To hold me accountable, I want to share my list with you all! And also hear your recommendations for my travel wish list! Who knows, maybe I’ll do this again between 30 and 60…!? OK, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s get to the list:

CURRENT COUNTRY COUNT: 25/30

Pre-2011: (titled this because I was too lazy to think about the actual years/first time I went there)

• US (birthplace!)
• Canada 
• Bahamas 
• Jamaica 
• St. Thomas
• St. Maarten 

2011: 

• France (Bordeaux, Toulouse)
• Ireland (Galway)

2012:

• France (Paris)
• Spain (San Sebastian)
• England (London)
• Germany (Mannheim, Karlsruhe)

2013:

• Turkey (Istanbul, Sariyer)

2014:

• Germany (Berlin, Heidelburg)
• France (Paris, Versailles, Nice)
• Monaco 
• Netherlands (Amsterdam)
• Morocco (Marrakesh, Atlas Mountains)
• Ireland (Dublin, Cliffs of Moher)
• Hungary (Budapest)
• Czech Republic (Prague)
• England (London)

2016: 

• Kenya (Nairobi, Lake Naivasha, Kakuma)
• Turkey (Istanbul, Cappadocia)

2017: 

• Uganda (Kampala, Jinja)

2018:

• Mexico (San Jose del Cabo)
• Kenya (Diani)
• Tanzania (Zanzibar)
• South Africa (Johannesburg)

2019:

• Dominican Republic (Punta Cana)
• Italy (Rome, Florence, Venice)
• Vatican City (does this count?)
• Switzerland (Geneva)

2020:

2021: ???

Where is your favorite place you’ve traveled to? Any recommendations? Drop them below!

The post 30 before 30 appeared first on em la jolie.

Dear Nairobi,

It’s been 560 days since I was last on your rust-colored soil. It feels weird to write this even – to solidify that time and distance in words. The other day, I stumbled upon a photo of the Shell gas station in front of the Sarit Centre and was stunned at how quickly I both recognized the location and was suddenly transported to that space, with cars and motorbikes (boda bodas) whizzing by, the distinct scent of dust suspended in the air, and a familiar dancehall beat coming from someone’s cell phone nearby.

I can sense the excitement of walking up to The Alchemist Bar, a favorite locale for food, drinks, music, and (for those of you who know me, this will be obvious) the Nairobi Flea Market. I can hear the clack of sandals against cold tile floors, the large birds that caw overhead, the soft crunch of gravel under tires in the driveway. I can feel the glaring heat of the sun on my scalp midday, giving way to cool night air and swarms of mosquitos descending while I’d fiddle with the keys for my front door. As the sun sinks down behind a horizon of trees, there’s a steady calm in you – footsteps petering out as everyone reaches home, pots of water gently boiling for dinner, the neighbor practicing piano a few floors down. You’re unlike large American cities in the most subtle way; you don’t quite sleep, but you slow down.

I’m acutely aware of how these things might be different now, post-COVID; how life didn’t just change outside my own window but outside the windows of people all across the world. And yet, in my memory, you remain untarnished, perfectly full of life and art and lush greenery.

The first time I visited you, I was 22 and wide-eyed. I didn’t know what to expect and my American education had painted a loosely incorrect picture of places other than North America and Europe. I remember being taken aback by the traffic cameras that flash on the streets when my taxi driver wound through the roundabouts to exit the airport – perhaps because it was nighttime when my flight landed and I was operating in a state of jet lag. And then, the following morning, I remember being surprised at the familiarity of chain restaurants, high-rise buildings, and advertisements dotting my commute to the office.

Less than a year later, I was on my third trip to see you and it was a solo venture. I like to think of this time as my “high school circa 2009” – social media existed but wasn’t the center of life and I still had to call someone to get a ride. The pre-Uber days. I had a handful of drivers on speed-dial and spent as much time as I could out with colleagues or adventuring on my own. I also didn’t have data on my international phone plan, so I had to rely heavily on Wifi and my Huawei pre-paid line. Alright, I’m getting carried away. The point is that I had to navigate your daily life without the luxuries that exist now and I am so incredibly grateful for that. I developed friendships with the drivers and a better understanding of time relativity. I memorized maps and paid attention to where I was going (partly survival instincts, I was a single woman traveling alone, after all) and eventually pieced together the puzzle that is you – enough to give precise directions without the help of Google. I made friends and friends-of-friends that slowly widened my circle. I learned about all the newest restaurants, bars, and hangouts, met other makers and brands that I’d return to time and time again, and let myself fall into the rhythm of your daily life.

