Erasmus Shenanigans

Photos: London to Chennai

swathi — Fri, 19 Mar 2021 21:02:00 GMT

The Journey from London to Chennai mid-Pandemic

swathi — Fri, 19 Mar 2021 20:50:00 GMT

My alarm rang at 8 am - a full 7 hours before my 3 pm British Airways flight from London Heathrow to Kempegowda International Airport Bengaluru. I was ready for the journey by 9.30 am and was settling down to have breakfast, when my taxi company called to inform me that Heathrow tunnel was closed. ‘Will I still be able to get to Terminal 5?’ I asked worriedly, reminded of what had happened the last time I booked a taxi to Heathrow a year ago. ‘Yes, although we’re advising customers to leave an hour earlier due to road works’. After circling my entire block to locate the taxi which was barred from view due to HS2 construction work spanning my entire street, I shoved my oversized American Tourister suitcase into the boot and listened as the driver apologetically explained how he couldn’t help me due to health and safety regulations. The windows had to stay rolled down throughout the full 1-hour drive for ventilation and, of course, we wore masks. I was glad I’d tied my hair up when we reached the Westway.

I reached Heathrow 4 hours before my flight and sat at the entrance observing the changes. Every other seat had large red signs telling people not to sit there and to maintain social distance. The normal check-in counters were closed and the employees at the Bag Drop counters were boxed in by plastic sheets, the way Barbies are packaged. While in the queue for the temperature scanner, a British Airways employee asked if I had filled out the ‘Coronavirus (COVID-19): declaration form for international travel from England during stay-at-home restrictions’ form – something the British government had deemed mandatory the week I was travelling. I nodded, walked through a temperature scanner and queued to check-in. Here, I was asked for my negative covid test result which I had done 2 days prior. Next was security – endless empty lanes with friendlier-than-usual staff. I had roughly 3 hours to kill before my flight, but nowhere to go. All the usual retail outlets were closed. Curiously, a few employees sat inside the barricaded stores and I wondered if theirs were the easiest jobs in the world. A handful of duty-free stores and coffee shops were all that remained open. I realised that I’d walked the entire length of Terminal 5 when I found myself at the edge of Area A overlooking the aeroplanes outside.

Once my gate was announced, I took the intra-terminal train to Area C and waited at gate C63. British Airways staff handed everyone a face shield which we were to wear for the entire flight over our masks. The plane was at two thirds of its full capacity, with gaps between each set of travellers. I carefully entrusted my ukulele to a flight attendant, having never travelled with a music instrument before. 8 hours and 45 minutes later, I landed in Bangalore Airport. We were made to disembark in small groups. Three excited flight attendants waited at the plane’s exit, one of them holding my ukulele. ‘That’s me!’ I exclaimed while grabbing my baby a little too hastily from their grasp. When I joined the queue for the covid test, a red-eyed man in front of me turned around and said he didn’t understand how to fill in the self-declaration form handed to us on the flight. After explaining he needed to write his Indian address in the section he was pointing to, he strangely asked if I could fill it out for him. ‘As if I’d know your address’ I thought and declined, seeing that he’d already filled out half the form.

I was at the front of the queue when two airport workers started yelling for a passenger named Swathi. I watched them yell up and down the queue for a few moments and hesitantly told one of them that my name was Swathi. ‘Oh this is Swathi!’ she said to her co-worker in Kannada. Meanwhile her co-worker had brought another Swathi to the front of the queue which left us all confused and unable to figure out which Swathi was needed. ‘There’s a good chance her name isn’t spelled the same way as mine’. I peered at her declaration form and said ‘Yep, mine ends with an I not a Y’. They told us both to go up. ‘What’s going on? Why do we need to go?’ I asked, making the other Swathy stop. ‘Someone needs assistance or something like that’. Swathy responded ‘Oh that’s me then, I know the person who needs assistance’. I slowly backed up into the queue again and rolled my eyes in exasperation at the woman who’d sat near me during the flight.

A trained worker swabbed my tonsil and nostril for which I then paid Rs. 800 (£8). Compare this to the £120 I paid for the exact same test at Boots! Next was a temperature scan followed by a pulse oximeter test. It was here that I was branded like cattle by the man behind the counter. He stamped ‘UK PASSENGER 12.03.21’ on my forearm. I started laughing and looked at him; all he said was ‘Don’t sanitize for 10 minutes’. Finally, I reached immigration where the fingerprint scanner refused to work. 24 hours of no sleep was starting to take effect when I momentarily misplaced my boarding pass, making the officer at the desk was visibly angry. I followed the signs to the designated waiting area, where I braced myself for a 7-hour wait as stated on the Bangalore Airport website. The cramped waiting area made me uncomfortable, especially coming from a lifestyle of keeping two metres apart in my lab since July 2020, when I had returned to work on my PhD. Employees from various food outlets were taking orders; I bought an iced coffee and a sandwich while I worked on refining a protein model on my laptop.

I noticed a steady stream of people leave the waiting area and overhead the elderly couple sitting behind me saying they’d received their test result. ‘Were you on the London flight?’ I asked, ‘Yes and we got our results so check your email.’. Worried because I’d already used up the 45 minutes of free Wifi, I re-attempted connecting to the internet and miraculously found the email with my negative covid test result. I managed to leave the waiting area in under 3 hours, instead of 7! I hatched a plan to surprise my mum by taking an earlier connecting flight from Bangalore to Chennai. This proved relatively easy. I felt a twang of emotion when I saw Chennai written on the screen at my gate and thought about how difficult making this journey a reality had been. I was almost home. Again, the airline staff handed us all face shields before embarking the plane. This 1-hour flight was even emptier than the British Airways flight – there was no one else in my row of 6 seats.

The only check I went through at Chennai airport was a temperature scanner aimed at my forearm. I collected my suitcase and wondered how I’d get home since all the taxi counters inside the terminal were closed. I stepped outside and was offered a taxi by a driver waiting near Arrivals. On the way home, we chatted in broken English and Tamil about the coronavirus situation in Chennai and the new rules and regulations. Certainly, things seemed better here than I’d left them in London. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I arrived 15 minutes after my mum had to my flat – a lucky break indeed! She was shocked but overjoyed to see me as I’d arrived a full 6 hours earlier than I’d told her. I now had a 14-day quarantine ahead of me but was more than happy to spend it at home after being away for 14 months.

Today marks the 7^th day of quarantine. The government called in the morning to ask if I’d been staying at home and to inform us that they’d be sending someone to swab me. Three people in an auto were waiting for me outside the gate. One of the men asked for my name, age and phone number. The woman sat inside the auto sloppily swabbed my mouth and then nostril. The whole thing took less than 5 minutes. Now I have to wait for a negative result, else be institutionally quarantined. 7 days to go!

Document	Checked during journey
British Airways Passenger Information Form	No (but emailed)
British Airways Passenger Declaration Form	No (but emailed)
Coronavirus (COVID-19): Declaration form for international travel from England during stay-at-home restrictions	No
72-hour negative covid test	Yes
Air Suvidha Self Declaration form details for international arriving passengers	Yes
Tamil Nadu E-pass	No

27 hours in Edinburgh

swathi — Thu, 17 Sep 2020 04:17:00 GMT

Day 1

The Avanti West Coast zoomed from Euston to Edinburgh Waverly, every tilt synonymous with a turn in my stomach. Sydney, my friend from UEA and I were going on our second trip; the first being Budapest in 2017. The 5.5 hour-long train journey was spent chatting, watching The Social Dilemma (thought-provoking!) and playing Go Fish with a deck of cards I had bought in Gothenburg last year. We felt the dip in temperature as soon as we leaped onto the platform, but we didn’t mind – it was our first time in Edinburgh and my first time in Scotland!

The blackened, gothic buildings caught our attention. Sydney pointed out the sky-blue Scottish flags proudly hoisted upon numerous buildings in the city centre. I pointed wide-eyed at the trams, reminiscing my days in Brno. We were stereotypical tourists reverberating with excitement, bar the face masks. Sydney’s friend recommended ‘The Bon Vivant’ for lunch. This will forever be remembered as the restaurant in which we ate haggis for the first time! The dark meat was served as a deep-fried ball with spicy tomato salsa – and it tasted good! The second Scottish delicacy I tried was a venison pasty, a heavier light-bite than the haggis.

We dropped our bags off in Cityroomz Hotel in the heart of Edinburgh and started exploring. Our first, unplanned, stop was Princes Street Gardens. We were on our way to Edinburgh Castle, which stood atop volcanic rock behind the Gardens, when were drawn in by a majestic turquoise and gold fountain in the centre of the Gardens. Even The Trevi Fountain in Rome was just plain white! Our calf-burning ascent to the castle brought us to The Royal Mile; a mile-long street scattered with medieval churches, tourist attractions like Camera Obscura and The Whiskey Experience, and kilt-clad Scottish men playing Scotland the Brave on their bagpipes.

The 917-year-old Edinburgh Castle was once home to Mary, Queen of Scots. Her story is covered by the Netflix show ‘Reign’ if you like period dramas. Today, a quick Google search tells me that no-one lives there, but it’s still worth the visit for the view of the surrounding city. We walked to the other end of The Royal Mile which ends at the Palace of Holyroodhouse – the Queen’s official residence in Edinburgh! This excited me slightly more than the castle, despite the Queen not being there. Our final stop of the day was Calton Hill. We were astonished by what we found; an observatory, a 360-degree view restaurant, and most striking to me, a random Greek Temple. But, the best thing about Calton Hill was easily the panoramic view of the North Sea, Arthur’s Seat and the city. We certainly saved the best for last.

