Happy Holidays

 

Dan and I arrived safely in NYC last night. We're planning on spending the next week with our family and friends, catching up on what's happened in the last eleven months and enjoying a well-earned rest. That means my next post won't be until January 2nd, 2012 - but fear not! I've got plenty o' plans for new, equally awesome content to throw atchya. So I'll see you kids next year. 

Bye! 

2011: A Year-End Review

A tranquil scene in Copenhagen, Denmark.

Oh 2011, I hardly knew ye. I knew the sh!t out of 2011. Biblically. (That means we had sex. Which we didn't, because you can't have sex with time. Though that could totally be a bitchin' idea for the next Christopher Nolan movie. I could be a screenwriter. I'm feeling sassy today; just go with it. It's probably because I've been reading a bit too much Full House Reviewed which, if you grew up in the '80s/early '90s, you will probably find more hilarious than you can stand. I actually laughed until I cried. Anyway!) I thought it was about time for a year-end review considering 2012 will be upon us in, like, two minutes. Also, I really like making lists. Here's a list for you to read . . . hooray!

5 Favorite Cities:
1. Prague, Czech Republic
2. Paris, France
3. Berlin, Germany

4. Amsterdam, Netherlands
5. Budapest, Hungary

5 Favorite Countries:
1. France
2. Germany
3. Netherlands

4. Hungary
5. Denmark
Psst! If you want to read more about those cities or countries, try typing them into the search bar on the right side. Over there!  ☞

Mon Dieu! Fromage! At the market in Aix-en-Provence, France.

5 Favorite Eats:

1. Anything from le grande marché in Aix-en-Provence, France: fruits, vegetables, cheese, saucisson.
2. Belgian waffles with all the toppings (chocolate syrup, whipped cream, strawberries).
3. Typical Dutch breakfast: a slice of bread with Speculaas and chocolate sprinkles. (P.S. Speculaas is a spread made out of ginger cookies with the consistency of peanut butter, but without the stick-to-your-mouthiness factor. It is, in a word, FREAKINGAMAZING.)
4. Classic Polish pierogi ruskie.
5. Glühwein from German, Austrian, and Hungarian Christmas markets. 

5 Things I Learned (About Myself & Other Things):

1. I can write every day and never be sick of it - in fact, the more I write, the more I want to write. This is how I know that I love what I do.
2. Wheeled suitcases beat duffle bags any day of the week.
3. Unlearning is just as important as learning.
4. Cooking a meal together is the best icebreaker there is. Plus, it's less expensive and more intimate than eating at a restaurant.
5. I can do a lot more with a lot less.

Dan hanging around in BEAR-lin. Fancy jacket not required.

Blog Highlights:

1. Reading your (often hilarious and insightful) comments. It makes my heart happier than I can tell you - so please keep commenting!
2. Hitting new milestones: going from 2,000 monthly readers to 12,000 in just a few short months.
3. Lonely Planet tweeting my "Essential Tips for Traveling as a Couple" as a featured article. (You can read it here.)

4. Being solicited for work by other travel site owners and editors thanks to articles they've seen here.
5. Responding to emails from readers asking how they, too, can live a location-independent lifestyle. It makes me feel sort of famous. (P.S. Look for a post on how to do just that coming soon!)

10 Best Moments of 2011:
1. Having the courage to leave a comfortable life in New York City for a more unstable - but infinitely more exciting - life of travel and writing.
2. Starting this blog and building it into a community. Thank you for reading; I promise to keep bringing you the best stories from life on the road!
3. Crossing the Charles Bridge in Prague at dusk: stunningly beautiful and incredibly romantic.
4. Climbing to the top of Mount Sainte Victoire in Aix-en-Provence. In Keds.
5. Taking a 4-hour long cycling trip around Paris to photograph the most unforgettable sights: the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Avenue des Champs-Élysées, the Seine . . . 

6. Exploring Teufelsberg Tower in Berlin for the first time and having an out-of-body experience.
7. Feeding a piglet from a bottle as a farm volunteer in Groningen, Netherlands. I ❤  baby animals.
8. Taking part in the hours-long feast that was our international dinner party.
9. Relaxing in the thermal baths of Budapest. I'M STILL NOT OVER IT.
10. Making friends around the world. It feels kind of pretentious pretty amazing to be able to say we have real friends in so many different countries now. Thank you to everyone who hosted us, and especially those of you who did so more than once (extra thanks to Daniel & Jenny, Stefan, Samer, and Greg! Danke and merci!).

