All Roads Lead to Rome (Eventually).

Hello everyone!

I am back in the good ole US of A*, but I need to finish recounting my travels. A brief recap: smog ruined my life in Turkey, so I missed my flight. One might suspect after we made it on our (new) flight, that chapter of my life would be complete. And one would be wrong.

*As this was posted. When I was writing it, I was in a lovely (sarcasm hand raised so fast it created a sonic boom) airport in Madrid.

After the Terror in Turkey…Is that too dramatic? Perchance. I’ll start over: Being frustrated and having lots of feelings *shudder*, Katie and I both ranted about missing our flight in our journals (Or rant books, if you will. I prefer that term.) for a long time. A solid hour of silence and writing only partially helped, so we began planning our time until our new flight left at 10PM. With eight hours to kill, it became a discussion of how long we would sit in one place before migrating because there is not a lot to do in airports especially sans Wi-Fi. Finally it was time to board and everything went well on the flight and we made it to Rome. Celebration time!

We grabbed a cab outside the Rome airport and shared with two old Italian ladies. The conversation occurred in three languages because we found out our cabbie, Claudio, could speak Spanish as well as English. I said it in my other Italy post, but there are definitely similarities between Spanish and Italian, so, to a degree, there was a level of understanding between us and the Italian ladies. Claudio was excellent in Spanish and English, so it was easy to understand him.

After our 50 euro ride, we made it to the hostel building and we climbed out. It was well after midnight, so Claudio waited to make sure we got into the building alright.

This section can be called “All Hell Breaks Loose: Part II.”

As you might guess from how our day went, no one answered when we buzzed the room. We kept trying but yeah, no. Wasn’t gonna happen. Fortunately, a man was going in the building so our cabbie talked to him and made it so all three of us could trail in behind him. We tramped up to the room to find out that while our hostel doesn’t have a curfew, that doesn’t mean there will be a receptionist at all hours of the night. So our options were to wait outside for maybe someone, sometime to show up or start knocking on the doors of hostels in the same building. We opted to knock on doors.

Lucky for us (Oh wait…), everything was full. Katie ended up mostly begging (in Spanish) an old Italian man for space in a corner of a hostel. Not even for a bed or anything, we just needed a roof in all honesty. Obviously, it was against all hostel rules or laws of the land or something to let us stay, but Old Italian Gentleman let us stay for a reduced price. We ended up sleeping at a table in the tiny lobby for five hours.

When I say “sleep” that is generous. There were other occupants who came in at all hours of the night and desks are quite comfortable. Yeah… Despite this, all of my faith in humanity is restored. Our cabbie gave us his card and I am nearly positive he would have let us stay in his house or driven us somewhere else had we needed it. Old Italian Man gave us pillows and soap and a shower made me feel like a real person again. The day and night were terrible, but people are good.

After a refreshing night of sleep (Ha.), we headed to a different hostel at 7 AM to check in and actually start the day. Our room wasn’t ready, but we stored our things and ate breakfast and it somewhat revived us. On our two/three hours of sleep, we headed out to the Vatican for mass. We read somewhere that mass started at 9 AM, so we got there a little early to get good places and because we had nothing else to do. (Except sleep…I don’t know how we function.)

Unfortunately, mass didn’t really start until 10:30 AM. There was some singing and mass-y sort of things going on from 9-10:30, but it was pretty clear it wasn’t particularly significant because all of the Italians were chatting with each other and cracking jokes. Because of our recent streak of luck, it was raining during almost the entire service and neither Katie nor I had an umbrella. But Italians are my favorite people because they shared and would jostle us forward to get into position under the canopy of umbrellas. One lady even gave us an extra for a while.

Sidenote: “Umbrelli” said with a super thick Italian accent is possibly the best word ever. I heard it a bazillion times and will never get sick of it.

We were pretty exhausted by the time Communion occurred because we had been standing in the rain for about three hours, listening to another language and being overwhelmed by the crowds. This was made better by two things. One was, obviously, seeing the Pope and having him drive his little Pope-mobile through the crowds. Because I am smallish, a bunch of Italian ladies shoved me up to the front. Southern hospitality has nothing on All Italians. The second occurred while waiting for the Pope. Katie and I had both noticed an extremely attractive guard, and it seemed we weren’t the only ones. It was hilarious to hear all the little, old Italian ladies chattering among themselves with the recurring word “Novio” or boyfriend. If that can’t make your day, I don’t know what can.