Day 2

‘Good morning Swathi, it’s 6.30 am’ announced my phone alarm. Hike day! A quick shower and breakfast later and we were in an Uber to the base of Arthur’s Seat. We asked our Uber driver to drop us off at the easiest route. He confidently stopped the car and boasted ‘On this route, you can run, walk, whatever you want!’. Sure enough, people whizzed past us on cycles and joggers kept going despite the incline. We passed by swans peacefully gliding on a mountain lake and after 10 minutes realized the road had started to descend. Sydney spotted steep stairs made of large slabs of stone shoved into the side of the mountain. This was to be our treacherous route up. I barely looked behind me for fear of vertigo and did not tear my eyes away from my feet – the next loose rock could be the last I stepped on. This may sound dramatic, but the higher we climbed, the windier it got. The wind soon reached such a strong level that it forced us to pause frequently, lest we fall. After a premature celebration, we reached the base of the final peak. This was the trickiest by far as the steps faded into rubble half-way up. Sydney and I chose our own paths up. Each woman for herself! Finally, with our hair painfully whipping our faces and our eyes streaming tears from the gale-force winds, our hands touched the viewfinder rock at the top of Arthur’s Seat. In one and a half hours, we’d climbed the 250 m to Edinburgh’s finest city view.

We checked out of our hotel and left our bags at the railway station for the day. I tried another Scottish dish at 'The Scottish Café & Restaurant' within the Scottish National Gallery. Crowpie was a type of herbed soft cheese served atop a scone. It reminded me of Boursin Cheese. Next, another must-try when in Scotland – whiskey tasting! For this, Sydney had booked us a place at the ‘Whiski Rooms’ where I tried Cullen Skink (fish chowder) along with whiskeys from four different regions of Scotland. Sydney’s favourite was a Glenfarclas 10 Year Old whiskey from the most popular whiskey region, Speyside. My preferred whiskey was the 12 Year Old Aberfeldy from the Highland. My take-home message from the whiskey tasting was that I did not like whiskey.

Finally, it was time for the Harry Potter tour! My favourite book and movie series, I am somewhat of a Harry Potter nerd. I’m thankful to Sydney, who is not a Harry Potter nerd, for allowing herself to be dragged along. The tour guide asked us questions for House Points (I represented Ravenclaw) and I eagerly answered, fuelled by the Scottish whiskey running through my system. The funniest part of the tour was when he made us cast a spell ‘Rossio Lumos!’ on a traffic light to make the pedestrian crossing turn green in the middle of a busy road. Some gems that were covered were the real-life Tom Riddell’s grave, Diagon Alley and the cafes in which J. K. Rowling wrote parts of the series. When the tour ended, Sydney and I dined at ‘The Elephant House’ where Joanne wrote The Prisoner of Azkaban, the Goblet of Fire and the Order of the Phoenix. The walls of the restrooms were covered from roof to floor with Harry Potter references, but the café itself was Elephant/African themed. I also tried my final Scottish dish, Cranachan which resembled granola. We took the LNER train back to London Kings Cross (4.5 hours) which gave us a scenic view of the East coast. We were content with a weekend-trip gone well.

Overall

WE LOVED EDINBURGH! The city offers the best of nature; a sea, lakes, mountains, even a volcano! The Scottish people were nothing but friendly and helpful, and we are big fans of the Scottish accent (can someone please volunteer to help me perfect it?). 10/10 would recommend visiting Scotland, especially Edinburgh!

Photos: Edinburgh

swathi — Wed, 16 Sep 2020 04:37:00 GMT

Photos: Milan and Venice

swathi — Wed, 28 Jun 2017 20:50:00 GMT

The Land of Gelato

swathi — Wed, 28 Jun 2017 20:04:00 GMT

Milan and Venice (23rd-25th June 2017)

Abby dreamed of going to Venice. We shared the same dream until December 2015, when my dream became reality. I recently found ultra-cheap tickets to Milan and back (WizzAir and RyanAir, of course) and we proceeded to plan a long weekend in the fashion capital of the world and the famous floating city. A raging thunderstorm in the early hours of the 23rd meant that I did not need an alarm to wake up at 3.30 am. I was forced to wear my only waterproof shoes, my Timberlands, to travel to a city that would be over 30 degrees for the duration of our stay. Our 5 am coach arrived at Prague Airport a mere 40 minutes before our flight. We sprinted through security - of course this was one of those times when they stopped me for a drug test. We reached the gate as the flight was boarding and took a deep breath when we collapsed in our seats. As we closed into Milan, we were greeted with a view of the Bergamo Alps from the plane's window. Small mountains around a glistening lake were peppered with colorful houses in the valleys. After landing, we took a € 5 coach to Milan city center, where we arrived at Hotel Medea perfectly at check-in time. Nobody came to the reception for almost 30 minutes. After almost 1 hour, we were ready to finally explore Milan! We stepped out into 36 ° C weather and took in the surrounding. Abby said it looked like Czechia, and it did; Old architecture and trams. However, the traffic was chaos, and it resembled Indian driving! Unfortunately, our quest for food took another 30 minutes and by the time our stomachs were full with pizza and sweet aubergine (yum) it was already 4.30 pm.

Our first stop was Sforza Castle. It was a lot huger than I expected, at least three times the size of Prague Castle! To our delight, the tickets were free. We later found out that most attractions in Milan (and probably the whole of Italy) sell free tickets within one hour of closing time. The receptionist warned us that we had only one hour to see all three museums but we didn't care. The only reason we came to the castle was to see the Rondanini Pietà, Michelangelo's last unfinished sculpture. The virgin Mary crying over a crucifed Jesus with an extra limb poking out of the side. Our next stop was the Duomo. Its size was mind-blowing; It was the largest gothic cathedral in the world. It was also the last ever gothic cathedral to be built and took over 700 years to reach completion. It was certainly the most beautiful sight in Milan and we had the pleasure of seeing it at all times of the day. Our next stop was supposed to be the Quadrilatero d'Oro (Rectangle of Gold). It was the fashion district housing all the world's leading designer labels. Abby and I were particularly excited to see this, but we ended up getting slightly lost instead. We found ourselves on a street branching off the Duomo containing high-street fashion brands. While Abby got her portrait sketched by a street artist, I took in the vibrant surroundings and enjoyed the singing of two insanely talented musicians down the street. It was now sunset and the Duomo had turned a soft pink under the rays. While we admired it, we spotted the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, which was the actual Golden Rectangle. Unfortunately, we arrived after 7 pm, meaning all the shops were closed. This did not stop us from window shopping and taking pictures in front of the expensively adorned mannequins. From this moment, Abby did not stop singing Versace on the Dancefloor. Any trip to Italy should not only be a sightseeing adventure, but also a gastronomic one. We chose to share a bowl of pink spaghetti, which to my delight turned out to be spicy. What I admire about Italian food is the ability to make a delicious dish from very few ingredients, greatly contrasting with Asian cuisine.

The next morning we joined a free walking tour starting at the Duomo. I was pleasantly surprised that the length of the tour was 3.5 hours, as most free walking tours are no longer than 2.5 hours. Our tour guide was one of the most enthusiastic ones I'd ever encountered, referring to us as his 'platoon' for the duration of the tour. We stopped at nine attractions, but three of them stood out in particular. Ossario Chapel had a room decorated with the skulls and bones of people. Trivulzio Chapel had a family emblem engraved above the entrance. The guide made us guess what it was, before delicately stating that it was three pairs of scrotums. Finally, the Milan State University. It was considered one of the oldest hospitals in the world. It was so impressive at the time that it earned a visit from Martin Luther himself. Today, the law and humanity students who study there follow a superstition involving jumping over the lawn to graduate, as they believe that the area was used as a mass grave for those who died when their university was a hospital. I wonder what other student superstitions are out there!

Being the science students that we are, Abby and I wanted to see scientific work. We were most awestruck when we saw the original pages of Leonardo Da Vinci's Codex Atlanticus in The Pinacoteca Ambrosiana. The man was a genius, let me tell you. We had a strange encounter with the tram driver, of all people, when we were on the way to the Leonardo Da Vinci Science and Technology Museum. After giving him a polite smile, the driver would not stop smiling at us through the rear-view mirror. When we stood up for our stop, he started waving at us to get off at the door next to the driver's seat. Needless to say, we didn't. An Italian trip would not be complete without an incident like this though. The first time I went, my friend and I got asked to go clubbing with our waiter and his brother. We declined. Italian men are pretty confident I must say. In this museum, the coolest display was a moon rock. I would recommend going here an hour before it closes because an under 26 ticket cost us €7.50 each.

By evening, our feet were hurting in ways they'd never hurt before. Yet, we marched on to the final area of Milan we wanted to see; the Navigli Grande Canal. We sat outdoors in a restaurant with a view of the canal. The sunset lit up the opposite side of the canal and I enjoyed eating Milanese style risotto. Summer time meant that the sun didn't set before 9 pm. The pictures we had seen of Navigli waterways in the dark looked prettier than what we saw in the daylight. Unfortunately, we had to leave early to get back to our under-par hotel to check-out. After making us pay €5 for an ineffective air conditioner, I was more than happy I wasn't staying a second night. Abby had booked us a Flixbus to Venice at 11.50 pm. The journey to the bus station was an absolute nightmare; Abby was almost in tears and my brain was close to exploding. We had been following directions via Google Maps during our trip, and as you may know, Google Maps is not accurate 100% of the time. This led us to arrive at the bus station a few minutes after the departure time but when we saw the coach still there, I opened the door while the taxi was still in motion and ran to the coach like our lives depended on it. I don't even remember how much cash I threw at the taxi driver. By some miracle, the bus left 20 minutes late with bums were sitting comfortably in the very last row.