Just your friendly neighborhood travel blogger.

5 Goals for 2012:

1. Write more. At the moment, I write at least 2-3 hours daily. I want to double that.
2. Make more time to be in nature: hiking, climbing, swimming in the ocean, you know. Stuff like that.
3. Read more. It was a shocking blow how little I was able to read this year. Books are heavy and take up precious suitcase space, which is why I often resorted to exchanging them at secondhand shops even though it hurts my feelings to see them go.
4. Be better at keeping in touch with friends and family. Write letters, send postcards.
5. Continue to diligently work on having the best relationship and best life possible.

3 Reasons Why I'm Looking Forward to 2012:
1. I'm going to get married! :-D
2. I'm going to keep traveling! :-D
3. I'm going to keep blogging! :-D

Do you have any goals for 2012? 

Or do you think the world will end because the Mayan calendar says so?

Milan: Kinda Sucky

The Gothic architecture of Milan's cathedral. One of the few pretty sights.

So, let's be honest for a second, okay? No matter who you are, no matter how open your mind is, you will not love every single city/town/village/hamlet/igloo that you visit. I'm sorry (no I'm not), but that's the truth. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a big fat liar and I give you permission to fork their lawn. That being said, I also have a higher moral purpose to this story (I recently met the Pope): I like to have an honest discourse with my readers. I like to keep this shiz REAL. Because if a city/town/village/hamlet/igloo is supposed to be BEAUTIFUL and AMAZING and the FASHION CAPITAL OF THE WORLD, well, I am going to expect to be impressed. And despite New Yorkers' reputation for jadedness, I can still ooh and ahh with the best of them. So I like to tell you the truth BECAUSE I DON'T THINK A LOT OF PEOPLE DO THAT NOWADAYS. And the truth is this: MILAN IS KINDA SUCKY.

Does that sound harsh? Meh. We (that's you and me) have been lied to about Milan. We have been told that Milan is a beautiful ancient city, filled with sparkling boutiques and stylish people. And the boutiques ARE beautiful - but they're few and far between, and only open for about five hours each day. Amazing architecture? Well, if you like gray and crumbling, then this is your bag baby! Stylish people? Sure, once in a blue - LIKE EVERY OTHER CITY IN THE WORLD. 

This is what every single street in Milan looks like.

You know what, though? Those things weren't even so bad. I mean, if that was it, I probably would have been a little disappointed, sure, but I wouldn't think the city was such a dump (which it is). No, no, no. The real reason is because, in Milan, scammers are EVERYWHERE. Example #1: Dan and I stayed at Hostel Mido - an okay hostel that was a 35-minute walk from the center (P.S. it is nigh-impossible to find a decently-located hostel in Milan. That 35-minute walk was the shortest of any we found.). We had to extend our stay in Milan (against our will) because we were having trouble finding a CS host - thanks to two consecutive holidays in Italy, most people either already had guests in their homes or would be out of town. 

Anyway, we asked the guy who had checked us in on our first day if we could extend our stay by two days. He looked at us, looked at his friend, looked at his joint (WTF?!), then told us it would be "at minimum" 16 € per person - TWICE the amount we originally paid because "it was really crowded this weekend." We told him we would think about it, then went up to our room and waited for the other manager to return. The other manager (who was a bit older, and showed his maturity by not doing illegal drugs in front of his place of business) told us they had plenty of room considering NINE people had just cancelled for that weekend (lucky sons of bitches), and we would just pay the same price we were originally charged. Uh huh. Needless to say, we avoided the stupid "manager" who tried to scam us for the rest of the weekend, and made sure we carried every single valuable thing with us each day, lest they suddenly go "missing."

Weird, slightly sinister motorbike. In Milan.

