as possible, enjoy myself as much as possible, and most importantly, EAT as much Greek food as possible. Oh, that and avoid the riots for the debt crisis. In all aspects, I was rather successful.
Praise be to the JFRC for not having Friday classes, and to me for not scheduling a Monday class until 6pm. I spent as much of the weekend as possible in the sunny, southern European nation. On day one, the six of us flew into Athens and took the pleasantly clean and modern Metro to our hostel, near the Acropolis and run by Australians. Almost immediately we set out to see some Athens but more importantly to have our first Greek dinner. On our way we met our new canine friend, Sheba, and her attention whore dog-friend, who we did not like nearly as much and therefore didn't give a name. They were hanging out at the bottom of the Acropolis, and followed us around every time we were in the area for that whole weekend. Finally we made it to an area with plenty of restaurants and then had an absolutely delicious dinner. Afterwards we wandered around a bit and wound up at some Spanish bar in Gazi with hams hanging from the ceiling. From there we went over to Psiri and got hookah which is apparently my new hobby, if you base my hobbies off of the pictures I have from my trips, that is. Anyway I think we got apple. Back into Monastiraki, our bro-tastic weekend got a whole lot better because we got, yes that's right, gyros. There's something about the goodness of biting for the first time into a food you love in the country of its origin. My first pizza in Italy and my first brat in Germany were memorable experiences. The street vendor gyro was a perfect and foodgasmic way to cap off my first day in Greece. Oh, except that it wasn't over. We went to one other bar and listened for a bit to some live music, but after getting up early to travel and walking all over Athens, Tim was starting to check out. I do believe I was unresponsive for a bit, despite the loud music the band was playing. Tired, we headed back to the hostel and I was fortunate enough not to fall asleep on the walk back.

The next morning, our first in Greece, we got up and went on our hostel's walking tour. It took us to plenty of places in the city and was fairly interesting despite not being too informative, and certainly not worth the money we paid for it. The tour guide dropped us off at the bottom of the Acropolis on a different side than we were used to, so our next move was to head on up and finally experience it. Since we didn't have a tour guide telling us what everything was, we relied on a map of sorts to determine what we were looking at. Because of that, it was more of an "Aw, neat!" experience than a "Wowww.." true comprehension. Still, being up there and looking all around to see the massive sprawl that is Athens, definitely worth it. Next up we scuttled downhill into the ancient Agora. It was alright, the Temple of Hephaestus was pretty badass. After that we got ourselves some food (gyros of course) and walked around a bit. Eventually we went to the [still-]new Acropolis Museum, which was very fancy and new and they didn't let you forget these facts. Shortly after our visit, in one of the more bromantic moments of the weekend, the six of us went up on a hill (the Areopagus if we're trying to be technical) to watch the sunset. Then, the sun set. No but really, it looked gorgeous, and it was a cool moment this semester akin to the sunrise in the Sahara or looking out on Dwejra Bay. So back in Monastiraki, a group of people with signs and a megaphone were in the main square. Oh no! A riot? Not at all, actually! It was a group of people offering free hugs! We took them up on their offer and got a few pictures with them before continuing on and getting dinner. I had moussaka and the house wine, half expecting someone's Papou and Yaya to come waddling out of the kitchen telling me I'm too skinny. Somewhere in the area we settled down for desserts and beverages (which may have included ouzo and beer) and ended up watching FC Barcelona play Real Madrid (and win).
Sadly, that was everyone else's last night, so Sunday morning they all went home and I got a bit more sleep. I started the day wandering alone with the ol' camera, and since I still had a ticket for it, I went to the Roman forum. I ended up back in Monastiraki where I bought a gigantic bag of strawberries (which were themselves huge) and found a place to sit and eat them while watching young African men sell sunglasses, watches, even cell phones. Temporarily filled with fresh fráoules, I looked at my map and decided I'd tackle one of the places we hadn't gone: Philopappos Hill. At this point it gets kind of weird as I literally wander some hilly open fields for 45 minutes, reading my map which was telling me I was on the Hill of the Nymphs, the Hill of the Muses, and finally Philopappos. I went all the way up to the Philopappos Monument and laid in the sun eating the rest of the strawberries. I'm pretty sure I accidentally reached nirvana up there, until I noticed a tourist giving me a few too many stares and I got uncomfortable and decided to head down the other side of the hill. I saw the prison where they supposedly put Socrates! Next I sought out dinner, and finally had authentic dolmades and baklava, finishing off my list of Greek cuisine I wanted to eat in Greece. Then I made my way back to the hostel, was happy to see my stuff not stolen, and paid for a few minutes of time on a comptuer. I saw that Emily, a friend of a friend that I'd once met briefly in America, had commented my status and was studying in Athens that very semester! Naturally, we met up and got hookah in Psiri. I also tried some honey-wine drink which was served hot and absolutely delicious.
My last day in Greece, I woke up, packed up, and checked out of the hostel. With my luggage I made a B-line for the last thing I needed to see: the Theatre of Dionysus! I went to it, stared and snapping photos without comprehending that I had studied it for a whole semester of Theatre History I, and peaced out. I also saw Sheba that day, which was sad but cute because she may have vaguely remembered me. I flew back to my home-a in Roma and, for the last time this semester, mozied back to the JFRC in time for Mensa and Intro to Opera.

