I thought my Madrid traveling horror story was going to be enough of a lesson for a lifetime. I'm afraid not. Turns out you need at lease two. And if it is in a 3 month time span... even better. But I'll start from the very beginning..
Thursday, 6:00 pm:
Obviously I'm late meeting everyone at McDonalds to catch the bus. The bus which I had the tickets for. The bus that also wasn't coming since I booked the Pisa to Florence, not Florence to Pisa. So... train to Pisa airport it is. Late and obviously overpacked. Little did I know that when Ryanair said 1 piece of carry-on luggage, they meant one piece of luggage. One rolly bag. Not a rolly bag and a personal handbag (aka purse). Nope, just a rolly bag. They won't even let you carry a wallet with you. Good job Lizz. Next plan of action? Put on as many layers of clothing as possible to be able to fit my large purse that is already stuffed. Result: Lizz wearing 7 layers of sweaters and my great friend the Guatemalan wearing my other 3 sweaters. So not a great start but we finally got to Edinburgh. Not only do they speak American but they are actually friendly. They acknowledged our presence, smiled at us, said hello. Went above and beyond the standards of friendliness. Even on their best days, Italians are not any where nearly as nice. Which I never understood, you live in one of the most beautiful countries on the planet .. why aren't you happy? Maybe it's all of the tourists? Or those god damn Americans. Besides the point, Edinburgh was exactly what I needed. Fall foliage, American speaking people, bag pipes, kilts, and above all else: Starbucks. Prior to our immaculate confrontation with this Scottish Starbucks, I had not had one of my white chocolate mochas in over 2 months- probably even more than 2 months since Maine doesn't even have Starbucks. Boy was I one happy chick. After sipping on my cup of heaven and walking around the great city we ended our walking tour with a man in a kilt playing folk songs on his set of bag pipes. I'm not sure you could get more Scottish. Maybe a Scottish Terrier?? It was a great day of Scottish heritage, Edinburgh Castle, and a tour of a Whiskey Factory. Day one of eleven, complete.Saturday, 7:30ish pm:
Back to the Edinburgh Airport. Back to layering myself with 7 layers. But this time I needed to hand some off to my other great friend Edith in addition to the Guat. No clue how I happened to acquire an extra sweater between the 30 hours of the last Ryanair flight?! Nonetheless, we got to Dublin and finally got to our hostel where we collapsed. 5 hours later at 6 in the morning we were up and at em heading off to a bus ride through the Irish countryside. Well turns out the sun doesn't really rise until around 8:30 so until that point the Irish countryside was pitch black. And when I say the sun doesn't rise until 8:30, I obviously mean that's when it gets light out since the sun never really completely shines. Nonetheless, it was a gorgeous ride. We stopped in the little city of Limerick to snap some shots of King John's Castle along the River Shannon, remains of Viking settlement. Our Irish tour guide was quite hilarious and made a great comment about these Viking raids, "Ya know, the Vikings would get set on a piece of land and be determined. Screaming 'Rape! Pillage! Rape! Pillage!' But when they saw them Irish blokes they adapted that famous chant to 'Pilllaagggee!'" Guess we didn't have any Irish on the bus at the time. Made it to the Cliffs of Moher after passing many Irish wolves and elephants (sheep and cows). Wow. That was pretty feckin craic as the Irish would say. We saw the cave where Harry Potter was filmed. You know that one book where Dumbledore brings Harry in that cave to get the first horcrux?! Yeah that one. Real cool. Probably the greenest grass I have ever seen. The fuzziest cows on the greenest grass on the coolest cliffs in the prettiest place in Ireland.
