Traveling to Porto, Portugal

We didn't have to wait at the airport for long before we were able to board our flight to Porto. And, thankfully, it was another short flight on the cramped seats of the discount airline. Since it was a late flight, we touched down in Porto around one in the morning. It took about another hour and a half (at best) for us to find our way through the airport to the metro system and through the metro system to the stop for our hostel. Metro doesn't quite seem like the right word for the trains—they were more like the trams prevalent across Europe. But, the stop for our hostel was underground, so I guess in some ways it was a true metro system.

When we climbed the steps out of the metro stop, the first thing I saw was this grand, castle-like structure on the horizon, with a full moon high in the sky, providing an impressive amount of light, given that it was so late at night (or early in the morning!). Our hostel wasn't in the direction of the castle-like building, so we turned around to go down the street and make our way there. The sight there wasn't quite as impressive as the moonlit castle-like building, but even by the dim light of nighttime, I was struck by the beauty of it.

The five of us started making our way up the street, Katie using her iPad to read directions as we tried to find our way through the city. We passed a couple that had clearly been out drinking, and they looked back at us a few times as we walked. When we made it to the top of the street we were on (after struggling to pull rolling suitcases over cobblestone streets), they were still at the sidewalk. The man came up to us and (I'm just going based of hand-signals and context clues here because he only spoke Portugese) asked where we were trying to go. Katie showed him the map on her iPad and he motioned for us to follow him and the woman he was with.

We started walking and the woman told Katie (again, I'm making assumptions about what was actually said) to put her iPad away because it made her look like a tourist. So Katie put her iPad away and we followed this Portugese couple up the street. I turned to Miranda and said “I'm not sure if they're super helpful, or if this is going to end badly for us.” Let me just defend myself here and say that they did seem very helpful, but at two-three in the morning, I was a little wary. But this couple led us straight to the hostel's front door and bid farewell, waving cheerfully to us as we waited for the hostel to unlock the door for us.

Once we got up to the hostel's welcome desk, we were greeted by one of the most chipper wlecome-desk workers I've ever seen. He joked with us as we checked in and made ourselves comfortable, and then he showed us a video that explained some of the history and fun facts about Portugal. It was actually a video that was made to convince Finland to loan Portugal some money during financial troubles. It's really interesting, and it's funny too. And the guy who showed us the video said that the Portugese ambassador showed this video at the council, and the Finnish ambassador came back the next day to say that Finland was going loan Portugal the money they needed. I guess Portugal won that one. Here it is, if you're interested:

We got our keys, towels, and room assignments. The keys were the coolest keys I've ever gotten from a hostel—they were bracelets that used the touch technology, meaning all I had to do to get into the room was touch the bracelet to the pad underneath the doorknob. It was definitely more high-tech than the key to my hostel in Milan that looked like it was the key to a door in an ancient castle. Katie, Sophie, Marissa and I were all in the same room, leaving Miranda on her own for the night. The hostel was sponsoring walking tours in the morning and afternoon, so we decided we'd get up for that (and the free breakfast) so we could get a tour of the city from a local. But since that was so early in the morning, it was time to go to bed—it was already nearly three in the morning!

One Last Day in Barcelona

The Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya...one of the grandest buildings I remember seeing in Barcelona.

The next morning we woke up early. Sydney had already left, but the five of us girls grabbed breakfast, finished packing up our stuff as quickly as we could, checked our luggage into the hostel luggage room, checked out of the hostel, and started our final day of sightseeing in Barcelona. Our first stop was the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya (another site that we had vouchers to get in free for). The soccer stadium for Barcelona's team was just across the square from the metro exit. With Sydney gone to see his friends in Madrid and Lisbon, there wasn't anypne else in our group who was really interested in seeing the stadium. So we just went straight up the street to the museum.

The city of Barcelona, as seen from the steps in front of the
Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. 

The museum was pretty interesting. There were several sections, but we just went to see the old history, which consisted of pieces of architecture—the remnants of columns, paintings from old churches, statues, and other bits and pieces of old history. Most of the stuff in this section of the museum was just from churches that had been excavated or were still standing but starting to deteriorate. It was amazing, the kinds of details that had been preserved in the paintings and bits of architecture on display throughout the museum.

In the open amphitheater section of the museum (probably where tour groups come to have a guide explain certain things to them), there was a huge pipe organ in the balcony at one end of the theatre. I took the elevator up to the balcony to get a better view of it, mostly because I have a huge fascination with pianos and organs, and some of the pipe organs in churches and buildings throughout Europe are astounding in their detail, size, and design. I would have loved if there was a way to check out the inner workings of the organ—not just the pipes that face outward, but what it looks like from the player's perch behind the pipes.

One of the most complete church paintings on
 display in the history section of the museum.

After everyone was done checking out the gift shop, and I was through admiring the pipe organ, we went to go see the art section in the top floor of the museum. They had a few pieces of art that we were all particularly keen to see, including a Picasso piece (although we'd only seen 4,000 of them just two days earlier) and a Salvador Dali. All of the work in the collection was great—I've always loved art museums, and Barcelona's museum had some of the best of the best.

