The Brits do it Better!

I spent the past 4 days in London and my travel buddies can attest that I spent the entire time comparing London to Paris on a multitude of very sophisticated dimensions and the final verdict is London wins hands down.

The Tube vs. Le Metro
Flat out this is a tie. Both are very convenient. Both smell of urine. The only concession I will make is that the Tube had escalators which were quite lovely after a full day of walking. Also, the ads in the Tube are quite fun and semi-interactive which was cool! But neither of these items hardly warrant an entire point!
London 0, Paris 0

The Poop-o-meter
Even with a lot of print advertising in Paris (which is something to the effect of a beautiful beach scene with dog poop in the middle and a line that translates as “Doesn’t look good here? Why would it look good in our city?”), I often see this juxtaposed against a street full of dog poop. London, where I encountered just as many dogs as I have in Paris, had no dog crap, so this one goes to London.
London 1, Paris 0

People – aka niceness and service
Ok, so maybe I only spent 4 days in London, after all, after a week in Paris, I kept mentioning how nice everyone was here as well. Maybe it’s the fact that while my French isn’t awful and I can communicate what I need, I’m obviously fluent in English. But nevertheless, no matter how nice they are in Paris, I really do feel like I am constantly being done a favor when someone allows me to spend my euros in Paris, where-as in London, people actually seemed to act like if I was paying, they were going to be nice.
(Also, ahh the British men, maybe it’s the accents?)
London 2, Paris 0

Romance
So, first a note about my previous entry. My mother, having read my last entry, looked at me via our Skype video chat and said (sounding quite disappointed in her daughter) “You’re becoming a wee bit prudish…” Now, trust me, I’m no prude, but making out in a subway that stinks of urine… well that’s not something I would call romantic or quaint or, well, necessary. In fact, I would say it’s fairly icky and actually tacky. In fact, I ended the last entry with a few suggestions such as the river, the bridges, the gardens, and lo and behold, it seems that the Brits got the message. In fact, I saw many couples walking along the Thames holding hands, girls resting their heads on their partner’s shoulders and kissing. I saw men putting their arms around their ladies while sitting in a church and listening to beautiful choir music. I saw them strolling hand in hand through the parks.
But then I also saw far too many couples making out on the subway while taking the last (midnight) train home and I’m going to assume that this must be a European thing: making out with a wafting urine stench.
So while I wanted to give the Brits this point, I’m afraid I can’t.
London 2, Paris 0

Fashion
You’d think this would be hands down a win for the Parisian. Aren’t they the most stylish people in the world? Is this not the fashion capital of the world? Not from what I’ve seen. The French wear a lot of black. And I mean A LOT! They know what’s in and what’s not. Unfortunately they lack any semblance of creativity. What’s in now? Leggings. Long shirts/short dresses. Wide boots. Guess what every French woman wears? Leggings with a shirt and wide boots. Every. Single. French. Woman.
The Brits are also aware that this is the “in” thing right now. And a good percentage of women also wear this style. But they also dress it up with funky leggings or a funky dress or boots. The ones that don’t, wear fun dresses (i.e. not black) and fun shoes and tights and jackets. We briefly explored the shops which were full of fun styles that I would love to have had time to actually scoop up! Thankfully though, I didn’t have time and my suitcase was far too small so I made out with very little damage to my wallet with a funky aqua dress and funky ring and earrings. And now I’m debating a trip back to London just for some shopping.
Sorry Paris, you lose big on this one!
London 3, Paris 0

Tourist Attractions
The Palaces in London were nothing spectacular but the churches definitely were! However, I wasn’t able to actually go visit Westminster Abbey or St Paul’s since the entry fee for each was 15 friggen’ pounds! Are you kidding me??? Even a visit to the Louvre is less! Fifteen pounds?! That’s just outrageous beyond words. (Also if someone happens to see my jaw on the ground, outside of Westminster Abbey from when I saw the price, please return to owner).
London 3, Paris 1