Romanian Easter

Having gotten out of my Thursday classes in advance, and having no classes on Wednesday, I was excited to get a jump start on my Easter weekend travels. It took me quite some time to come up with my Easter destination, because I knew I wanted to travel yet didn't have figured out the where, the means, or even the who. As Malta crept up I knew I had to make a decision quick, or I'd be paying way too much money for Easter travel only one week in advance. Well.. that kind of happened anyway. The night before I left for airport and Malta, I was searching flights online, comparing the affordable ones with my mental list of countries I wanted to travel to. Aside from the travel plans I'd already made, my priorities for the semester were Croatia, Denmark, Romania, and also the UK. The UK and Denmark would be expensive to book and would really clear out my travel budget, and flights weren't cheap either. I knew I wanted to go to a country that wasn't on the Euro, such as Croatia or Romania, so that I could afford to enjoy myself more. I was torn in deciding not to go with my Croatian plans that I'd been counting on for some time, but after booking round-trip tickets to Bucharest, I was excited for some Eastern European adventures. I also expected to "escape" Easter this year, by going to an Eastern Orthodox country during Roman Catholic Easter. Well, 2010 happens to be a year of both Easters being the same day! It would be an interesting experience.
Let's chat about the philosophy of solo travel. Never before had I traveled alone, much farther than some city strolling in Rome or Chicago without any friends. I had some mixed reactions when people asked me the usual, "Where're you headed? Oh cool, with who?" Some people gave me the "Be careful!" and I also got a lot of "Oh wow I'm jealous! I wanted to try that this semester."
Well, Easter Break 2010 began on a not so great note. Coordinating my travel from campus to the train station and arriving perfectly on time at the airport in Fiumicino, I was a few people back in line when suddenly the check-in counters began closing. "Non c'è posto, the plane is full," they said. The company overbooked the flight by almost 15 people! I kept up with the complaints of the group in Italian because the Romanians and I weren't native speakers, but then we were all sent to a kiosk-type office elsewhere in the airport, where a Romanian-speaking representative handled the dilemma. Here, the group's complaints switched entirely to Romanian, and suddenly I wasn't keeping up. The Italians just left and the representative didn't speak a whole lot of English, and I was tired from not sleeping much, frustrated, etc. They put us all on the next flight to Bucharest (the following morning), put up the Romanians in a hotel, and a groggy me went home without taking the hotel offer. In hindsight, I should've stayed so I would've been closer to the airport in the morning, but whatev. I arrived a bit earlier than needed the next morning, at about 6:30am, and check-in went by without issue. One ear-popping flight later, with a tiny bit of sleep in, I landed in Bucureşti, România.
So begins phase II of my weekend-commencing drama. Having lost a night/day of travel to this overbooking, I e-mailed the hostel about my not arriving until the following afternoon. I had requested their 10€ airport pick up service, and after e-mailing them with my new flight info, hoped that someone would be there to get me. Like most European airports, you can't trust the taxis outside the arrivals gate because you will be scammed by one of the guys asking "Taxi?". Realizing that I wasn't about to be picked up, I started my walk out of the airport area. I had printed a map out and had a general idea of my location on the north side of the city, but made a guess as to the direction of the train station I wanted to get to. I guessed wrong, and long story short, wandered the (less urban) north side of Bucharest for about an hour and a half. Stopping at a hotel, a concierge gave me a better map, but I finally gave in and got a cab. Being far enough away from the airport scams, I knew this was an official city taxi, so no problems. Oh. Except that I hadn't converted ANY of my euro to Romanian lei. I was lucky, though, because then I played dumb and pretended I had less money than I did, and if anything I felt bad because I didn't pay him much in euro. I also pretended to be Italian and since the driver only spoke Romanian, it was easier to throw a "Mi dispiace.. grazie" at him and awkwardly exit the vehicle. I'm kind of a bad person.