Before long, I was teaching my colleagues the ins and outs when they traveled with me to visit you, finding the latest hotspot, the newest store, the best food. I think about you as a place where I grew up. From a timid post-graduate entering the workforce to a confident professional learning how to lead.

Now, after 10 trips, some spanning more than a month, you feel like a second home. And so, it feels incredibly weird to have not seen you in over a year.

I miss your morning air, dewy yet crisp, the sound of a mosque’s call to prayer in the distance. I miss the smell of lunch from the kitchen at RefuSHE and getting excited about ugali (a thick cornmeal porridge) day. I miss stopping mid-walk to look at a plant or tree that I’ve never seen before. I miss your Africa Yoga Project studio, with its creaky floors and kind instructors – the feeling of peace in this quiet space tucked at the top of a building downtown. I miss ordering Indian food and knowing that it will be amazing, sitting in your incense-laden garden at Habesha while soaking up Ethiopian food with fluffy injeera, and biting into a freshly-fried cardamom mandazi. I miss your Wilson airport, which made me feel like I was stepping back in time, and taking tiny safari planes that rattle like a rollercoaster. I even miss your bumper-to-bumper traffic; the ambiguity of being in close proximity to so many people, our lives all converging that that one moment like the teacup ride at Disney World when one saucer reaches for another. And little things like my favorite spot at the Java House in Jomo Kenyatta Airport, where I’d go for my ritual of fries and a chocolate milkshake before the long flight home from you. Most of all, I miss your people, who welcomed me despite my blatant American-ness and taught me, among many other things, enough Kiswahili to piece together conversations in the office. I miss the long dinners, the hugs, the dancing, and the fact that you make me the sort of person who cares more about the present than the future.

Nairobi, I miss your brazen beauty and I hope that, when this all clears up, I will find myself returning to you, returning to these rituals and spaces and moments that have brought me so much joy over the past five years.

Sending my love, always.

xo,
Em

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*This is a LONG post, so saddle up and get ready*
**The photos are also not of the best quality… #iphone5problems

We flew into Marrakech from Paris – for extremely cheap, even though we definitely paid the price of taking the flying McDonald’s..

Upon arrival, one of my roommate’s debit cards was eaten by the airport ATM, and of course it was way after hours, but we made friends with a security man who sorted out the situation as best as he could. With drowsy eyes and a stack of Moroccan dirham, we grabbed a cab, negotiated a price and sped off to our inner-city hostel.

Now, Marrakech is a maze. Literally. There are no street signs at times, and I’m convinced there are underground tunnels that locals use because they pop up out of corners far too often. Our cabbie dropped us at the entrance of a pedestrian street, what we would soon learn to be the first of many confusing paths. Two boys sitting on the curb immediately hopped up and started leading us down the road.

Two things I know you’re thinking right now.
1) Why did we follow them? It sounds super sketchy…
2) Have we ever watched Taken?

Well, in true pack fashion, we huddled together, taking care to survey our surroundings just in case. I had an insane amount of adrenaline rushing through me from my heightened night senses in a new city. I kept seeing the hostel sign along walls we passed, so I figured it was okay. And truth is, they were scrawny, I knew we could take them.

So we arrive at the hostel entrance and our unrequested tour guides hold their hands out for cash. Lesson #1: Morocco is HUGE on tipping.

The next morning, we woke up early early early for our trek into the desert. I’m not even sure what I packed exactly and it certainly ended up biting me in the behind, but we met our friendly, charismatic driver, Abdullah, at the hostel entrance and just knew this was going to be a trip.

And it was. An hour into our drive to the Atlas mountains west of Marrakech, we encountered a traffic jam. Most of the car was napping when we stopped, and our driver got out to see what was the matter. Any guesses? A landslide. Yes, I know, how often does that happen? Apparently the storms from days before had been strong enough to crumble several sections of mountain road, enough to keep us – and several other caravans – at a standstill for four hours. What was amazing, though, was how people didn’t seem to mind entirely. At first, there was frustration, but then people seemed to just shrug and take the opportunity to socialize. Being from a Western country that places a high value on time, this was strange. But there was nothing we could do, so we kept busy listening to music, chatting and walking around the area.

