Resolution

I think it’s time to update my blog.

Turns out I’m not very happy sitting still. Figuratively speaking. I suppose literally, what I love most involves a lot of sitting.

Not even two months home from Europe and I’m beginning another trip…across my whole great nation. It seems like a small thing, but I guess it’s not. I guess most Americans don’t do this in their lifetime.

It’s funny. I’m not really an impulsive person. No one would choose “spontaneous” or even “flexible” as a word to describe me. Maybe adaptable. Yeah, that’s me.

But back to commitment. Every day that I’m driving, I’m going to stop and take at least one picture. Then I’m going to post it on my blog, maybe with nothing more than a caption. Sound good?

I’m also hoping to get up and run every morning before I drive…we’ll see which resolution lasts the longest.

So picture number one: the beginning of my journey is the end of the holiday season. It still feels like Christmas in the Colorado Springs airport, but tonight I bring in the New Year with my lovely former roommate Andie. Only five and half hours of driving until I reach her in Dolores, Colorado.

We’re going to party like it’s 2012. 

The Netherlands

There’s something with runners and us: when we arrived in Amsterdam, the city was overwhelmed by the excitement of a marathon. This was the third marathon we’ve encountered on our trip; we were in Berlin and Bremen during their annual marathons as well.

Navigating through hundreds of runners and spectators in an unfamiliar city is not easy. It took us over an hour to make contact with Martin Wright, our friend and chorus master at Amsterdam opera. And all the while, we were lugging our baggage. Curse you, huge rolling suitcase!!

Amsterdam was sunny and welcoming. We had a blast touring the city with Martin: enjoying Dutch pancakes, passing through the flower market (yes, they do sell ‘grow-your-own marijuana,’ and no, we did not purchase any), marveling at the architecture along the countless canals.

The most exciting part was when Martin offered to take us backstage of the opera house to view the last few minutes of the opera Elektra.

We didn’t know what we were getting in to as we entered through the side doors and made our way through the catacombs of the opera house. Martin took us up hundreds of dark, winding stairs on the side of the stage until we finally made it to the light fixtures. We sat 50 feet above the stage on the catwalk with the stage lights and had the best seats in the house.

The works of Richard Strauss can be disturbing, to say the least, and Elektra is no exception. I was blown away by the mad trilling of the strings (the best place to hear an orchestra is from directly above) as Elektra, having just persuaded her brother to help her kill her mother, screams with wild and deranged passion as she takes the knife in her brother’s hand and stabs herself with it. Wow. Amazing singers, amazing seats, amazing music. Wow.

Re-entering the sun was dizzying, but the rest of our day with Martin passed by cheerfully. We returned to the Amsterdam train station and headed for Rotterdam, where I reunited with my favorite Dutch person in the whole world: Gemmeke.

Gemmeke and I met when I lived in Busingen, where we shared many crazy experiences. I enjoyed reliving them with her as we sat in her flat with hot tea and stropwafels (heaven in a cookie).

We did some typical Dutch things with Gem, including eating lots of bread and sweets, getting hot stropwafels from the market, and riding bikes. Riding bikes was terrifying for Elisa and I and hilarious for Gemmeke.

In Holland, everyone bikes everywhere, so when Gemmeke suggested that we take bikes out to tour Rotterdam for the day, it didn’t cross her mind that Elisa and I are totally inept at such an activity. I was better off than Elisa, having had practice off and on over the years. Elisa hadn’t ridden a bike since she was eight. It took about 15 minutes of Elisa swerving through the streets by Gemmeke’s house and Gemmeke and I yelling, “You’re doing great!” to convince her to actually bike on public roads.

We made it all the way to the Euromast (where we had a great, but windy view of Rotterdam) in one piece, despite running into poles, falling off of our bikes after too-sharp turns, and nearly collapsing with our bikes on top of us every time we stopped. Like I said, more hilarious than a Colin Farrell movie for Gemmeke (though she was still albeit stressed that she would lead her friends to their deaths), and more nerve-wracking than the total anxiety of all our auditions thus far for Elisa and me.