We arrived in Venice at 4.30 am. We got off at the wrong stop (my fault) but it turned out everybody going to Venice made the same mistake. Luckily, this stop was actually closer to where we wanted to go so we bought an expensive €20 day pass and got on the next Vaporetto (public transport boat). The sun was beginning to rise by 5 am and I decided the map I'd printed out was useless. There's a unique charm about getting lost in Venice. Besides, it helped that the city was tiny. Abby couldn't believe she was finally in Venice and was totally absorbed. I began noticing a few differences between Venice in the summer and Venice in the winter. For example, this distinct fishy, ocean smell was definitely absent in the winter. But hey, I'm from Chennai so I'm not complaining! Most cafes were closed at 6 am in the morning but we luckily found one and recharged our phones and ourselves. We walked the narrow streets until we found yellow signs directing us to Rialto Bridge. After walking for a good 20-30 minutes, we finally arrived and marvelled at Venice's largest and most famous bridge. The black windows of the shops were all closed but we still enjoyed the picturesque view. We then took a vaporetto to San Marco (St. Mark's Square). The 25 minute journey took us down the Grande Canal which we immensely enjoyed as the vaporetto's were empty and it wasn't too hot. At San Marco, we saw St. Mark's Basilica and a couple getting their wedding photos shot in the centre of the relatively empty square (maybe they will find a small Indian girl in the background of one of their pictures).

I took Abby to these places because they were the most famous and we didn't have all day. She was satisfied and agreed there wasn't much else to see. To be honest, we were happy just riding that vaporreto and trying not to collapse from little to no sleep from the past 2 nights. Our holiday was generally at its end; we now had the long journey back to Milan Bergamo airport. Abby had found a convenient Flixbus straight from Venice to the airport. Again, we got confused with the name of the station and made it just 10 minutes before departure time, a small improvement. By the time we reached Brno from Prague airport, it was 2 am. We could barely stand, but Abby (a PhD student) said that she was glad we packed so much into a 72 hour trip. I had the pleasure of seeing my seventh Italian city and Abby visited a new country. Despite all the madness with the Flixbuses and the lethargy, the trip was ray of sunshine on our bleak research-orientated lifestyles. I must thank Abby for putting up with my grumpy attitude and for being such a lively travel partner!

Photos: Prague

swathi — Wed, 21 Jun 2017 02:18:00 GMT

Photos from my second trip to Prague

Prague 2.0

swathi — Tue, 20 Jun 2017 12:00:00 GMT

Prague (17th-18th June 2017)

The capital of the Czechia, and a favourite holiday destination for the many who want to immerse themselves in the centre of Europe. The name 'Prague' daunted me as a child, but today it feels like a bigger version of the city I've called home since September last year. Prague was the first city I visited on Erasmus. It made sense to do so, even though Vienna and Bratislava are closer to Brno. Something about Prague sounded magical and mysterious. I travelled with my mum and spent the weekend being herded around by tour guides in the historical centre and in Kutna Hora. This time, the second time around, I wanted the trip to be different. A friend had told me about Karlovy Lázně, the biggest club in Central Europe. Indeed, I had never been to a club even close to the size of this one; 5 floors, each with a different music genre. Now all I had to do was persuade as many people as possible to join and plan my weekend around it. I successfully irritated three girls until they were defeated and started planning my adventure. I call it Prague 2.0.

The journey started in panic as my friend Larisa missed the coach we were supposed to take together. The funniest thing about the journey to Prague was that all four of us arrived at different times! Grech first, me next, Daniela and finally Larisa. Nevertheless, we met at the Hlavni Nadrazi (main train station) and Daniela proceeded to take us to Riegrovy sady park, where we admired the view of Prague from atop a hill. She pointed out Prague's 'Eiffel Tower', a smaller version of the original called the Petřín Tower poking out randomly from another hill. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as we emerged onto a bridge parallel to Karlův most (Charles Bridge) and were greeted with the view of the Vlatva river carrying boats, swans and the reflection of Prague on a warm summer afternoon. On the other side of the bridge, the State Opera House stood proudly, a sign that we were now in the Old Town. We decided to walk to Staroměstské námesti (Old Town Square) and were surprisingly greeted with none other than a cocktail festival! Daniela told us the best M.C. in the country was on the stage in front of us, with a bunch of other famous Czechs. We bought four varieties of bizarre virgin cocktails (Larisa's came with an entire paprika floating inside) and entered the gift shop of the chocolate museum. Here, two men rolled out rock candy behind a counter. The shop weirdly sold Belgian chocolate with Prague labels on them, a gimmick that pissed Daniela off, being Czech herself. Being in Prague in the middle of summer was such a different experience.

After having lunch in a large mall and spotting yet another famous Czech person, an actor this time, we said goodbye to Daniela. We proceeded to Hostel Dakura, which I must admit, was kind of in the middle of nowhere. However, for the price (€13) it was totally worth it, especially because it was newly renovated. There was a small obstacle in that I didn't think to bring my passport to check-in to the hostel. I was casually told that it wouldn't be a problem, unless the police came the next morning, apparently not a rare occurrence. We had dinner at this incredible French Café 'bistro à Table!', which had the best quiche I've ever tasted. 200 ml of wine later, and we were cruising in the Metro to Staroměstské námesti. It was still early, so we filled up on beer right opposite the club before queueing to enter. Finally, the moment I had been waiting for had arrived; we were inside Karlovy Lázně! After paying 260 kc for entry and the cloakroom, we made a mission plan; start from the bottom and go up. Ironically, the first bar we entered was the oxygen bar which solely existed to cure hangovers. Yes, you breathe in pure oxygen from multi-coloured bubbling flasks via a mask. We entered the 'Mainstream Hits' level and found an empty dancefloor. I was surprised, I thought this would be the most popular. The design of the next levels blew me away; Level 1- ice bar, Level 2- laser statue, Level 3- old-school dance floor, Level 4- exotic dancer, Level 5-live band (Check out the website http://www.karlovylazne.cz/en/). My favourites were Level 3 (Oldies), where we congaed around the dancefloor, and Level 4 (Hip Hop and R&B). Needless to say we had a fantastic night!

The hangover the next morning was not so fantastic, but we managed to check out, leave our backpacks in the luggage hold in the main bus station and revive ourselves in a café in the centre. The girls wanted to go shopping and after the important purchases were made, we rushed into Hamleys. Who doesn't love Hamleys?! This branch did not disappoint, it had an entire carousel inside! We spent much longer than 20-somethings probably should in a toy store, but the slide and the candy floss were worth it. All went well until the security guard wouldn't let me out because I threw away the receipt for some jellybeans. Moral of the story: security guards suck. ANYWAY, Larisa hadn't been to Prague Castle so we made that our next stop. 208 steps later, and we stood looking down on the city of Prague outside the castle gates. We limped to the statue of Masaryk, the first president of Czechia, and recollected ourselves for a good hour. We were even there long enough to see the blue-uniformed guards change. Now we were heading to an attraction I hadn't seen before: the John Lennon Wall. It was a random wall that people covered with graffiti and lyrics from Beatles songs. It was totally Instagram-worthy, plus there was a man singing 'Let It Be' in front of the wall which totally amped the vibe. Aesthetics-aside, the wall had a history of protests against communism and today is a symbol of love and peace.

We had some time to kill and an instant telepathic decision was made when we spotted the John Lennon Pub. A couple of drinks and a great conversation later, and we were rushing to the bus station like our lives depended on it. Another military-like operation was made where the three of us split up to order food and collect our backpacks with 30 mins to spare. Tipsy, tired and agitated, I sank into seat 21 and watched Deadpool. By the way, Czech coaches are the best I've used in any country. A free hot drink, an entertainment system equivalent to those in planes and free Wifi. Everything was peaceful for the duration of the journey. After pulling in to Brno, Larisa and I promptly missed our respective bus/tram by seconds. Alas, the journey ended the same way it started.

Hello Hallstatt!

swathi — Mon, 24 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Hallstatt (8th April 2017)

I'd seen Erasbus trips pop-up on my Facebook news feed ever since I arrived in Brno. When I attempted to book a trip, however, there was a problem with the payment. This time, Dilshad offered to pay the €55 for my seat (I paid her back of course!) and so there was nothing stopping me from going on a day trip to Hallstatt (Hal-shtat), Austria. Otherwise known as the 'Pearl of Austria', it is considered to be the most beautiful lake village in the country. The Erasbus trips always start from Vienna, which meant we had to take a 5.10 am coach from Brno to reach Vienna in time for the 8 am start. Groggy, cold and hungry, we boarded the Erasbus coach and waited until we received our free bagel and juice before we fell asleep for the next 4 hours. Approaching our destination, I noticed the scenery change from green fields and isolated houses into snow-topped mountains and still lakes. The drive alongside the lake took me back seven years ago, when we drove on California State Route 1, the most scenic route in California. It was stunning. A quarter of an hour later, and we were pulling up right next to Lake Hallstatt. We were surrounded by the Dachstein mountains, the highest peak of which stood 2295 m tall, making it the highest mountain in upper Austria. 75 km further West or a 4-hour hike later and we would find ourselves in Salzburg. But that trip is destined for another time.

On the coach, they told us that there would be a one and a half hour walking tour, after which we had the next three and a half hours to ourselves. As we walked through narrow pathways that separated wooden houses on different levels of the mountain, our guide informed us that Hallstatt had been an UNESCO World Heritage site since 1997, the year I was born! However, the village has 7000 years of history, including a 4000-year old salt mine which is the oldest salt mine in the world. Superlative- check! We walked through a closed passageway until we reached what looked like a very old stone building indeed, 700 years old to be exact. Upon hearing it was a 4 star hotel, I was surprised. The inside must be the total opposite of the outside. Our guide told us a fire in 1750 destroyed all the wooden houses in the centre, after which the village was rebuilt using stone rather than timber. A more recent natural disaster occurred in June 2013, when the river Mühle, which we now walked over, overflowed. She showed us a photograph of the street we were standing on gushing with muddy water. It was hard to believe because the river today resembled more of a stream.