Seeing as how it was Halloween weekend we had to go out that night. But we figured we would be okay if we didn't splurge on costumes. First mistake. We were the ones that looked like idiots. After enough "uhhh what are you supposed to be?" comments.. we decided stupid americans would give them enough satisfaction. Extremely horrifying. Unfortunately we were not in Italy where they would have legitimately been terrorized of american tourists (no stupid necessary as that just comes with the territory). Anyways, we of course did not spend a long time walking around getting scrutinized and popped into a pub where we got cider and brews and listened to live Irish folk music from the locals. New day came and we hit up the Guinness factory (who goes to Dublin and doesn't tour the Guinness factory??) I mean I don't like beer, especially Guinness, but we had to obviously go. And after learning about it for 2 hours I felt like I had to take advantage of the free sample. By the time Laura and Edie had gone back for their 'third' sample Cami and I finished our first. Cami brilliantly got an entire pint up in the Gravity Bar. I conveniently lost my ticket, so I was unable to get my free pint. Oh well. Sorry Uncle Lance. The rest of the day was spent wondering the streets of Dublin. Spent yet another embarrassing night out dressed up as stupid americans and then headed back to the hostal for a good 4 hour shut eye before Isabelle and I left for Brussels. Flying Aerlingus was much more lax and much more accommodating for young travelers. I hope you are reading this Ryanair- take note on the accommodating part, a word that ceases to exist in your vocabulary!! 
Monday, 10:00 am: HALLOWEEN!
Probably the best Halloween I have ever had. Although it would have been a much more enjoyable holiday had I actually had a costume that I could go collect chocolate and candy in- I promise you all that I will never outgrow the act of trick-or-treating. I consider myself an opportunist, and I will take full advantage of the fact that there is one night a year when free candy is given to those who dress up in costumes. Nonetheless, it was a great holiday. We initially thought that our luck of friendliness would change once we got to Belgium seeing as how the French are not known for going out of their way to extend any sort of cheerfulness. Wrong! They were just as nice as the Scottish and the Irish! Imagine that! A very nice gentlemen got us to the city center from the airport, and along the way gave a very detailed tour of the city. Once we walked up the stairs from the metro we realized the city was a lot bigger than we had anticipated. It is the capital of the European Union for goodness sake! I decided to try my luck and ask a garbage man directions to the Royal Palace. Luck is right! He put his little wheeling waste basket and broom to the side and started us showing us the general direction. 20 minutes later we entered the Royal Palace Square. He brought us the entire way!! And we got to hear his life story and a complete, detailed family history. Originally from Brussels, he was born in Turkey where he later came back to be with his family. Very nice gentleman. And quite the world traveller for a public waste official salary! I loved Brussels! But I think my stomach is thanking me for not staying an hour longer. I of course got my Belgian waffle... oh my god was it heavenly. And I managed to avoid most of the chocolate and cookie shops we walked past, only stopping in two. And only making one purchase of Belgian butter cookies that reminded of Christmas cookies with Nani. I planned on buying a truffle for dessert after lunch but the very generous lady said "on the house" and smiled. Made my day!
Our day in Brussels would not have been complete without a traditional Brussel style dinner on the row of restaurants which I would like to call the Vegas strip. A little street of boutiquey restaurants with gentleman persuading you to the extent of offering a back massage during dinner. I kid you not one guy offered free champagne and a back massage! We quickly realized that every restaurant offered the exact same menu, so decided to go with the one that gave us the best deals. We stayed away from the creep offering massages and went with the guys who enticed us with a bottle of champagne and a complimentary bread basket. A 3 course meal for 12 euros.. that is my kind of meal. Tomato bisque for starters, mussels for main dish and finished it off with yet another Belgian waffle drizzled in chocolate sauce and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Mussels in Brussels are apparently a very Belgian cuisine.
I then realized that we had about 25 minutes to make it back to the airport where we were meeting Cami and Laura to catch our train to Maastricht. And had absolutely no idea how to get there. Perfect!We asked a taxi driver, who just pointed. Once we got to a dead end which was obviously not Station Centrale we asked a group of boys nearby, "uh, I think it might be that way. Oh no, maybe 2 blocks to the left?" No help. No idea how we finally got there, but got on a train heading for the airport. Running up the escalators the first thing I saw were a pair of pink-sequined bunny ears complete with pink fur. Yup! I spotted the Guat!