Luckily, a convenience store was located nearby (true to its name!) so we grabbed snacks, making the most of the random cheese and bread they sold. Other tour groups were saddled together in the line, and at one point we music battled an older bunch with Abdullah’s traditional Moroccan music. It felt like a giant, impromptu street party. Although we were anxious to get into the mountains and on with our tour.

Eventually, they let us through, only to be stopped again shortly after. Seeing a theme?
We made the best of it again, taking the opportunity to use the bathroom (Turkish toilets, anyone?) and snack again. We switched over to our music by this point, and Abdullah hosted a jam party to Taylor Swift as his fellow driver friends looked on in envy – I got the sense that college-aged, American females were not a key demographic of desert tours.

And suddenly, we are off into the mountains again! We sped through the traditional tourist stops, gawking at views and then hopping back on track. I will never get over how incredibly large those mountains were, and the crystal clear sky as their backdrop.

Making our way into the mountains!

We stopped for the sunset in the Atlas mountains

At this point, we had come to be friends with Abdullah, who taught us quite a bit about Berber culture. Night fell quickly, and the ride seemed to drag on forever, until we happened upon the desert. It was a seamless transition from city to small town to mountain town to no town and vice versa, ending with the Sahara instead of a city this time. Lights and people petered out. We stopped at the beginning of the trek, opting for a nighttime camel ride, because who can say they’ve done that? Camel riding is also very difficult, so our first encounter being in the dark was perhaps not the best idea, but we giggled our way to the Berber camp, which was complete with beds in tents, rugs for days and the most delicious tagine meal.

Only photo from our night camel trek…

Entrance to our humble abode for the night

Steamy tagine

Packing mistake #1: The desert gets freezing at night, and if you don’t bring warm clothes, you will be cold

Despite the amazing, hot tea we were served, I had brought only my alpaca sweater-jacket to keep warm. Rookie mistake. We snuggled up in our surprisingly comfy beds and pretended it wasn’t freezing cold. In the morning, we all decided to take a jaunt up the large sand dune hill to get a better view of sunrise.

Camp in the morning

Packing mistake #2: Flip flops are not an all-terrain shoe

Cassie and I made the lucky decision to wear flip flops during our trek, and tried to climb the sand dune – successfully, but just barely. The views of the Sahara at sunrise were entirely worth it, though.

Please excuse my major bedhead…

How I really felt about the climb..

But nothing beats a Sahara sunrise!

Breakfast was a beautiful array of Moroccan pancakes/crumpets – still not sure of their name? – along with some other breakfast cookies, fresh orange juice, tea and coffee. We loaded up before hopping back on our camels, taking this opportunity to photograph every second of our desert trek. Personally, I think I mastered the art of camel-riding and fully credit it to my over-a-decade of ballet classes. Cassie, on the other hand, was close to being flopped off. You win some, you lose some. Isabella was our resident camel whisperer, and Emily’s (the other one) could not be bothered to hang out with the pack.

Group photo turned out…dysfunctional.

Cassie rocking the camel ride

When we arrived at the end of the camel trek, we de-mounted and, of course, took several more photos with our trusty camels before tipping our guides and piling back into the SUV for our return trip. No one tells you how much camel riding hurts your booty…oh my!

On the way back, we stopped to see more sights and towns, one being the site where Game of Thrones is shot and another being the hometown of Abdullah. He treated us to lunch at a patio restaurant, because he’s awesome, and pointed out places with interesting facts all day long. We snapped as many photos as possible, I fell and scraped my leg once (surprise, surprise) and we returned to the hostel safe and sound.

With no time to waste, we cleaned up and headed out to explore the souks that were just outside our hostel’s door. The buddy system is a must here, since bargaining works better when you can bounce price negotiations off of a friend. Example:

Person 1: “Oh, I really like this teapot! Isn’t this pretty?”
Person 2: “Yes, that is beautiful, you should get it!”
Person 1: “Sir (to shop owner), how much for this?”
Shop Owner: “200 dirham”
Person 2: “Oh, that is a lot, I don’t know if you should spend that much…”
Person 1: “Yeah, it’s a bit pricey.”
Person 2: “How about 100 dirham?”
Shop Owner: “That is a quality teapot. 170.”
Person 1: “150?”
Person 2: “150 is a good price!”
Shop Owner: “Okay, I’ll take 150 just for you.”