So I arrived at the hostel, walked in, and here began the good part of the trip. A very friendly front desk girl checked me in and showed me around the hostel, and soon after settling in a bit, I fell blissfully unconscious for an hour or five nap. After waking up perhaps too late, I attempted to find food for a late dinner. This is where my first, and thus far only, fast food fail of the semester took place. NOWHERE was still open at 9:00pm the Friday night of Easter weekend, except for McDonalds and Pizza Hut. Yes, I feel awful.. because I went to McDonalds and got a cheeseburger. Gasp! I walked the empty streets back to the hostel and slept until the next day.
Friday morning I woke up and had the hostel's free breakfast. Pretty good! For that day my plans were to go on a day trip (offered by the hostel) to Braşov, in Transylvania. We five (two Germans, a Floridian, the guide, and I) crammed into a car and set out. Our first stop was the Peleş Castle, which was home to the King and Queen of Romania (back when they had them). It was located in a foresty area where I had a nature moment and fell in love with yet another country. The next stop was another castle, but this one carried much more infamy. While not proven, the Bran Castle is known more commonly as Dracula's castle. It wasn't quite his home, but there is evidence that Vlad the Impaler did indeed use the fortress and another one or two in the area. Weird/exciting! Today the castle's full of the old Queen's things, like furniture and some art. I tasted some local cheese and impaled some political enemies of mine, and then we peaced out. We continued into Braşov for a brief guided tour/walk to a square where we had lunch in the city. After a delicious Romanian meal and another car ride squished in the backseat between two burly German men, we got back to the hostel in Bucharest. The Floridian woman and I went out with two Americans from.. Maine? and we ended up at El Dictador, a Spanish-named pub dedicated to.. dictators! Hitler, Mao, Castro, you get the picture. It's something Dan would've loved. We chatted on the patio and had mojitos. There's something funny about culturally mixing it up when you travel within Europe.
The following morning consisted of a lazy wakeup and more hostel breakfast. I went wandering the city solo and got lots of pictures and attempted to see all the sites I could, which in Bucharest actually doesn't take too long. When I came back to the hostel I sat around with two Swiss guys my age and watched Lord of the Rings dubbed in German. They offered to put English subtitles on but I said to turn on the German ones so I could (very.. slowly..) learn the language. We went out to dinner and then went out accompanied by a French couple from the hostel. Two Swiss guys, a young French couple, an American, and a Lebanese guy comedically attempted to find nightlife in Bucharest, which was still shut down for Easter weekend. We even stopped in a church and witnessed a few minutes of an Orthodox Easter Vigil. It was among the most thrilling things I've ever left early.

And then it was Easter Sunday! I met another American guy at the hostel, Ben, so the two of us "wandered with purpose" that afternoon and I showed him around what I'd seen of the city, and even saw some other stuff. Back at the hostel that evening we had an Easter BBQ. I'm not kidding! In the area outside the hostel's entrance the young and spritely staff grilled pork, blood sausage, and we ate, drank, and were merry. After all that delicious food, American Ben and I walked over to Cişmigiu, the city park which was pretty close by. After seeing tons more stray dogs and even peacocks and swans, we headed back. It was a really great Easter, considering it was my first away from home and family. I love a good cultural experience and the staff at Butterfly Villa is amazing.
Monday morning, sadly, was my last in Romania. Most of my awesome new travel friends were gone, and I headed alone back over to the Palace of the Parliament to take a quick Bertolt Brecht picture (if you've been following that dapper German Shepard) and then my tour guide and hostel staff guy was kind enough to drive the two enormous Germans and I to the train station, where I hopped on a bus for the airport. Crammed into the tiny Băneasa Airport for discount airlines like mine, I waited and jetted off to Rome and my home at the JFRC, just in time for my Monday evening class.