We also accompanied Gemmeke to school for a day. Taking a detour from her medical degree, Gem is doing a semester of African studies. She’s working on her Swahili and preparing to head to Africa for a medical internship in February. Elisa and I got to experience Swahili language and African communication class, where we learned about sign language in Swahili. Taught in English. In a Dutch university.

We had the chance to hang out with Gemmeke's Christian student group in Holland. That was cool: we went to their sort of clubhouse, had dinner, had music and a sermon, and were served beer afterwards. So not Nazarene.

It was awesome to meet some other Dutch people our age and who were interested in real issues. And as usual with Gem and I, the discussions about life plans over coffee were in abundance.

Don't forget the pictures! Photobucket

The Bremen Town Musicians

I’m sitting on a train to Amsterdam, beginning a whirlwind of traveling for the next month and leaving my home of the last five weeks.

Bremen, Germany is an appropriate place for Christian, Elisa and me to have spent our time. The Brothers Grimm site Bremen as home of the famous “Town Musicians:” a donkey, dog, cat and rooster who, too old to continue their work on the farm, flee to Bremen to avoid the fate of too old farm animals and become musicians. The story is much more elaborate than this, but I can’t do it justice—wikipedia.

Mr. Randall Bills (tenor, on extended contract at Opera Theater Bremen) greeted us upon our arrival in Bremen and served as our guide, voice teacher, mentor, and friend (and landlord, in Christian’s case) during our stay. We got an inside look at opera in Germany through Randy.

Three operas viewed, two auditions attended, and several coachings received from Randy and friends definitely qualify us to be counted amongst the Bremen Town Musicians. We learned more than we would have in the same amount of time in grad school while having the opportunity to meet singers from all over the place (many of whom encouraged us to forget America and get our butts to Germany).

Things surely weren’t all business in Bremen, though. We had a lot of free time and were able to leisurely explore the city. The center of town was a ten minute walk away, via the main street or along the Weser River, where Randy and I would often run in the mornings.

Through the center was the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) and beyond that, the Burgerpark. In the Burgerpark, one can buy gelato or coffee, paddle down the streams running through it, visit some friendly pigs and llamas at the petting zoo, or just wander, admiring the trees that are beginning to put on their fall colors.

We met a lot of internationals through our host, Laura. Laura was kind enough to let Elisa and I sleep on her living room floor, as well as introduce us to her friends from France, England, Serbia, and Italy—all engineers whom she met in her German class. (There is a large center for engineering in Bremen...it's something like the second largest Airbus site and has a lot of space companies).

Laura is not an engineer, but an elementary school teacher. We looked forward to hearing stories about her students everyday. My favorites involved the message box installed in her classroom for kids to send private notes to her. These notes included: “Dear teacher, you look gud.” and “Do you lik dogs?” to name a few.

Laura also introduced us to our favorite Bremen haunt: Piano, a café and restaurant where cute rower boys serve you delicious breads, cheeses, meats and whatever else you can imagine to make up the perfect brunch. It was here that I recognized my addiction. To bread. Carb up!

Our other favorite place was Ikea. Ikea is magical, whatever city you may be in when you visit it. It’s the closest thing Europe has to an amusement park, and the food is even better! After walking through dozens of fashionably (and cheaply) furnished kitchens, bedrooms, and bathrooms, we bought our own bag of the infamous Ikea Swedish meatballs to make for dinner that night. Ikea is just the gift that keeps on giving.

Two nights before we left Bremen, Freimarkt began. Freimarkt is like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. It is a carnival in the States times eight hundred thousand. It celebrates the fall and lasts a seventeen days, after which the Christmas markets begin.

Bremen hosts the largest and oldest Freimarkt in Northern Germany. A seemingly inconsequential platz behind the Hauptbanhof is packed with food stands, rides, games, drinking tents and--over the course of these seventeen days--more than four million people. Overwhelming, to say the least, but such a sight to behold and such treats! Bratwurst, candied almonds, huge meat and cheese pretzels, gelato, chocolate apples and bananas and grapes, crepes, and candy comprise just a small amount of the deliciousness available. (Anyone noticing a common theme to my posts? Yeah, I love food, is this a problem?)