On the way up to the Catholic church, we stopped by a wooden bench that was formerly used by women to unload up to 70 kg of rock salt from the Salzwelten mine. They would go up and down the mountain, twice a day, even when pregnant! Today a funicular provides a shortcut to the mine, but at a cost of €16. Visiting the salt mine would take around 3 hours so we decided against it with our limited time. We now stood outside the entrance of the Catholic church, which stood pompously above the Protestant church a few metres below. This was no coincidence, as the Catholic Habsburg monarchy who ruled the area, made sure that the Catholic church was the biggest and most beautiful one in Hallstatt. Along came Martin Luther, head of the Protestant Reformation, who abolished the idea of paying to confess sins. The people were poor and many openly accepted this new division of Christianity that preached that your belief was enough. Today, Hallstatt is 60% Catholic and 40% Protestant and our guide proudly told us that there many 'mixed' couples. I smirked at this, finding it hard to imagine conflict within the same religion. Yes, I know how wrong I am about that. Moving on!

We sat inside the Gothic church as the guide showed us an altar with a grand painting inside that was only opened during special occasions, such as Easter. We then saw a strange altar; it had black and white images on the four smaller outer panels and a large colourful image in the centre. The guide told us that thieves had stolen the outer panels many years ago but low and behold, they had been found just two weeks ago in Italy! Just behind the Catholic church is the famous Beinhaus, or Bone House. Inside is a room full of painted skulls on wooden shelves supported by arm and leg bones. Until this day, the residents of Hallstatt can request for their skulls to be put on display after death. The last request was in 1997 from an old woman, whose skull lies slap bang in the middle of the room. The top of her skull has a black snake painted on it, a symbol of evil. Usually the family members choose the image to be painted on it, so I wonder what her character was in real life! The skull contrasted with all the other skulls painted with flowers and more attractive decorations.

The tour ended in the main square of Hallstatt. The guide told us that the city gets at least 1 million visitors a year! These visitors are mainly Chinese, as there is an actual replica of Hallstatt in China. Now you can imagine how beautiful Hallstatt is- another country copied it! We said our goodbyes and shared a pizza in one of the restaurants in the square. Finding a cheap meal was difficult, as the entire village was overpriced since 80% of the inhabitants depend on tourism for an income. Sharing half a pizza (plus the tap water they charged us for!) came to about €6 each. Our guide told us there was a famous viewpoint to the East, so we wandered in that direction, briefly popping inside the Protestant church on the way. It was true what she said about it being less grand than the Catholic church; it had plain wooden benches and simple decorations. We came to one of the boat stops and saw a sign advertising a 20-minute boat ride for €5. The view from the middle of the lake put in perspective how miniscule Hallstatt was. Only the very base of the mountains was covered in small, colourful houses. The boat took us to the railway station on the other side where we took millions of photos. There really isn’t much else you’d think about doing in such a picturesque corner of the Earth!

After being totally engrossed in posing for our photoshoot, we almost missed the boat back. Once on the other side, we followed the Chinese tourists as our guide had recommended (no joke), since they were likely to know where the famous viewpoint was. To our great fortune, the sun had decided to come out on our side of the mountain which lit up the entire village. More motor-boats and row-boats ventured into the lake, even the swans and ducks seemed lively. It was a glorious view! We stripped off our outer layer and acted like we were on some Mediterranean island rather than thousands of metres up in the mountains. Slowly, we walked back to the car park where our coach awaited. On the way, we heard a choir singing in the Protestant church, and crossed many souvenir stalls. There is not a street in Hallstatt where the surrounding view is less than magnificent. Our last walk was on the lakeside, an isolated white church shining under the setting sun on the opposite bank. With great hesitation, we forced ourselves to board the coach and braced ourselves for the 4 hour 15 minute ride back to Vienna. We arrived at 10 pm and ran from the metro station Schwedenplatz to Stadion, where we hoped we could change our 11.55 pm coach to the one leaving at 10.30 pm. Success! We were back in Brno by 12.10 am, really tired but satisfied that we managed to complete the 20 hour day trip successfully. I must thank Erasbus (and Dilshad) for making this trip possible!

Dracula's Crib

swathi — Mon, 17 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Bucharest (24^th – 27^th March 2017)

Here I go again, inviting myself to pre-planned trips with other people I barely met. This time it was with three lovely Spanish girls, one of whom is in my Nanobiotechnology class. We caught a 7 am coach from Brno to Budapest, and flew via Wizz Air from Budapest to Bucharest. We arrived in the capital of Romania at 7 pm and were outside the door to Globe Hostel an hour later. The fatigue from travelling a full 12 hours made us decide to just have dinner and call it a night. We walked down a main road, away from Piata Romana where our hostel was, and took in the sights of Bucharest at night. My first thought was that it reminded me of New York! Why? Yellow taxis, wide roads, and huge billboards. However, it also had a touch of India; street-sellers shoving their wares at car windows, unfinished buildings, and a power failure at the airport. This was my first time in the Balkans and wondered if the other countries in this area were similar, because Bucharest was so different from the other European capital cities I’d ventured in! We had dinner in the garden of a gorgeous Italian restaurant named Trattoria Buongiorno and tasted the local wine (me) and beer (Marta). She had found a free walking tour the next day at 3 pm, so we decided to explore the city by ourselves in the morning.

We woke up bright and early, and made our own breakfast with the food they provided in the hostel’s kitchen. We took a map and followed it around some pretty parks, the first of which resembled more of a botanical garden. The amount of money the government spent on keeping these parks in great shape surprised me. The whole city consisted of grey, cracked buildings with dilapidated houses on every street. All major cities have a poor area, but this entire city seemed to be stuck in a different era. It wasn’t until the free walking tour that I fully understood why things were the way they were. One of the things I’d been excited to see was the biggest administrative building in Europe- the Romanian parliament. It was only second to the Pentagon in the US. Honestly, it was underwhelming; plain white and unsymmetrical. The title of most beautiful parliament would go to the Hungarian parliament for sure. The tour started in a park located on the longest and widest avenue in Europe, even beating the Champs-Élysées in Paris. All these superlatives are thanks to a man named Nicolae Ceaușescu, Romania’s last Communist leader. Inspired by the great devotion of the public to its leaders in some Asian countries, he aspired for a similar relationship between himself and the Romanian public. To do this, he wanted the biggest and best of everything, not caring about the entire village he destroyed to make space for the parliament.

Of course, the tour included background history on Vlad the Impaler (son of Vlad Dracul), the very real human being on whom Bram Stoker based his classic novel ‘Dracula’. He earned his title by impaling 2000 soldiers along a road leading to his enemies, the Turkish. We would see Vlad’s castle the next day. The tour was one of the best I’ve been on, not only because they gave out free cookies to people who answered questions correctly, but also because our guide brought along pictures and got very personal with us. Most guides usually do a more show-and-tell tour about buildings and landmarks. Our guide told us about when her parents only had access to hot water for 2 hours a week under the Communist rule. She ended the tour in Piaţa Universităţii and we walked diligently back to Coffeol, a café we’d passed on the tour serving the most glorious jars of coffee you could imagine. I ordered an apple pie coffee, with apple sauce, whipped cream and shortbread sticking out of the top. I will put a picture in the Bucharest photo gallery, you have to see it to believe it! We sat outdoors for a good 2 hours, bought our dinner and back to the hostel.

When we’d first arrived at the hostel, we’d seen a poster advertising a tour of Peleș Castle, Bran Castle and Brasov for €40 per person for a group of four. It was a good price and covered more than what would have been possible in one day by train. We decided to do it on Sunday, and at 9 am our guide picked us up and we drove the two and a half hours to Peleș Castle. I was surprised to learn that it was high up in the hills, similar to driving to a hill station in India. The village surrounding the castle was picturesque, with wooden beams and white walls. The Castle itself was straight out of a fairytale! Stone statues of the king and queen of Romania stood in front of it and faced a view of green hills. We bought tickets for a one hour tour for which we had to wear blue plastic covers over our shoes, just like going into a tissue culture lab. The inside of the castle was richly decorated, as you’d imagine, but it was unique in the way that it had rooms decorated in the styles of different countries. There was even an Asian room with a table and chair set from India! Another curious feature were the fake wardrobe doors, that the queen used for entry into her bedroom. Judging by her painting on the wall, we mused about whether she would have actually fit through the small opening.

By the time we reached Bran Castle, it was snowing heavily. The temperature had dropped to 3°C and we were all shivering. Arms shielding us from the snowstorm, we walked up the steep slope to the entrance. The bottom of the castle was merged into the rocks, making it intimidating. This was the castle whose history was intertwined with tales of a vampire, earning it’s nickname Dracula’s Castle. The rooms were plain and the wooden stairs were cramped. It was in stark contrast with Peleș Castle. The only beauty came from the snow outside, whirling around the orange-tiled turrets. Entry to Bran Castle had been more expensive, but it wasn’t as good an experience as the previous one. If you plan on visiting Dracula’s Castle, I suggest going on October 31^st, when you may have the thrill of spotting Dracula lurking around. He would be the only interesting thing.

After lunch at an Italian restaurant, we drove a further 20 minutes to Brașov, population 200,000. We were now within the Transylvanian district, a location I thought was make-believe before embarking on my Romania trip. We climbed up to Brașov Citadel Fortress, where we were met with a stunning view of the new and old towns, the latter surrounded by snow-covered hills. The large, white sign reading ‘Brașov’ tickled me as it was in the same style as the Hollywood sign in Los Angeles. We walked through the city centre, and saw the main square and the Black Church, so-called because a deliberate fire had left it with scorched walls. We saw a stranger sight of a group of tourists dancing in the style of a traditional Turkish folk dance in the middle of the main square. We were exhausted after covering three locations in one day and we slept on the 3-hour drive back to Bucharest.