After mass, we raced back to the hostel to change clothes and head out once again because there was so much to see. Katie grabbed her umbrella and we got some food from a Mini-Mart and it seemed almost as though we never left the Vatican because we were back so quickly. We ended up in a massive line to see Saint Peter’s Basilica, which was well worth the wait. It was adorned with so many different colors of marble and shnazzy statues and gold and extravagance. Etc. Etc. (We know how I feel about descriptions by now.) So pictures!

Like any good monument, it had a place you could climb up: the dome. The climb wasn’t so bad until everything started being sideways to follow the curve of the roof. I was okay until we came out and were able to look down into the church from the dome. I can remember the feeling of my stomach just dropping and dropping and drop p i n g…After that, I stayed as close to the wall as I could until we climbed back outside. I’m fairly certain Katie was amused because she didn’t realize I had a slight phobia of falling to my doom.

We had been inside long enough for the weather to clear up, so we decided to head to the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain to complete the day. We climbed all of the steps which was a challenge because my legs didn’t feel like being legs after standing so much early in the morning. In addition, I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of the number of tourists in one place. We sat on the steps to relax a bit before strolling over to the Trevi. Like all good tourists in Italy, we stopped for gelato first, because gelato. Mint gelato and famous monuments. Nothing better. We took some classic pictures of throwing coins into the fountain (One coin to return to Rome, two to find love in the city and three doesn’t matter because the first two are all you need. I wished for my Vatican guard boyfriend.)

Because we had gotten very little sleep and had been on our feet all day, exhaustion ensued. We decided to go get some dinner by our hostel but this ended up being a lot of wandering in search of the Perfect Place. When we found a place and got our food, Katie did all the talking because she could function and I was brain dead. When we finally left, our legs were stiff so we walked (Really it was limped) like goons back to the hostel. I remember saying, “I think I slept funny last night because my back hurts,” and then remembered I actually slept at a desk which probably counts as sleeping funny. Maybe this is why everything was hurting, hmmm?

We went to bed early because lack of sleep from the night before was killing us. Or tried to. I distinctly remember locking myself in a bathroom which made bedtime a little later. So it goes.

I Too Tired

Dear readers, I am going insane in this airport. I have begun rewriting that one Robert Frost poem about woods and snowiness because of the line “And miles to go before I sleep.” Want to read it? Of course you do!

Whose wi-fi this is I think I know

He's guarded it with a password though.

He must have some idea I'm here,

So I can't steal it and that blows.

My brain has gone a little weird

Because there are no people near.

My mind and body start to ache

As though I've sat here for a year.

I give my little legs a shake

Thinking there is some mistake

My foot has fallen fast asleep

End the tingling for heaven's sake.

This airport makes me want to weep,

But I have a flight to (HOPEFULLY) keep

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep.

 

That’s 6AM poetry of a madwoman for you. Carry on with the rest of my Roman Holiday.

Because there was so much to do in Rome, we were up again way too early the next day as well. We were met with beautiful drizzle like the morning before because that must be how Rome rolls. Katie and I got up so early for more standing in the lines. Yay! We walked over to the Vatican museum and got into an enormous mass of people to wait almost three hours before entering. Despite my complaints about lines, everything we saw was well worth it. There were tons of religious paintings, naked statues (Classic) and random artifacts throughout the museum. Also, someone needed to tell the painters how to paint babies because baby Jesus was terrifying in all of the paintings of him. I get nightmares.

The crowning jewel came at the end: Rafael’s School of Athens fresco and *trumpets*

Do do do do do doooooooooooooooooo!

The Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo was a genius in both painting and sculpture and this shows it. It was awesome to just stand and stare for a while because you could keep discovering details. And details. And oh, some more details. No pictures were allowed though, so go buy your ticket to Rome! This is a joke…but really. Just do it.

To get out of the rain and fill our grumbling bellies, we hopped over to the nearby pizza place. Sitting is the nicest thing I will ever experience in my life. Maybe a little travel here and there too. But mostly sitting.

We continued our search of Super Famous Stuff by walking (busing? I can’t remember…UGH) over to the Coliseum. I was very excited to see this because Gladiator is the greatest movie ever. Okay, really good. Maybe not quite the greatest. As per usual, rain occurred while we were there but we had already taken some good pictures and seen most of it by the time that happened. It was spectacular to see because of how amazingly, mind-bogglingly old it is. And history! And time! Whoa, guys was I excited for a second.