Malta Malta Malta!

In terms of weekends, spring break was followed by a weekend at home/in Rome. I had thought of booking some semi-last minute travel, and then at the beginning of the week after break I thought, maybe a local within-Italy day trip? Plans didn't come together, but in the end I'm glad, because it was such a relaxing weekend, and we still went out for a friend's birthday.
Then, after another week of class, a trip I'd been excited for finally arrived: Malta! Not many people know what Malta is, but if I say The Maltese Falcon or mention Maltese puppies, then you'll suddenly realize I'm talking about a place.. somewhere. Many people also think Malta is part of Italy, but no sir, it is not. Malta is a gorgeous Mediterranean island nation (three main islands) south of Sicily and east of Tunisia.

For this trip, we did something a little new and hip for some of you more seasoned travelers: couchsurfing! A group of five of us planned to go, and Angela did the research. Before we knew it, the five of us had a place to stay in a really convenient location! Emil, our Assyrian-but-raised-in-Sweden DJ and host, currently living in Malta, was very entertaining. He does not only that but is a spoken word artist, and did not like Chicago very much because of his performance there when he once toured the US. I asked, really? Where did you perform? And he specified, well it was a bar, but it wasn't actually in Chicago. Again I inquired, oh so then where was it? A different town, a suburb. Where? It's called Palatine. Palatine?! Where?! Durty Nellie's. Oh God, you performed at Durty Nellie's? I'm so sorry! So, in short, thanks a lot Palatine, for ruining all of Chicago.
Our island adventures began on Thursday night/Friday morning. We flew on down in what felt like the middle of the night, but was actually early morning, and arrived in Malta in the afternoon on Friday. After taking the super cool buses (straight out of the civil rights movement in the American South), we made our way to Swieqi, where we were staying. In one of the most dramatic and sad moments in all my study abroad experience, I somehow lost the lens cap to my camera on the bus. And I was aware of it while still on! I searched everywhere for the last 10 minutes of the ride, repeatedly checking under my seat, nearby seats, and overall freaking out. I admitted defeat and, dare I admit, have yet to find a replacement cover. After a bit of neighborhood wandering, we found the house of Emil, our host, and fell almost immediately into deep naps. After waking up a little before dinner time, we got our acts together and went out. We got on a bus for Sliema, another city (but let's just call it a neighborhood) named for the Maltese word for peace, sliem, and walked along the coast taking some pictures and then eating dinner. We headed back to our place and, weirdly enough, took more naps before intending to go out. And then the naps turned into actual night's sleep. Okay, so Friday was less than wild.

Saturday morning we woke up, had some supermarket-bought breakfast, and headed straight for the port where we could ferry over to the second-biggest island, Gozo. We got with a tour group and spent all day exploring Gozo. Some of the stops included a pretty cool citadel, the absolutely stunning Dwejra Bay (below), and an also-beautiful basilica. After that, we ferried back to Malta and ended up getting some semi-American dinner in Paceville, a huge clubbing district. Pace (pah-chay), like the Italian word for peace! Motifs, people! And we did indeed find plenty there, like pitchers full of "roofies," young German lads who would say "Wow" at anything Alex said, some beach, and, uh.. Sicilian high schoolers? Apparently they were on a field trip, but escaped their hotel during the night so they could find some night action. Needless to say, we sang the Italian national anthem on the beach.
The next morning we hopped on the precious 1960s buses of Malta with Emil's French roommate Martin and headed for Golden Bay, a well-known beach area on the west side of the island. Impressing myself again, we went on a very pretty semi-hike up a mountainous peninsula, if that's the proper way to categorize this geographic formation. Below are some views from that.
After our day at the beach, we returned to Emil's in Swieqi and got ready to go down to the capital of Malta, Valletta, to see the sunset. We got off the buses a bit late for it, but I still got some pretty nice pictures of Malta entering evening (including the one below). For our Sunday night dinner, the week before Easter, we went to a restaurant where I ordered the only local specialty of Malta: Fenek. Coniglio. Rabbit. Yeah, I feel a little weird and I apologize if the Easter bunny didn't come around this year, but it was good enough to say I tried and enjoyed it. Maybe never again, but ah well. We got back to the buses and, on the way back up, saw a cool, er.. piece of art, the word "LOVE" upside-down. I do indeed love Malta, and look forward to the day I return.
Monday morning, quite soberly, we got up, headed over to the airport via cab, and flew back to Rome. Returning to the JFRC, I had my Monday evening class (Intro to Opera), and the night concluded itself.