As if entering the Freimarkt itself isn’t enough like stepping foot in to another world, there is the Bavarian Tent. Bavaria is a region of southern Germany comparable to Texas: people are wealthy, wish Bavaria could be considered a separate country, and boast accents that the rest of the country mocks.

With enough people to be its own village, the Bavarian tent is loud. Everyone has beer (it’s served by the liter) and everyone is singing along with the band, oom-chucking away German drinking songs (children’s songs?)…all night. I didn’t last very long in the Bavarian tent, but I won’t soon forget it.  

I loved Bremen and hope to make it back soon, but now we’re off. I have to make it through Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Paris, Munich, Florence, Rome, and Geneva in the next three weeks and I am so ready.

Don't forget to visit Photobucket.

Jumping Over The Wall

Modernism, diversity, and history converge in Berlin. It is New York City, Tijuana, and Rome in one. My kind of city.

I acquired an S-Bahn/U-Bahn (subway, underground, tube) map and it was my close companion for the weekend. As we navigated our way through the city, we managed to get lost only once. You can’t really get lost when you start the day off with no plans. That’s how we explored for three consecutive days.

We got on the S-Bahn in the morning, ate a chocolate croissant at the station, and exited the train where we pleased. Our first day, we landed at the Tiergarten, Berlin’s Central Park. We saw the glass dome of the parliament building and then proceeded to walk into the park.

We happened upon Bradenburg Tor (we had no idea what we were looking at at the time), where we not only saw bronze chariots atop a grand archway that used to stand as a city gate of Berlin, but also a Starbucks and a group of break dancers putting on a show in the center of the square.

Bratwurst stands were in abundance, and we enjoyed our first taste before continuing on around the park. The park was home to monument upon monument, our favorite of which depicted the visages of our good friends Beethoven, Hayden, and Mozart.

We emerged from the shade of the linden trees of the park and reached yards of concrete jutting up from the ground: a memorial to the Holocaust.

The concrete coffins extended as far as the eye could see. As we walked through them, they got higher and higher, until they were well over twice our height, surrounding us on all sides. Standing in the midst of them was sobering. I felt that the designer instilled in me a sense of awe and dread appropriate to an event whose horrors still scar the face of this city. Of this country.

We got a glimpse of the more modern side of Berlin the next day. We sat in Starbucks below the needle of Alexanderplatz and listened to the tones of an aspiring pop artist. Musicians like this are all over Berlin, hoping to be discovered. We had the pleasure of hearing a violinist, an accordionist, and a classical singer situated under a tree, belting out the entirety of Schumann’s Fraueliebe und –leben.

I suppose my companions and I can be counted amongst this group of aspiring musicians; our whole reason for ending up in Berlin this weekend was an audition. For Elisa and I, it was our first of the trip. 

The audition was for an agent, and besides ending up in the middle of a kindergarten when looking for the practice rooms, it was un-traumatic. The agent offered us immediate feedback, but was deterred in offering us anything further due to our age. Figures. Our mettle remains firm and we look forward to more auditions coming up in the near future.

Berlin is home to many more historical buildings and sites, including the Victory Column (commemorating military successes), the Berliner Dom (Berlin's main cathedral, comparative to St. Peter's Basilica), and the Gendarmenmarkt (a large square and the site of the Konzerthaus framed on either side by the mirror images of the French and German Cathedrals).

A picture's worth a thousand words, so rather than explain these sites to you, check out the photos on Photobucket. 

One of our last sites was the Berlin Wall East Side Gallery. Almost one mile long, the remains of this stretch of the Berlin Wall include painted art: over 100 pictures by artists from all over the world. It is the largest open air gallery in the world. The images on its surface are a memorial to freedom, and a reminder to continue working towards a more universal freedom.

"She who wants the world to remain as it is, doesn't want it to remain at all."

Hopp Schwiiz!! (Hopp Liechtenstein?)