That morning we’d left a note in our hostel complaining about the red bumps that had appeared on our bodies overnight. We thought they were bed bugs, or some other insect. When we returned that night, we found a reply saying they’d called in people to check for bugs but they found nothing. They even went further to suggest that we may have brought them in with us! I left a poor review on Hostel World, and would never recommend Globe Hostel to anyone visiting Bucharest. After a sleepless night on Saturday, thanks to no rules on noise at night, we all slept blissfully on Sunday. The next morning, we checked out and travelled the full 12 hours back to Brno. We managed to see a lot in a short amount of time, and I must thank Marta, Angela and Cristina for planning a wonderful trip and letting me tag along!

Photos: Hallstatt

swathi — Mon, 10 Apr 2017 22:58:00 GMT

My first time skiing!

swathi — Mon, 10 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Zakopane (18th -19th March 2017)

Day 1

This entire trip pushed me to the extreme and just writing about it gives me a headache. But, I write this for your enjoyment! Saturday night at 2 am was the start of the weekend trip to a small town named Zakopane (Zak-o-pan-eh). It sits at the bottom of the Polish side of the Tatra mountains; Slovakia lies on the other side. Many choose to play winter sports on the Tatra mountains because of its considerable inexpensiveness in comparison to the Alps. The fact that I lived closer to the Tatra's than the Alps sealed the deal. I was meeting two guys travelling from Belgium there, both who had skied before. For company's sake, I convinced Nina, a Taiwanese girl, to come along. I had met her for the first time when we volunteered to model for the same project. Those were fun times... The Flixbus dropped us off at Krakow at 6:40 in the morning and then we travelled a further two and a half hours by minivan to Zakopane, population 30 thousand. The minivan took us higher and higher until we were 1000 m above sea level and the drizzle turned into snow. Top Hostel was located on the main high street, but we didn't have time to explore it just yet. No, we dropped of our backpacks, refreshed ourselves and headed straight back out again to catch yet another minivan. On the way, I rented ski trousers and ski gloves from a shop which I was told would be cheaper compared to where we would ski. This time we were accompanied by Erich and Tim and they took us to Białka Tatrzańska, a huge ski resort in the mountains. It had several slopes ranging in steepness, the steepest ones reserved only for experts.

The guys sussed out the cheapest rental shop in the resort and we rented our ski shoes, skis, poles, helmet and goggles. Now we were ready for the slopes! We bought a 24 hour day pass which cost around 95 złoty and clicked in our ski shoes into our skis. Hmm, it seemed much easier to move around on skis compared to ice skating. My optimism was at a high. I tried getting through the first barrier to the ski lift and got stuck at the gate. The first embarrassment of the trip. I was nervous getting onto the first lift because they don't stop moving, but it was a funny experience. You stand in front of it and then they hit you from behind and you collapse onto them! The nervousness kicked in again when we approached the top of the slope. We stepped off the lift but I gained momentum and experienced my first fall. I tried getting up but it wasn't as easy as I thought. The long skis meant I couldn't stand up one foot at a time and I had to be pulled up. I didn't stay standing for more than a few seconds until I fell down again. This pattern lasted for about 20 minutes but I told myself I was a beginner and this was normal. Finally, when I could stand up for longer than 30 seconds, Tim tried to teach me how to stop using the 'Pizza' stance, and how to move forward using the 'French Fries' position. I found it really difficult to stop and almost slid right off the mountain. Skiing is not for the faint-hearted guys! They got rid of my poles saying that they wouldn't help me and learned to twist my body to change direction, hoping to look like a normal skier, moving in curves down the slope. After seeing how terribly I was struggling, they decided to take me to this conveyer belt with poles hanging down from them. You place the pole between your legs and let it drag you comfortably half-way up the slope. I was too relaxed during the process because at the top I promptly fell and blocked the exit for people behind me.

We moved to the second, more steeper, slope after a while. I managed to reduce the falling to just once or twice down the mountain (excluding falling off the ski lift almost every time). They said I was improving, but with the improvement came an intense strain in my legs. It really took all my energy to swerve and I had to stop at least twice going down a slope to catch my breath. Finally, we went on the third steepest slope and the ski lift for this one went really fast. It didn't slow down at the top either. I cringe so hard thinking about what happened next; I fell, of course, but this time it was very dangerous. Nina yelled 'Watch out for your head!' Because the ski lifts behind me were coming in hard and fast. A man came running to lift me up or if you think about, save me. I trudged behind my friends, totally ashamed, not even wanting to make eye contact with anyone. I hoped they went down the slope and left me to follow alone. Have I mentioned that they were all decent skiers? By some miracle, I didn't fall even once while skiing down this slope! I actually felt like I was properly skiing and my spirits lifted. I waited for the others when I reached the bottom and we went to have lunch. It felt so good to sit down but this meant a tidal wave of exhaustion hit me. The guys went for another round, but Nina and I said we wanted to rest a little longer. We never went back. Instead, we enjoyed dessert and hot chocolate until we were kicked out of the restaurant at closing time. We returned our rental equipment; I can't describe the elation I felt taking off those 1 tonne ski boots. We went to a cheese stall and tried a traditional snack of smoky cheese topped with sweet jam. A strange combination, I thought, but tasty. Torrential rain made us seek shelter in the ski rental place and we watched the international ski jump competition on their small television. Poland was coming first and the locals were cheering and trying to make conversation with us simultaneously.

After buying snacks and drinks from a local supermarket, we caught the minivan back to the hostel, checked in, and ordered in pizza for dinner. The guys were going to a different resort the next day but we were going to explore Zakopane. Many recommended we go to Morské Oko, a lake amidst the Tatra Mountains. I'd never been hiking before and I was excited, looking forward to the great exercise and the beautiful views we had been promised. We were told we'd have to wake up early to complete the hike in time so we hit the way.

Day 2

We started the hike at only 11 am. Nina told me hikers commonly start at 6 am to avoid the afternoon sun. A rushed check-out, stocking up on snacks for the hike, returning my ski trousers and ski gloves, running out of Polish złoty and confusion about where to get the minivan all led to delays. It would take two and a half hours to reach the lake and one and a half hours to walk around it. The last minivan back was at 5:20 pm so we made the executive decision to skip walking around the lake. The view was stunning, I'd never seen anything like it! Sure, I'd been to the Himalayas but it was not as beautiful as the Tatras. At least, what I had seen. Unfortunately, we couldn't stop for long to admire the view because we had to make it up in time. We walked/climbed the full two and a half hours up the mountain without any breaks! I was so proud of myself and Nina was surprised too, probably after yesterday's piss-poor attempt at skiing. Morské Oko was still frozen and people walked right through the middle of it. To get to the lake, you needed to go down an extremely steep pathway that had a thick rope attached to the handle for support. Nina and I both decided to give that a miss, even though you could always slide down the pathway on your bum if desired. We entered the wooden building with a view of the lake and ate the snacks we bought that morning, giving ourselves only 45 minutes.

We finished the hike back down the mountain in 1 hour 45 minutes, despite the roads being covered in ice and slush. Nina fell a few times whereas I remained standing. It was the total opposite of yesterday! We made the 4 pm minivan and were very happy about returning to Zakopane earlier. This meant we had more time to sightsee the town itself! Huge wooden letters spelling out the name of the town stood in front of a glorious view of snow-topped mountains. I swore I would take a picture there when I first saw it, and so we disembarked the minivan right outside. There was even a telescope which cost 2 złoty. I never usually pay for these things, but I needed to get rid of my Polish coins, and so we peered though it and could see the details of the trees lining the mountain. We headed to Fashion Street, the main street of the town. It was so traditional, wooden stalls and buildings were everywhere! I bought some magnets from a local seller and then entered a local toiletries store. Nina and I bought traditional Polish skincare products, something I was very excited about (Disclaimer- my face mask was amazing!). We came across a candy shop that claimed it was the world's smallest candy manufacturer. I remember seeing it when I came to Krakow 2 weeks earlier. Unfortunately, there was no one in Brno to buy these for so I left empty-handed. We found a really reallyreally cheap place to eat. It was a pay as it weighs buffet, and my plate of traditional Polish food came to only 13 złoty (£2.63!)

We had already said goodbye to the guys this morning as we weren't sure if we'd see them again in the evening. Our bus to Krakow was at 6:30 pm, But surprise, surprise, they were chilling in the kitchen when we came back to pick up our stuff! We had only 20 minutes to rest but it was enough time to share stories. There was only one slope where they'd gone and Erich's leg was bust from the previous day of skiing, so they'd returned early too. We said goodbye for the second time and grabbed our backpacks. I could feel my legs weakening by the hour and was glad we'd only have to sit in a coach for the next few hours. When we disembarked in Krakow, we had a one hour wait. At this point the burn in my things and calves, and the constant clicking of my knees was excruciating, forcing me to limp around Krakow Central station. I barely had the energy to lift myself into the Flixbus back to Brno. We arrived at 2:40 am in the morning, a full 48 hours spent away from the city we call home. Nina and I said our goodbyes and I limped to the N93 bus, very accustomed to my journey back home at odd hours of the morning after such trips. I took two painkillers and set the alarm for my lectures the next day. You may think we were crazy to do this trip, but I think it was worth it for the sake of trying new sports. Erasmus is the only time you'd plan anything this rushed, but think about if we'd gone skiing in the Alps instead. The entire trip would have cost twice as much! Furthermore, I am insanely proud of myself for both the skiing and the hiking. If anyone reading this is from TBIS, you know I've always been more scholarly than sporty. In fact, I don't have any sporting talents. This was a test of my endurance and, even though I severely embarrassed myself on the slopes and almost lost the ability to walk after the hike, I still completed both! And for that, I am happy.