WTF moment #2: Dan and I are hungry, having been searching for some spark of light in this dull, dull city for nearly six hours. We see a pizzeria. We read the menu. We see that personal-sized Margherita pizzas are 6 Euro each. We see that they "do not charge gratuity." We order, then eat, said pizzas. We go to the register to pay for our meal (and just FYI, this was not a fancy restaurant - think card tables and folding chairs, with packets of ketchup and salt served with our pizzas) and find out there is a 5 € "sit down fee." Five euros. Just to sit down in their crappy-ass chair. I was thisclose to having some words with the cashier, but then I remembered that it would do me absolutely no good to get in a fight in a foreign country. Besides, I'm little. 

Also, there is a terrible problem with homelessness in Milan. At first, I found it heartbreaking to see so many (especially elderly) people lying on curbs and in doorways. Then I realized that many of them are simply panhandling swindlers, no different from squeegee men or those guys that pop out of the woodwork on rainy days to sell you shitty umbrellas for $10. And let me tell you, they are AGGRESSIVE. They have no problem shaking their can of coins in your face, grabbing your elbow, and rapping their cane to get your attention. Dan and I were once approached no less than nine times in three hours - the final straw was while we were on the train leaving Milan. A woman walked down the aisles of the train, passing out small paper squares. The square had a message typed in both Italian and English. It read:

POOR WITH TWO CHILD HOMELESS AND 

JOBLESS HELP MY FAMILY WITH FEW MONEY 

FOR GOD'S SAKE 

THANKS MAY GOD PROTECT YOU

Then she walked back up the aisles, collecting the squares and, presumably, a few euros. She was clean and, while not "well-dressed," was in clothing that was mostly unremarkable - just jeans and a sweater and leather shoes. Oh, and a Louis Vuitton handbag. (Probably fake, but still.)

I ate this cannoli and felt slightly better about life. 

The thing is, I probably wouldn't be so pissed off about all this if the city didn't have this reputation for being so amazing - I was expecting the Italian version of Paris or London, cities that live up to the expectations set upon them. Instead I got to spend a week hoping to not get scammed or pickpocketed - I even caught one young guy (about 18 years old) trying to put his hand into my bag! While I was wearing it! I could feel his presence behind me, so I swung my bag around in front of me, turned around, and gave him a look of death such that he scurried away. If he had been a bit older or more well-practiced or if I were not the cynical city ninja that I am can be, my wallet would DEFINITELY have been stolen. 

So go ahead, go to Milan. For like, half an hour. I really don't recommend it. But, you know, do what you want. 

P.S. This post is in no way intended to be rude to the Italian people. I like Italians - they're fun and funny and quick to laugh (our sweet CS host Francesca was the only bright spot during our stay). I also like several Italian cities (Rome and Venice, to be specific), and plan on visiting more of this lovely country in the future. I just think Milan is a real dump, and I don't plan on going back there unless I am being paid to do so. And even then . . . eh.

The Bearable Lightness of Packing

It's been a while since I posted a weekend video or playlist (mostly because I am sick to death of everything that is on my iPod and haven't had the time to seek out new music lately. Le sigh.), but when I came upon this little gem, I just had to post it here. (I first saw this video on Prêt à Voyager, the blog of Paris-based graphic designer Anne Ditmeyer, who is also a contributing editor for Design*Sponge. Thanks for posting this, Anne!) It's entitled "The Bearable Lightness of Packing," and Diane von Furstenberg shares her opinions on living a nomadic life, accompanied by a sweet little tune and beautiful illustrations. The last two lines (delivered in her unmistakeably sexy, husky voice) are some of the best thoughts on travel and lifestyle that I've heard in a long, long time.


Psst! Remember my article for Matador Network on the myths and realities of NYC nightlife? Well it's only 10 "likes" away from 100 . . . which means it's only 10 "likes" away from a writer's bonus for yours truly! Help a sistah out? Click the link here, then click the Facebook "like" button below the title! Muchas gracias amigos! 

Spotted By Locals: Copenhagen

Colorful houses in Copenhagen.

OMG IT'S ONLY EIGHT DAYS 'TIL CHRISTMAS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! SANTAAAAA! (Sometimes we just need to let the child within go . . . out.) 