Expenses
Every time we saw a price in London, we kept saying that if it was in dollars, it would be fine (not Westminster though, $15 would be too much still!) Apparently according to the latest rankings, Paris is the 13th most expensive city to live in and London is 16th (having been 3rd last year). I’m going to say that 3rd sounds a bit closer to the truth. Apartments in London are far more expensive from the prices I saw, the tube is 4 pounds per ride (or 5.60 for a day – compared with something around 1.20 euros per ride in Paris) and restaurants and plays and the like are just ridiculous. Simply put, London is far too expensive and I spent more on the trip to London (4.5 days, excluding lodging and transportation) than I did on Romania, Bulgaria and Budapest combined (and that was 12 days or so). There’s just no excuse to not pricing things reasonably! If it costs $50 in the US, there’s no reason to make it 50 pounds. None.
London 3, Paris 2

I don’t think I’d want to live in either city, though in London I simply wouldn’t be able to afford it, it seems. However, if I had to choose, I’d take London hands down as it felt like a cleaner, nicer, more hospitable city (oh and did I mention our amazing afternoon tea at the Dorchester? With scones and cucumber sandwiches and all?)

Slight Quip...

Ok so I know that Paris is the city of love, but I need to get a quip in here! Why does everyone feel like making out? And why do people feel the need to do this... everywhere?! And I do mean, everywhere.

Yesterday I went with a couple of girls from Kellogg to Provins where we took a tour of the underground storage system (essentially a long series of caves under the city that date back centuries). Romantic right? I didn't think so either, but that didn't stop a couple from making out, full force (with sound effects and all), in front of us, stopping the cave tour traffic.

And I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird... When I was on the train yesterday, it obviously seemed like my lucky day since when I sat down, a couple next to me decided to start making out. When they got off, the pair of German women that were sitting across from me started making fun of the couple's kissing technique and laughing!

Ok, you may chalk that one up to the fact that the women were German, and obviously, the French must think this is normal and that it's just us, Puritans, who shy away from PDA... right? Well, the first week I was here, during our lovely 50 minute train ride from Cergy, there was a teenage couple that joined us on the train and proceeded to go to town with their makeout session! And I do mean go to town, considering they did not come up for air for 5 minutes at a time (yes, I'm that petty, that I timed it). Now, don't get me wrong, love is a wonderful thing and all that, but really? On a train? Full force? (In this case, full force equating with - they may as well have been at home on a bed as that seemed to be the logical next step with how much into it they were!) But at one point, a lovely french woman, probably in her 20s got on, and found herself standing between the couple and myself. Well, let me tell you, she was as grossed out as I was, and she kept making eye contact with me and rolling her eyes, and checking on the teens every few minutes in hopes that they had stopped (but alas, no luck).

Really people, this is the city of love and maybe if you found better places to make out than the germ and urine-infested subway or the historical caves, I may let it pass! May I suggest the banks of the Seine (yes, I know it's cold out there, but if it's romantic in the summer months, it can be romantic now too), or the beautiful bridges, the movies, the gardens...? Surely these are all more romantic places than the subway.

Ok quipping over, back I go to enjoying the magnificence that is Paris.

Out and About..

Ahh what does a girl do after a long full week…. ok who am I kidding? I had two long and arduous days of school (which included listening to two lectures on luxury brands such as Dior, YSL and Chanel and what their ads meant and their history, plus a lecture on strategic alliances followed by a French class…), I know, this is hardly the hard life.

Yesterday, I finally made it to the gym (yes, I joined a gym in Paris, though I’m not sure what the purpose was since I’ve been walking 4-6 miles a day just exploring the city), but more importantly, I finally made it out to the Catacombs. Spooky stuff I must say! I can’t say that the bones were spooky, so much as the long and narrow and seemingly abandoned passageways with sparse lighting. You know what they say about people who are such scared-y cats, that they would be scared of their own shadows? Well, normally that’s not me. But, in the long passageways, I kept feeling like there was someone right behind me, and I kept seeing weird shadows that I was convinced were not mine, and with no one else around, it really was not helping my fragile mental state. Luckily, I managed to knock some sense into myself and realized that the weird shadows were a result of where I was in relation to the lamps, and thus were nothing to shriek about or run from. If you're laughing at me... well, you have every right!