With our ticket to the Coliseum, the Roman Forum was also included. These were some spectacular ruins across from the Coliseum that don’t get enough attention for how cool they are. It was more of the history/time nerdiness coming out for this entire place because my imagination goes crazy in these types of places. Why don’t ya got any ruins, Minnesota?

We wandered around these quintessential Roman ruins until an announcement came that the park was closing. The first exit we got to was already locked, so my legs were loving me by the time we made it back to the original entrance.

I am fairly certain we went to the train station one of these days to purchase tickets for the rest of our journey. I can’t remember which day, but it took up some of our afternoon. We can say it was this day. Yup.

After, we went out to eat and I remember none of this. All I have written about it in my notebook is “Okay pasta.” So I had some okay pasta. And I guarantee you we went to bed after that, once again walking with our too-stiff legs from our walking-around-so-much-how-can-legs-feel-like-this day.

 
The next day, we woke up late. Nope, early again. We had a train to catch but decided to stop by the Pantheon first. On our way, we stumbled upon a really cool piazza with a fountain by someone famous depicting river gods and four continents. It was fun to guess which were which but we had Not Enough Time, so we kept walking to the Pantheon. This was fascinating because it was once dedicated to ancient Roman gods and now is Christian and the fact that something in such good condition has been around so long is crazy. Crazy I tell you! (Like me at this point. Airports, am I right?)

We grabbed our stuff from the hostel and made it to the train station well before our departure, thank everything holy. There was a nearby church with a fancy sculpture Katie wanted to see, so we dragged our stuff through the drizzle and went into the church one at a time, with one person guarding the keerap outside. Apparently the sculpture was in a different church, so some nice Italian gent escorted Katie there and back before we raced off to the station again.

A train ride brought us to a new city and it was time to find our hostel, which is always a fun game. Our directions took us through a rather large outdoor market, and I can’t think of a better place to drag my gigantic suitcase. That might not be accurate. To add to it when we got to our hostel, there was no elevator. So. Many. Stairs. God bless the Italians for carrying my suitcase up three flights of stairs.

After getting settled, we went back out to go to the largest church in the city, the Duomo. It was built a long time ago (Surprising) but the entire fancy façade was added much later. Pictures will help you understand. This inside was surprisingly bare except for the dome and a counterclockwise clock. I want one. As a good Cathedral, there was a tower we climbed for a great view of the city.

We (I) had had enough excitement with heights, so we went to the market and both bought items. I splurged and purchased an Italian leather purse because I needed a new bag and there will never be a better time. We got all our shopping done surprisingly quickly and knew of a place across the river to watch sunset. We had the first major navigation error where we walked parallel to the river for a good half hour before we realized we were getting nowhere. Oops. Luckily, there was still enough time to get to the top and enjoy (with all the other tourists) the sunset. Magnificent, as always.

We wandered on that side of the river to find a restaurant that had been recommended to us, but alas, were unsuccessful. Luckily, the ravioli I ended up getting at the Random Restaurant was still quite good. Walking back proved almost as difficult as finding the sunset spot and we got lost again. Le sigh. It was bedtime after we made it back because tired. (That is a terribly formed sentence. Forgive me. 2AM in an airport is not my best time.)

We awoke early in the mornin’ to see the best sight in all of Florence. We ate a quick breakfast of pastries and then journeyed to the Academia, another museum. We started off learning about old-time musical instruments because they have great names (Hurdy-gurdy. That’s a thing.) and we could sit and enjoy the music. Everything else after was religion-y and sculpture-y, good but not excellent until we saw it. The David was easily the best piece of art in Florence. There were unfinished Michelangelo sculptures leading up to it, so you can really appreciate what a genius he was. I wasn’t allowed photos of the real thing, so I have some with a fake David we found in a piazza. He is less cool. Sorry, fake David.

We stared at him (What can I say? He’s an attractive statue) for a long while and then left to do something we couldn’t in Rome: ENJOY FREE TIME. I missed you so! So I am too excited for the Do Nothing part of traveling, and Rome was great but absolutely exhausting. Sitting in our room napping and talking with our Canadian roommates was a great change of pace. Katie and I lazed for a few hours and later meandered around (window shopping for our engagement rings) until it was time to eat again.