Speaking of the child within, I did a little reminiscing on my own childhood, and how the stories of Hans Christian Andersen inspired me to dream of a trip to Denmark, a dream which was fulfilled back in October. I've just resumed my guest posting series over at Spotted By Locals, and of course I chose to write about one of my favorite cities that we've visited so far: Copenhagen! Here's a little snippet to whet your whistle: 

Like most children, I grew up reading the stories of Hans Christian Andersen and watching films of those fairy tales come to life. Visiting Denmark - and Copenhagen especially - became a particular yet peculiar dream for me: I felt drawn to it thanks to his remarkable works, yet I knew little of his hometown’s history or culture. I expected Copenhagen to feel like a sunny winter morning when snow has fallen overnight: cold and clean, beautiful and fresh. It did - which is why nine days was hardly enough to explore this wonderful town.

Fancy reading the whole piece? Clickity click on "Getting Cozy in Copenhagen" for more of my thoughts and impressions on this lovely Scandinavian city, as well as a few of the best spots we found there! 

Venice at Night: A Photo Essay

We left Ljubljana in the late afternoon, sharing a ride with a Slovenian girl to Trieste, then hopping a train to Venice, where we would spend the night before a second train ride to Milan in the morning. 

We arrived in Venice at 10:00 in the evening; the sun was long gone and so were the crowds. We were lucky to have chosen a hostel directly across from the Station Central - literally a five-minute walk, though it did take us across a rather steep bridge where an entrepreneurial young man was offering to take our baggage across for the sum of 10 euro. We politely declined. 

After depositing our bags in the room, we decided to take a walk around the city. I had been to Venice once before, for three days in the autumn of 2005, but Dan had never been and I didn't want him to miss the romantic views. 

Venice, while undeniably beautiful, is an eerie, lonely place at night. It wasn't even midnight and while we expected the shops to be shuttered, even the restauranteurs had already swept the floors and stacked the dishes and gone home. I found myself wondering what Venetians do at night: sit around a table with a deck of cards? Perhaps they play video poker? Or maybe they just watch television . . . like everyone else. Whatever they do, they weren't doing it outside.

I thought I remembered how to get to the famous St. Mark's Square, but I did not. We lost ourselves instead in the labyrinth of alleyways and canals, which have always struck me as dangerous, given that there are no protections against falling in. One could easily step close to the edge, hoping to get a better picture maybe, looking through a lens rather than at one’s own precarious footing, and tumble into the waters that will drown this city in a thousand years or so. 

We became tired of the cold and decided to return to the hostel. We walked down a street so narrow my extended arms could touch the houses on both sides. A man in a fedora looked at us with mistrust, then attended to a set of keys that seemed to refuse manipulation. Our own steps on the cobblestone seemed louder than they should have been, and when a group of young Italians scrambled into a main square, their usually lyrical language sounded brash and flamboyant.

I felt like I was waiting for something, but didn’t know what. I still do.

Metelkova: Art, Culture, Beer

Metelkova in Ljubljana, Slovenia.

Ladies and gentlemen of the audience: we are gathered here today to kill time at work talk about Ljubljana, Slovenia. No, not the whole city. We don't have that much time. (Well, I do, but that's beside the point. Want to get coffee later? No? No takers? Call me!) What we do have time for, though, is a word or two on alternative living, and how art, culture, revolution, and beer come together to form the unconventional social center that is Metelkova. 

Metelkova (pronunciation: meh-TEL-ko-vah), is a former military barracks right in the heart of Ljubljana that was once the headquarters for the Yugoslav National Army. Squatters took over in the early 1990s after the army withdrew from the site, transforming the cluster of buildings from the sad, gray bastions of bureaucracy that they were into a colorful rogue hippie commune, charmingly titled "The Autonomous Culture Zone." Fun, right? (Truth be told, I'll never be down with patchwork pants, but Lord love me a hippie. They're kindly folk. Good music, too.)

A close-up of the tile work that covers the exterior.

The squatters created alternative living spaces within these buildings, and also organized concerts, readings, art exhibitions, and other events. The City of Ljubljana, however, didn't want people to have fun and thought a parking lot would be better. (WTF, right?!) Since the occupants refused to leave, the city cut off the water and electricity and sent wrecking balls through the exteriors (!).

Of course, this only brought the community closer together and they fought to keep Metelkova alive - which they did, and have been successfully doing for almost twenty years now. The center stills hosts live music shows, and there are several art galleries and artist studios, and a bar with wonderfully cheap beer as well. They've even turned a former prison into a hostel! Heck yeah! (Clickity click here for the hostel's website.)