Tuesday, 10:15 am:
Maastricht was great. One of my favorite cities in Europe I've been to so far. It might have been the fact that we weren't racing around to go from monument to landmark. We went mapless for the first time, getting lost through the tiny, practically empty winding streets through all of the fall foliage. They had bagels with real cream cheese, legitimate salads with actual salad dressing and parks with grass and orange, yellow, and red colored trees. The parks were even complete with farm animals! They had sheep, chickens, some type of antelope species, and tons of ducks and geese. I really liked the mallards. Have you ever looked really closely at a mallard? They are so cool. Their feathers and colors, their beaks? Pretty neat if I'd say so myself. Fascinating creatures.
Going out at night was also a blast. Ran into a
bunch of DUers at the local bar The Shamrock aka The Shammy. Got a fab tour of
the city at night as Hank meandered us around the streets on our way to the
bar. He has a very unique sense of direction… A very very different experience
than any other which I of course was loathing. Wait for it.. we went on a bike ride to Belgium. We rented
bikes and decided to take an afternoon bike ride through the farms of
Maastricht to the lush greenery of Belgium. I adapted to the bike riding fairly
quickly, and I mean you have to give a girl a break when she has not been on
one for quite some time. Alright this wasn’t too bad I hadn’t run into anything
so far or caused any extreme accidents involving other pedestrians. I decided
to move on to the next level and take pictures with my little dinky camera of
the scenery. Check. Laura? “Hey Laura look at me!”
“FLABBENGHSTHCHFLUGHERSTEIDCHDEIDEN!!!!” came from behind me, my first instinct
is to turn because I obviously don’t know what
Flabbenghsthchflughersteichdeiden translates to in English but it didn’t seem
to be pretty… CRASH! And here it is
in sequence: Old man on bike runs into Lizz on bike + Lizz attempts to dive out
of the way to the sidewalk… forgetting she’s on bike + Bike follows Lizz onto
the sidewalk+ Old man yells again and rides away= absolutely everyone in the
street staring at Lizz and bike oh and Laura peeing her pants just up ahead. Once
I actually adjusted to the bike and decided that taking pictures was a bit more
ahead of my bike riding skills, we took our ride through farm land, past the
little Dutch style houses complete with donkeys in the backyard. Forget dogs
when you can get a donkey!
Oh in addition to the little biking incident, I
managed to stumble upon the coolest
hotel I have ever stumbled upon. The hotel itself is in what used to be an
ancient renaissance church that was remodeled on the inside. Very chic and
completely different than what you were expecting to see from the outside. Note
to self: add to bucket list of hotels to stay in. But the StayOk hostel was
also very nice. I wish I could tell you if the free breakfast was any good but
we never made it in time as it closed by 10 in the morning… drag.
So we dropped off our bikes and got ready for a
night on the town. After a cheap bite of a burger and a “snack ball” which is
essentially just fried meatball doused with a side of mayonnaise, we were off!
Somewhere between the hours of 2 and 3 in the morning we made it back to our
hostel. We decided to go out with a bang as our last night in Maastricht ended
with a 6 am train ride to Brussels… why sleep??! We made it to the train
station and boared the train headed for Brussels like the zombies we never
dressed up as for Halloween. This is where my story veers right at the
crossroads of rich with happiness and too broke to shed a tear. Tears don’t
sell to well on ebay as I’m sure you know. An unfortunate series of events...
Thursday. November 3. 2011. Morning time. Approximately 10 am.
(All the periods are to get you on the edge of your
seat in preparation for the dramatic turn). We arrive safely and on time to the
Brussels airport, which is conveniently, located 2 floors above the train
station in which we arrived. With 2 hours until boarding we were in no hurry as
we were still very zombie like. I even contemplated a Starbucks but resisted
all urge. As we were walking through the Brussels Airport we were casually
looking for the Ryanair desk to check in. Vueling, Aerlingus, United, easyJet,
Swiss, Austrian, BrusselsAir… “It seems like Ryanair is nonexistent in this
airport. Must be hiding”. “Let’s just ask the information desk so we can get to
the gate and just sit down” Cami suggested. Laura, Isabelle and I just
patiently wait for Cami to go ask, and as she walks back over to us I’m
thinking how much I want to go get a Starbucks and hope they have one on the
other side of security.. I hate it when airports put all the good stuff out
front and you are always hesitant to buy thinking it will be easier to get and
sit with next to your gate rather than chugging it before you go through the no
liquids policy of security. Okay back to the story…
Cami comes over and with a blank face, no
expression whatsoever says: We are in the wrong airport. Ryanair flies out of
the other airport in Brussels.