We went out to a great place that was in Katie’s guidebook and had one of my favorite meals and it stood out even with all the pasta I’ve eaten in the last week and a half. On a whim, we bought a bottle of champagne from a store after dinner and took it down by the river to chat and relax. The night was excellent and we decided to head back and call it a night.

The night changed for the more exciting when we got back. We had met a guy, Lee, from our hostel and Alice (or Alex? Katie and I still aren’t sure which), who both wanted to go out for the night. We headed to a couple of bars which meant I had a grand total of one bright-pink passion fruit margarita. Poor Lee, drinking a pink margarita and getting told he could be “one of the girls.” We bar hopped until we found a place with some classic American music (Don’t Stop Believin,’ much?) and stayed until it closed and then got gyros. All in all, we were out until 4AM. We put the kibosh on waking up early the next day to go to the food market.

Well, dear readers, we are almost done with my time abroad. Next post will be about Cinque Terre and Venice and then…That is everything. Wow.

Stay tuned!

Rest & Relaxation

So we meet again, Buzz Lightyear. It's been one of those weeks

Sorry, I wasn't feeling like saying "Hola" or "Hello" this time. So I thought I should just throw in some Toy Story to spice things up a little. Because this will be a fairly vanilla (read bland) post today. My humblest apologies.

The most exciting news of the week: my plane ticket got switched, so I am for sure staying in Europe, never to return. Just kidding. I'll be in the lengthy process of coming back on May 14th. So watch out, America, because you forgot what a great thing you were missing. I would like to thank my Mommy for here patience in regards to the Travel Situation because she has been amazing in changing my ticket. I've also ran into some issues buying a plane (and a boat!) ticket, so she was able to call the credit card company and get all of that sorted out for me. Can she get a round of applause please? *Thunderous applause via the Intranets*

Okay, now to the excitement that was this week. Or not. This is going to be a short post, but I'm going to do my best. Just hang in there! For my Art in Toledo class, we went to the Cathedral here (I mentioned that Mams, Claire and I went there last weekend but shhhh...! We are going to ignore that for the time being). I'm actually glad I got to go again because there are a few things I think the audio-guide didn't know that my teacher did. The first time I went, I didn't realize that our Cathedral was the first one built in Spain. I can now check Visit the Oldest Cathedral in Spain off of my bucket list.

Before I continue, I need some sustenance. I'll be back in five; I need a Twix. You guys can all get settled and comfy while I'm gone. Cool? Cool.

I'm back! I think I eat enough Twixes that my maid judges me based on how often she finds the wrappers in the trash. Tis life, I suppose.

Like I previously stated, I really enjoyed the Cathedral, but I am also quite aware of my own idiocy and/or laziness. I might've worn flip-flops to a building where "it is colder inside than outside." (I'm pretty sure that's an actual quote from my professor.) I was happy to leave by the end because my toes have a tendency to turn purple when they are cold. Poor circulation much? Another note on laziness: I've woken up early enough for breakfast everyday this week. I made it down to the cafeteria once. My stomach hates me.

Friday afternoon involved going to another museum for my Grandes Maestros class, so we headed off to Madrid to visit the Reina Sofia. In true Emily form, I fell asleep on the buses because that is what buses are for. Or something. Anyway, I woke up when we were in Madrid and kept trying to convince myself we weren't that close because I really wanted to finish my nap. Unfortunately, the bus killed the dream I dreamed and it was time to wake up for museum time. This museum wasn't necessarily my favorite because it focuses more on modern paintings and we went specifically to see those of Picasso and Dali. And they don't fall under the Emily's Favorite Painters category. Van Gogh holds the top spot (although Dali was pretty crazy too, but less in a I-will-cut-my-ear-off-to-give-to-a-girl way and more in a I-will-call-my-autobiography-Diary-of-a-Genius way). Most of Dali's paintings were off in Paris anyway for some exhibition thinger, so we mostly saw Picasso's work. I know he is considered Super Good, but the only painting I really found interesting was Guernica, which I had seen eight gajillion times in other classes. To be fair, I hadn't really been impressed by it until I saw it in person and then I found it much more interesting. So it goes.


Now I have very little left to talk about, but I will still try to make it worth reading. This weekend was rather a non-event; simply me doing homework and planning my trip and being frustrated when websites won't take my money. (They can have this attitude if they give me my ticket. If they jack up the price 20 euros between times I try to pay though, I get irate.) In order to not end up in my room going crazy (crazier) from technology, I play a kind of weird game. (Intrigued?)