I am not good with trains. I am a confident traveler, but I guess we regress in stressful situations. The first time I had to speak German was at the train station, when Elisa and I couldn’t figure out how to buy a ticket using the automated machines and were forced to ask a real live human being. I was about as terrified as I used to be ordering a hamburger from McDonalds, (a highly anxiety-producing situation in my childhood), but I survived the encounter.

The real scare came later, on our journey to Bremen. We prepared to hop on a train in Schaffhausen, but I was having trouble lifting my heavy roller suitcase. All of a sudden, the train lurched forward. In retrospect, it was moving very slowly, but I was sure that it was about to leave Elisa and I behind. I gave up trying to lift my bag and urged Elisa, with her gazillion ton traveller’s backpack, to hop on first. The train was still moving and all I could think was “She’s on that train and it’s moving and I’m not going to make it on! How am I going to get to Bremen?!”

Panic-stricken, I cried, “Elisa, help me!” I think it was the most pathetic phrase I’ve ever uttered, because some random blonde man on the platform came to our aid. I barely noticed him, due to my state of sheer alarm, but between his pushing and Elisa’s pulling, I (and all of my stuff) made it aboard. The train then stopped and waited around in the station for another five minutes before finally departing. I continued to feel ridiculous for several minutes after that.

Luckily, our travels haven’t been limited to train. This past week, we saw a large chunk of Switzerland from Sabine’s car. A resident of the very quiet Büsingen, Sabine was excited to go out and about with us, and we had a blast with her on our two day-trips. On our first trip, we drove from Büsingen through Zurich (we passed a city called Schwamadingen, a very exciting event for Elisa), and then up Der Klausenpass. 

Der Klausenpass is a road that winds through the Swiss countryside. As we headed out of the metropolis of Zurich, we entered another time and place: “Heidi”-land. Any expectations about what Switzerland should look like are not disappointed on Der Klausenpass. The fields are green, the mountains high, and there are countless cows. The cows even have the stereotypical bells at their throats, which help the farmers keep track of them should they wander too far in to the hills. When we reached the highest point on Der Klausenpass, we saw the first bit of snow of the season on the nearby peaks.

            As we descended, we passed through the lake town of Brunnen. The view of Lake Luzern with the backdrop of the Alps settled it: if Elisa or I ever come in to ample amounts of money, we are getting a summer home on a lake in the Alps of Switzerland.

            Our final destination for the day was Luzerne. It is a town rich in history, and beauty. The Reuss River runs down its middle, and connecting the shores is the oldest wooden covered bridge in Europe, the Kapellbrücke (Chapel Bridge). Unfortunately, the bridge was partially burned in a case of arson a few years ago, so many of the religious images painted on the bridge’s interior are dark with soot-stain.

            We walked through Luzern for a while, but we were ravenous. Our wallets couldn’t handle dinner in Switzerland, so we opted to drive back towards Germany for dinner. We stopped in Gottmadingen, where we purchased Turkish kebabs. Anyone that’s been to Germany knows that shaved meat inside a warm pita with various veggies and sauces is a little piece of heaven.

            A few days later, we succeeded in driving through four countries in twelve hours. We started out in Switzerland, of course. We drove up to St. Gallen, which prides itself in being the highest city in Switzerland.  Originally Catholic, St. Gallen houses the Abbey of St. Gallen, inside which is the notable Cathedral St. Gallen.

            Outside of the Abbey stands a Protestant church, which was built there during the Reformation. There remains a part of a wall that was built to separate the two churches when there rivalry spurred a competition to gain the most congregation members. The Protestants won out, because they served beer before every service! 

            Our next country (my favorite) was Liechtenstein! It is 64 square miles and it took us about 10 minutes to walk from one end of its main street to the other. There is a huge, functioning castle up on a hill. We weren’t allowed to go in because it still houses the royal family. Liechtenstein is really more a home for people’s money than for actual people. Several banks are located within the city. Of course we had to get some iced coffee (it was almost 80 degrees that day!) in Liechtenstein. According to Sabine, a country can only be on your list of “Countries I’ve Been To” if you “qualify” it by having coffee or a meal in that country. 