la Tunisie, Part Deux

Here we go with the second installment of my spring break blog coverage! Tuesday morning, after breakfast in the hotel we moved further into desert territory to a town called Douz where, in probably the most anticipated moment of all break, we rode camels in the desert! As if that were not awesome enough, after lunch at a hotel in town, we left behind our buses and luggage and got into a fleet of 4-wheel drive jeeps which took us into the Sahara! Our campsite was almost ten miles into the desert, and the bumpy jeep ride was tons of fun. While waiting for dinner and for all the tents to be pitched, most of us walked a ways from the site, which made me truly feel that I was in the middle of nowhere. A proud Chicagoan (okay, I'm a suburbanite, but I thrive in urban situations), I will admit that I sometimes get nervous going farther out than, let's say, Barrington or Crystal Lake. It's because then I feel like I am lost from civilization in the middle of nowhere and I feel unsafe. Well, that's a feeling I'm pretty sure I amplified by penetrating into the largest desert in not only Africa, but the world. That night alone would make spring break fantastic, but it just kept getting better. We all sat down to a fire-cooked Berber meal (including what we all now call "fire bread") and had a night of dancing and singing around a fire. I'm not kidding. The Berbers (North African nomadic groups) have a really interesting culture, and we had guys playing instruments and a woman dancing. After that died down, we sat around the fire and sang every song ever recorded in the past four decades. Also not kidding. I slept in a tent made for eight but full of perhaps ten, and it was the coldest experience of my life. I woke up and I'm pretty sure there was no blood flowing below my knees. However, we woke up for the sunrise and had some form of breakfast. I survived!
We got back into the jeeps and returned to the hotel, dirty and sandy and content as ever! There we had a real breakfast and, with no showering and minimal freshening up, continued on our southern Tunisian journey.
On the way to Tozeur we crossed through the Chott el-Jérid salt lake, which I expected to be more like the Great Salt Lake or Caspian Sea, and not the sort of salt desert it was. Let's use the term Chott el-Jérid salt pan, I prefer it that way, okay thanks. After staring at sky for miles and writing our names in the salt, we hopped back on the buses and woke up in Tozeur, where we got back into the jeeps and headed up into the mountains. We reached an oasis called Chebika, where there was an abandoned walled town (that we didn't go into) and opportunities for some semi-hiking. We saw the literal oasis (water) in a canyon and a small little waterfall. Eventually we happened upon the most luxurious hotel ever, the Tamerza Palace. We had a classy as hell lunch and they told us we could buy massages and spa treatments if we wanted. Tempting, but I did not partake. Tamerza was awesome, and I remember calling my mom that night since it was her birthday. Cute!