After we finished visiting the museum, we headed back to Park Guell, so that we could visit it during the day. This time, we took the bus from the metro stop to the top of the hill—it was so much easier than that walk!! Although it was seriously crowded. The park was much more crowded during the lunch hour than it had been, but all the street vendors were out, so we were able to buy souvenirs for cheaper prices than we would have found at stores. I got some keychains (to add to my growing collection of keychains from all over Europe), and we wandered the park for probably an hour more before we headed back to the hostel.

We still didn't have to leave for the airport for a few more hours, so we tried to find an Egyptian museum that was close by. We never did manage to find it, but we stopped at a few clothes stores on the same street as our hostel, then just hung out in the luggage room at the hostel for about a half an hour before it was finally time to leave for the airport. So we left the hostel, bags and suitcases in tow, and made our way through the metro system to the airport. It was time to visit Portugal!

The formation of stones opposite the iconic tiled benches of Park Guell. 

A Full Day of Tourism in Barcelona

A lizard, made entire of chocolate!!

The next day was the day that Penn State's football tickets went on sale for everyone in our group. Some of us weren't getting tickets for whatever reason; some of us had people at home buying tickets for us; but some of the people in my group were buying their own tickets that morning. Those of us that didn't need to buy our own tickets that morning spent the first part of the morning visiting the chocolate museum in Barcelona.We all had free admission to the chocolate museum since we'd bought the Barcelona 4-day passes. So we hopped on the metro and headed across town and traded our little tickets for passes into the museum—and the tickets to get into the museum were actually chocolate bars! I was pretty happy about that.

And the famous lizard from Guell park, also
made entirely of chocolate.

The chocolate museum was very cool. There were sculptures made of chocolate throughout the museum, along with displays showing and describing how the chocolate is made—from the harvesting of the cacao beans to the actual process that goes into making chocolate bars. But honestly, I didn't pay too much attention to that part of the museum. The chocolate sculptures were far more interesting. I

couldn't believe the kinds of things that people were able to create using nothing but chocolate!

After we went to the chocolate museum, we headed back to the hostel to meet up with the people that had to buy their tickets. Thankfully, everyone that was buying tickets was able to get their without incident—it's always a little nervewracking to have to rely on hostel or hotel wifi for something important. With our group back together, the six of us went to go take a boat tour. Our Barcelona passes included free tickets for an hour-long boat tour along the coast, so we decided to go do that. I was a little nervous about the boat tour because I get sea-sick, but I figured that for such a short ride, I would probably be fine.

The boat tour wasn't too bad—I did get sea sick, but it was only an hour long, and I didn't get sea sick until we were already about twenty minutes in. The views from the boat also weren't too bad, although we never seemed to really get out of the docks. There were cruise ships on one side and loading docks on the other. Past the loading docks, there were some pretty good views of the hillsides that roll down to the water's edge. And I did get to enjoy a bit of a view out over the open ocean—whenever there

Enjoying the boat tour...before I got sea sick.

was a gap between cruise ships.

After we got back to solid ground, we went off to find lunch. We stopped at the street market on the way there. It was just a little market made up of two rows of tents with people selling jewelry, purses, clothes, carvings, paintings, and probably even more stuff that I can't even hope to remember! I don't think any of us ended up buying anything then—we were two hungry. Lunch was good (just pizza) and Miranda was happy because our waiter was the best one we'd had up to that point in Europe. Miranda works as a waitress back home, and we'd had many waiters and waitresses that did things that Miranda said would've gotten her fired. But at the end of our meal, Miranda told our waiter that he was the best we'd had yet in Europe, and he was really happy to hear that.

About to pass the other funicular cart.

After lunch, we took the metro back through town to get to the funicular up to the top of Tibidabo, which is the tallest mountain in Barcelona. There was a telecommunications tower at the top (called Torre de Collserola) that offers a panoramic view of the city from the inside. We were on the metro and a woman who was a few years older than my friends and I approached us and said “You guys are American?” She was also American and she was living in Spain to study Spanish—what a coincidence! She ended up tagging along with us to the tower.

After getting off the metro (after sitting at the stop for almost five minutes before realizing it was the one we were supposed to get off at) we walked a short ways from there to find the funicular. Then we took the funicular up the side of the mountain and walked from there to the tower. We tried to catch the bus that ran from the funicular to the top, but they seemed to be pretty spaced out—we didn't see them often, and when we did, we weren't at bus stops, so the bus wouldn't stop for us. But the walk wasn't too bad, and we were at the tower soon enough. The girl that had joined us on the metro talked to some of the people around the base of the tower until we figured out where we were supposed to go.

Finally, we got to the ticket office at the bottom of the tower. We had free passes for this as well, so we went through pretty easily. Once there were about ten of us gathered in the waiting area, someone came to operate the elevator. We crammed into the elevator and it went up to what was marked as the eleventh floor, but was the first closed off level of the tower. We got out and walked around, enjoying the view from around the tower. Each window pane was marked at the top and bottom with a city that

The view from the mountaintop, overlooking Barcelona.

was in that general direction and how far away it was.

We spent about a half an hour at the tower before we headed back down. We walked back out to the road and waited at the bus stop for the bus to come and pick us up. There were more attractions (more popular ones) further up the mountain, so by the time the bus got to us, it was so packed that it just drove right past. I was not going to wait around for a half an hour just to have another packed bus drive right past without picking us up, so I said that I was going to walk back down to the funicular station. Everyone else wanted to wait for the bus, but after a minute or two, they joined me.