            Austria, on our way back, was not technically “qualified.” We planned to have dinner in the city of Bregenz, on Lake Konstanz, but since it was such a nice day outside, traffic into the city was unmoving. So we walked down to the lake for a bit, then hopped back into the car and drove to the other side of the lake—to the city of Konztanz. We had a great dinner, and then walked through the city by night. It’s one of my favorite European cities. The lake is beautiful and the main square is full of fun fountains and windows with pretty jewelry inside. As we roamed, we devoured gelato, and we were full and contented on our way home to Büsingen.   

(Don't forget to check out more photos on Photobucket)

Hairy cows, chocolate muesli cereal, some deer in a moat...this must be HOME

After preparing for weeks for our trip overseas, Elisa and I (or at least I; I can't really speak for Elisa) found ourselves a bit unprepared this past Sunday morning, as we loaded up our stuff into my parent's car and made the three and a half hour drive from my house in Columbia, Maryland to Newark International Airport in New Jersey. While we had gathered all the necessary items for such a trip (cold weather clothing, ear plugs, and who knows what else. Really, I've already determined that I've packed way too much), our actual plans for once we landed on European ground only extended through the first week of a two and a half month stay. As Elisa and I keep telling ourselves, "That's why it's an adventure."

We landed at Zurich International Airport at 8:30 am the day after we flew out (I probably slept about 3 hours on the plane). Our goal for that day was to make it until at least 6 pm before we succumbed to jetlag and lack of sleep. Our hopes of succeeding were low until our friend Sabine found us at the airport and took us for some coffee in Schaffhausen, the little Swiss town next to the town in which we've been staying, Büsingen. Büsingen am Hochrhein is an interesting story. It is administratively part of Germany, but Swiss in almost every other way (monetarily, geographically, etc.) Apparently, this is because some guy, who I guess ruled Büsingen, was very proud of his German culture and swore that it might never become Swiss, despite the shifting of the border and whatever else occurred to make Büsingen a virtual German island within Swiss land. Anyways, now Büsingen is the home to European Nazarene College and the Eurasian Nazarene Regional Office. The Nazarenes probably make up half of the population of this tiny town. I lived here with my parents my senior year of highschool, when they were both working for the church here. And that is how Elisa and I have come to be in this tiny village on our current travels; it is another one of my homes.

Büsingen does not offer very many exciting things for one to do, but Elisa and I have been having fun exploring and relaxing anyhow. We took a walk and covered most of Büsingen within the hour. In the picture above, Elisa is enjoying a view of the beautiful Rhein river from our favorite boat dock in Büsingen. To the right, we see Elisa meeting an esteemed inhabitant of Büsingen: a hairy cow. As you can tell, Elisa finds the odor of the hairy cow albeit questionable. We also made our way up to the Bergkirche St. Michael, which is arguably my favorite building on the planet. The church was built in the 11th century and still stands upon a hill in Büsingen, lit up at night for the village to see. It is idyllic in every way, and the epitome of peacefulness. 

After our short walk, Sabine took Elisa and I to Lidl, the German grocery store (we left Büsingen, crossed into Switzerland, and shortly thereafter crossed the border back in to Germany). Almost everything in Europe is more expensive than in the States, but kindly enough, groceries in Germany are cheap. Elisa and I bought a lot of bread and cheese, and another one of my favorite things in the whole world: chocolate muesli cereal!!!!! I can't begin to express my love for this product. I could eat it every day for the rest of my life. I'm highly considering throwing away everything else in my suitcase on my way back to the States in November just so that I can fill my suitcase with chocolate muesli cereal. Okay, maybe not. The point is, I love it. AFTER we got our groceries, I'm not quite sure what happened. I know that somehow Elisa and I managed to stay up until around 7:30 pm, but I wasn't exactly lucid for the majority of the three hours before I fell asleep.
        On Wednesday, Elisa and I walked to Schaffhausen and back, which would be about six miles. The whole walk was along the Rhein and despite the overcast weather, it was a beautiful day. We got some coffee, people watched, and climbed up the Munot, the largest military fortress in Switzerland. My favorite part about the Munot is that, as it has long since ceased to serve any military functions, its moat has been drained and replaced with a vineyard, gardens, and a cute little deer family that just hangs out down there and is tended to by the groundskeeper or whomever. In Schaffhausen we also saw two old churches which were pretty boring because they are Protestant, and scoped out the train station, knowing that we would be needing to take the train from Schaffhausen in to Singen, another nearby German town, the next day. We needed to go to Singen for pretzel bread and gelato, first and foremost, but also because we needed to go to the Apotheke. Elisa had contracted some bug bites at some point over the night which were in need of soothing. The bug bites are unsurprising; we've had many unpleasant insect visitors in our room because it's not yet cold enough for them all to be dead, and it's wet outside, so they come inside. Elisa killed two huge spiders yesterday and I'm infinitely thankful that she is my roommate on this trip and not Diane Loughry. We shall have a great many more adventures in the coming weeks, I'm sure!

