The Dream is Almost Over

I've been back in Denmark for over a week now and it seems almost surreal. Now that I've been away from home for nearly three months, it's a little difficult to imagine coming home in only twenty five days. When I arrived back in Copenhagen to meet my host family, it felt like coming home, but the tricky thing is, it's not home. My mind has finally caught up with my body here in Denmark. And now that my departure is looming, it's a strange feeling. In twenty five days I'll be boarding the aircraft that will take me away from dreamland back to reality. I can already tell that when I step off the plane it will be like waking up-- the dream will be over.

But I look forward to coming home because there is nothing like being home. I'll be surrounded by my family and my things. I'll have more than just a suitcase's amount of clothes to chose from and I'll be able to watch T.V without subtitles hanging at the bottom.

Thanksgiving is approaching in America but not here in Denmark. DIS and the students have organized some festivities, but it is no where near what it's like back home. My host family and a few others gathered together on Saturday to celebrate with a traditional Thanksgiving feast made by the students (and sponsored by DIS). We shared the tradition with the Danes and they seemed to enjoy it. The food was good, yet not like my mom's cooking (especially the pumpkin pie). I liked attempting to explain to my family what Thanksgiving is about in America and what it means. I told them it's about being thankful for the past year, for friends, for family, for health. We each wrote down something we were thankful for on cut out paper in the shape of leaves-- something all the American students at one point in time did in preschool. The Danes caught onto the idea quickly and shared what they were thankful for; their families, health, happiness, their American student. Markus, my eight year old host brother, wrote on his paper that he was thankful for his Playstation 3. I smiled and thought of my nephews back home. It may not have been exactly like Thanksgiving in America, but it was close. We certainly ate a feast complete with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, cranberries, and all the other Thanksgiving staples and of course, pumpkin pie. My host family tried everything willingly-- some of it was too sweet but for the most part the indulged in the rest. I wish that I could have had my mom's pumpkin pie for them to try though because nothing comes close to it.

Other than Thanksgiving, life back in Denmark has been normal. I'm readjusting to waking up in the dark and coming home in the dark. The winter is here and it's bitter cold with harsh winds and rain. The other day as I stepped out of the house around 7:45 it was snowing; the first of the season. Christmas is in Denmark too. Since there's no Thanksgiving, Christmas season begins November 1st. Lights are strewn all around Copenhagen and Tivoli has reopened for the Christmas season. Now with snow on the ground, it really does appear to be the season to be jolly.

On Thursday I depart for my own Thanksgiving celebration. I'll be flying to Amsterdam where Nick will meet me at the airport. I'm excited to see Nick but nervous for the traveling because I am completely on my own. I am responsible for getting myself to the airport, getting on the plane, and everything else in between. Plus, I'll be alone on the plane ride. But it will be well worth it, I'm sure.

17 days, 5 countries, 5 capitals, Countless Experiences; part 5

Berlin, Germany: November 10-13

The final stop: Berlin. Before arriving in Berlin, I had a gut feeling that there was something about it I would love. And I was correct. When I stepped off the plane it felt almost instant that I fell head over heels in love with Berlin. It's hard to capture, but it was apparent that both my mom and I felt this way about Berlin. Maybe it was the hospitality of our pension or the patrons in the street, maybe it was the history that busted up from even the sidewalks, or maybe it was the amazing food (not German food though). Whatever it was, Berlin captured me only after a few short days.

We purchased transportation cards because unlike many of the other cities, things in Berlin seemed to be a little more spread out across the grid. We didn't do this begrudgingly-- our feet needed the rest. On the first night we ate at a restaurant called "Santa Maria" which was suggested to us by our friendly pension manager. Santa Maria proved to be not only the best food we had on the entire trip (who knew Berlin would be the place for that?) but also the most fairly priced. For under 12 euro each we received bread, soup, a main course, dessert or tea, and kind service (who translated the menu for us since we unfortunately don't read German).