BAM. You got yourself a deal. I’m sure being a foreigner always ups the prices and I’m certain we still overpaid for some things, but I like to think we got a few deals as well.

After some scoping and light shopping, we found a nice place in the Place Jemaa el-Fnaa for dinner. The rooftop was chic and cozy at the same time – a very difficult thing to master, if you ask me. We loaded up on tagine (YUM) and recapped the past 72 hours over mint tea.

The next day was filled with lots of shopping in the souks. We even stopped into the store that Carrie Bradshaw frequented in the Sex & the City 2 movie! The shopowner was more than excited to show us his photo with SJP. Out in the square, we browsed for tea and trinkets to bring back as gifts when out of nowhere, a snake charmer pops up and puts a snake on one of our friend’s shoulders. YIKES. They proceeded to hold the slithery creatures very close to us, trying to get us to pay money for a picture holding a snake… Who would even do that?? After Cassie was forced to touch a snake, we peaced out, dropping some dirham in their collection box so as not to be bothered.

Tired and defeated, we grabbed fresh orange juice – literally, they squeeze the oranges in front of you – and headed back to the hostel to say goodbye to half of our group.

Because no trip to the Middle East is complete without hammam, those of us who remained hopped over to the Medina Spa to be pampered. If you’ve never had a hammam bath before, you are honestly missing out on life. They put you in an extremely hot, marble room, scrub you down and exfoliate your skin like crazy, then rinse you off and let you lay in the humidity for a while until you feel like a new human. The origin of this comes from when people wouldn’t bath as frequently as we do today, so it makes sense how thorough and amazing it is. I walked out of there feeling like I was floating on air! Ah, how wonderful.

Post-hammam state of relaxation

After our eurphoric experience, we met up with Derek, a friend from Paris and headed to an early-turned-late dinner at Nomad, which is incredibly difficult to find as it is tucked away inside the souks on a rooftop that is only accessed through a tiny alley. Safe, I know. The food and experience was 100% worth the trouble we had finding it, though!

We had some delicious dips and appetizers before indulging in tagines, kebabs and couscous. The place was more trendy than traditional, and we were able to order wine, which usually isn’t available. During dinner, one of the prayer calls happened. Since our hostel had been so far into the maze of Marrakech, we hadn’t heard the calls yet, but on the rooftop, the mosques calls to each other were crystal clear. It was such an intriguing experience.

Tough decisions

Morocco in December is slightly chilly, especially at night, so they graciously brought us these beautiful capes with hoods that Berber people wear – they’re called akhnifs. It was perfect because we could easily eat while wearing them and they kept us toasty in the cold air.

The rooftop itself was beautiful, lined with bobble lights and multi-leveled. We explored a bit after our dinner and sat for a while drinking our routine post-dinner tea. What a life.

The next morning was slow, with breakfast at the hostel (those pancake things are to die for!) and some shopping before saying goodbye to Derek and Isabella. Cassie and I packed up our stuff and headed over to the hotel we had booked for our last night, Riad Edward. Of course, it was on the other side of the city, close to the New Medina, and the trek there was nothing but confusing. But we finally made it and checked in with the most wonderful hotel staff I’ve ever encountered. While we waited for our room to be made up, we sipped on tea and sampled Moroccan cookies in the courtyard/pool area.

Our room was on the balcony of the courtyard, an expansive suite with a giant bed (mind you, we’d been sleeping in twin beds since August) and gorgeous tiles everywhere. There were rose petals strewn everywhere and swan towels on the bed, which we decided meant this was our honeymoon suite. After a brief session of squealing and fawning over every detail of the place, we checked off one more to-do on our list: the Majorelle Gardens.

After a brief session of squealing and fawning over every detail of the place, we checked off one more to-do on our list: the Majorelle Gardens.