We took the funicular back down the mountain, walked from the funicular to the metro, and went from there to Sagrada Familia, which is this huge, constantly-under-construction church in the heart of the city. The girl that we'd met on the metro was still with us, so our group of six (plus one) climbed up out of the metro to see it. One side of the church was covered in scaffolding and there were a few cranes poking into the sky behind the church. I don't know how long it's been under construction, but I do know that all the postcards I saw in Barcelona that depicted Sagrada Familia showed it under construction—so it's definitely been under construction for a while.

The line to get into Sagrada Familia wrapped halfway around the block, and we would have to pay to

The front columns of Sagrada Familia.

go in. Since it was already later in the day, we decided just to go to the park across the street, take some pictures, and figure out where to go from there. That was when the girl that had joined us for the day left us and headed back to her host family in the suburbs of Barcelona. Now that our group was back down to just six Penn Staters, we hung out in the park for a little while, watching a street performer who made these huge bubbles using two ropes strung between two sticks. It was really mesmerizing.

Finally, we decided that we wanted to go see Park Guell, since it's one of the biggest attractions in Barcelona. The five of us girls still had time to go sightseeing the next day, but Sydney was leaving super early, so we wanted all of us to be able to see the park. We took the metro to the stop nearest Park Guell, not realizing that the park was actually at the top of the hill, at least a twenty minute walk from th metro station. When we first got off though, there was this beat-up patch of a back yard. We were looking around, trying to see the park or how to get there, so I said “And...there's the park!” Thankfully, that wasn't the case.

We finally got up to the park after a pretty steep fifteen-twenty minute climb up the side of the hill. Fortunately fo us, once we'd gotten about three quarters of the way up, there were escalators to take the rest of the way. My first impression of the park was that it was nice, but nothing to write home about. We'd come to the park from a side entrance, so we weren't seeing any of the tiling that the park was famous for. It was just plants, some short stone walls, and a packed earth path winding through all the plants.

The view from the highest point of Park Guell.

Our first stop was this wooden fencing post with scribbling all over it. There was a pretty good view through and above the fence of the city, and we all agreed it was the perfect place to add our names to the countless names already written there, just to memorialize our time in Barcelona. After we'd written our names there, we continued on through the park and found our way to what has to be the highest point in the park. There was a cross stuck into the ground at the top of this mound of piled rocks (this seems to be a pretty common theme across Europe—crosses at the summits of mountains and famous sites). We took a bunch of pictures of the city, since there was a 360 degree view of Barcelona. It was yet another one of those moments where I felt like everything that had led up to this point was worth it, just for bringing me to this spot.

Gaudi's tiled benches of Park Guell.

Finally, we found our way from that peak to the iconic section of Park Guell—the tiled benched that curve all around the park. There's a tiled lizard at the main entrance to the park that's probably one of the most famous sites in Barcelona. The park was all but abandoned at that time of night—it was probably about eight at night. So we ran around, took a bunch of pictures, and Katie, Sophie, Marissa, and Miranda did a vine (a 6-second video) of them singing the Cheetah Girls song that they sang in that same park.

With the sun setting, the six of us decided it was time to find dinner and head back to the hostel—especially since Sydney had to leave so early the next day, and the rest of us still had to check out by ten the next morning, even though our flight wasn't until much later in the day. So we got dinner, made our way back to the hostel, packed up some of our stuff, and called it quits on our long day of tourism in Spain.

Picasso, Tapas, and Fireworks

Casa Batlló, one of the famous sites of Barcelona, was right down the street from the hostel we stayed at.

The next day, I made sure to get up in time for breakfast at the hostel (I hate starting the day without breakfast, and I always take advantage of free breakfasts at hotels and hostels). Breakfast was over around ten, and I think we finally left the hostel around noon. There was only one thing on our list to see that day—the Picasso museum. We'd all bought Barcelona cards, which included free public transit rides and several free tickets for museums and famous sites. However, the Picasso museum was not one of them. So we decided to go see the museum on Sunday, since the museum has free admissions on Sundays.

The church that we found before the museum.

We took the metro to the stop nearest the Picasso museum and walked around for a bit before going to the museum. We stopped for lunch first—our first full day in Barcelona, and we got lunch at an American-style diner. We all wanted authentic Spanish food, but burgers and milkshakes were just too tempting! After enjoying our not-so-Spanish lunch, our group of six continued on to find the museum. We ended up going the wrong way at first, and found a cathedral. I have no idea what the name of the cathedral was, but we took some pictures, and then got directions from a local on how to find the Picasso museum.

When we finally found the museum, there was a line of people stretched through the alleyway that led to the entrance. It took almost an hour of waiting in line to finally get into the museum—people turn out in droves for free admissions! We took turns visiting the shops lining the street, and it made the wait go faster. I bought some souvenirs in one of the shops—a turtle decorated in tile in the style of Guell Park. It's perfect for my little collection of turtles!

The altar area of the church we saw after we
visited the Picasso museum.