But more back-story first. In the past two blogs, I've commented on how I became the fearless navigator and leader due to...stuff. Either way, this is generally a poor life decision because I've never been known to be good at finding places. For a frame of reference: when I first got my driver's license, I needed directions from 11 year old Claire to get to a pizza place in my hometown. That is how terrible of a decision it is to let me be in charge of directions.

Anyway, I play this game where I go to streets of the city I know and then turn off at random interesting-looking streets (People from back home: Toledo is super safe, so don't worry that Emily is doing something crazy and is going to die in Spain. I promise, it is completely safe. Cross my fingers and hope to die and all that jazz). I turn off onto other interesting looking (There are people there! It isn't some back alley where you know serial killers hunt or whatever. Please stop being nervous. It is A-OK, I promise promise promise) streets until I have, at best, only a vague idea of where I am. As you may remember, I live in a literal labyrinth. So it becomes a Find Your Way Back kind of game (I don't go that far....I've scared you all with my living on the edge and bad-assery, haven't I? I swear I live a safe, normal lifestyle). This is also an excellent decision when I'm getting caught up in the I-have-homework-I've-procrastinated-on-and-I-need-plane-tickets-and-the-website-won't-work-stress-stress-stress sort of thoughts. I've come to realize I get caught up in my anxieties and overall my interior stress levels are a lot higher than people might think (because I always appear calm, cool and collected. Obviously). So this is a good stress reliever as well as gets me some exercise because Toledo believes in hills.

Honestly, this was more or less how my week went: hanging out, homework and wandering. It was a good change of pace from the perpetual tramping of Spring Break. Hopefully I'll add some pictures later today for you to enjoy. Don't be too scared of my daring boldness in the Lost Game.

Until next weekend!

It's Like a Postcard From Paris When I've Seen the Real Thing

Dear  ____________,

Thank you for your interest in this public blog. We know you enjoy this free programming, and we here at Emily Is Abroad would like to continue to make your days as enjoyable as possible.  With this in mind, we are here to give you an opportunity to donate to our cause and keep the traveling going.  You will receive an exciting gift with each donation over 10 euros which include pictures and a sassy blogging experience.  Also, you will receive a monthly subscription to uh....a magazine! And a free um....something.  Surprise. A free surprise!

Best Wishes,

Emily Is Abroad, Inc.

This might be the exact script from PBS when they want your money. I'm not entirely sure though.  

So I just got back from Paris, and you may have guessed it was a little spendy. But definitely worth it. Vale la pena, if you will. (That's "worth it" in Spanish).  As I didn't post yesterday due to travel tiredness, I will try to catch you up.

Thursday:

After class ended, we (five of us, including myself) headed to Madrid to stay in a hostel.  We had an early flight (7 am) and decided to get something to eat (also free Margaritas much?) and then go to bed early. This wasn't entirely successful as we weren't necessarily interested in sleeping when we could be talking and joking instead. So it goes.

Friday:

PARIS! Actually, this involved waking up reaaaaal early, like 3:45 am early, to get to the airport and go through security to catch our flight.  We took a taxi to the airport and made it through security in record time, which meant we ended up sitting in an airport terminal exchanging embarrassing stories for a few hours before our flight.  I slept for most of the flight, but when I talked to the flight attendants, I spoke in Spanish....which was wrong. We booked with Air France so they speak French. Duh.

Mona Lisa. Obvs.

When we landed, we had to deal with the Paris airport. Which was probably the worst part of the entire journey because there weren't any unconfusing indications of how to actually get into Paris. The airport is outside the city a little, so we needed to take the metro, but we originally bought the wrong tickets and the lines were super long and the world is not a wish-granting factory. It took us three hours to make it to our hostel because there are exactly eight thousand metro lines and you need to switch stations and actually go the right direction (we got a little turned around) to make it into the city. When we finally made it, we were starving, and I ate the best pizza of my life at a French restaurant before checking into our hostel. The pizza was big and delicious and mmmmmmm. No words.

Creepy/Cool Catacombs

After leaving our stuff in the hostel, we made a quick decision to visit these catacombs near(ish) our hostel.  Before coming to Paris, I didn't even know these catacombs existed, but they were really cool to see.  They were underground quite a ways, so we had to take a million spiral stairs down, and I was quite dizzy by the time we got to the bottom. As we walked through the tunnels, there were dates inscribed on the walls, usually from the late 1700s or early 1800s. Which is almost as old as our country, no big deal.  The catacombs had been used as a mass burial ground for people who couldn't afford a more expensive one.  So towards the end, we saw all the skeletons and skulls which was both interesting and....I can't find the word. I talked about mortality and time in another post, but I had those same feelings again down there.