After we were rejuvenated by the excellent meal and cozy atmosphere of the restaurant, we took the double decker bus (which we would end up relying heavily on while traveling in Berlin) to Alexanderplatz, a busy shopping center. Alexanderplatz is a cosmopolitan and bustling area with modern stores, including a giant department store that my mom and I found warmth inside (and also a giant candy wall). After wandering around Alexanderplatz we then took the heated bus to the Reichstag. The Reichstag is the current parliament building and was so before Hitler's Nazi occupation in Germany. Although Hitler didn't actually use the building, the Nazis took it over when the Third Reich controlled Germany. From the pictures inside the building its possible to see the terrible condition the building was in after World War II-- the walls were crumbling from nearby explosions and remains of the once grand building were scattered throughout the street. Some time after the end of the Cold War the Reichstag was redone and now represents the perseverance of the German people as it stands strongly in Berlin. From the Reichstag building atop the dome there is also a view of Berlin that is indescribable when seen at night.

After taking American history an uncountable amount of times in school (it sometimes seems that is the only history we learn about) I was a little aware about the Cold War but no where near an expert. I badgered my mom for answers because she had lived through it and I obviously had not since I was born just shy of a month before the Berlin wall came down. But it seems that the Cold War and what happened in Berlin is both largely unknown and very complicated. At the Check Point Charlie museum (a museum located where the American occupation boarder met the Communist occupation boarder-- a place where many tried to escape from the communist side to the other) I read over accounts from the oppression that the German people were forced into and their many attempts of escapes from the East to the West. But still there is so much information I don't know and don't understand. Not only do I not comprehend, but I can't even imagine. The idea of putting up a wall to divide a city, each claimed by different countries, seems almost childish and primal (almost like siblings dividing up a room and saying this is mine and that is your's). I don't really get it. But my eyes were opened to say the least while I was at the museum. I had no idea that Germans had to go to such extreme lengths to reach freedom in the West. I can only account a few of the stories-- the ones that really stuck out to me-- but there were so many written on the walls that it practically covered floor to ceiling. Creative ideas were formulated in those desperate times, such as building compartments inside small vehicles so that a person could barely squeeze into to cross the boarder, or hollowing out surfboards, or building a hot air balloon. The clever maneuvers were somewhat successful but there were still those who suffered on the other side. And it's hard to believe that it was a mere twenty-one years ago that this was happening. It hasn't even been a lifetime yet but it seems so distant.

We strolled casually to the Berlin wall (it's odd to put casually and Berlin wall in one sentence because there is absolutely nothing "casual" about the wall). The remains loom over the sidewalk and it's only a small section. It's unbelievable that so much occurred at this wall-- so much that I don't even know about. People died trying to get across. A wall is a perfect representation for the divide of the country. It was a barrier of freedom to many and now it stands as a reminder that easily it could all change again. Now more than ever I realize how fortunate I am to have never experienced oppression.

After the wall we visited the Jewish Museum. The museum is different than most and one would expect it to largely be about the Holocaust. Yet the museum is mostly comprised of Jewish history dating back to the 1300s. There is a portion of the museum that reflects upon the Holocaust and includes items and trinkets that were stolen from the Jewish people. The construction and execution of the Holocaust section is intriguing. It's similar to the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C. Along the walls are big bold names of cities in Europe and there are a few dark windows that you have to get very close to the glass to see the contents. Inside there is a small description of the items; pieces recovered from Jewish families of the Holocaust, letters, pictures, and other what would be meaningless articles. The rest of the museum, as I said, is dedicated to the history of the Jewish people. I enjoyed walking through it because it discussed other attributes of Jeudiasm than the persecution of the Holocaust.

It's difficult to pinpoint and I could go on for hours discussing the atmosphere of Berlin in reference to not only World War II but also the Cold War and the Soviet occupation. One observation was that Germans are somewhat hesitant to talk about the Nazi occupation-- which is understandable, after the war many were ashamed of Germany and it took years to recuperate. But the Germans seem to be open about the Soviet occupation of Germany because then it was Germans who were oppressed. It's a complex history that Germany has and I can understand why it raises many questions. But to describe it best I would say there is an electricity, an energy in Berlin and Germany that can't be matched. It's obvious that there is something unique about Germany-- they survived a lot of turmoil either by some of their citizens doing or by the control of others, but they made it through and have proven that they are a strong nation full of life, vibrancy, and brilliant minds.