Our thoughts: Alright well lets just get there
soon!
Cami answering our thoughts before we speak them
aloud: the airport is over an hour and a half away. We will miss our flight by
the time we get there. There is no possible way to catch our flight.
Our thoughts: shit. (and Cami’s too I’m sure)
My thoughts: Brussels is no longer my favorite city.
I try and remember my day in the city 3 days earlier and riding the public
transportation and recall seeing Brussels Airport as the final stop for nearly
every line we caught, not Brussels Airport Nord, not Brussels International
Airport, not Brussels Bigger Airport, nothing. Nothing to suggest that there
was two airports in this city. How the hell were we supposed to know that there
were two airports!?? Thanks a lot Brussels!
Recap:
We got up at insane hours in the morning but really
didn’t actually sleep since we were out all night= exhaustion.
Found out Ryanair only flies out of a baby airport
not even technically in the actual city of Brussels but an hour and a half
away= frustration
Then realizing we HAVE to make it back to Florence
by 6 pm that evening to catch our bus to Prague= stressed out of our minds.
Not a great combination to say the least. I
immediately got out my computer and set up camp. Opened the wireless server (6
euros for 30 minutes, ggreat). Skyscanner.com, flight from Brussels to Florence
this afternoon. Loading… cheapest flight available 650 euros… ok not so good.
Brussels to Pisa, even more expensive. Open Google maps for airports near
Brussels to fly out of, or airports near Florence to fly into. I try every combination, nothing under 350
euros. Ok think. Then I figure maybe flying directly into Prague and just
getting there a night early might be cheaper? NOT, reached quadruple digits. I
try Brussels to Florence for tomorrow, 89 euros… but that means we would miss
our bus to Prague, which was already paid for. Do we sacrifice a planned
weekend in Prague and waste the nonrefundable 250 euros needed to book it, or
do we spend a lot more to get to Prague?? So we had a group discussion and
decided that we were going to end up in Prague.
3 hours and 36 euros worth of wireless internet
later we had 3 overnight train tickets to Prague for a whopping total of 190
euros. Not too friendly to the bank account… how was that doing by the way? I
was not about to spend 6 more euros to find out.
At noon we start our sequence of 3 trains to Prague
and get to the Central Station where we set up camp yet again and prepare to
wait for our next train that would leave 5 hours later. And of course it costs
50 cents to use the bathroom. Realizing that we are all broke ass poor, we do
the budget style eating in the self-service cafeteria. Massive sandwich for
2,50? I’ll take it! This should last me until we get to Germany, hopefully…
Nope not going to cut it. But a box of crackers should do the trick. Laura and
Cami quickly caught on to my brilliant idea and went to the little supermarket
to pick up a box of their own. The guy at the register caught on and asked if
we were having a party. Laura explained that we had missed our flight so had to
take an overnight train. “Oh, yeah, only the locals really know about the 2
airports. So many people do the same thing”. Well, gee thanks. That makes me
feel just great. It still doesn’t help the fact that we just had to spend 190
euros.
 |
We hop on our train to Koln, Germany; which is only
about 3 hours. Get to Germany and have another 2 hours until our next train.
This time we go real cheap and set up camp in McDonalds. 45 minutes before our
train is supposed to arrive we go up to the track to ensure we will not miss
it. Not only were we not going to miss it, but nobody else did either since it
was over an hour and a half late. More great luck. We get to our cheap seats in
the seated sleeper cars squeezing 6 to a room as opposed to the beds provided
in the luxurious sleeper cars. After a marvelous nights sleep we arrive in
Praga! Finally! We look, feel and smell like shit and just cannot wait to get
to our hostel (which we have no idea as how to begin to find that) and shower. We
are in a completely foreign city, don’t even have an address of where our
hostel is, how to use the public transportation, who knows with our luck there
are probably 2 Pragues in the world and we trecked to the wrong one!
Hardly a short story but more a resemblance to a
Meave Binchy novel... but hey, I warned you!
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