The main entrance is covered in graffiti and stretchy goblin creatures.  

Metelkova reminded me right away of Copenhagen's Christiania: another former military barracks turned autonomous hippie commune. Christiania has been in operation since 1971, though there is huge difference between the two: Christiania has a "Green Light District" where residents sell and trade cannabis - not only to each other, but to the masses of tourists as well. Because possession and usage of marijuana is illegal in Denmark, the authorities have been in negotiations with residents to close this area of the commune. This is also why I don't have any photos of Christiania to share - there are enormous signs with "NO PHOTOS!" posted all over the place, so as not to provide evidence of the illicit activities.

Truth be told, I preferred Metelkova to Christiania for precisely this reason: despite the strange and sometimes creepy artwork that covers the exteriors of Metelkova (see the stretchy goblin photo above), the atmosphere is generally friendly and welcoming. Christiania's Pusher Street (the main drag of the Green Light District) gives the whole thing a sort of sordid flavor, and it doesn't help that so many of the sellers give the impression of being rather unsavory characters. Although I adore the idea and spirit of the project, it's not the sort of place where I would want to be alone after dark. But Metelkova? I wouldn't have any problem going there in the evening by myself.

Dan and Bri having a look-see (that rhymes!) at some of the art covering the walls.

Overall, both Metelkova and Christiania are worth visiting, though I personally think Metelkova has the  sort of relaxed, easygoing atmosphere that anyone would enjoy - I did. Plus, there were free pretzels. Hooray!

St. Nicholas and Friends

Crowds gathered for the Krampus parade. Ljubljana, Slovenia.

I almost entitled this post "Krampus, And Other Freaky Sh!t" but then I considered the children in the audience. I CAN BE CONSIDERATE LIKE THAT. Anyway, as the new title suggests, we're here to talk about Saint Nicholas, and no I don't mean Santa Claus as my American friends know it, which is as a fat man in a jolly suit. No, no, no. Here in Europe, Santa Claus/Saint Nicholas traditions vary HUGELY from country to country and region to region, and Dan and I were lucky enough to chance upon one of the weirdest ones: the Krampus parade.

What the fudge is a Krampus, you say? Well I'll tell you! Krampus is a horned devil creature who is covered in fur and has a hideous long red tongue. He wears cowbells on his behind which shall henceforth be referred to as "ass cans" (thank you Bri, for that lovely addition to my travel lexicon). Sometimes he is draped in chains, which he snaps and shakes at children to scare the bejesus out of them because they're naughty and deserve it.

"When the Krampus finds a particularly naughty child, it stuffs the child in its sack and carries the frightened thing away to its lair, presumably to devour for its Christmas dinner." Thanks, Wikipedia!

Three Krampusse and an angel.

Anyway, so on the evening of December 5th, Dan, myself, and our couchsurfing host Bri were coming back from a castle hike/bike ride around the city and we stopped in the center of the Old Town because we saw hundreds of families gathering around the main square. What the hell? we said unto ourselves. Then, lo and behold . . . Krampus! Dozens of them! Growling and clawing and generally harassing this poor blonde girl who was bold (stupid?) enough to stamp her foot at one of them. This foolish move brought upon her a rain of horrible nuggies, the likes of which I have never seen before and am unlikely to ever see again. I hid behind Dan because the Krampusse (that's the pluralized form) are, like, actually kind of scary. I did pop out long enough to take this video, which is of very poor quality, though you can hear some of the ass cans shaking and children howling:

There were also devils in red suits, but they were much less frightening because their "devil suits" were more like red onesies, and a lot of them were drinking beer and looking kind of bored. A while later, a man in white robes and a funny hat arrived on a four-wheeler which was being driven by a man with no shirt on. The pope? No! It was Saint Nicholas, surrounded by angels. (The shirtless driver was NOT an angel. He had leather pants on and some body paint. I'm pretty sure he just came from an S&M club. Not judging, just sayin'.) Later the angels sang and gave candies to the children, and then the parade was over. We had some mulled wine and went home.

St. Nicholas and his devil attendants, before the shirtless man drove the PopeMobile.

And that's the story of Krampus. Does anyone know of any other weird/freaky/funny holiday traditions around the world?

Introduction to Ljubljana, sLOVEnia

Just a pretty cobblestone street in Ljubljana.