That night we again visited Alexanderplatz as it started to drizzle. We carried our umbrellas with us although mine was broken and somewhat of a hazard (I borrowed it from the pension) and we stopped in a few shops. One book shop we visited was "Berlin Story," one which Rick Steve's recommended. We ate dinner at a somewhat modest chain restaurant and again had excellent food.

On the second and final full day in Berlin we visited the Brandenburg gate with the Goddess of Victory standing strongly at the top. Near the gate there is a Room of Silence where visitors can sit quietly to meditate on the themes of peace, equality, and other heavy material. It is a fitting room for this purpose because it is in the shadow of the Brandenburg gate.

The very new Holocaust memorial (built in 2005) is near the gate. The memorial is, like much of Berlin's displays from World War II, different than the usual Holocaust memorial that captures the atrocity through millions of names etched, quotes about oppression, or emaciated figures of stone. Instead the memorial in Berlin is comprised of about two thousand tall standing planks in varying sizes in rows. The stone walk way dips up and down to create the illusion of great hills and the vertical planks add to this. This memorial almost says more than the others I've seen. It doesn't have any names or pictures or quotes. It is more symbolic. What I see is the dark and uncertain future that effected everyone in the world-- not only those who perished. It was a worldwide, human race, war that involved everyone, even future generations. At the end of the each row though, through the falls and rises, there is an end that can be seen. A small light peering through the maze like structure. I found the memorial to be very profound and is probably one of my favorite parts of Berlin.

We went to the world-class aquarium for a more light-hearted afternoon. There was the typical jelly fish, exotic fish, reptiles, insects, and other sea creatures. I was a bit disappointed that there were no sharks as they are the kings and queens of the sea. But still, the aquarium was a nice side trip for me and my mom. It was almost like being a child again and I appreciate that because those days are quickly fading.

That night we dined at Santa Maria again. And again it was delicious. With full and satisfied bellies we went into the heart of Berlin one more time to ride to the top of the T.V tower. From the hundreds of meters above the city we could marvel at the city. As I stood up top I thought about all those who had walked the streets and all those who had wished to be anywhere else-- the Jews who were murdered and persecuted, the Germans on the East side who unfairly were thrown into an oppression a lot of the world isn't fully aware of. I thought about the evil men, Hitler and his accomplices, the power thirsty Nazis, who roamed those streets. But now those are mere memories for a select few and with time, they will somehow cease to exist and it will only be what is written down in a history books or diaries. And of course the wounds will never be completely healed, but with time there will hopefully be an ease of the painful recollections.

The next morning, Saturday, I sadly said goodbye to Berlin but I hope to someday return. We landed in Copenhagen and although I was upset our trip was over, it was nice to be back with my host family. My mom and I went to Stroget and I showed her Nyhavn, the harbor. In the time that we were away, Denmark prepared Christmas. Nyhavn was decorated with lights and small, warm shopping huts along the canal. It felt hygge being back, bundled up in our coats and enjoying the city of Copenhagen. I do wish I had more time with my mom in Copenhagen because although it may not be a large tourist city, it still has a lot to offer.

On Sunday my mom departed for America. It was difficult watching her get in line at the check out counter knowing I would not be following her. Of course soon enough I will be. The next morning it was odd being without my mom, it was almost an empty feeling. Luckily it won't be too long until I'm back home in Baltimore. But I had a wonderful time exploring Europe with her. We saw more than I can account for and of course I am more thankful than I could possibly show. In total we saw five countries: Denmark, Czech Republic, Austria, Italy, and Germany in only a matter of seventeen days!

I know I said I'd keep my blogs about our trip short, but I couldn't help myself. It was a wonderful adventure and I simply couldn't cut anything out. Now it's back to semi-reality in Copenhagen and then in only a few short weeks its back to actual reality. It's hard to believe the time is almost over. I have to make the last few weeks count.