After this, I found myself walking around Paris, and soon enough, I found myself near Notre Dame. I seem to have an affinity for it, since it’s now the third time I’ve been here during this stay! I walked around some more and by the time I got home, I was exhausted. In fact, at about 6pm, I could barely keep my eyes open and had to take a nap! I woke up around 8:30, puttered around as my friend Alex would say, and went back to sleep around midnight and happily slept until 9:30 am today.
Today, I had grand plans for the day. I would get up early, climb the Arc de Triomphe and then head to Musee de l’Orangerie or Louvre and then walk around the city some more (probably ending up at Notre Dame again…). That’s not quite how things ended up. I met up a couple of girls from school for lunch and then we decided we would head to the Fashion Museum. Well, unfortunately for us, the Fashion Museum was closed… indefinitely. However, we found ourselves right next to the Eiffel Tour so we went with it and proceeded to find as many beautiful vantage points as we could to take pictures! We then walked down to Pont Alexander III and then walked through Jardin des Tuileries where we sat around a fountain (or at least that’s what it is in the hot summer months) and planned on a picnic when it gets warm enough and then continued our walk to the Louvre. To cap off the day, we got to witness the Eiffel Tower all lit up and sparkly!





I know, it’s all very touristy, Notre Dame, Catacombs, Pont Alexander III and all of my gaping up at the Eiffel Tower, but you know what, that’s what I am… a tourist. I proudly look at the map in the subway to get my bearings, and do my best to reconcile the street names I see to what’s on my map and to add the cherry to the top of this ice cream sundae (or maybe macaroon since we are in Paris, afterall…) I hang my camera proudly around my neck and take zillions of pictures of everything in sight!

Tomorrow promises to be a rainy day (per the 3 different sites I need to consult in order to actually have an accurate assessment of the weather), so this tourist intends to finally make it to Musee de l’Orangerie and then maybe start the exploration of the Louvre.

Marrakech.