If you'd like to see more pictures from the trip, check them out on Photobucket. I will try to be as consistent about putting up pictures as I hope to be about blogging! Enjoy. 

There's Some Kind of Fire or Somethin

On our way to Ventura, California for an audition the other weekend, Elisa and I passed a landmark. Well, it was a landmark for us at least. It was Cahuenga Blvd., a street on which the action of possibly our favorite YouTube star's hit video occurred. We discovered Tracy about two years ago and she's remained a regular guest at many of our gatherings over the months. If you don't know Tracy yet, enjoy the YouTube above.

For those of you who are perhaps less than amused by Tracy, I suppose I should get on to more travel-related discussion. Though, again, I will assert that Cahuenga was a very exciting waypost on a not quite as exciting journey through Los Angeles on a Friday afternoon. And by not quite as exciting, I mean basically hell on earth. It was hot. L.A. drivers are jerks. It took us four hours. Definitely NOT the kind of travel that I find enjoyable. If you've ever travelled through L.A., I'm sure you've suffered similar pain.

The real travel began last weekend, as Elisa and I made our way from San Diego to our old chum Christian's house in The Most Obscure Town Ever, Colorado. The drive was again, hot, and again, long. But the traffic was minimal so the driving was actually more or less pleasant. On the first day of driving, we stopped to see friends in El Centro, California (did I say driving through L.A. was hell on earth? I was mistaken. El Centro, with the average summer temperature consistently above 100 degrees, and most days even above 110, is hell on earth) and Scottsdale, Arizona. Day two was the long day, though we made it from Scottsdale to Christian's house in a speedy 11 hours.

We always enjoy our time at the Sanders' home; how could we not? Look at that view (pictured left)! I was up doing some yoga on the deck one morning, and when I saw Isaac and Mohabi along the fence for their breakfast, I couldn't not take a picture. Turned out pretty nice for being snapped on my iPhone, don't you think?
About half of our time in Colorado was spent in this lazy, blissful manner: sleeping in late, reading (for fun!), doing yoga, napping, and eating wonderful food, courtesy of Elaine Sanders. But, as I mentioned, there was some adventure too, and I did quite a few things that I never would have chosen to do of my own volition.

For example, I was surprised one afternoon when Christian announced that his plans for us that evening consisted of driving to an old barn turned playhouse/dance hall at the base of a nearby mountain and joining in the square dancing that was going on there. I don't like country music and I don't dance...so you can imagine why I was a little hesitant about the whole thing at first. But we geared up, cowboy hats, belt buckles and all, and made our way out. Then we proceeded to make fools of ourselves on the dance floor. Okay, maybe not fools; not to offend the general class of the establishment, but it's hard to be a made a fool in such a... carefree environment. I was particularly fond of the sound system, run by Santa Claus in boots and a plaid shirt. He would teach us the steps to all these different dances and then we'd put them to music. Unfortunately, his ancient system was not really up to playing a whole song all the way through without some protestations, so when the music would start to skip in the middle of our dancing, Santa would promptly give the old system a good slap to get it going again. I think it's time for him to invest in an iPod, but that's just me.