17 days, 5 countries, 5 capitals, Countless Experiences; part 4

Rome, Italy: November 6-10

Of course one can’t visit Rome without taking a day trip to the Vatican. It would be sinful. After checking the Coliseum off my life list of things to do, we headed out in the rain towards the holiest city on earth. Once we reached the Vatican we qued up in line for St. Peter’s Basilica, the largest Catholic church in the world and the epitome of Catholicism. We waited in line in the drizzle rain to enter the Basilica. We got through security but just kidding. We didn’t make it actually inside the Basilica. Without knowing we took a wrong turn (a simple mistake) and ended up in the catacombs (which were interesting). Among us were many if not all the tombs of the some two hundred Popes and leaders of the Catholic Church. But once we were out of the tombs we weren’t allowed to go back the other way towards the Basilica. I was ready to throw up my hands and start saying obscenities because of the lack of signs directing visitors towards each destination. But I didn’t because I think that would have been wildly inappropriate.

We decided to let the Vatican defeat us during that round, but after visiting the Vatican museum and the Sistine Chapel, we would return for round two. We walked back out the street, by this time it was beginning to rain a little harder (just enough for every street vendor to ask me four times if I wanted to buy one of their crappy umbrellas to which I had shrinking patience for). Of course by this time the line for the museum stretched a few blocks and wound down the street. In the rain we roughly waited about an hour and half to get inside the museum and chapel. Finally after much shivering and complaining (on my end) we were in. But we still had awhile to go until we reached the main destination—Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel with the elaborate ceiling paining of the creation of man. It took awhile because of course with the Catholic Church nothing is easy and simple. We were required to walk what felt like miles towards the Sistine Chapel and after passing multiple look alikes, we were below one of the most famous ceilings in the world. To say the least, the Sistine chapel is magnificent. Michelangelo without at doubt was one of the most creative individuals to have ever walked the earth. The detail and imagery that is involved in the embellished ceiling is almost enough to turn a nonreligious person into a devout Catholic. Afterwards we looked around the Vatican museum and a few of the exhibits.

We were then ready to try the Basilica again. This time, after waiting about twenty minutes, we turned left. It was worth going back for. The Basilica is enormous and extravagant. I can’t even fathom the amount of money put into the heart that holds Catholicism. It makes one wonder how everything works but that is an entirely different subject. For once I was going to let myself be ignorant and just marvel at the beauty of the structure, architecture, and artwork. Inside we saw the Pietà statue of Mary holding Jesus (again done by Michaelangelo). The Basicilca also holds the statue of St. Peter in which it is traditional to rub his feet. The feet of the statue are so worn down that they are smooth and the toes make a now club foot. It was humorous to watch people pretend to be thoughtful and run their hands along the foot and then have their picture taken by another person. My mom and I laughed at the hierocracy of the situation as the guard ushered people away from the holy symbol.

Now that we had seen everything at the Vatican except for the Pope, we went back to the real world. That night we decided to take our religious leader (our patron saint of travel) Rick Steves advice on dinner. He led us to a “classy villa” called La Gallina Bianca. The food was above par and certainly better than what we previously had.

On our last full day the rain was on and off like a faucet. One moment it would appear to have stopped and then it would turn into a strong down pour. For some reason, I believe that Rome was almost more beautiful in the rain. It was as if it almost washed away the filth and cleansed the city. But I was determined to not buy a cheap umbrella from the hassling street walkers. After ducking into a few corridors to shield us from the rain and then going practically in circles on the public transit system, we arrived at our destination—the Pantheon. One nice thing I have to say about all the religious Catholic churches in Rome is that they are free. The Pantheon is the oldest Catholic Church in Rome and also houses the graves of two Roman kings and the famous artist Raphael. Although elaborate in its own way, the Pantheon is nowhere near the size or exuberance of St. Peter’s. But the ceiling with a giant hole in the center is awe worthy. Again, I am astonished by the minds behind the building of such places. Never do I think I could be as wonderfully unique as those who thought to create such masterpiece structures.

Again we followed the advice of our guidebook and ate at a restaurant behind the Pantheon called “Miscellanea.” Finally we had excellent Italian food (of course it was on our last day). Not only was the food good but the atmosphere was welcoming and fun. I had an actually tasty pizza while my mom had some type of pasta concoction. Both were excellent. The service was great too as well as the prices. Our waiter, who Rick Steves mentions in his book, was a sweet young guy who on seeing the Best of Europe book on the table gave us a sample of the homemade and delicious “sexy wine” (concocted from berries; very sweet and very tasty).