Ljubljana (say it with me now: Loob-lee-AH-na. Dan and I practiced using the Google Translate voice before we arrived so that we didn't sound like a bunch of schmucks. Prior to that I was saying it as Le-joob-le-jah-na - which would have given the locals immediate reason to make fun of the idiot tourist. Thankfully, Slovenians also turn out to be really friendly people.) was a last-minute addition to our European itinerary. The idea of visiting Slovenia had been floating around in my head since springtime, and for no other reason aside from its very . . . well . . . foreignness, I suppose. It was a place I literally knew nothing about, and had so few expectations that it truly didn't matter whether we loved it or hated it. We went just to go.

The city is separated into two parts by the Ljubljanica River.

And go we did. We couchsurfed with a fellow American, which was odd and wonderful at the same time.  (Odd because here we are on a completely different continent in a completely different culture and we're with someone who is just like us, and wonderful because here we are on a completely different continent in a completely different culture and we're with someone who is just like us. You feel me? After almost eleven months of travel, it was strangely comforting to be able to crack jokes and be absolutely certain that nothing will be lost in translation or, worse, be accidentally offensive. This also reaffirmed for me that Americans DO have a culture and a particular way of doing things that is unique to us as a country, despite how the media tells us constantly that we don't. But that's a post for another day. Back to Slovenia!)

View over the city from the tallest building in Ljubljana, "The Skyscraper." It's 13 stories.

Slovenia is a place that feels squarely in the middle of things. The architecture has both Italian and Slavic influences, as does their language, which sounds at once both guttural and sing-songy. Ljubljana has a population of only 250,000 people, which is about how many people live on my block in NYC. Straight up. Actually, the entire country has only 2 million people or so. With such small populations, this means that the streets are remarkably clean (I didn't see a speck of litter ANYWHERE) and the government does a decent job of taking care of its people (homelessness isn't really a problem here like it is in other countries). Even the little bits of graffiti here and there ("Bomb the city!") seemed more like the outbursts of angsty teenagers than by people who actually have a political agenda to promote.


The thing about Slovenia is that it seems remarkably tranquil - so unlike what one might expect of a country with former Communist Socialist* connections. Entering the city feels like opening a plain wooden box that's hiding precious jewels inside. Ljubljana is sophisticated but not pretentious, and is so perfectly situated that neither the coast nor the mountains are more than an hour's drive away. And, on a sunny day, you just might be able to see both from the top of the castle.


*Thanks for the correction, Bri!

Day Tripping in Vienna

The carbon copy train tickets from Budapest to Vienna.

Here's something I love about Europe: if you want to "get away" for the weekend, all you have to do is take a train somewhere, and within three hours you can be immersed in an entirely differently culture with an entirely different language and entirely different food, architecture, customs - you name it. It's not like living in New York where, for example, I can drive (well, not me. I hate driving. I have the kind of maniacal, red-faced and foul-mouthed road-rage that only a subway riding city dweller can muster. Dan does all the driving, though I'm also a terrible backseat driver. [i.e. Dan comes to a stop so an old lady can cross the street. Me: OH MY GOD. YOU ALMOST JUST KILLED THAT OLD LADY. NOW WHO WILL HAND OUT WERTHER'S CANDY IN ZIPLOC BAGS TO HER GRANDCHILDREN?!] Really, I just shouldn't be allowed in cars.) six hours in any direction and still be in my own state. BO-RING!

The Christmas Market in Vienna.

We hopped a train from Budapest to Vienna, though we spent only three days there - a remarkably short time which might have seemed longer if it wasn't for Dan's performance that was scheduled for the evening of our arrival, and an early afternoon train back to Budapest on our last day. With such a short amount of time for sightseeing, I always think it's best to just go straight to the city center and branch out from there. Luckily for us, the Christmas Market was a-bustlin' which meant that I could feed my mulled wine addiction indulge in a few holiday treats!

Holiday pretzels! Get your holiday pretzels here!