This week was a doozey! Since the weather was miserable in Paris last weekend, we started brainstorming warm (and cheap) destinations. At the top of the list was Marrakech and so we went with the mood and booked our tickets. Four girls in Marrakech. I had my trepidations but all in all the trip was a lot of fun!
The trip nearly started off with a bang (the bad type) when Olivia and I arrived at CDG and were told that the walkway to our terminal was closed (we assumed that this was due to a bomb scare as we were met with a dozen military guards, followed by the bomb squad). Interestingly enough though, we were easily able to walk into a different terminal to cross over to where we needed to go. After nearly a 2 hour delay, our adventure was finally underway. Let’s start with the fact that we stayed in a hostel. Now, I’ve never stayed in a hostel, so this was a first, and what a first! Thankfully, we paid for a transfer and guide to get us there because the streets in Marrakech do not lend themselves to easy navigation.
Every night we relaxed in the hostel and drank Moroccan tea (aka Moroccan whiskey) and smoked hookah with new friends. In the evenings we explored the nighttime Jemaa El Fna markets where we were met with many men trying to get us to dine in their markets. In the same respect, when we explored the souks in the daytime, all the shopkeepers were eager to get us (and every other tourist) in the door by greeting us in every language imaginable and promising us good prices and at times that everything was free (right….). During this trip I learned that I am absolutely awful at bargaining. And I really do mean AWFUL. Apparently, the rule used to be that whatever the shop keeper offered, the fair price was about half. Well, people caught on to that and the shopkeepers figured that if that’s what the tourists expected, why not quadruple the price or quintuple or… you get the picture! So, walking into the shops, where I had absolutely no idea what the fair price was, made haggling darn near impossible! I bought a necklace for 50 dirham (~7 dollars) for which I was told the price was 250 dirham, but I also bought a wooden box for 130 (~$18) which was offered for 180 at first (and apparently 150 was a fair price according to the hostel workers). So there’s absolutely no hard and fast rule. This made it very difficult because without a clear idea of a fair price the last thing I wanted to do was offend someone!
For the shopkeepers it’s all a game. They tell you the price, and in the same breath, ask you what you’d pay. For me, I would rather have seen a price tag and known how much something is so I could walk away or buy it based on a specified price. Another thing I learned was that it depends on who exactly you talk to. I walked into a store that had two gorgeous shirts that I wanted to buy and was told that each shirt was around 450 dirham, an outrageous price! I went back to the hostel and asked the manager (pictures in hand and all ;) ) how much I should pay and was told 350 for both would be a fine deal. I went back the following day and was told that the price was 450 for two (by a different man). Knowing that it should be worth 350, I offered 200 (assuming we would meet in the middle after a bit of discussion). Well this man called over the man I had talked to the day before who told me that it was actually 650 for both. At this point of course, I should have known that this negotiation would not go well, but I tried to get back to the fair price. Unfortunately, this man didn’t even want to negotiate and I left without the shirts. Thankfully though I found two gorgeous pairs of earrings to acquiesce my wallet.
Overall Marrakech was fun, though I don’t think I could have spent one more minute there. On the plane ride home I kept hearing the shopkeepers in my head, screaming “Hello miss” (in a lovely British accent), followed by “Hola” and several other greetings. I kept hearing the phrases, “How much you pay?”; “What’s your final price?”; “Wait, come back!”, and then of course there were some of the less than nice phrases when we refused to pay exorbitant prices or walk into shops (such as calling us Fish n Chips – not a term of endearment aimed at the British, or the heckles of how ugly or whatever we were). Now I know this is just how things are in Marrakech and how the shopkeepers behave, but really, after 2 and a half days, I hit a wall and I think had one more person said another word to me, I would have gone off on them.
As for the treasures of the city, I actually really enjoyed seeing the old El-Badi palace and the Saadian Tombs as well as the gardens and the overall architecture of the city. The Saadian Tombs had me in absolute awe of the amazing detail that went into the walls and decorations and the fact that it has survived from the 16th century. I also found the geography of Morocco quite fascinating as, somehow, I was not aware that the country had the 2nd highest peak in all of Africa and had beautifully snow covered mountains!
The trip was definitely a success. For anyone going, definitely drink as much of the tea as you can! Also, have as much fresh squeezed grapefruit and orange juice as you can in the plaza. Heed what your mother taught you, don’t talk to strangers as they will try to lead you to random shops and expect a tip for their effort. Another lesson that I learned, apparently what I always thought was tagine, is not really the true tagine. This would be fine and well, except that apparently (and unfortunately for me) I prefer faux-Tagine as presented in the US (dates, raisins, rice and all). Oh and since I’m commenting on the food, have as much eggplant (aubergines) as you can! I never knew how yummy it is!
Instead of parting thoughts, I’ll share a fun story (as told by our hostel manager): A German female tourist broke the zipper on her pants and wanted to get it repaired, and in order to explain herself to the shopkeepers, she kept pointing to her pants and saying “zep”. One male shopkeeper, upon seeing her gesture and say the word, didn’t miss a beat, cracked his knuckles and told her to “get in the back”. Well, apparently, “zep” refers to a certain male organ…

Monetizing..

Just a quick note. I decided to allow AdSpace to add ads to the blog - and if you click on them, I get $$ (not a lot of it by any means), but any that I raise will be donated to BADRAP (Bay Area Doglovers Responsible About Pitbulls) - as for those of you who know me (semi) well, you know that this is an organization that I absolutely love and have worked with in the past. So your clicks will help raise money for sweet pitbulls :)
Shameless plug:
http://www.badrap.org/rescue/index.html

Week 1

This week was full of lots of new things and accomplishments! I am taking 4 classes here at ESSEC (International Luxury Distribution, Alliances and Partnerships, Consumer Behavior and Luxury Brand Management). Needless to say, I (happily) found out that the classes are nothing like what I'm used to and should therefor, not infringe on my plans to explore the city and the continent :)

I was thoroughly amused that our orientation on Monday meant that I had to miss one of my classes, and on top of this, I learned that classes are canceled this coming Monday. So in other words, I won't have the first meeting for one of my classes for another week and a half. Actually, when we learned this, we all debated taking a last minute flight to Lisbon or Morocco, but alas, decided to get settled in Paris first (there are worse things afterall, than having to put off a trip and staying in Paris).