Although our bellies were full, we had to stop at the supposedly world famous (and obviously mentioned in The Book; not the bible, the guidebook), Gelateria Caffe Pasticceria Giolitti. The Giolitti was appealing and had an assortment of mouthwatering pastries, but we had come for the gelato. I ordered my favorite pistachio of course and my mom got chocolate. They were both good, but again, it actually wasn’t the best. The creamy gelato was satisfying though and I am glad to say I tried it.

As a parting with Rome we went back to finish up the rest of the National Museum, where we had originally started our trip with the friendly museum guide. We were glad to see him again and to explain all the wonderful sites we’d seen. On our last night we also revisited the Trevi fountain. At night the fountain is magnificent. The lights around the edge highlight the large statues and details that surround the water. Of course we followed the tradition of tossing in a few coins into the fountain. I watched them sink to the bottom and that was the last of Rome for me.

We departed Rome the next morning and although it was a historical and sometimes humorous adventure, I was glad we were heading to our last destination, Berlin. I had had it with the umbrella pushers.

17 days, 5 countries, 5 capitals, Countless Experiences; part 3

Rome, Italy: November 6-10

The longest leg of our trip was spent in one of the most jam packed historical cities in the world, Rome. My expectations were high for Rome. I figured it’d be like stepping into a time capsul and then transported to a beautiful city full of life and culture. Unfortunately I was mistaken. Rome is a wonderful city to visit as it is filled to the brim with history and ancient ruins but it is far from beautiful. The streets are littered with garabage and sometimes questionable sticky residue. Everywhere is adorned with tourist-trap gift shops with unoriginal trinkets and hoeky knick-knacks that are actually made in China. The food isn’t as sensational as I had built it up to be (more about that later). But although it isn’t a charming place to visit, it is busting at the seams with history. And I suppose at one point it time, it was not such a tourist trap. Nonetheless I am glad I went there. I figure the Colesium among other attractions are worth braving the mediocre food, bothersome street vendors, and tricky public transportation.

Because we had woken up early that morning to board the plane headed toward Rome, we were exhausted by the time we reached our pension. Yet, we couldn't check in to rest yet, therefore we decided to try and get acclimated with Rome.Under the suggestion of our pension and the guidance of Rick Steves, my mom and I, weary from our early morning, stumbled our way to the Tevi Fountain. In the day light we saw the bustling atmosphere of the Roman streets. Near the Trevi fountain were street entertainers (as well as annoying and sometimes rude beggers). There were of course tourist shops and pricy restaurants. After searching for some time and maybe wandering in a few circles, we decided to dine at a small and empty Italian restaurant. I was excited for my first taste of “real” Italian food. I thought it would be like fireworks in my mouth. I ordered some kind of pasta with mushrooms and cream sauce while my mom ordered lasagna. There weren’t fireworks, there weren’t even really sparks or fire crackers. Although the food was edible and certainly better than other’s I’ve tried, it was by far not the best Italian food I’d had in my life. But it felt good to eat. Afterwards I tried my first gelato. Again, I expected it to be amazing. It wasn’t. It wasn’t bad either—it just wasn’t any different from what I’d had previously in Copenhagen. The weather was warm and we walked back to the pension to rest for awhile before heading out again.

After relaxing for a bit we wandered our way back out to the streets. We browsed a few shops for a little near where our pension was located. It had been a few hours since we’d last sat down for lunch so we decided to give it another try with the Italian food (not like there was much choice). We were ushered in to a restaurant called “Bar Washington” that was on the same street as our pension. The waiters stood outside the restaurant and if a passerby so much as hesitated in the slightest way they would exclaim “table for 2?” “table for 3?” (of course depending on how many you were with) or they would say “to eat or drink?” My mom and I were suckered in. We looked at the pictures posted on the outside of the restaurant and figured the food looked tasty and what not. I can easily say that the food I had at “Bar Washington” was the worst Italian food I have ever tried. My mom got spaghetti with meat sauce while I decided to try the margarita pizza (I based this off of the picture that was posted nearby). Both meals were terrible (along with the service and bread that not only was crusty from sitting out but took forever to get). The food was overpriced and absolutely awful. The pizza was worse than frozen and the spaghetti was on par with Chef Boyardi (which might have been better actually). There was absolutely no hint of fireworks in that meal. But it was lesson learned. For the rest of the trip we didn’t give any restaurants with waiters outside trying to usher in customers a second chance.