Weekend away in Krakow

swathi — Mon, 3 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Krakow (4th-5th March 2017)

The Auschwitz tour left us in dire need of coffees. We found a chain café on the other side of the street that the tour bus had dropped us off on. I cheerfully asked the barista which of the several mouth-watering desserts in the display case were traditional in Poland. She suggested a cinnamon apple tart and a vanilla pastry. That vanilla pastry was something special indeed. My dad promptly wrote a glowing review of the café on Trip Advisor, his current obsession. We dropped our bag of snacks, a typically Indian thing to bring on a day trip, in our hotel room and left to seek out the Jewish Quarter. The free paper map we'd been given at our hotel showed that it was a 5 minute walk down the same road. After my long Christmas trip, I'd become quite the intrepid explorer and I'd developed a sixth sense; an intuitive sense of direction. Therefore, I was ready to turn into what I knew was the Jewish Quarter when my dad kept walking down the road to 'check if there was something interesting we'd miss'. Then he claimed he thought we'd walked too far and reached the river. Frustrated, I told him to just follow me (he later complained to my mum that I made him walk a lot).

I was intent on seeing a synagogue. This was to be much harder than I originally thought. However, the first religious building we came across was a massive church. This left us confused, but we kept walking deeper down the dark streets. We came across a small outdoor seating area surrounded by fast food stalls. All the young people of Krakow were buzzing around the Belgian frites stand, understandably so. More were found sitting outdoors sipping beers within the vicinity of a huge hall broadcasting the current football match. It was a Saturday evening after all! We found ourselves in a square with a map displaying possible walking routes around the Jewish Quarter. Bingo! We were in the right area after all. But before I spotted the first synagogue, we found ourselves on a street with plenty of restaurants boasting traditional Polish food. This was on our list of things to do, so we kept it in mind for later. The street led into a square that made us gasp. A circular building stood in the middle, with bars and Belgian frites being sold from the windows around it. In front of it, a man strummed a guitar and sang English classics while his bandmates provided background music. A souvenir stall profited from the magnet I bought for my mum. But the sight that excited my dad the most, was the grill. Tender meat stood drenched in oil and fatty juices and he stood there drooling. I couldn't let him have it after eating ribs and steaks in Brno for the past two days. He tried arguing but I pulled him inside one of the restaurants serving Polish food.

We ordered ewe's cheese croquettes served with cranberry sauce and beef dumplings. Of course, vodka was on our list because you know, Poland. Vodka. Polish vodka. I ordered a cocktail with a Wisniowa cherry vodka base which resembled cough syrup. However, I was thirsty after walking for almost 30 minutes so it went down easily. My dad ordered something sweet too, and somehow waiters always mix up our drinks, thinking the lady would order the sweeter drink. We enjoyed many a laugh over that. We hit the streets again and finally found a group of signposts pointing to synagogues in different directions. We saw three just a minute away from the square! My dad warned me that synagogues aren't as fancy as I thought and it was true, the one looming down on me was white-washed and plain. However, the histories behind them were more interesting.

I had booked a tour to The Wieliczka Salt Mine on Sunday. This UNESCO site had popped up on 'Get My Guide' and it looked like a unique attraction. Headsets were handed out but they proved unnecessary. I guess being in a cave helped the guide's voice be heard. The first leg of the tour was descending 400 steps underground until we were 65 metres below the surface. The temperature was the same as on ground level – 16 degrees. Everybody had wrapped up warm thinking it would be colder, including me. The tour took us through a series of large openings, from oldest to newest. The first area to be mined was ready in the 1600's. The guide told us it was completely fine to lick the walls because there was barely any bacteria down here. I dug my fingernail into the cauliflower-like deposits of crystalized salt and split the powder between our fingertips. We had just tasted salt at its freshest! It was certainly an interesting tour and at the end you are standing more than 160 m below the ground. You could buy salt products made from the salt harvested from this mine. I bought a couple of sachets of garlic salt, but there were also salt bath crystals and salt jewellery!

The tour bus dropped us off in the same place that we had been dropped off after the Auschwitz tour, but this time we headed in the opposite direction; towards the city centre. Krakow had a lovely medieval vibe to it because of well-preserved stone wall surrounding the historic buildings in the centre. The wall was lined with a park where several people cycled, roller-skated and skate-boarded. This city liked to travel on wheels! After nearly getting knocked down by a group of segways, we stood below a towering monument. Our first priority was lunch and we found a decent restaurant in the heart of the city. The food shocked us. Our starter was Polish herring with dill and garlic ice cream. Garlic ice cream! It sounds terrible, but it was so delicious and refreshing and we were blown away. For mains, I had duck pancakes and my dad had pork steak. It was one of those meals you never forget. We burned off the calories by walked down to Wawel Hill where Wawel castle proudly looked down over the Vistula River. It was picturesque, ferries chugged on one side of you and people lay on the rolling slopes of the hill on the other. We had arrived when the sun had just begun to set and the sky was pink and blue. Sometimes it’s better to stay outside rather than paying for tickets to see a museum or a treasury, such as those in the castle. On the contrary, we didn’t have that much time to spare. We made a U-turn around the castle and walked west towards the Old Town.

The Main Square in Old Town contained the Town Hall Tower and more interestingly, the Krakow Cloth Hall, or Sukiennice. The Sukiennice looked quite out of place for it was a low building with several archways. Inside we found stalls lining both sides of the passageway selling every touristy item you could think of. It reminded me of the market place at the entrance of Red Fort in New Delhi. I bought a pair of amber earrings, since amber jewellery was sold everywhere in this city. My dad made a deep connection with a beautifully carved walking stick, with a ram’s head as the handle. He pondered over it for a good 20 minutes because of suitcase restrictions, but ended up taking it from Poland, to Czech Republic, to London and finally back to India with him. The amount of travelling the walking stick did was in complete contrast to the actual purpose of the walking stick. We watched the street performers for a while, ate gelato and walked towards to the far north of the city. We reached the Barbican, the gateway leading to the Old Town. By now, it was getting dark so we headed back to the hotel and slept for an hour. We woke up just to eat dinner and then went back and slept again. The reason was because our 11 pm coach would only reach Brno at 4 am in the morning. Overall, we had a great, inexpensive weekend in Krakow, even if the walking got a little too much for my dad!

Photos: Bucharest

swathi — Thu, 30 Mar 2017 22:42:00 GMT

Adds flavour to the Dracula's Crib story!

Auschwitz- the most infamous concentration camp

swathi — Mon, 27 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Auschwitz-Birkenau (4thMarch 2017)

Krakow, the last city within coach-distance from Brno that I had yet to enter. My dad was coming to visit me for the weekend and I asked him how he felt about a quick trip across the border. He said it was a great idea, but he didn't feel too keen on visiting Auschwitz, saying he wasn't looking forward to all the bad vibes. "Too bad" I said, and proceeded to book a 7 hour Auschwitz-Birkenau tour for Saturday. I believe it’s a place everybody should see once in their lifetime. For me, it was sort of like the ending to the World War 2 story; I'd stood atop Hitler's bunker and walked through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin. Every European capital city I'd visited had some history relating to WWII, but I'd never been to a concentration camp. That too, this was the most infamous concentration camp in the world. So I booked Lux Express coach tickets for only €7 to Krakow, and after a day and a half of lounging around in Brno, I whisked my dad away to the Polish city.

We arrived at Aparthotel Globus at midnight after the four and a half hour journey and went straight to bed. The tour started at 10 am the next morning and sleep was a little challenging because every time a tram ran past the hotel, the beds would shake as if we were experiencing a mini earthquake. However, the room was spacious and located very conveniently. We had a typical free European breakfast the next morning consisting of ham, cheese and bread. We only had to walk five minutes up the road our hotel was adjacent to, to reach one of the meeting points for Krakville Tours. A large crowd had already gathered and we waited to be organized into coaches. The tour included transport to and from Auschwitz, located an hour and a half West of Krakow. The country side was beautiful, with lonely churches standing atop rolling hills of orange fields. Suddenly we found ourselves slowing down next to some railway tracks. My dad explained to me that the Germans built these tracks specially for the purpose of transporting German Jews to these concentration camps. This was a sign that we were close. A few minutes later we disembarked the coach and stood in the queue to collect our headsets and audio guides. My dad had complained about how depressing this tour would be and this was where the emotions set in.

We stood in front of the iconic archway that translates from German into 'Work gives you freedom', a pinnacle of irony. The original archway had been stolen in the last decade and cut into three pieces, hence a replica had to be made. On our right stood the kitchen, with several chimneys protruding from the roof. I feared it was something else, but that would come later. There were three Auschwitz camps (the third no longer existed) and we had just entered Auschwitz 1. Two storey red-bricked buildings stood in rows and the area was surrounded by woodlands. Objectively, it was actually quite pretty. In other words, the horrors of the past did not reveal themselves at first glance. Our guide sombrely begun to explain what would see on the tour today. We would enter three of those buildings. In the first, we would see pictures taken inside the camp during the war and the belongings of the victims. In the second, we would see the living quarters and pictures of the victims with dates showing how long they survived. In the third, we would go the cellars where misbehaving prisoners were sent to be tortured.