The museum was astounding. There were over 4,000 paintings, sketches, and works of art—all by Picasso. And this museum isn't even all of Picasso's work—hundreds, maybe even thousands of pieces of his art are scattered throughout the world. It's mind-boggling to think that one man could create that much art. I know that it was his job and his passion, so he devoted almost all his time to creating art. And not all of the art in the museum was massive, intricate paintings. There were a lot of small works and rough sketches. But it's still amazing to see such a graphic representation of just how much art one man made.

We spent a few hours walking from room to room, admiring the artwork. There were so many people in the museum that I couldn't stop and stare at every painting that I wanted to for as long as I wanted to. But I still got to see so many wonderful pieces of art, and I so enjoyed visiting the museum. It was well worth the wait in line, and, although I was more than happy to get free admission, the price of the tickets definitely would have been worth it as well.

After leaving the museum, the six of us went in search of dinner. We wanted to find tapas—it was about time to have some traditional Spanish fare. We stopped at a few places, but kept walking until we found somewhere that wasn't so expensive. We stopped in a church along the way, just to check out the interior, before continuing on our way. The tapas place we ended up eating at wasn't far from the museum, and was just around the corner from the church we'd stopped at. We all ordered a few tapas to split, and then we got one main dish of rice and sea food.

Hanging out at the shore in Barcelona at night!

I'd never had tapas before, but I like the concept of getting several small dishes to make up a meal. I also enjoyed the seafood more than I'd expected. I've never really had mussels or clams before then, so I was a little surprised by just how much I liked it. After getting our tapas for dinner, we headed back to the hostel to change before going to the beach. We'd heard there would be fireworks to celebrate a saint's feast day that night, and the beach would be the best place to be. So to the beach we went!

We learned that night that when the Spanish said there'd be fireworks, they didn't mean well-organized fireworks displays set off by professionals. What they really meant was that there would be people at the beach setting off their own fireworks, usually by sticking them in the sand or a bottle half-buried in sand and lighting them with the lit butts of their cigarettes. It was chaos, absolute chaos. And it was fun. We sat on the beach and talked and laughed and jumped whenever a firework went off too near us. It was just another one of those things where we didn't have to do anything, we simply had to enjoy the moment.

Beach Day in Barcelona

After getting up early that morning, we took a bus from the train station to the airport. After about a two hour train ride, the six of us were in Barcelona—well, on the outskirts of Barcelona anyway. It took a forty-five minute bus ride from the airport to actually get to the city. And then it took another half hour on the metro before we finally got to our hostel in the city. It was too early to check into our rooms, so the hostel gave us a key to the luggage room and we dropped our bags and changed into swimsuits before heading to the beach.

A lovely view of the Mediterranean Sea from our beach spot in Barcelona!

We were all looking forward to just spending some time laying out on the beach. It was our first day of vacation, and all of us just wanted to take it easy. We were to spend three days in Barcelona, so there was plenty of time to go visit museums and famous sites, so spending a few hours lounging on the beach was the perfect way to start vacation. I mostly just laid out on my towel, enjoying feeling the sun. I did go into the water once—but it was too cold for me, so I only walked in up to my knees, and then I hurried back to my cozy spot on the sand.

Me and Miranda at the top of the rope
pyrmaid. Thanks to Sydney for the picture!

After a few hours, we decided to walk a ways down the boardwalk before heading back to the hostel, finding a place to eat dinner, and then going out for the night. It was a pleasant walk—if we hadn't been surrounded by people that were, for the most part, speaking Spanish, I may have thought I was walking down the boardwalk in Jersey or somewhere else back home. I had to remind myself that I was in Barcelona, walking alongside the Mediterranean Sea. Halfway down the boardwalk, we spotted a small playground that had a jungle gym and a pyramid-type structure made of ropes. Miranda and I decided that we just had to climb it.

 No one else wanted to climb it with us, so they waited on the boardwalk, and Miranda and I hurried over to the little playground. Miranda climbed the rope structure faster than I did, but I got up to the top soon after. It was a cool feeling, sitting atop a rope pyramid on the shore, looking out at the ocean. It was a little harder for me to get down from the rope structure, but I made it (with only a few rope burns). Then we headed further down the boardwalk and, eventually, made our way to the nearest metro station. The rest of the night was quiet—just dinner and a trip to the bar. Half our group went out clubbing, but Miranda, Sophie and I headed back to the hostel—we wanted a bit of an earlier night.

The Beginning of Break

After a wonderful trip to Rome, I only had to get through five more days of classes (technically four, since Friday was going to literally be a picnic), and then I could finally start my one-week break. I couldn't wait for that break. The situation with my host family had deteriorated gradually over the course of that first month, and I suspected that Astrid and I both needed some space and our time apart. I know I did. I may make a post at some point in the future to talk more about the issues I had with Astrid, but for now, I'd rather focus on the good things. That being, that Friday, I was getting on a train to Paris so that I could go on vacation to Barcelona, Porto, and Amsterdam with Miranda, Katie, and a few more people from the Penn State group: Sydney, Marissa, and Sophie.