Because of the rain, which almost ruined our plans to camp in the Sahara, we couldn't do the next morning's plans of riding the Red Lizard train because apparently it was unsafe or tracks were damaged or something of the sort. Instead, we got back into our trusty jeeps and literally spent that morning and afternoon fooling around with them, blasting techno and driving down cliffs and such. Needless to say, we tipped the drivers well. We also stopped at another Star Wars site, and again I realized I should probably re-watch the movies. Off we went to the hotel in Sbeitla, where we spent the night sitting around in the lobby (and watching mostly Western music videos on some Cairo-based TV station on a big-screen). The next morning, our first stop was the Roman ruins at Sbeitla, which were cool mainly because I saw a group of old Sicilian tourists. We then kept on for Kairouan, the most holy city in Tunisia. We visited the Great Mosque and right around the corner was a place where we had a showing of Tunisian rugs. Some people bought rugs, which I would do too but I didn't know how to deal with its care and transport. Maybe next time I'm in Tunisia, right? After walking through our hundredth medina and stopping at the mausoleum of Sidi Sahbi, the barber of the Prophet, our time in Kairouan came to a close. We headed for, sadly, the last city on our itinerary, Hammamet.
Hammamet is beautiful. Another coastal Mediterranean paradise, my school saved some of the best for last as we spent our last two days there. I spent my Friday night at the hotel, enjoying the generous buffet and the bar. Saturday morning we slept in a bit (thank goodness!) and, after breakfast, some of us headed into the medina for some shopping and wandering. It turned into quite a productive walk! The weather was perfect, warm and with a breeze, and it sunk in that our African spring break wouldn't last forever. Still, I'm glad I was able to partake in the nightlife that evening and had a blast on my last night in Tunisia. On Sunday, in simple fashion, we returned to Tunis and the airport, where we waved goodbye to the Maghreb and boarded our Tunisair flight for Rome. I will never forget the experiences I had in Tunisia on Spring Break 2010, certainly my most exotic yet, or the things I have subconsciously learned about myself and my worldviews. So, thank you Africa, I'll be back as soon as I can, but until then, bislema and enhebbeck!

Spring Break 2010: Tunisia

So. Spring Break 2010: Tunisia. Where to even begin? I mean, North Africa! Let me start by saying that the ten days I spent on this school study trip comprise one of the best experiences of my life so far. Looking back on break, I can't believe I did all the things I did and experienced so much. I'm dividing spring break into two entries, because one is just too tiring to write or read or comprehend all at once.
Our story begins at the JFRC (the J-Force, the J-Frick, the Jo-FeRoCe). After an embarrassing near-emergency in which I almost embarked on a 10-day journey without my glasses or any contacts besides the pair of dailies I was wearing, I have since learned that packing takes much more time and attention than I had given it. So we 70 students piled into coach buses and headed for Fiumicino, from where we flew a direct Rome-Tunis flight in.. less than an hour? Nice. And boom, I was in Africa. My third continent before I even turned 20! So many statistics flew through our heads as we took our first steps off the plane (in Africa), had our first bus ride (in Africa), ate our first meal (in Africa), and so on. After landing in Tunis, Tunisia's capital city, the first stop on our agenda was.. the US Embassy! He's a silly (read as: nerdy) guy, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. So after that, we headed to our hotel and, after a delicious dinner buffet there, went out to a hookah bar in Sidi Bou Said, compliments of the JFRC.
The next morning everyone put on their best business casual and we sat down for a presentation by a notable Tunisian scholar, which would have been wonderful, if a painfully strong language barrier and not enough sleep were not the two overriding factors in this equation. Afterwards it was off to a luncheon with a large group of Tunisian law students, followed by another presentation on Islam and women. We young adults of the world walked through the medina a bit, and that was it for the day. Important to know, by now I had already fallen in love with Tunisia. That night I don't remember what we even did, but I'm sure it was fun, exciting, and slightly adorable.

That Sunday morning we headed out from our hotel for the Bardo Museum in Tunis, full of ancient Roman mosaics and statues and whatnot. After lunch in Le Kram, we began our rainy tour of Carthage. For the next few hours, we hopped on and off our humid buses and explored the ancient Carthaginian Empire. Stops included a child necropolis at Tophet, the Roman forum on Byrsa hill, and the Antonine baths and some other ruins along the coast. Next we visited the U.S. WWII Cemetery and Memorial of North Africa, where fallen American soldiers from the North African campaign are laid to rest. After our time in the greater Tunis area, we set out for out hotel in Sousse, another city on the Mediterranean coast.
The next morning we woke up, now in a new part of Tunisia. This Monday was a busy day! Our time in Sousse was brief, and we headed straight to El Jem. Once there, we visited the amazing Roman amphitheatre (you know, like a colosseum, except only the Colosseum should be called that). It was breathtaking, especially not yet having been inside the largest and most famous one "at home" in Rome. It was my second amphitheatre after the one in Pompei. Tunisia continued to prove itself to be a gorgeous country. Of course, we stopped at another mosaic museum before piling back into the buses and moving down to Gabès.
There, we visited a spice market where I bought cinnamon and saffron (qerfa and zafaran), and I'm excited to cook something with them when I return home. On our way to Matmata and our hotel, we stopped (semi-invasively) at the home of this old Tunisian woman. It was cool to see the place though, and afterwards we arrived at a (the?) Star Wars bar. I don't remember the films much, so I couldn't conclude that we were being misled or not when they said it was the actual set from the bar scenes. Regardless, we enjoyed ourselves immensely, and spent the night in a neat hotel with a similar cavey theme.