I do have, quite, the lovely schedule, with classes on Mondays and Tuesdays, only. Thus, while, I'm worn out on those days (since I have to wake up at 6:30am to get to Cergy by 9am, and return home around 5:30/6pm on these days), it does mean that I have a 5 day weekend. I swear, it's not really supposed to work like this. Not that I'm complaining. I have always wished that the work week were 2 days ;)

At this point I've seen Notre Dame (which was just as beautiful as I remember), checked out the crazy sales (and managed to refrain from buying yet another Dior bag), and trekked out to Versailles where I finally got to see the Hall of Mirrors. The last time I was in Paris, 5 years ago, the Hall of Mirrors was undergoing renovations and I was sorely disappointed by this fact. But there was a trade off, as this time the grounds were covered in snow and exploring the gardens was out of the question in the freezing cold! I will say that after having seen Peterhoff (St. Petersburg), maybe I'm insane, but I wasn't as amazed! Yes, I know that Versailles was the original and the Russians "stole" the idea in creating Versailles, but in this case, Peterhoff surpasses it by a mile (afterall, it is a palace, so the grander the better, right?). Usually, I prefer the original, but somehow, all I kept thinking was that it was beautiful with all the frescos and the gold, but the Russians did it better! I guess imitation is the highest form of flattery... (Or maybe I'm still bitter that I didn't get to see the Hall of Mirrors 5 years ago).

Anyways, as for my greatest accomplishment of the week... Yesterday I went to the store and bought a terribly expensive, yet tiny, bottle of nail polish. After climbing 5 flights of stairs and unpacking my bag, I realized that, though I had paid for the nail polish, I managed to leave it at the store. Today, I went back and actually managed, in mangled French, to explain what had happened. The lady at the desk actually took pity on me and allowed me to grab another bottle. Yay! My French is still super rusty, but maybe this shows that there is some hope?

Paris!

Ok I know that I still owe my thoughts on Athens, and I'll get to it once I get through my pictures. But meanwhile, I'm in PARIS!

We arrived yesterday (Saturday), got to our apartment, and as it turns out, to even enter the yard of the building, we needed to call up, which of course we couldn't do since our landlord never told us the code. After knocking and pushing random buttons, a nice woman allowed us up, and we climbed to the 6th floor (as we are living on the last floor of the walk up), and then, as it turns out... we were in the wrong stairwell. With no phones and no way to contact our landlord, we asked a nice neighbor to call him, but alas, no one answered.

By the time we got down to the yard, a nice old lady was there waiting for us, who sheepishly looked at all our luggage (really only one suitcase and bag per person) and either pitied or wanted to laugh at us.

In any case, we ventured out in the evening to pick up some necessities to tide us over until today (breakfast stuff and tea and all). Since I'd been dreaming about French yogurt for months now, I decided that I might as well find some immediately. Well, this ended up taking about 15 minutes as I started by simply staring at the shelves, then picking random yogurts up and examining them in a feeble effort to understand which was best.

The adventure didn't end there. Since Olivia and I had been traveling for 3 weeks, we were both due for some laundry, and as luck would have it, our apartment has a little washer/dryer combo unit. Well... after staring at the French washer/dryer, I thought I set it to the right setting, but obviously not since my clothes were not even remotely dry. I then found the manual, which again, was in French (and the vocab for working a washer/dryer was not part of my classes in high school or college)! I swear, the machine washed my clothes two more times even though I set the machine to stop washing and they were more or less dry by morning.

This morning I wrote a list of everything I needed to buy (at the street market and the supermarche) plus joining a gym, getting a phone, figuring out how to get to the RER A, etc. The first gym was closed (to be expected as it's Sunday in Paris), the RER A was an experience and I tried to break out my lame french, which was ok-ish, and will help in dire straights, but overall needs to improve immensely! In any case, we then headed to the market and I bought fresh veggies and fruits!) Our trip to the supermarche was not very productive, as, surprise, it was not open! I walked around our neighborhood a bit more and finally found a little shop that was open and I got to pick up some essentials like carrots and salt (so I could make some yummy chicken soup).

Anyways, thus far, I'm liking Paris. Even the walk up to the 5th floor isn't so bad! The French are quite nice and they have no problems speaking English or slowing down to make sure I understand. So thus far, all is well!

Classes start tomorrow, so hopefully all will be well on that front.

Romania the Beautiful!