The next day we purchased the Archeological Card at the National Museum with some very friendly and helpful guidance from a museum worker. Again we were fortunate that we were in walking distance to nearly everywhere in Rome and thus started towards the ancient area that holds the Coliseum, Forum, and Palestine Hill. We first visited the Coliseum with the aid of a very dry but informative audio-guide (but we knew that was coming because Rick Steves already explained that in his book). Walking around the Coliseum was almost surreal to me and although it was crowded, I still enjoyed it. I had heard so much about gladiators and ancient Rome that it was unreal to be there, to have seen it in movies, read about it in books, heard stories of the battles that occurred on those very grounds. Epic battles between man and man as well as man and animals were fought here. It truly was a different time. Things were carried out with swords and death was not an issue. While being there I started to think about how truly amazing the human race is; to have built such a powerful structure with limited resources (no heavy machinery) and I thought about the brain power and imagination that it took to formulate such building plans. But then I thought about how easily Mother Nature could take it all away with a swift and easy earthquake.

Palatine hill was the next stop. Palatine hill is the remnants of a palace and the ruins of many other buildings such as Romulus and Remus’s homes. From the top of the hill there is a view of the Forum that is astonishing. While looking out onto the grassy plain and hills covered with stones that once held up lavish marble structures, I tried to picture what it looked like when the Forum was the bustling market where Romans used to congregate. Now it is ruins, destroyed by war, the fall of the Roman Empire, and the test of time. While we walked around the Forum all I could think was “I’m walking where Caesar walked!”

Our tired feet made one last trip. We went back to the National Museum to see some of the tapestry, paintings, and sculpture displays.

17 days, 5 countries, 5 capitals, Countless Experiences; part 2

Vienna, Austria: November 3-6

Vienna, the city of music. Actually, Vienna is considered to be the classical capitol of the world-- and for good reason. Musicians such as Mozart, Beethoven, Strauss, and Schubert all called Vienna (or Austria) home at some point in time. While there, I continuously had the Sound of Music's "The Hills Are Alive" stuck in my head on loop. But all the same, the Austria is a beautiful and inspiring country.

During our first full day in Vienna, my mom and I started off by having breakfast at our pension. Afterwords we gathered information from Klaus, our helpful pension manager, about how to get around the city. We then headed off towards Stephensplatz-- the heart of Vienna's hustle and bustle. The square is a combination of historical buildings, such as St. Stephen's cathedral, and cosmopolitan shopping centers. They are all connected through the main walking street (of course compiled of cobblestones, which after a few days of traveling on can hurt the feet pretty badly). Along the street are tourist shops such as "Mostly Mozart." There must the equivalence of "Mostly Mozarts" in Vienna as there are Candy Kitchens in Ocean City.

Although St. Stephen's cathedral was partially covered in scaffolding (it was being cleaned) the gothic structure is still awesome in size and quite gorgeous with it's enormous towers and mosaic tiled roof. Inside my mom and I climbed the 343 spiral steps up the south tower. The steps were located in the small, cramped, and narrow space of the south tower and was enough to make anyone dizzy and disoriented (and maybe a little claustrophobic). But the trek was worth it. Not only was a it a work out but the from the top of the tower, the streets of the capital of classical music could clearly be seen. Amazingly, the streets that I was peering down upon from hundreds of feet above are the same that Mozart and other great minds walked. It's baffling to think of all the creativity and artistic talent that roamed those same streets that I myself had wandered moments before (this revelation came when walking many of the streets of the cities I visited and became a common feeling while on my travel break).

After climbing back down the 343 Stephensplatz, the two of us grabbed some hot dogs to nourish ourselves after that tiring hike. We then of course indulged and stopped at one of the popular bakeries, Aida, for a cup of tea and a too tempting dessert. We casually strolled down the cobblestone streets until we reached the famous opera house where Mozart performed his first piece for the royal family of Vienna. We would later return to the opera house during our trip so that we could take a guided tour of the inside, but for now, we merely circled the outside.