Ba da ba ba ba: I'm Louvre-n it!

After the catacombs, we went back to the hostel. We got lost for a while on the way back, but luckily I wasn't the navigator or we might never have made it. When we got back, it was time to relax for a little bit until we could head out to see the Louvre. The museum is free after 6 pm so when the time came we, once again, took the metro to it. (Sidenote: I spent a small fortune on the metro this weekend but even I know how to use the Parisian metro system now.)


The Louvre was absolutely incredible.  It has a ton of interesting sculptures and some of the most famous pieces of art in the world. (Mona Lisa, anyone?) We spent about three hours there, looking for the most interesting pieces including: the Aphrodite sculpture, Ramses II, a medieval moat (how do you get one of those in a museum?!?), the apartment of Napoleon (fancy) and many, many more paintings, sculptures, works of art, and ancient um...stuff.

We took eight million pictures there, both inside and out because the place is beautiful. All of it. I miss my Louvre already.

Napoleon's Apartment. Can I live here?

After, we took the metro (this phrase will show up more, I promise) to our hostel and went to look for a place nearby to eat. In true Spaniard fashion, we didn't eat until after ten at a place where I had probably my first or second salad with real dressing (not olive oil) of the trip. Oh how I missed you, dressing. Also, free water. Neither Spain nor Portugal give free water at restaurants, so it was exciting (no joke) to get that in France.  We walked back to our hostel and headed to bed after being awake for far too long.   

Saturday:

My first minutes of consciousness on Saturday were due to a fire alarm. It was, to say the least, unpleasant, and included me pulling pants over my shorts, grabbing my bag and coat, losing an earring and not being able to see due to no glasses. I've had better mornings. Also, my dislike of smokers continues to grow. After the alarm, we ate breakfast at the hostel, which was cereal, a mini french baguette with jam, and hot chocolate.  The cereal was absolutely delicious because it was like a chocolatey version of Honey Bunches of Oats with mini white and milk chocolate chips. The French know how to breakfast.

After breakfast we split into two groups, where half of us went to buy things we needed (a camera charger and new boots) and the others went to the impressionist museum, Musee d'Orsay. I went to the museum and am so glad I did. It was free because we are students, and that made it even better. We couldn't take pictures so you get to use your imagination: yay! There were some really famous paintings there too, and my favorites include all of Van Gogh's (I don't care if he was crazy, he's my favorite!) and Monet's works. Also, the pointillism ones were absolutely fantastic. Go to the Google machine if you want to check them out.

After the museum, we all met up and headed to the Champs Elysee, which is the big shopping area in Paris and where the Arc de Triomphe is. At one point we walked right outside Paris Fashion Week and saw Jessica Chastain, (a super famous actress who was in The Help and recently Zero Dark Thirty) so that was pretty cool. We took a ton of pictures by the Arc and were incredibly touristy.

We next went out to eat and I had delicious French crepes. They reminded me of the fam but were too delicious for me to be homesick. I would conservatively estimate I had roughly 39174928yr9 crepes on this trip because they also had them for free at our hostel (with just sugar and butter like at home!)

I am actually terrified in this picture. This is my brave face.

After eating we went to the Eiffel Tower. I need to preface this with childhood memories. As a young'n, we went camping quite a few times each summer. At many of these places there would be lookout towers you could climb to see the entire area, so they were incredibly tall. Now as a young child, I had a very big problem. I could make it up one, maybe two of the levels before I freaked out completely and had to stop. These towers were really tall and I could make it only like twenty feet in the air. Not so high. Remember this.

For some reason we decided to climb the Eiffel Tower and took the trusty metro to get there. Thankfully, we could only climb to the second level. Unfortunately this is still incredibly high and the entire time I was climbing, I thought I would throw up. I know there is supposedly some courage required to face your fears and all that jazz, but if someone said to me: Emily, you have a choice. You can climb the Eiffel Tower again or can get shot in the kneecap. These are (for some reason) your only options.