Class dragged by so slowly as I waited anxiously for it to be time to go. On the one hand, I wanted nothing more than to be out of Astrid's house and on my way to vacation. But at the same time, all the Arkansas kids were studying in Besancon for one month, instead of two. Which meant that when I got back from vacation, Kim, Adriana, and Daniel would no longer be in class with me. I knew I'd still have Brittany (thank goodness!!), but it was so sad to say good-bye to everyone. We had one last night at the bar—Madigan's, as per usual—and said our good-byes there. (The next morning, I had to explain to my host mother that I can't just take a high-speed train from Philly to Arkansas to visit them, which is why saying good-bye was so hard).

My A2.2 class. I can't remember everyone's names, but the girl in black next to me is Brittany (I'm the one that's third from the left) and the girl next to her is Adriana. My teacher, Olivier, is the guy in the blue shirt. Credit for this photo goes to Kim (the girl in the light blue dress, who was also from Arkansas).

But, I made it through that last night at the bar, and through the class picnic on Friday, and then, finally, it was time for vacation! I headed to Sophie's house first, since we were splitting the cost of a checked bag. I brought my stuff and packed it into the bag we were sharing, and then we left her house and went to the train station together. We met everyone at the platform, and then, at long last, we were on the train headed to Paris. I was so happy to be on vacation. It couldn't have come soon enough (for me, at least).

The train ride to Paris was uneventful, and then we just had to make it from Gare du Lyon to Gare du Nord to catch a train from Paris to Beauvais. We were flying with Ryanair, Europe's discount airline, and they fly out of Beauvais, which is about an hour outside of Paris, so we'd booked a hotel there for the night to make it easier to get to the airport the next morning (not to mention it was cheaper to get a hotel room in Beauvais than in Paris). The train ride from Paris to Beauvais was a cramped ride on a train car that was very reminiscent of a typical bus (with the small addition of a bathroom in the middle of the car).

We got to Beauvais, and then realized that although Katie had the address of the hotel we were going to, none of us had directions on how to get there from the train station. After trying to figure out just by looking at the maps in the station, Sydney finally went and asked at the information desk. And that's how we found out that our hotel was right across the street. It was actually the first building that you would see upon exiting the train station. So it was even easier to get there than we'd expected! I was the one that had booked the hotel, and it was a 'family' room, meant for two adults and three kids (under the age of 12). Since there were six of us, all well over 12, we decided that just three of us would go in and we'd take all the luggage with us, and then the other three could come in later. Sophie, Sydney, and I checked in and then had Marissa, Katie, and Miranda come up the other set of stairs to the room.

The six of us hung out in the room for a while and then went to find dinner. The day that we were leaving was the beginning of the weekend of the summer solstice, so there were festivals being set up all over France. We found a restaurant in one of the big open squares and ate there, listening to the music blaring from whatever band was playing as part of the festival. There was a group playing at one end of the square, and at the other end there was a stage from which a group of women took turns leading a whole bunch of people in Zumba.

Even though Beauvais wasn't even really part of our vacation, it was a good way to spend a night in France before heading out for a vacation across Europe. We got to just relax, have dinner, and hang out in the room and figure out some of the things we wanted to do over vacation. Then, the next morning, we got up ridiculously early (5:00AM, to be precise) to catch a bus to the airport to head to Barcelona!

A Visit to Ancient Rome

The next day, after sleeping in for a bit, Charissa and I checked out of our hostel, checked our bags at the train station, and headed to the Colosseum. We took the metro from Termini to the Colosseum stop—it only took about fifteen minutes tops, and then, we were there. We left the metro station as usual, but as we were leaving the train station, the Colosseum itself gradually came into view. That moment literally took my breath away. It was such an unbelievable site, the way the Colosseum seemed to just pop up in front of us.

What's believed to be old apartments at the Roman Forum.

Charissa suggested that we go to the Roman Forum first, since the ticket would get us in at both the Forum and the Colosseum and the line at the Forum would be far shorter. So we headed a little ways down the street to the entrance to the Roman Forum and waited in line there. It took maybe half an hour for us to get our tickets, and while we waited, Charissa told me more about the architectural background of the Forum. (Charissa, I feel like I should have taken notes on what you were talking about, there was so much info and I wish I remembered more of it!)

Finally, we got into the Forum and started walking around, admiring the remaining structures. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the fact that the Forum is hundreds and hundreds of years old (I think at least a few hundred B.C.), and that Romans walked on the same paths that I was walking. Those are some of my favorite moments of traveling—that moment when you suddenly realize that you're standing on the exact spot that someone from history once stood. Maybe not someone famous, but it's still astounding to think that Romans conducted the mundance aspects of daily life in the very area where I was strolling about, snapping pictures with my digital camera.

The Colloseum, as seen from the end of the Roman Forum closest to this ancient arena.

The inside of the Colosseum, seen from the first level.

Charissa and I walked from one end of the forum to the other, taking a few short breaks to hang out in the shade (it was hot!). When we reached the other end of the forum, the Colosseum was back in view. Although I'd seen it already; walked alongside it on the way to the forum, it was still astounding. Here was a building that had served as the central entertainment facility for thousands of people, hundreds and hundreds of years ago. After walking through the forum, Charissa and I crossed the street to go see the Colosseum. I was quite grateful that we'd bought our tickets at the forum rather than the Colosseum—as we walked straight past the very long line of people waiting to get their tickets to go in.