The fat kid within me was mostly interested in the food stands, though I was able to restrain myself until we arrived at the nearby Landtmann Café, a Viennese institution. The café is something of a legend: it was opened in 1873 to great fanfare and thanks to its placement right next to the Burgtheater, it became known as a hotspot for actors and other creative types (Marlene Dietrich was a regular!). Though its interiors were mostly destroyed during World War II, the Landtmann has since been restored to its original splendor as "Vienna's most elegant café." It's worth a trip just for the atmosphere: men in sportcoats and ladies with upswept hair chatter over coffee, and dozens of cakes are shelved neatly behind gilded glass. Dan and I treated ourselves to mulled wine (yes, again) and we each tried a different local specialty: he had the apple strudel and I had the apple torte. Yum!

My half-eaten apple torte. I'm sorry; I couldn't wait. 

The End. (Because I couldn't think of a better ending.)

5 Things to Know Before Going to Budapest

Some things we learn the hard way (like NOT drinking the tap water in Poland). Some things we learn the easy way (like reading a travel blogger's tips and tricks before visiting a destination). I learned the following five things the hard way, so that you can learn them the easy way. You're welcome. You should also know that I accept puppies, kittens, cupcakes, and confetti as payment for my services. I love them. And you. And cheap holidays to Goa. Read on . . .

A view over the Danube from Buda Castle.

1. The best time to visit Budapest is during spring or summer.
Sometimes it pays to travel during the off-season - flights and hotel prices are cheaper, popular attractions are less crowded, yada yada yada. But you know what? I am sitting here bundled in a wool sweater and blanket as I write this, cursing the freezing temperatures and 4:00 PM sunset as all my friends back home write Facebook statuses like "OMG. Another 65° day in NYC? WTF?" WTF indeed, my friend.

It becomes really difficult to sightsee when your toes are numb and you can't feel your face - Dan and I spend half of our time outside just ducking into cafés to warm up. Also, unless you're the kind of person who is up and at 'em before 8:00 AM (I'm not), 3 or 4 hours really isn't enough daylight to spend wandering the city each day - there is A LOT to see here. A LOT. Which brings me to my next tip . . .

2. Buy the Budapest Card. 
So I'm not the biggest fan of buying any discount card that is directed toward tourists - usually the "discounts" are nominal (5% off a 10€ entrance fee? Oh goodie!) and the attractions offered are hardly worth seeing. But the Budapest Card? UH-MAZING! This card gets you 20-50% off of hundreds of sights, excursions, events, restaurants, and more. Not only that, but flashing your Budapest Card at any public transport station gets you a free ride!

My only caveat is this: you have to be willing to pack a lot into each day in order to get the most of this deal. The 72-hour card costs 8300 forints, which is about 25€ or $37 before you've even done anything. If you are on a strict backpacker's budget, or have a longer stay and are willing to pick and choose what you see while here, you might want to consider whether it really is valuable to you. Just sayin'.

Dolls in classic, folksy Hungarian dress.

3. A visit to Budapest is not complete without going to one of the thermal baths.
Straight up: YOU HAVE NEVER FELT AS GOOD AS YOU DID AFTER VISITING THE THERMAL BATHS. Oh wait, that was me. Seriously though, Hungarians are very proud of their mineral-rich waters and the reason is simple: the buildings are beautiful, the water is soothing, and you can't help but feel happy in such a place. Anyone coming to this city would be remiss if they skipped this. If you didn't catch my post on our experience at Saint Luke's Bath House, read it here.

4. Use the trams and underground system to get around.
Okay, so you decided not to buy the Budapest Card. No worries: public transport in Budapest is still remarkably cheap (the city itself is a fantastic destination for backpackers or people on a budget) and is an even better deal if you buy a booklet of 10 tickets. It costs 2280 forints for the booklet, which is only about 7.60€ or $11, and you can use these tickets on both the trams and subway system.

Here's an extra little tip: because their system is a bit, ahem, "vintage" (which I love but lots of people would probably find annoying) there aren't really outdoor ticket machines at the tram stops. You have to look for the nearest underground station, where you will find a person manning the ticket booth. Imagine?! You have to talk to a REAL, LIVE PERSON to get something?! It's like 1983 all over again.

Colorful cars and colorful homes!

(Also: don't use taxis while you're here. The trams run all night, so even if you're coming out of the bar plastered at 4:00 AM, you're better off taking public transport - Hungarians often refer to taxi drivers as "jackals" because they overcharge by double or triple the appropriate amount!)