That was only the beginning. We went to the bottom of a gold mine, flew a kite, threw together something that could be called a concert for the friends and family of Christian, and (my personal favorite) went up a mountain...on four wheelers and a Jeep. I can tell you right now that four-wheeling up the rocky terrain was a daunting prospect for a city girl such as myself. And in fact, Elisa and I only made it about a third of the way up before our four wheeler pooped out on us and we had to wait to be picked up by Christian's parents in the Jeep. I quite preferred the four wheeler to the Jeep and though I'm sure the cause was a combination of the two, I blame the bumpy ride in the back of the Jeep for the feeling I had when I woke up the next morning. I kept asking Elisa to make sure my back wasn't actually physically black and blue, because I could have sworn that the bruising was visible. It wasn't.


The view from the top was worth the bumpy ride (Elisa appropriately reenacted Maria's 'The Hills are Alive' scene from The Sound of Music once there), though I surprisingly loved every minute of the journey as well, especially the coming down. Elisa and I had to leave our four wheeler on the side of the road when it stopped starting for us on the way up, but we tried to start it again when we passed it on our way down, and it decided it would like to accompany us on the rest of our down-hill journey. We went fast. Elisa and I had ourselves convinced for a while there that we were following the wrong path down the mountain; things looked very different going down. We figured that as long as we were still heading in the general direction of downhill, we were going the right way. We were much relieved to find Christian and Craig at the bottom.

Now if I may, I will add my cheesy, philosophical thoughts about our trip to sum things up (Christian, if you're reading this now, you can stop reading here. You don't need another reason to make fun of me). I will make these thoughts short, don't worry. It's not been the easiest season of my life, what with graduating and having no idea where I will end up next (after Germany). I'm definitely feeling a bit of anxiety about not having a clear-cut path laid before me. I've been told by many wise individuals not to fear, with a bit of searching and a lot of faith, my path will make itself known...eventually. It's a comforting sentiment, but not always one that's simple to live by contently. However, I'm becoming more and more secure in this as I spend time with good friends, try to do what I love as often as possible, and just generally enjoy myself while living in the gray areas. I'll make it down the mountain eventually, right? As long as I'm more or less headed downhill.

Einführung (Introduction)

Thus begins a season in my life full of this thing I love the most: travel. I've just completed my undergraduate degree in San Diego, California, and I thought grad school was the next step for me, but when I didn't get in to any of the schools I wanted, I was given a gift: freedom. Now, with plans to head to Germany in September with my dear friend Elisa, I couldn't be happier or more excited about the path unfolding before me...though it's still, scarily, kind of undefined. With aspirations to solidify some fluency in German, I'm looking forward to extensive adventuring all over Germany, with maybe a pitstop or two along the way. Holland, Switzerland, Italy anybody?

My other great love in life is singing, particularly of the classical persuasion, and I'm hoping to see this passion aid and abet my love for travel, and vice versa. Opera has already taken me to New York City, New Haven, Los Angeles, Baltimore, and Tijuana and I'm counting on travel to return the favor by bringing me the opportunity to sing in new places. But even if the only singing I do on my journeying over the next few months is at the Bahnhof for coins to purchase a train ticket, I know the experiences I have in and of themselves will be worth every note left unsung. Which in truth, will probably be a very minimal number of notes. I think the only thing that could ever really truly shut me up would be if someone were to physically rip my trachea out of my throat with their bare hands.

Anyways, I suppose I should end this very first blog post of my life with some sort of explanation about my blog, though I'm sure the reasoning for creating it is more or less obvious. My HOPE is that, by faithfully posting news on my travels, friends and family from all over will be able to keep up with me. It's way easier than writing or calling every separate friend in Baltimore, L.A., Chicago, or San Diego to update them on my comings and goings. No offense, friends and family (and of course I'll be in touch...) Also, I'm hoping to help myself out a little here. I'm only a mediocre journaler and a pathetic photographer, so I want this blog to be a motivator. I want to remember all these amazing sites, stories, and adventures, and since my mother isn't going on this trip with me, I'm going to need a little encouragement to record everything. So Blog (yes, I'm addressing my inanimate blog, his name is Blog), and viewers, keep my honest here. And keep up with my story! I'm happy to be sharing it with you :)