When we walked through the archway into the inside of the Colosseum, I had to stop for a second, just to take it in. There were tourists everywhere, snapping pictures of the Colosseum and of themselves as everyone walked around the pathway that circled the arena. Charissa and I walked most of the way around the first level of the Colosseum before we headed up to the second level to get a little bit different perspective of the place. As we walked, I tried to imagine what it must have been like in the

past—thousands of people crowded into the stands, watching as gladiators dueled or shows were put on or executions carried out.

The top edge and what would have been the arena's seats.

After visiting the Colosseum, Charissa and I headed back to Roma Termini, the main train station. Charissa's boyfriend, Alex, was coming in for the day, so we were meeting him there. We had to wait a little while for his train to come in, so we got gelato at one of the shops in the station. Gelato is basically the Italian version of ice cream, and Charissa said I had to try some before I left. It is very similar to ice cream, but it's not exactly the same. It's delicious! I loved it, and really just wanted to get some more. Thankfully, Alex's train came in before I indulged in more gelato.

We met Alex at the end of the platform, and then Charissa called her teacher to ask if he had any suggestions for something we could go see, since I only had a few hours left before I had to catch the train back to Besancon. He suggested San Pietro in Vincoli (St. Peter in Chains) since it wasn't far from the train station and was worth the visit. So we again hopped on the metro and headed out to see San Pietro in Vincoli. It took a little bit of time to figure out the map and find our way to the church, but it worked out perfectly—we got there just in time for the church to open back up. Like almost everything else in Italy, the church had closed for a lunch break.

Michaelangelo's statue of Moses. 

Thankfully, there was a bit of a crowd there, gathered and waiting for the church to open back up. This was lucky for me, since I was wearing shorter shorts and a tank top—San Pietro had the same dress code as the Basilica, though it wasn't quite as strictly enforced. I managed to slip inside without being noticed by the guard checking people over as they entered. The church itself wasn't overly impressive, but there were two things that stood out: first, there was an enormous statue at the front-right hand side of the church. This statue was in fact a Michaelangelo carving of Moses, which serves as the tomb of Pope Julius II. I guess we've come to expect it from Michaelangelo, but the realism of the statue astounded me.

The other noteworthy aspect of San Pietro in Vincoli was, of course, the chains of St. Peter that are kept there. The church itself was originally built to house the chains used on St. Peter while he was in Jerusalem. When a pope compared those chains to the chains used on St. Peter during his final imprisonment in Rome, the two chains supposedly fused together, forming the one set of chains that are now displayed at San Pietro in Vincoli. Many of the religious sites we visited in Rome made me think of my high school—coming from a catholic high school, I couldn't help but think how many of my teachers would have loved to see this famous religious sites and relics.

After visiting San Pietro, Charissa, Alex, and I headed back to Roma Termini so that Charissa and I could pick up our bags and I could catch my train to France. First though, I had to stop at the bookstore to pick up a copy of a Harry Potter book in Italian. I love collecting the books in foreign languages, and

The chains of St. Peter at San Pietro in Vincoli.

I just knew that I had to get an Italian version before I left. (Now, at the end of my trip, I've collected a few German books, two French books, one Italian book, and one Portugese book. And of course, my own collection of American editions back home).

 The three of us hung out at the train station for a little while, since there was still some time to kill before I had to get on the train. It was nice to just sit and talk—although I still had to laugh about the fact that we were doing so in a train station in Rome, when we live so close to each other back home! Eventually, the time came when I had to go find my seat on the train. I said my goodbyes to Charissa and Alex and then went down the platform to find my spot. It was time to go back to France.

Sightseeing in Rome

The hole at the top of the dome of the Pantheon. I love the idea of the nondenominational worship building.

Our next stop was the Pantheon, which is one of Charissa's favorite buildings in Rome. It was built as a non-denominational temple; a place meant for all religions to be able to worship freely. But, the church had come in and kind of made it their own. The Pantheon had once been coated in gold as well, but all the gold was stripped from the building long ago. I thought the Pantheon was really, really cool, although I don't think I was quite as taken with it as Charissa was. She told me how the dome is just a free-standing concrete dome. It had to be made in pieces, but it was put together without any metal frameworks or anything. The dome's open at the top, letting sunlight spill in and light up the center of the Pantheon. I thought there would be glass or something over the top, but Charissa said that's not the case; the first time she visited, it had just rained, and there was a puddle of water in the center, roped off so that people wouldn't slip.

The gorgeously carved Trevi Fountain--which apparently
earns the city of Rome about 3000 euro every day.

Very near to the Pantheon was Trevi Fountain, the one where visitors always throw a coin over their shoulder into the fountain, and supposedly that guarantees that you'll someday return to the city (I certainly hope so!). The crowd around the fountain was just as bad as you'd expect from such a famous site—I gave Charissa my camera and wormed my way through the crowd to the edge of the fountain. It took a minute to find a spot where I could sit on the fountain and throw my coin, but I did. I tossed my coin, and Charissa took a few pictures for me. The Trevi Fountain was definitely a place that I never could have imagined I'd be able to visit—so much of Rome felt almost like a dream, it was just so surreal to actually be there.