I followed my mom as she directed us to the outside of one of the lavish Habsburg palaces, the Hofburg palace. I can imagine that the outside of the palace is gorgeous in the summers as well as when it is dusted with winter but I don't think either can compare the golden colors of autumn. The leaves had just finished transitioning from green to a light golden and orange hue and had just begun to sprinkle the earth. We sat on the park benches and relaxed a bit. Although we didn't go inside the castle, I can only fathom the greatness of it. While closing my eyes for a bit on the park bench I pondered what it would be like to be a princess and open the lavish front doors to such a beautiful courtyard that looks into the city of Vienna.

After a little rest, we gathered ourselves and headed back to Stephansplatz where at one of the churches next to the cathedral was holding a free concert. We sat in the pews of the church for nearly a half an hour and listened as the organ rang through the giant pipes. Unfortunately neither my mom or I especially enjoy the organ, but it was free and Vienna is known for music. That night my mom and I dined at a chain restaurant called "Weinerwald." I don't know if we chose it based on the food or the entertaining name. But none the less, the food was actually very delicious.

The next morning we roamed inside the Schoenbrunn palace, another piece of realestate belonging to the Habsburg family. It seems that every corner you turn in Europe, there is a left over piece of a monarchy that once existed. While in the Schoenbrunn palace we toured nearly forty rooms and saw how the Austrians treated there once royal family. The rooms were lined with patterns of gold and silver as well as elaborate tapestries and paintings. I find the monarchy story to be confusing with all the brother, sisters, marriages and what now. But while touring the palace I was in awe of the unbelievably eccentric lifestyle this family had once lived. I had to struggle to keep my mouth from gaping open as I listened to the audioguide's information about the Habsburg family. I suppose the reason for my astonishment is because I have never lived in a country with a ruling monarchy. Inside the palace is the room that six year old Mozart first performed for the King and his daughter. As I walked throughout the rooms I could only picture Tom Hulce's hilarious rendition of Mozart in 1984's classic film "Amadeus." Finally "The Hills are Alive" was out of my head, but now streamed pieces of Mozart's symphonies, especially Papegeno-Papagena duet from the "Magic Flute."

Then we continued walking our tired feet to the opera house for a guided tour. The opera house has held some of the grandest symphonies, ballets, and of course operas. We were led by a theatrical and quite snooty tour guide throughout the opera. With his nose held high and his lingering voice, he showed us the important box seats inside the opera house in which only important (or rich) guests sit during shows. That night we splurged and bought 4 Euro tickets for the standing room area to see the current ballet. The house has a few large areas where guests can stand for the entire show if they wish and can even reserve a spot with a scarf tied around a specific section. I'd never heard of an opera selling tickets for such a small amount or had I heard of individuals marking there territory with scarves. It all seemed strange to me, but when we arrived for our show, low ans behold, there was an abundant amount of scarves. Luckily we were able to situate ourselves in a spot to watch the ballet. I don't know what girl could possibly watch a such beautiful dancing and not wish to be a ballerina. While standing and observing the performance, I instinctively curled my toes while simultaneously bobbing my head to the music. Fortunately it was dark and no one could notice how involved I was in the ballet. I suppose my guilty pleasure is out in the open-- I absolutely love the ballet.

The next morning after waking up literally before the crack of dawn, we stumbled out of bed to catch a plane to our next destination-- possibly one of the most historical cities of the world-- Rome.

17 days, 5 countries, 5 capitals, Countless Experiences; part 1

Like my packing for this trip, I'll have to keep my details about my trip light. If I were to reminisce and go into as much detail as I'd like, I'd be over the weight limit and sitting typing at my laptop for days (not to mention the carpool tunnel I would inevitably develop).