The first building had wall-sized photographs of the camp during its active years of 1942- 1945 (it was originally a Polish army barrack). We saw a photo of a Hungarian Jewish family carrying suitcases, being ushered by German officials. This was when the guide told us about the beginning of the German's lies. The officials would tell these families that they were simply being relocated and would be given jobs in their new home. Hence, every Jew would pack up their belongings and board the trains, oblivious to the fate that awaited them. In further rooms, we saw mountainous piles of shoes, brushes and most disturbingly, human hair. The hair pile weighed a few tonnes, a fact that impressed just how many victims were murdered. Amongst the belongings, were a few stand out products from companies still in production today. Coca-cola, Bata and others had all profited from the war. We walked down the corridor of the second building and peered into the rooms on the sides. Large rooms covered in sacks filled with hay served as sleeping areas. Prisoners were allowed less than a minute to use the communal toilets, which they had access to only twice a day. More depressing than these rooms, however, were the photos on the walls. On the left were photos of women, their respective dates revealing they rarely survived for over 3 months. On the right were photos of men, who would normally survive between 6-8 months depending on how skilled they were. Some jobs were moreprivileged than others; people sorting through the belongings of the recently murdered were likely to find food that would help them last longer. The third building was the actual 'prison', if you can forget the idea of the whole place being a prison. The dark, cold cells in the cellar would house prisoners up to 3 days without food. Particularly horrid were the standing cells, only a couple of feet wide and tall. All the cells had tiny rectangles as breathing holes.

It was a relief to be back outside under the shining sun. The relief vanished when we reached gallows where the largest public execution took place. We then proceeded to a gas chamber. This is what I thought the kitchen was at the start of the tour. The first room is where the victims would strip for their 'disinfection'. Yes, they were even told to remember where they kept their belongings because they were going for a shower. The second room was the chamber itself. I felt chills all over me and thought about when Bruno and Shmuel innocently enter a gaschamber in 'The Boy with the Striped Pyjamas'. The poison they used was originally used to kill rats; 12 canisters were enough to kill 2000 humans. This type of poison was specifically chosen because it was developed by a Jew. Just another way that the Germans found to aggravate the situation. The gas would be poured down from small wooden squares in the roof. The bodies would then be taken to the crematorium in the next room and searched for gold teeth and other valuables. The women's hair would be cut off and incorporated into soldiers uniforms or used to make ropes. The prisoners with this job had it the worst, for obvious reasons.

Finally we were done touring Auschwitz 1, which meant we were moving on to Auschwitz-Birkinau (Auschwitz 2). Woohoo. It was a 5 minute drive away, and it immediately looked more like what you would imagine a concentration camp to look like. It was 10 times bigger and barbed wire fences stood high on both sides, surrounding ruined buildings to the right (men's quarters) and restored buildings to the left (women and children's quarters). A red brick archway over a train track separated the two sides. We had seen a photo, in the first building in Auschwitz 1,of the platform where Jews disembarked the train and stood in queue to be sorted. The guard would either point straight, towards relative safety, or down the end of the track, towards two gas chambers. This was the place families saw each other for the last time. We walked down to the end of the line and saw the memorial. There were around 20 stones, on which the same message was engraved in all the languages that the Jews brought to this camp spoke: "Forever let this place be a cry of despair and a warning for humanity, where the Nazi's murdered about 1 and a half million men, women and children, mainly Jews from various countries of Europe". We entered one of the restored buildings that used to house children. Three levels of wood, big enough to fit three, but used as a bed for four to eight, filled the shed. Temperatures reached –25°C in the winter and many would die of the cold. A few white roses lay on the wooden shelves, a memorial to long-lost ancestors I supposed. The guide stopped my dad and I during a break to ask us where we were from. He said they don't get many Indians visiting Auschwitz. Just because it isn't a part of our history, doesn't mean we shouldn't learn about it. I hope the lack of Indian visitors was purely because of the long distance between Poland and India, because it's not like I haven't seen them visit other attractions inEuropean cities.

Our guide dropped a bombshell at the end of the tour; his great-grandfather had been imprisoned in Auschwitz-Birkenau many years ago. That's why he did these tours, and I respect his reasoning. We boarded the coach back to Krakow and arrived close to 6 pm. It was a strange feeling to return to normal civilisation. The tour was enlightening but not lively, informative but not fun. A real anomaly of a tour, but such an important one to do. My dad admitted that he would never have done it if it wasn't for me, but he was glad I forced him along at the end of the day. If you ever have the opportunity to visit Auschwitz, please do. It's one thing reading about another person's experience but it's a truly different perspective when you stand in the middle of a gas chamber and see the fake shower heads and the real wooden flaps and realize this was the last thing over a million innocent people saw before being ruthlessly killed.

Budweiser Budovar!

swathi — Mon, 20 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Ceske Budejovice (10th February 2017)

This was the most spontaneous trip I've ever done. A mere two days before going, I messaged a Brazilian girl I had only met once 3 months earlier and asked her about her travel plans. She had posted several pictures in different countries on Facebook and I wondered if she would be going anywhere else soon. She replied saying that her final trip before she left Europe was to Ceske Budejovice, the biggest town in the South Bohemian region of Czechia. I hadn't needed to go to work for the past 2 days and so I thought, why not another day? It was a Friday and I am an Erasmus student after all! The city was 3 and a half hours away by coach and Vanessa had told me she planned to roam around with just a paper map. This was exactly my kind of adventure and so I booked the tickets the next day and got an early night.

It's very important to make the most of your daylight hours during the winter to avoid turning into an icicle when the sun goes down. Vanessa had booked at 7.15 am bus- torture for late risers like me. I was glad she had planned the trip because I would have taken a later coach and wasted those precious hours. We reached at quarter to 11 am and were glad to find that the central bus station was attached to a mall. Sometimes, bus stations are out in the open with no source of food anywhere nearby. This is terrible when you are hungry and tired at the end of your day of sightseeing and all you want to do it curl up in the warm coach and drink some hot chocolate. We bought some sandwiches from Tesco for breakfast and started our long, arduous journey to the city centre. We were there in 5 minutes. The main square was huge for a town that small! The houses lining the square boasted all the colours of the rainbow and in the middle stood a frozen fountain. It's quite uncommon to see a running fountain during the winter season and this was a perfect example of why. The water ran only around the outer edge of the circular fountain; the rest of the water was frozen, some in mid-splash, forming long icicles.

While wandering around Ceske Budejovice, we came across the river Vlatva. It was frozen and I was in awe. I'd never seen an entire river succumb to the Arctic temperatures. I took a few silly pictures and we crossed the bridge. We soon found ourselves at the edge of the city. This was when we noticed a red sign hanging over a pub entrance advertising Budweiser Budovar. We had noticed several of these signs around the city and I’d wondered if it were possible that this small Czech city was the birthplace of the world-famous Budweiser beer. Vanessa found a Budweiser museum on the map and we excitedly decided to suss it out. We had arrived just in time to look around the exhibitions before the English tour of the factory started- yes, the museum was located at the site of the factory! The museum was great fun; we began inside a giant model of a brewing tank and proceeded inside a fake elevator that made it seem like we were dropping 300 m into the Earth, where they pumped fresh water back to surface to use in the fermentation process. Each room had a projector which played a movie in several languages. I learned that Budweiser Budovar was the original Budweiser and that an American had patented the name before the Czechs could. The American Budeweiser is a completely different (not as good) beer than the Budovar counterpart. If you want to try Budweiser Budovar in America, it’s sold under a different name.

The factory tour was amazing for the meagre price of £2! There were only four of us in the English speaking group; almost nobody compared to the couple dozen in the German speaking group. Figures, of course the Germans would come to a beer factory. This meant that when it came to trying fresh, unfiltered beer straight out of the tank, we had the luxury of drinking as many cups as we wanted. I also tasted the different types of malt used for making different types of beer; roasted malt for dark beer, normal malt for regular beer etc. Vanessa warned me not to try the hops (they give beer its bitter taste) and so I avoided the green flowers. After seeing the brewery, we were taken to a huge warehouse where the last steps of the production line were done. This was where the bottles were recycled, labelled and packaged into crates. The mess on the floor was shocking; broken glass was strewn everywhere and the frothy liquid from these bottles flowed all over the floor. The factory workers seemed unfazed by the hazardous conditions of the floor and concentrated on unblocking the machines when bottles fell out of place, a situation that occurred every few minutes. It chaos in here was in stark contrast with the calmness of the brewery.

Outside the factory stood walls and walls of crates filled with Budovar bottles. Special blue crates were used only for shipment to Australia. There was a map near the reception which showed the distribution of the bottles worldwide. Only a few countries remained untouched. Overall, the factory tour was very enjoyable and Vanessa said it was a hundred times better than the Starobrno (beer from Brno) tour and on the same level as the Pilsner Urquell (beer from Pilsen) tour. After the tour, we headed back to the main square and shared a pizza for lunch. I told Vanessa I’d never tried dark beer before (it’s not the same as strong beer guys!) and she recommended I get a dark Budovar as a souvenir. We happily walked back to the bus station, a little light-headed, and got on our 5 pm coach back to Brno. This spontaneous trip was a day very well spent indeed!

Photos: Zakopane

swathi — Thu, 16 Mar 2017 20:06:00 GMT

Photos of my first time skiing!

Epilogue

swathi — Tue, 14 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMT

I enjoyed writing this series so much that I wrote an extra two articles than the original seven I had planned! The biggest thank you undoubtedly goes to Arya for not only taking time out of her busy medic schedule to read all my articles, but also provide detailed feedback that enabled me to improve them so much more. It's not like we're both experts at writing and analyzing, but we certainly felt like it by the end of this 3 month journey. I also have to thank Sakthiya, Veena and Rachel for proofreading my articles and giving me positive feedback. Shout out to my family for supporting me (thanks Ma!) in every way possible, even if when translated to Tamil the articles are terrible- sorry Avva! All these wonderful experiences could not have been possible without Gleicy, who I miss terribly. We had the best adventure together and really hope we can have another one when I go to Brazil, or when she comes to India.