Our last tourist stop of the day was at the Spanish Steps. These we kind of came across almost by accident while we were walking through the city after visiting the fountain. I'd heard of the Spanish Steps, although it's not something that immediately pops to mind when I think of Rome. Apparently its the one place in Rome where you can always find people hanging out, and tourists stop there all the time. Again, I took some pictures, and we continued on our way.

Me tossing my coin into Trevi Fountain.

After visiting the steps, we headed back towards our hostel. Charissa's friends were coming into Rome for the night, so we were going to go back to the hostel, change into nicer clothes for the night, and then go to the train station to meet them. Once back at the laundromat where we'd left our bags, we got the keys to the hostel—we hadn't been able to check in when we'd gotten there that morning, but know we could get settled into the room. The guy who worked at the laundromat got us our bags, and then we left the laundromat, went halfway down the street to an apartment building, and found our hostel on the third floor. Online, the hostel was called Nice Place Hostel, but the name of hostel on the door was Sweet Place. Charissa and I laughed about that—it sounded like a name that they would have chosen after hearing an English speaker say that something was “sweet!”

I was just glad we were finally checked into the hostel. I'd never stayed at a hostel that was run through a laundromat, and I was seriously creeped out—again, I'm so glad Charissa was with me, or I would've thought I was done for. There was another girl that was in our hostel room as well, and she was from the US as well. We talked for a bit, and then Charissa and I went to go grab dinner before her friends arrived. We ended up just going straight to the train station and eating at a restaurant there. I had pasta—another meal that I figured I had to have at some point while visiting Italy. For a train station cafeteria, it was decent pasta.

The (very crowded) Spanish Steps.

After a little bit of waiting, Charissa's friends arrived. There were four of them, and our group of six went to go find somewhere to spend the night. We headed to a hotel on the other side of town to meet a friend of Charissa's friend to join them in a pub crawl. We did find his friend, but they wanted to take taxis, and we preferred the metro, so we split up, and never actually found them again. Charissa's friends wanted to find something to eat, so we wandered around by the Spanish Steps and ended up at Burger King (it was either that or McDonald's, pretty much). Ironically, the 'french' fries in Italy were better than any I'd had in France yet.

 Finally, Charissa and I split from her friends and headed back to the hostel. I was tired from the overnight train and a full day of touring the city, and her friends were spending the whole night in Rome before returning to the city where they were studying. So Charissa and I headed back to our shady little hostel, where I passed out almost as soon as I'd laid down.

A Visit to Vatican City

After two weeks in France, I headed to Italy to meet up with my friend Charissa. She's from the US as well—in fact, we went to high school together and we literally live five minutes apart. But, since she was studying in Italy, and I in France, naturally we made plans to meet in Rome for a weekend. I took an overnight train from Dijon to Rome. It was the second time I'd been on an overnight train, but this time I had a bed instead of a reclining seat. It was an experience that I would recommend everyone have at least once. There's nothing quite like sharing a tiny train compartment with two to five other people, sleeping on a little cot where you can't even sit upright without hitting you head.

I shared my compartment with two other women, and since I was the youngest person in the compartment, I figured it'd be best if I just took the top cot. Just to be safe though, I asked, in French, if there was one for me, and one of the women said, in French, that it didn't matter, I could have whichever I wanted. Then she switched to Italian with the other woman in the compartment. When the conductor came by to take our passports, he spoke to me in English, and the same woman asked, in perfect English, if I preferred to speak French or English. I was a little jealous that she slipped so easily between three languages while I was struggling just to learn a second!

So I took the top bunk and slept very, very well. It was such an easy ride—more comfortable than I would have expected. It was a bit of a challenge to get ready the next morning, given the confines of the space, but I managed it alright. And then, finally, we arrived at Roma Termini. I grabbed my bag and hurried off the train, eager ot meet up with Charissa and start visiting this famous city. Thankfully, Charissa had arrived at the train station earlier than I had, so she was waiting for me at the end of my platform. I don't know if we ever would have found each other otherwise!

The first thing we did was buy a map so we could figure out where to go. The hostel wasn't far from

St. Peter's Square and St. Peter's Basilica!!

the train station, but I didn't have the hostel information for it. I'd tried to download the information to my nook the night before, but my host mother disconnected the wifi before I was able too, so I didn't even have the name of the place. Thankfully, Charissa had the address, so we were able to find the right street. We found where the hostel should have been, but no hostel. A man who worked in a laundromat asked what we were looking for, and when we showed him the address, he directed us to another laundromat around the corner.

More than a little confused, Charissa and I followed this man's instructions to the other laundromat. There, we found the man in charge of our hostel. We checked in, paid for the room, and left our bags in the luggage room (and by that I mean we left them in a room in the basement of the laundromat. I was so glad Charissa was with me—I'd never stayed at a hostel run out of a laundromat and I was half expecting the worst scenario to play out that day in Rome.

With our bags left at the hostel, Charissa and I started our tour of the city. Thankfully for me, Charissa had visited Rome with her school group, so she already knew her way around, which meant that I didn't have to try to figure out how on earth the metro system worked. I almost always get lost when I first get to a new city (even an English-speaking city like London)! Our first stop of the day was Vatican City to see St. Peter's Square and the Basilica. If I'd had more time in Rome, we could have visited the museum and seen the Sistine Chapel as well, but with only two days to spend in Rome, I wanted to see as much as I possibly could.