Located in the new medina, it was on the outskirts of town, but just a short trip from our hotel. It was crazy to see how different things were from the center of Marrakech to the new part of town. The streets were much more grid-like with stoplights and crosswalks, and buildings seemed more European than Moroccan. We enjoyed some window-shopping before walking through the Jardin Majorelle.

The gardens, created by Yves Saint Laurent, boast the famous Majorelle blue every chance they get. Tiles, hanging plants and cacti sprawled across the maze-like space. It was definitely a photo op if you’ve ever seen one. Unfortunately, we arrived near closing, so we didn’t get a chance to stop in the Berber history museum. However, Abdullah had given us enough history during our desert tour, so I’m sure we didn’t miss much. But if I’m ever able to go again, I’d try to make it back for that exhibit.

Cactus selfie?

Before the sun set entirely, we wanted to make it back to the hotel – something about navigating the maze that is Marrakech at night did not seem appealing…
We arrived and ordered our dinner to the rooftop lounge, which was void of people. Truly a honeymoon experience.

The food from Riad Edward was literally like having a family cook for you. They made everything in house, brought it up to the terrace, served us wine and gave us blankets when it got chilly. The entire meal, from appetizers to soup to tagine to dessert was something out of a dream. Cassie and I sat on that terrace for as long as possible chatting about everything and looking back on all of the crazy adventures we’d been through since arriving in Paris four months prior. It was the best ending of an amazing vacation.

In the morning, we woke up early enough to grab breakfast by the fireplace in the main dining room of the riad before heading out to see our last sight in the city: Ben Youssef Medrasa. The medrasa is home to the largest Islamic college in Morocco, which has since been turned into a museum for tourists and Moroccans alike. The tile in this place was a work of art, and every wooden awning was carved with an insane intricacy. It was such a powerful place and eerily quiet for being situated in the middle of the city.

After exploring the medrasa and its gorgeous art, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and catch our flight. Our ride back to the airport, set up by Riad Edward, was 100 times nicer than the cab our first night, and complete with a little package of cookies from the riad staff – yum! Cassie & I did not want to leave Morocco, but alas, Paris and the end of our study abroad was waiting.

Can you tell I loved the tile?

I don’t think a country has impacted me as much as Morocco did. The people, food, way of life and history there are both beautiful and simple. It is like a different world, but for some reason, it feels like home. I may be biased from my great experience, but I think it’s the greatest place on earth.

And if you are ever lucky enough to have an opportunity to go, please do.

XO,
Em

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Luckily, Em’s family friend had an apartment near Camden and was in the States for Thanksgiving, so she graciously let us stay there for the weekend. Free (and homey!) housing meant the trip was already off to a great start. When we got in, we were exhausted – the train had not been so conducive for sleeping – so we napped for while before setting out to explore. First on the list was Borough Market, the famed food market in Central London. We navigated the Tube, which oddly enough has you present your ticket both before and after your ride…talk about stressful, and found our way to the expansive gourmet food booths. After perusing what seemed like the whole place, I settled on some amazing-smelling Ethiopian food, while Cassie & Emily went for gourmet sausages. The food was phenomenal, but the atmosphere was even cooler. We sat on a picnic bench and people watched as children played and the smells of a dozen different cuisines wafted in the air. So cool. 

When we finished, we grabbed some dessert from a booth with mountains of treats and then walked off the calories by the London Bridge. Fun Fact: The London Bridge is not the same as the iconic Tower Bridge, it’s actually the more plain-looking one next to the Tower Bridge. Crazy, right? We still took pictures of the Tower Bridge and sang Fergie’s homage to the landmark. 

Upon the recommendation of Em’s family friend, we headed over for a late afternoon drink at The Shard, an 87-story skyscraper in Southwark. The massive building houses a viewing platform, bar and hotel. Instead of paying for a 10-minute stunt on the viewing platform, we opted for the more leisurely bar, which still had amazing views. Our waiter was extremely charismatic and, despite comments from the bartender, brought us the house Old Fashioned, with lavender honey. Yum. It was like Mad Men, except in London and not in the 1960s. We had the best time just relaxing and enjoying the setting as dusk descended on the city. The waiter liked us so much that he ended up letting us into the pool room, or the best view of London, in his opinion. Holy cannoli, it was breathtaking. Now I know where I’m staying when I’m rich and visiting London! 