The first night my mom arrived was relaxed. I was overjoyed to see her and have a part of home with me (although it threw my mind for a loop combining the two worlds I've been living in). I was also ecstatic for her to meet my host family. And fortunately the automatically hit it off. Together we showed my Mom around Greve and strolled along the beach where Copenhagen can be seen in the distance. The next day my mom and I went to Roskilde, a town close near where my host family lives. With her my mom brought good weather to Denmark and we were lucky to see autumn in Roskilde. We visited the church where the Kings and Queens of the Danish monarchy are buried dating back to near Viking times. Of course while in Roskilde we saw the Viking Museum which houses numerous wood boats, utensils, and weaponry from the Viking Age. That night we had dinner together with my host family. The food was good as well as the company, of course. The next morning we were driven to the airport where we would depart for our European excursion.

Prague, Czechoslovakia: October 31- November 3

With the Rick Steve's Best of Europe guidebook in hand my mom and I departed for Prague, supposedly one of the most beautiful cities in the world. During our trip Rick Steve's became our travel god and we relied heavily on his guidance and suggestions concerning sights to visit, travel routes, and even where to eat. Along with our cameras and wallets, the book went everywhere with us. Hilariously enough, it was practically a lifeline. After a bit of a hectic journey to the pension, we arrived and were able to settle in a bit before starting our excursion. Although the people of the city left something to be desired, the breathtaking view from the Charles Bridge did not. From the bridge a picturesque panoramic scene could be viewed of the city. Adding to the charm, painters and musicians lined the bridge alongside statues dated from who knows how long ago (some that were very bizarre). After the bridge we sat down for dinner at a small dimly lit restaurant situated ironically next to a TGI Friday’s restaurant where I dared to try some traditional Czechoslovakian food (dumplings, sauerkraut, and pork knee). Surprisingly the meal wasn't bad; I wouldn't necessarily order it again (I'm not a big pork fan and the idea of eating a knee kind of weirds me out). The next few days we explored Prague by foot.

We were fortunate (thanks to my mom’s planning and again Rick Steven’s guidance) that our pension was within walking distance to every attraction in Prague. On our first full day we visited the Jewish Quarter where we saw an abundant amount of Synagogues and an extremely old and crumbled Jewish cemetery. Our next stop that night was the Black Light Theater. I wish that I could explain the magnificence of this performance to a T, but unfortunately my words fall short. The performance is lit by a large black lights around the stage and the dancers wear clothes that reflect the brilliant colors. The performers literally glowed. With a few splices of a comedic ensemble thrown in, the show was very entertaining. I’d never seen anything like it and I doubt I ever will. It’s an even that is solely unique to Prague.

We trekked our tired feet across the Charles bridge again and headed uphill toward the palace the next day. Again the view from the top of the palace was stunning. While in Prague we were warned by our guide book to be wary of tourist scams at restaurants and shops. I can successfully say that my mom and I were unfortunately scammed when we ate an overpriced and mediocre meal near the palace. Although it was frustrating it didn’t ruin the day at all; the palace and chapel nearby were still amazing. After touring the palace my mom and I looked over the edge as the sun hit the red thatched rooftops of the city. It was more the picturesque and I don’t believe any camera could catch what was in front of us. That night we visited the Astronomical clock and waited anxiously with many others for the clock to strike the hour. The clock towers over the city and is known for its elaborate celebration every hour. It sits in the middle of the city square where most of the shops are. I think that the imaginative and antique architecture along with the creative colors of the buildings along the cobblestone streets throughout the city is why Prague is considered to be a beautiful city if not the most beautiful.

On our few hours of the night we searched for the "Lennon Wall." Although it sounds like a myth, the story of the wall is true. The wall was a place where during the USSR's occupation of Czechoslovakia rebels against the communist regime would write "Give Peace a Chance" in graffiti along the wall. Every morning the police would be required to paint over the words. Yet every night the words would be written again. Now the wall stands as a unique monument to Lennon. I'd never heard of the wall before and it turns out few actually know of it. But my mom had heard about it and I was glad that we had found it. Together we looked at the wall that was covered in Lennon lyrics, quotes, and pictures. Although my mom lived through the time (yet didn't experience the oppression directly), I had never been exposed to much of the remnants of the Cold War. While looking at the wall it was difficult to imagine the oppression that the Czechs and many other suffered.

The next morning we boarded a bus towards Vienna where we would continue our journey.