La Pieta, which is now behind glass because apparently
someone tried to shoot it earlier this year.

On our way to St. Peter's Square, we stopped so that Charissa could buy a skirt and shawl to cover her legs and shoulders. I never knew it, but apparently a lot of the churches in Rome have a dress code—legs should be covered to below the knee and shoulders had to be covered. Once Charissa had her new clothes, we continued down the road towards the square. When we emerged into the square, I was a little stunned. It was one of those moments where, had someone told me years ago that I would be in Vatican City, with a friend from high school, I would have just laughed at them. And yet here I stood, admiring St. Peter's Basilica, listening to Charissa tell me about the architecture behind the building, as well as what she'd learned about the history of it from her visit with her school group.

St. Peter's Baldachin--hopefully no real lizards!

I took a few pictures in the square, and then we joined the line to get into the Basilica. They are serious about the dress code—there were actually people standing at a few points in line, looking everyone over to make sure that they were dressed appropriately enough to enter the Basilica. Charissa and both passed through without any problem, and then we were free to wander through the Basilica. The inside of the Basilica was absolutely incredible. I could honestly stay and admire the art and the architecture for hours. There's so much to see, I didn't even know where to look. The first thing I went to see inside the Basilica was La Pieta. It's just as stunning and realistic in person as it seems in all the pictures I've seen.

The whole time I was walking around the Basilica, I couldn't stop thinking how crazy it was that I was there, in Vatican City, actually walking through St. Peter's Basilica. Charissa explained more about the architectural history behind the building as we walked through—how difficult it was to find an architect that agreed with the Church's vision, and vice versa; how at the Baldachin at the front of the church, there was a myth that the architect had used real lizards and poured bronze over them, rather than carving them himself. The entire tour was fascinating, and I was so grateful that Charissa knew so much about the building that she could share. The only thing in the entire Basilica that I really did not enjoy was the bodies of the two popes that were preserved and kept on display. I understand why some people would want to visit the bodies of these famed religious leaders, but for me, it was just far too creepy.

One of the guards at St. Peter's Basilica.

We didn't stay in the Basilica for too long; there was so much that I still wanted to see and do before I had to leave the next day. After we left the Basilica, I saw the Vatican guards for the first time. They have the most ridiculous outfits I've ever seen, but somehow it doesn't look completely laughable! They have red, blue, and yellow striped suits reminiscent of the stereotypical joker's outfits. The more redeeming factors of their outfits would be the swords that hang from their belts, which are just a simple brown, and their hats—black berets. It was still one of the funniest outfits I've ever seen, especially for such official positions.

After visiting Vatican City, Charissa and I went to find lunch. I don't know if we ate inside Vatican City or if the restaurant we ended up at was back in Italy; there aren't really any signs to show where one country ends and another begins. But we found a little place that had decently priced pizza, and I figured I had to have pizza at least once while I was in Italy! Charissa also told me about the fountains that you can find all over Rome. There's a bunch of fountains scattered throughout the city and you can fill up your water bottles or just drink straight from the fountain itself. I filled up my water bottle, but I refrained from drinking straight from the fountain—for the time being.

Visiting the Lake

The view of the lake and surrounding mountains, which I was lucky enough to enjoy during lunch on the lake.

One of the flowers that grew next to the
stairwell alongside the vineyards by the lake.

The day after our ill-fated hike at Cret du Locle, Jacques, Astrid, Pearl and I drove back to Switzerland to visit what I think was Lac de Neuchatel (Neuchatel Lake). We wouldn't be doing hiking like we'd tried to do at Cret du Locle, just a nice walk around the lake edge. It was a perfect day to visit the lake—there were only a few white, fluffy clouds in an otherwise clear blue sky. The lake was almost as blue as the sky, and there were sailboats drifting lazily across the water. There's not too much to describe about the walk. We walked along a trail that traced the edge of the lake, so we saw a gradually shifting viewpoint of the lake as we went.

We stopped for lunch at a little inlet that jutted out into the lake. There was a restaurant further back on the shore, but since we'd packed a lunch, we sat on a little dock that was just big enough for the four of us to set up our little picnic. It was such a nice lunch—enjoying sandwiches on the edge of the water, just watching the boats drift across the lake, and listening to Astrid's continuous stream of conversation.

After lunch, we continued around the edge of the lake. Before we'd stopped for lunch, we had mainly been walking through the outskirts of a city. There had been houses and little cafes and even some apartment buildings—very much a suburban setting. But after lunch, we had the lake on our left and vineyards and wide-open fields on our right. At one point, we veered off the main trail to walk up a thin set of stairs in one of the vineyards. It was a quick walk up the stairs, and once we'd reached the top, we were rewarded with an incredible view.

Another view of the lake from our walk around the edge.

 The lake was our only stop that day, since Pearl had class at 8:30 the next morning. Jacques walked back to get the car and pick us up, and then we headed back to their house. Astrid and Jacques taught Pearl and I a French card game. It was a fun game that I unfortunately can not for the life of me remember how to play...and it doesn't help that their deck of cards is different than a typical American deck. Then we had dinner, and soon enough, it was time to go. Pearl, Astrid, and I got back into Astrid's car and headed back to Besancon so Pearl and I could get back to our five-hours a day classes.