Romania – My travel buddy, Olivia, will attest to me having said this phrase a lot on this trip, but I’ll say it again: I don’t know what I expected of Romania, but this was definitely not it. When we arrived, we rented a car and drove north towards Brasov. Along the way, we stopped in Ploiesti and then headed up to Sinaia to visit Peles Castle. I had printed out maps to show us which routes to take all the way to Brasov in order to be able to stop in Sinaia and then at Rasnov fortress before making our way into Brasov, but my maps were not terribly detailed, since I assumed that once I arrived in Sinaia, there would be signs directing the way to the palace. Obviously, assumptions are bad, they make an… you get the picture. In Sinaia, we climbed up the mountain (in a car), but found no castle. Eventually, a nice family showed us the way and we were able to park and see its beauty. The family that had helped us find the palace, served as our guides as they were nice enough to share the history of the palace and of their country and gave us tips on what to do and see in Brasov and Bucharest.

Again, maybe I really do like winter, but seeing the snow covered fields leading up to the palaces, and the bare trees, made the scene seem to come out of a fairy tale.

Next, our adventure led us to Rasnov fortress: looking amazing as it sits on a hill overlooking the entire town. We found a sign directing us up to the fortress, and followed the narrow winding road. Unfortunately, before we knew it, we were in Brasov, having, obviously missed a sign telling us to turn somewhere to Rasnov. I vowed to return with better directions (which I never found online).

Brasov was beautiful. I know that’s not a terribly descriptive word, but it seemed like a little town that had been passed over by time. Old buildings, churches, a citadel on top of a hill and towers surrounding the city, made me feel like I had stepped in a time machine and was in a truly medieval town. It helped that when we climbed the hill to the citadel, it was closed and there was no one else in sight, making the citadel look slightly creepy and like time had stood still up on that hill.

As the day waned, we decided to drive out to Rasnov again (only 15 km away), and try to figure out a way to the fortress. We asked a few people and finally stumbled on a family that spoke no English, but between their Italian and our French, we were able to understand the directions they gave us. Apparently, while we had taken the right road the previous day, we were supposed to turn off behind a restaurant, 1-2 km up the road. Once we found the road, it was obvious that it was silly of me to have looked for signs the day before, since, well, there were none indicating the turn off, and apparently you just had to have a sixth sense about this. Alas, while we found the entrance, it was closed, and we chalked it up to the fact that it was Christmas day, and we would come back the following day.

The next day we headed back to Bucharest, and stopped in at Rasnov again, surely, this time, we would be able to finally see the fortress; surely the third time was the charm. And it was. Because we finally noticed a sign at the bottom of the road, where the road was closed off, stating that the fortress was closed for an unspecified duration. Truly, Rasnov 3 – Maria & Olivia 0 (Game, Set, Match). We stood and took pictures from a distance, and I vowed to come back here again, when I come to explore the country’s beautiful painted monasteries in the northeast.

We visited Bran Castle (aka Dracula’s castle aka Vlad of Tepes aka Vlad the Impaler, who apparently never lived at the castle). Something about these fortresses and castles being mounted on top of cliffs is quite cool and surreal and truly out of the middle ages.
I don’t know what I expected of Romania, but its natural beauty, the castles and fortresses and the kind people we encountered along the way was surely not it. It felt like a land lost in time.

I can’t say the same of Bucharest however, which, so far, is my least favorite stop of the trip. The buildings and churches were beautiful, but whether it was the fact that it was dirty, looked like it was falling apart, the fact that it rained for an entire day or that I got splashed by not one, but two cars as they sped by me and ran through deep puddles, or the fact that the city broke my heart with its endless array of stray dogs, something about it just had no appeal. Truly, Bucharest was just as lost in time as the rest of Romania (where men could be seen riding horse drawn carts or buildings looked like they had scarcely been touched since they were first built centuries ago), but unlike Brasov and all the fortresses and palaces we saw in the countryside, Bucharest looked like it was falling apart; like it might crumble at any moment. The Soviet era buildings stuck out like sore thumbs and the beautiful old buildings either looked like they had weathered a battle or were juxtaposed by empty lots full of garbage on either side. Even the streets in the old city center were barely walkable, covered with drift wood or swimming in puddles and potholes.