München

And now, for my German weekend in the wonderful Bavarian city of Munich. Friday evening consisted of our flight in, and after a brief train ride from the airport into the city, we were in München! I had my first German pretzel in the train station, and this began the food-filled weekend. We stayed at the Jaeger's Hostel, where part of your check-in includes a free (well, "free," included in what you paid) shot of Jaeger. After getting settled in, we decided to go looking around a bit (read as: wandering the red-light district), but when we noticed that everything was a bunch of casinos and closed sex shops, we decided to head back to the hostel. It was this night I used the lobby computer to read my e-mail, and found out about getting the RA position for next schoolyear. Excited, I went to bed so I could experience the next day fully.
Saturday morning we woke up in our squishy but comfortable beds, and headed out to find some breakfast before the free walking tour started. And what did I find? Only the most delicious thing ever. Arriving at a bakery on one of the main streets downtown, my eyes fell upon a heavenly strawberry pastry of some kind, called something like Erdbeer Royal. It was basically this: think of a soft, flaky, delicious croissant, and then stuff it with Bavarian cream, and lastly top it with strawberries. After enjoying this taste of heaven, we headed over to Marienplatz (the statue, of Mary, pictured to the left, is in its center) in time for the noon glockenspiel show. You know, glockenspiel, as in that large cuckoo clock that plays music twice a day. Next we went on the city's free walking tour (with tour guide Mark, from Essex). We saw most of the important stuff in the center of the city, from town halls and churches to historical locations such as where Hitler was arrested when he first tried to take over. The end of the tour meant some more wandering around and semi-shopping.
Being hungry college students, we had dinner at the Augustiner Bierhalle, which was DELICIOUS. We started off with a basket (a basket!) of soft pretzels, as if it was pre-dinner bread, and to appreciate the culture of course, Augustiner beer. They set down a small pot of mustard in the middle of the table, which just amplified the godliness of the pretzels. For the meal, I ordered sausages with potato salad, and of course utilized the mustard with the sausages. The meal was wunderbar. After a rest at the hostel, we went on, surprise, a beer challenge organized by the same company that provides free tours of the city. The challenge took us to four places, consisting of two bierhalles, one bar, and the bar inside the hostel next door to ours. One of the bierhalles was the famous Hofbräuhaus. Apart from its beer and entertainment, it has the history of being where Hitler himself spoke many a time. That's.. weird! And I was in that hall! Thankfully the atmosphere was very friendly and accommodating, and not authoritarian like its most famous patron.After our beer challenge evening, back in the hostel it was time for bed, or so I thought. I decided to go back down to our hostel's bar for some water (what a smart/good boy!) and it ended up having a few people sitting around. The night continued later than I'd thought it would, and after lots of socialization with Brits and an Irishman, falling right asleep in our room.
Our sadly last morning of the Bavarian weekend, on Sunday, started with an altogether-too-early checkout, which also meant carrying luggage around for the rest of the day. Being a Sunday morning, everything was closed until noon/after church, but since we were hungry we partook in a Burger King breakfast, the only place that was open yet. After that, we wandered around stuffing our faces even more (Bavarian cream doughnuts, chocolate doughnuts, topfenstrudel, apfelstrudel). The main destination of the day, which we decided moments before actually going, was an art museum called the Alte Pinakothek. Pretty neat stuff! Then, sadly, it was time for the train station. Before leaving, I indulged in the station's Starbucks for my first European frappuccino, and also ate two (effing amazing) brats. Then, it was leaving for airport, our flight back to Italia, and coming home. I'll miss Germany, and wish I had the time to visit other cities, Berlin especially, but I know I'll get around to that one day. My last trip before spring break was an absolute success, leaving me content, but also excited for ten days in Tunisia!