I would choose getting shot. That is how I feel about heights. So now you know I'm a chicken... Despite my complaining and fear, the view was incredible. It was a cloudy day and everything but still worth the climb. It was so beautiful that I could almost forget about those stairs. *Shudder* We came back again later that night to see it all lit up, and that was even better. They have it light up extra with sparkly lights once an hour so we stuck around to see that too. Even though it's a cliche/touristy monument, it is worth it to see. Go book your tickets to Paris now!

We cooked our own dinner when we got back (metro again) to our hostel. It was a late dinner, 11pm-ish, so I can tell I'm getting used to the late Spanish schedule. We packed up everything and went to bed to prepare for our journey back the next day.

Sunday:

Paris (and me) at night. Shnazzy.

Oh, Parisian metro, what did I ever do to you? Sunday was, at best, hectic. We were pros at the metro system by the time we left the city, but apparently we didn't budget our time properly on Sunday. We checked out of our hostel at about 9:30 am so we had three hours to get to our plane, but that almost wasn't enough.  The subway took way longer than we anticipated and we ended up having to take a bus as well to get to the airport. By the time we got there, we were running through the terminals like the guy runs after the girl in every good chick-flick. We also were able to get through security quite quickly because adrenaline. Thankfully, we all made our plane despite minor separations and setbacks regarding the metro taking its sweet time.

I'm going to save you the trouble of reading an 8-9 hour day of travel: metro, metro, bus, plane, metro, metro, bus, feet, THE FUND. Never have I been so happy to see my dorm.

I'm not going anywhere this weekend so I fear my next blog will be less exciting. Lo siento.

Ciao for now!

P.S. Claire, the Batman shirt made it to Paris!

The One Where I Climbed Mt. Everest. (True Story)

Hola, familia y amigos! (I couldn't figure out how to do an upside down exclamation point, so that doesn't get to go before that sentence. Lo siento.)

I am incredibly sleepy (it's about 1:36 am, hence this feeling). Unfortunately, I didn't take a siesta today so that also amplifies the feeling. So onto (on to?) this week.

Chocolate con churros

We went to Madrid again this weekend to visit El Museo del Prado for my art class to see paintings by El Greco and Velazquez. Before we left in the morning, we went out to eat and got churros with chocolate which were delicious. Later in the afternoon, we took a bus to the museum. The bus ride is about an hour and I slept most of the way on account of Waking Up Early, which is against most of my principles. When we got to the museum, they gave us these shnazzy (that's an exaggeration) one way walkie-talkies so our instructor could talk to us about the paintings and we could actually hear. The whole place was pretty cool and I wish my art skills were as impressive. Cameras weren't allowed inside so no pictures of them unfortunately. Google, my friends. Google.

Up, up, up Mt. Everest

Today, I went hiking with my friends. The route of Don Quixote is right outside the city, so we took part of that until, for some reason, we decided to leave the trail. Which will most definitely result in soreness tomorrow. We descended/stumbled (mostly stumbled) down a rather steep hill to get to the bottom of a super pretty valley. Pictures will be added to this post, so don't worry, you'll get to see it. And then, for some other mysterious reason, we decided to cross the little valley thing and climb up up up Mount Everest. No joke. (For those of you saying Mt. Everest is in Nepal: it's a conspiracy. I swear). It was probably an 85 degree angle (I don't believe in exaggerations) slope to get up the mountain and I definitely used my arms more than was appropriate to keep climbing. When we finally (it's big, Mt. Everest. Biggest in the world, actually) approached the summit, it was absolutely breathtaking. Which isn't an exaggeration because we were pretty out of breath.

The mountain (okay, large hill) is on located on the other side of the Tajo (Pronounced Tahoe, like the truck. Or is it an SUV?) River from Toledo, so we had a fantastic view across and could see the entire city. I'll attach pictures tomorrow, but I need to find my camera and let's be real: it's 1:59 am, so that ain't happening now. But they'll blow you away. The pictures won't do the view any justice, but they'll help. We also were able to see an actual path up the hill which made us pretty dumb for climbing up the hard way. It happens to the best of us. After a mini photo shoot, we headed back to the Fund and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon.

Going out for drinks and tapas

Tonight we went out to a couple of bars and just hung out. Minnesotans: we were sitting outside eating tapas (appetizers, more or less). In February. Needless to say, the weather is an improvement. I need to get some sleep for the hard day ahead of me tomorrow: laundry and homework. Very, very difficult my friends. (Also necessary as I've been re-wearing socks for probably three or four days now. It happens to the best of us.)

Buenas noches.