I can’t say what my expectations of Romania were, but Brasov and the countryside was the stuff that dreams are made of and a must see while Bucharest was a complete miss for me.
Will I return to Romania? Absolutely. There are so many beautiful nooks and crannies left to explore (not to mention a rematch with Rasnov!) Would I recommend it to others? Again, absolutely. Sure, there are traffic jams because someone decided to pull over on the side of the highway (if two lanes can be called a highway). And there are times when you have to stop on a street and get out to shoo a dog out of the way. But this is a small price to pay to witness the beauty of this magic country, with probably my favorite stop along the trip, thus far.

Sofia

Sofia- Ahh Sofia. I don’t really know what to say about Sofia. Maybe it was the fact that we had 2.5 days in a city that requires one day to explore. Maybe it was the fact that the lovely yellow bricks made me feel like I might fall at any moment (though I only fell once – which, for those who know me well, is a HUGE accomplishment). Maybe it was the fact that there was an entire day when all the museums were closed, so after seeing every church in town and exploring the neighborhoods around us, we succumbed to the warmth of our hotel room and the entertainment of hulu – but something was missing from the Sofia experience.
Realistically, simply, I don’t think I realized how small Sofia is compared to places like Budapest and had I planned more accordingly, I could have been impressed by the city and the country. It was definitely a change from our first stop in Budapest. Here, most people spoke very little English and I had the pleasure of trying to decipher menus written in Bulgarian (using my Russian of course!) – though sometimes just for the fun of it as menus in English are actually available at a lot of places, though English speaking waiters are a different story. More importantly, there was no swarm of tourists, and our visits to the museums (on Tuesday, once they were open) and churches were, thankfully, without a throng of tourists and flash bulbs. In this respect, Sofia was a welcome stop along our journey.
Overall, I would go back to Sofia again, because, unlike Budapest, I don’t think it was necessarily meant to be seen with snow (though, it also had its moments) – nor was there much majestic (or attractive) about waddling across streets like a penguin in an effort not to fall in the slushy streets. Moreover, with all the park areas around the city, it would be good to see the city in the spring or summer months when things are abloom. Further, I would definitely visit Bulgaria again and plan a trip out to Plovdiv and its ancient sites and the beautiful monasteries.

Next stop… Romania.

Budapest

Budapest – as much as I’ve heard people compare it to Prague, to me, this city seemed very different. Yes, it had the bridge and the castle up on the hill, just like Prague, but whether it was the different seasons or the different people with whom I traveled, something made the cities very different to me. The obvious difference is that when I visited Prague 6 years ago, it was summer time and exploring the city center and the bridge meant enjoying the wonderful sunny weather, where-as Budapest greeted me with a snow storm that filled the streets (beautifully) with snow and forced me to buy true winter boots!
I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed Budapest, and part of the appeal was actually seeing the city covered in snow. While there were nights where I did not want to leave the hotel due to the blinding whiteness of the streets or days where I was hesitant to leave the safety (warmth) of museums, I can honestly say that it almost looked like Budapest was meant to be seen this way. Something about standing on a snow covered bridge, the sound of snow crunching underneath my boots and enjoying the warmth of the Hungarian mineral baths while the snow pounded away outside, made the city seem dreamlike!
Lest I forget to mention the food, which, I think, suited the weather perfectly. I can’t imagine enjoying goulash, hearty chicken laden with paprika or lamb soup in warm weather! Truly, this city, from its sites to its food was meant for winter weather.
I don’t know if I will come back to Budapest or Hungary, but I can honestly say that this city was made for winter weather. There is simply something magical about taking in the beautiful sites and the rich history of the country while bundled up in winter clothes. There’s something enchanting about being able to walk along Vaci street, running into the Christmas fair and enjoying a glass of warm wine and a kurtoskala (yummy roasted bread with cinnamon sugar).
For anyone who compares Budapest to Prague, maybe the weather influenced me, but it feels superficial, because beyond the bridge and castle, my experiences in the cities have been vastly different and I would implore most anyone (who is not afraid of the wind and snow) to give this city a chance in the winter. I will also suggest that anyone who comes to this city explore the Jewish quarter for its yummy food and less touristy atmosphere as well as the Terror Museum to understand Hungary’s recent history a little bit better.

Next stop... Sofia, Bulgaria.