This will not be the end of my travel writing journey. From now on, I will write articles about every new place I visit. They may not be published as often as the articles in this Winter Holidays 16/17 series, but they will be occasional. I really hope I brought you, the readers, on my journey and that one day, you may take my advice into consideration when planning your own trips :-) After all, that's what travel writing is all about! Thank you all for your time and see you again very soon!

Love,

Swathi

Copen-healthy-hagen

swathi — Mon, 13 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Copenhagen (5th - 9th Jan)

My flight from Amsterdam landed an hour after Rachel's flight from London. When I exited the terminal she spotted me and came running to hug me. It was like a scene from a movie! We were so happy to see each other because the last time we were together was when we went on holiday to Cyprus in June last year. She was the only friend from UEA that I'd seen after I finished my second year. It was so good to catch up with her because I'd Skyped her barely twice since I'd left. It's not because I didn't have time, oh I had too much time on my hands. No, it was because the wifi in my guesthouse room is really weak and more honestly, because university life is much busier making it harder to find free time to Skype. So it felt like utter relief to talk with my UEA best friend because she brought a part of my UK home with her and we had a lot of memories to relive.

While we chatted away excitedly, Rachel was taking in her surroundings with admiration and awe. 'It's so easy to get around here!' she exclaimed. The metro trains were short, fast and high-tech; nothing compared to the long, overcrowded and insufferably hot conditions of the London Underground. I had experienced the same excitement when I boarded a double-decker train in Berlin; it was an other-worldly feeling because I'd never seen such modern trains before. We arrived at our station in 20 minutes and found Generator Hostel in another 15. Rachel had gone to Dubai a couple of weeks prior to our trip and it's safe to say Dubai and Copenhagen are two very different cities. Thus ensued frequent 'Wow, look at that!'s or 'This is so cool!'s from her end. It was amusing to watch because Copenhagen was the 8th Western European city I'd visited during my Christmas travels and there were many similarities between here and Berlin, for example. Her enthusiasm throughout our trip was refreshing and in those moments where she felt uncertain, I stepped in.

It was the first time she was staying in a hostel and I'd given her a briefing on what it would be like, but it's one of those things that you have to experience yourself. Mind you, this hostel was the biggest one I'd ever stayed in; 5 floors and an enormous lounge with multiple rooms. We didn't even need to go out every night because there was always something fun going on every evening. The first night we arrived, we watched a group play giant Jenga, another play darts and we just soaked up the atmosphere. Rachel got really lucky with her first hostel experience because out of the five that I'd stayed in, this was by far the best. We snuck into a photobooth and took some truly horrendous pictures and then proceeded to sit in a dark room with two huge screens displaying sports. When we checked in we found out that there would be a free 3 hour walking tour the next morning starting conveniently from our hostel. We spent the rest of the evening catching up and groaning about how disappointing it was that the other 6 beds in our 8 bedroom dormitory were occupied by British boys. We felt highly let down that they were staying during the same dates as us because we wouldn't be sharing stories of our different countries and becoming more, you know, culturally aware. It was especially sad for Rachel who felt like she hadn't even left the UK.

The next day was the coldest day Copenhagen had experienced in over a year. The – 6 degree weather was already challenging enough without having to walk outside for 3 hours in a row. But we'd signed up for the walking tour and it was too late to leave the group now. On the contrary, our guide was great and the tour was very educational. As I mentioned in my first article 'Christmas in Berlin', the best way to start a spontaneous holiday is to go on a free walking tour because you learn about the main attractions and get a hold of your bearings. Rachel had done more research about Copenhagen than me, which was a relief for a change. The poor thing couldn't handle the cold (I wasn't much better) and we both rushed to the nearest café during the short break in the middle of the tour. So far we had seen the City Hall, the Tivoli (an amusement park that was currently shut during the winter) and the house where Hans Christian Anderson (author of many famous fairy tales) used to live. The tour continued down the iconic Nyhavn street which is made up of colourful houses, apart from the white residence of the Prime Minister of Copenhagen. Nyhavn made a stunning transformation from a red light district to a popular tourist destination filled with fancy restaurants. In fact, if you go further into the harbour from Nyhavn you will find yourself outside Noma, voted the World's Best Restaurant four times.

The tour continued along the riverbank where we saw one of the most modern opera houses in the world. Unfortunately the architect declared it was his worst ever work, and indeed it did look like a toaster. The tour ended in the centre of the palace grounds and after we bought tickets for a Pub Crawl, we rushed to the Marble Church for shelter. On the way there we swore we saw the Royal Prince's wife and twins in a black SUV. We defrosted in silence for almost 30 mins before venturing out again to find the Little Mermaid. Our guide had told us it was voted second on the list of 'Most Disappointing Statues' but it was a must-see in Copenhagen. With my scarf wrapped all the way up to my eyes, we walked what seemed like forever to the rocky shoreline where the mermaid sat gleaming on a rock. It was...small. We took an obligatory selfie and headed back to the hostel to rest before our Pub Crawl. I must give a shout out to the Danish 7/11 supermarkets. They sold the healthiest food I had ever seen sold in any 7/11 (much healthier than Singapore) and we frequented our local one at least twice a day. Rachel was in love because she's a health and fitness nut and I can't complain about her good habits rubbing off on me. Granted, Copenhagen was an expensive city but eating in the 7/11's were still cheaper than eating in a restaurant.

The Pub Crawl was more like a Pub Walk because 3 of the 5 destinations were on the same street! I found this really funny because you usually walk for 10-15 minutes to get to the next pub. It was a fun night and there was a pole in one of the bars. One of us danced on it and I'll leave you to guess who. After a post-crawl meal at 7/11, we hit the hay and woke up to dull day. Rachel really wanted to visit the street food market on Paper Island but unfortunately it was closed during the winter. However, there was an open indoor market and we decided to go there for lunch. On the way we had quite a disturbing experience. We saw a large crowd marching down the middle of the road towards us holding signs protesting against Muslims and refugees. My normal reaction would have been anger, but the police cars and vans surrounding the crowd made me more nervous than anything. When we reached the end of the street the police were not letting pedestrians walk through the same way we had come. They beckoned us to pass them and that's when we saw several people dressed head to toe in white overalls with masks on their face jump out of the back of one of the police vans. Rachel and I were pretty scared at this point because they looked like they were the biological warfare version of a bomb squad. After watching for a while we decided we needed to get out of there and we arrived at the indoor food market.

I was blown away. Two huge glass warehouses stood side by side, draped in fairy lights. It looked magical from the outside, but even more so on the inside. Copenhagen is a healthy city; people travel on bicycles to work and are in generally good shape. The street food inside matched the dietary requirements for this lifestyle. We were on the hunt for Smørrebrød, a traditional open-faced sandwich topped with the freshest of ingredients. Of course, this stall had the longest line but it was totally worth it. After spending a couple of hours inside, we decided that the protest should have cleared up and we headed back to our hostel. That evening we played darts for the first time and met a few of the people we'd seen on the Pub Crawl. For a recovery day, it wasn't bad at all.

On the 8th we headed to Christianshavn, a rebellious small area on the other side of the Port of Copenhagen. This area did not follow the laws that the rest of Copenhagen followed and had demanded their own independence for years. They even had their own flag; red with three yellow dots. According to Wikipedia, the three dots represent the ''o's'' in ''love, love, love''. We spotted a large green wall painting and an archway which indicated the entrance to Christianshavn. When Rachel took a picture of the art, an animated woman demanded that she delete the picture because she was in it. This should have been the first warning of what we would find inside.. The whole residency looked like a rainbow had fallen over it; there was colour everywhere. We were lucky because the 30-year ban on photography inside Christianhavn had been uplifted in recent years. We found the main market in the middle of the area and every stall was selling marijuana. The drug is illegal in Copenhagen but as I mentioned, this little area did not like to follow the rules. We soon realized that this was a major pull for the Danish and we noticed we were surrounded by red-eyed single men. After this epiphany, we left.

I had messaged a Danish girl that I'd met during summer school last year about our visit and she said she'd definitely meet us when we came. She told us to come to Bastard Café, a very popular board game café. It's exactly what it sounds like; a café serving drinks, comfort food and an entire wall of free board games! It was like a dream come true. Rachel and I spent four hours with my friend and her boyfriend playing various Danish board games. It was the most fun I've had at a café and we didn't notice the time flying by. We thanked them for a wonderful evening and left in great spirits.

We'd both received discount cards for a canal tour during the free walking tour. After checking out, we headed to the Nyhavn Pier and boarded a heated boat. It was really lovely to be warm inside while seeing the sights through the windows of the boat. Nevertheless, we occasionally braved the cold in the front of the boat to get better pictures. We managed to see a few more attractions such as Paper Island, the Black Diamond (Royal Danish Library) and the Circle Bridge (designed by an award-winning architect). We left the boat at the Royal Palace to see the guard change which we were told would be a special version because the Danish Queen was home. The soldiers marched in, followed by the band, dressed in blue with huge black fluffy hats. It reminded me of the guards outside Buckingham Palace. They played three or four songs and it was the longest guard change I'd ever seen. Afterwards, we treated ourselves to an expensive lunch because it was our last meal in Copenhagen and my last meal on my Christmas holiday. I felt really sad that my 18 day trip was at an end and also really apprehensive about starting work again. But all good things must come to an end. My flight left an hour after Rachel's and before I knew it, I was back in Brno.

The End.

Photos: Krakow

swathi — Wed, 8 Mar 2017 07:13:00 GMT

Pictures of Auschwitz, Wieliczka Salt Mine and Krakow city centre