Rainy Day

Location Update

We’re in Munich! We arrived late last night to a hostel called “The Tent.” It has been raining all morning, but it finally stopped. Time to explore the city.

Items Lost of Discarded

Chris’s very nice (but bulky) poncho

My let’s Go: Europe travel book

A Nalgene water bottle

The cardboard Wilbur cutout L

What do People like in Budapest?

Answer: The Walking Dead

Minor Statistics [before Budapest]

Average daily walking distance: 6.5km (4 miles)

Estimate # of times public transportation* was used: 28

Locations where public transportation was used: Madrid (1), Barcelona (1), Basel (26)

# of times Ryanair was used: 3

# of times international trains were used: 2

# of times regional rails were used: 8

# of times inter-city buses were used: 5

*Public transport accounts for local buses, subways, and light rails. It does not account for regional rails or international trains

Sayonara: Saying Goodbye

Chris and I are traveling through places so quickly and meeting tons of new people along the way. We get only a glance of the entire picture. While we try to see as much of the city as possible, we always miss certain aspects that are said to be incredible. We didn’t make it to the Swiss Alps. We ran out of time and had to skip an amazing museum in Madrid. We just couldn’t find a way to slip into a kayak and paddle around the Baltic Sea.

Of course, we don’t expect to pull off the grand tour in every city we pass through. As we circumvent portions of the places we wished to see, I can’t help but think that I will visit these spots again, without a fat backpack, and take my hours and minutes slowly to really soak up what characterizes each country. For now, the amount of seconds between the handshake and goodbye-hug are too few. But, this trip isn’t a novel- it is a series of short vignettes. It is about exploring and adventuring and most importantly, leaving the lowest quantity of regrets in the tank.

This thought of goodbyes makes me contemplate lost friends and those that are drifting away. It comes across as an emotional maelstrom and I can’t say I am an expert at handling and working out my emotions. Sure, I pride myself on how I can logically and rationally process information. But when it comes to feelings, I’m out in a forest, no compass, and I can only hope to push, push, and push in the right direction. In the end, I am disappointed by my own reception to my sentiments and how I respond to them.  I find that the balance between emotional and logical evaluation is a mastery few have obtained. Those that have this balance are recipients of a trophy or reward associated with the professional control of yin and yang.

My best friend lives in Arizona. At the moment, our lives are progressing in alternate directions. We struggle to say goodbye. No matter how many times we utter the word or phrase and no matter how many different ways we say it, we find ourselves talking and laughing again in the next few weeks or months. We’ve shared a hell of a lot and we know each other too well to just disappear, and in the end I believe this is what always pulls us back. I’ve processed the situation multitudes of times with logic and emotion, but it is a battle on a mental front that never sees a winner. I find it funny that the pathways we can’t imagine meshing together continue to intertwine. Sometimes, I wonder if goodbye is the correct choice.

Instead of mourning over a complete goodbye, I would rather say “See you later.” I think this is better. Just like with the cities we pass though, I don’t want to close off the people I meet (especially those I know best) for good. I want to see them again and give them a wonderful hug. I want to hear all about how they’ve changed and listen to every new detail in their lives.

But then again, maybe the loss (or breaking of) that connection is why goodbyes are so hard?

Jack: Making Friends

The first hostel that Chris and I stayed at in Stockholm was called 2Kronor. We made it there a little after 17:00, checked in, and fell into the nice comfortable catch of the bunk beds in the dorm room. It was a wonderful change from the previous night, which I spent awkwardly sleeping against the side of a chain-link fence in a park.

Shortly after we settled, a guy who had been staying at the hostel for a few days already walked in. Around the same height as me, wavy blond/brown hair, good shape, wearing a blue jacket. We shook hands and said our hellos. His name was Jack. He was 22 and had just graduated from a school near Orlando, Florida, but his hometown was just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. I have to say, it was great to see an American, especially a friendly one.

We grabbed dinner at a restaurant that was approximately thirty feet from our hostel- they had a special where you could get a burger, fries, and a beer for under 90 SEK. Our other dorm mate, a scientific, tall and skinny blond dude from Estonia, joined us too. His name was Ott (pronounced: Oh-ight). I felt a little bad for Ott though, as he couldn’t keep up with our conversation. We talked about a bunch of American things (like Jimmy  Kimmel and the NBA Playoffs) and while I did my best to fill Ott in on what he didn’t understand, I could tell he was out of place. After dinner, he hung out with us a short while longer before heading back to the hostel to retire.

Jack, Chris, and I went on to explore the city and we ended up at this new microbrewery, Brew Dog. I have a coaster from the place, it’s pretty sweet.

We sat next to a pair of Sweden guys who were big on skiing and laughing. Ultra-friendly and welcoming, they immediately began conversing and joking around with us. One looked incredibly similar to Gerard Butler (even his hand motions and the way he leaned his elbow on the table).

Anyway, we eventually glanced at the menu. It was an in-your-face kind of thing, with sentences challenging your manhood, saying that you wouldn’t dare drink specific kinds of beers because they would be “too tough for you.” The place was a little expensive, though, so Jack, Chris, and I opted to each buy a single drink before heading out.

We read the menu as if it was a textbook and finally selected our beverages. We found these brews that were insanely high proof (34% and 42%) but really small quantity (5 centiliters). One was called the Tactical Nuclear Penguin and to be honest, I can’t recall the other one’s name. It was something feisty and related to a bird like a crow or falcon, I think. We drank the brews, as slow as you could for that volume, and all made quirky faces at the strength and flavor of the liquid. The Swedish Gerard Butler ordered a burger, which looked immensely tasty, but we left before he could remark on how delicious it was.

For the rest of the night, we hung out with Jack. It was a good change of pace for the two of us and he had his own wild stories to contrast ours. Jack is heading home soon, but before that he is doing one last tour the Netherlands. Best of luck in the future, and safe travels to the man from Boston.

Peace!

Sam