Check in.
I guess I never got to talk
about my spring break trip, so I’ll do that now. I feel that I’m consistently
amazed by how essential pre-trip planning has turned out to be. Amidst planning
trips to Scotland and Provence, writing essays, and generally getting settled
into the program, I found myself just going with the crowd for the first half
of spring break. A lot of people on our program wanted to go to Barcelona, and
after not really taking the time to research anything else, I booked a flight
and a hostel for six nights. Since sixteen of us (out of the 25 people on our
program) ended up in Barça at some point, I absolved myself of the
responsibility of reading up at all about what there was to do in Barcelona. I
only got from the airport to the hostel by the generosity of my friends and the
driver of our transport van, who were willing to squeeze two more people than
had signed up online into the van for the 90-minute ride. The hostel itself was
comically party-oriented; instead of having a lounge area on the ground floor
like most hostels, this one had a full bar that played dance club music from 5
p.m. to 2 a.m. I found out quickly that Barcelona is like a glorified
Miami—lots of beach, lots of partying, and days don’t start until noon and
don’t end until the sun is just about to rise. For my part, I made the mistake
of booking a 22-person room to save a few pounds, and was kept up from 4 a.m.
to 6 a.m. for two nights by my roommates. By Day 2, I was already worn out and
didn’t see much end in sight, so I decided to cut my losses and book a getaway.
I was able to find a 3-hour bus ride to
Perpignan, France and a relatively cheap hostel
there, so I left Barcelona after three nights (I had to stay to see the FC
Barcelona game) on that Monday. My time in Perpignan was rather uneventful, but
I was able to get into the Pyrenees, snap some pictures, and get some much-needed
rest. On Wednesday, I caught the bus back to Barça, where I stayed at a
cheaper, quieter hostel before heading flying off to Amsterdam the next
morning.
I spent the last four days of my
spring break in Amsterdam, staying with my friend who had stayed with me in
London at the beginning of the semester. She was staying in a host home, so I
was able to experience some true Dutch culture through my interactions with her
host mother. I learned that the Dutch are much more environmentally conscious
than even the greenest of us Americans: I was banned from doing the dishes
after I had absentmindedly left the faucet running for a few seconds. I was
also thrust into the Dutch biking culture, as my friend instructed me to rent a
used bike for the time I was there. There was really nothing like riding around
Amsterdam on a bike, freed from the confining subway or bus walls yet still
enraptured in the beauty and newness of the city passing by me. I really
enjoyed Amsterdam—I was able to get to a lot of museums there (including the
Anne Frank Huis) and we even got a tour of a working windmill! I had a good
guidebook for the city, so made a point of exploring different restaurants and
bars mentioned, and we were able to find a lot of authentic local places that were
also incredibly welcoming.
Looking back, I was happy with
where I was able to go on the trip. Had I planned better, I perhaps would have
tried to go to Ireland or Paris or Italy, but where I ended up wasn’t too bad.
I didn’t really care for Barcelona or much of Spain, and I felt at a real
disadvantage there not being able to speak Spanish, but at least I know that
now. I still adored France and felt very sad to leave the country—I hope I can
make it back there someday. The Netherlands was challenging in its eternal
commitment to social responsibility, since it contained an implicit
condemnation of my lifestyle that I know to be completely valid. I am too
consumerist, too wasteful, more willing to buy from companies who offer
eccentric bells and whistles than from companies who commit to environmental
sustainability and fair trade practices. There’s always time to change, though.
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