5. Can't find the crosswalk? Look for the stairs.
This confused the bejesus out of me for, like, 3 days straight: I could not, for the life of me, understand how or where Hungarians were crossing the street. There was not a crosswalk to be found. Cars would zoom and whiz by and, crazed New Yorker that I am, I had no qualms about simply flinging myself into the road to jaywalk with abandon. SHOW NO FEAR.

And then I realized: they don't really do the whole crosswalk thing here. Instead, they have stairs at every corner which lead to underground shopping plazas and, of course, to the other side of the road. Easy! Now I skip down the stairs and sing La La La!

That's all for now, friends! Don't forget to tweet me! And like my page! Bye!

P.S. Unlike Poland, the water here is fresh and potable. Before pouring himself a glass of tap water, Dan asked our host if it was okay to drink. The answer? "Yes. It is very fine. Very fine." And you know what? It was.

The Thermal Baths of Budapest

Photo via Flickr.

QUESTION: ARE YOU AFRAID OF OLD MEN WEARING SPEEDOS? Answer: Of course you are. Everyone is. But that shouldn't stop you from enjoying what has easily been my favorite attraction here in Hungary: the thermal baths of Budapest.

After a particularly Palinka-drenched evening (Hey-Zeus Christo that stuff is deadly: a very smooth and slightly - ever so slightly - fruity liquor, usually produced in the Hungarian countryside by people who know what they're doing), our couchsurfing host took Dan and myself to recuperate in a nearby bath house, known only to locals: Saint Luke's. 

Before I regale you with the miraculous hangover cure known only as "Fun Swimmie Time," I shall furnish you with a little history: Saint Luke's has been in operation since the 12th century, when knights of the Order of Saint John settled in the area to make use of the thermal hot springs as a means of curing the sick. The baths stayed in operation throughout the Turkish occupation, though the energy of the springs was used mainly for grinding wheat and producing gunpowder. 

In 1884, Fülöp Palotay (don't ask me how to pronounce it) purchased the baths from the government and so began a series of transformations: the baths became world-famous for their therapeutic properties, and patients who had come and been healed donated marble plaques that were displayed in the bath's courtyard as a sign of their thanks - all of which you can still see today.* LET'S SKIP FORWARD A FEW HUNDRED YEARS, OKAY?! We don't have all day.

Photo via Flickr. 

Nowadays, Saint Luke's has much more than a simple soaking tub and drinking fountain - in fact, we spent nearly three hours there and I felt like I could have stayed longer. There is a dry sauna, a wet steam room, a cold plunge pool (extremely delightful when you're feeling overheated), multiple thermal baths all set to different temperatures, and (my favorite) the "Fancy Pool": a rather large (not gigantic, but definitely "I wish this was in my backyard" big) swimming pool equipped with a whirling corridor (WHIRLPOOL! :-D), underwater effervescence (BUBBLES! :-D), neck shower (WATERFALL! :-D), as well as a water beam back massage hidden in the seat banks (WATER BEAM BACK MASSAGE HIDDEN IN THE SEAT BANKS! :-D). 

Saint Luke's is not the most well-known of Budapest's many bath houses: the Szechenyi and Gellert are the most popular with tourists, and though they're a little more upscale, that also means they're a little more expensive - and definitely more crowded. I really enjoyed the relaxed, easygoing feeling of Saint Luke's: Hungarians of every age and body type were soaking in the mineral-rich baths, and all were mercifully clothed in swimsuits. (I'm shy, okay?) The heated outdoor "Fancy Pool" felt especially luxurious: nothing beats floating in blissfully warm waters, watching the sun set behind exquisite Art Nouveau architecture, letting the steam cloud your vision - it all lends itself to a feeling of extraordinary well-being.

Photo via Flickr.

At one point, after doggy-paddling my way around the whirlpool, I turned to Dan and said, "I think this is the best thing we've done in all of Europe." All of Europe! He replied that it was just the toxins escaping my body and that I had no idea what I was saying. But it was true: at that moment I felt more perfectly content with myself and the world than at any other time in recent memory. 

And you know what else? The next day my skin looked GREAT. 

*The historical information quoted herein was taken from budapestgyogyfurdoi.hu - an excellent resource for discovering more about Saint Luke's, as well as other thermal bath houses of Budapest.