The weather was getting chillier, so we hurried back to the apartment to change before going to dinner at an Indian restaurant that had gotten rave reviews on Yelp. Mala Bar, in Notting Hill, is a godsend. We ordered half of the classiest Indian establishment’s menu, including samosas, curries, multiple vegetable side dishes, naan and rice. The best part? It was all reasonably priced, something you don’t find often in Londontown. 

We feasted and then rolled ourselves home for an eventful day of tourism the next day. 

Saturday started with wandering around Camden – the neighbourhood we were staying in. We ventured to Camden’s passage, a haven for vintage boutiques and cute coffee shops. Cass & Em splurged on much-needed fur vests and then we bundled up for some museum-going. The museums in London are mostly free, so taking advantage of this is definitely a must. We walked through the giant British museum, wondering at the Rosetta Stone and the oldest preserved human remains. This place can take a good 2-3 hours if you do it right. Then we were off to the National Portrait Gallery, my personal favorite, which houses the portraits of famous people from the dawn of time to the most recent history. I loved seeing all the faces of greatness next to each other and reading about some that I hadn’t previously known. What a neat idea! 

We hit up Soho shortly after, dead tired from all the walking we’d done, but determined to make it to Big Ben. After getting lost (it’s inevitable), we ended up heading to Hyde Park, which, unbeknownst to us, had been transformed quite literally into a Winter Wonderland for the upcoming Christmas season. The line – or should I say crowd – was huge, but we muddled our way through. And thank goodness we did, because I had the best hot chocolate + Bailey’s of my life there. [still dreaming about it now…] 

Although the park was insanely packed, we made it out and cabbed it to the London Eye to at least see Big Ben and Westminster. The line for the Eye was incredibly long – we learned from our cabbie that this was the first year London had participated in Black Friday and the amount of people had been unprecedented…lucky us. Once we finally boarded our capsule, it was worth it. Seeing London from above by night was beautiful. The lights in that city are just right! 

After trekking back home, we decided to grab some fish & chips at a local pub and head out to a bar in Camden to make the best of our final night. 

I was really surprised at how at-home I felt in London. Aside from the fact that we were able to stay in an actual flat and not some rented abode, hostel or hotel, it felt like the people were genuinely welcoming. The city was so full of life and color – something that desperately lacks in Paris. And the adorable British accent didn’t hurt either. 

XO,
Em

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I won’t lie to you; Paris isn’t all roses and butterflies. It’s a tough, cold city and it’s not hard to feel like an outsider there. Sure, when you visit for a weekend or a whirlwind vacation, it seems like a beautiful place, filled with history, romance and cute cafés. And maybe it is, but there is so much more to this incredibly confusing, wonderfully stressful part of the world.

Arriving in Paris, I was that starry-eyed study abroad student that you all hear about: entranced by every bakery I passed and ready to cover every inch of the city before my return flight. The first few weeks were golden and I would leave my apartment everyday with that giddy feeling you get when you go on a first date or ace a test. Then, slowly, faced with all the Parisian adversities, it lost its glamour and became a thorn in my side.

First, let’s talk French administration. Or let’s not, because does it even exist? I am so used to having a 24/7 customer service number to call, a person to contact, a place to go to and people that genuinely want to help me out. There, the hours for help are sorely limited and it’s a miracle if you actually get what you came for the first (or second) time around. I have been thoroughly unimpressed with the system, and it is a shame because it ruined part of my time there. But it’s also been a tremendous learning experience. Patience is a virtue, right?

Next, French education. The presentation-centric, toughly-graded system makes classes both desperately mundane and demeaning. Even knowing that French teachers consistently grade low, it still took a toll on my motivation to finish the semester. I was blind-sided with the ambiguity of expectations and the inability for me to truly work up to my potential. I guess I was made for a small, liberal arts school where professors know my name. But it was a crash course in how post-grad life could be for me, and knowing that I made it through – even with saltiness – has made me that much more certain that I won’t fail life.

Lastly, the streets. It is not uncommon to find yourself on a street the width of a bar of chocolate. And do people want to move when they see you coming? No. You must lance yourself onto the pavement and risk collision with oncoming traffic just to get where you’re going. And when it rains? Expect to be splashed like Carrie Bradshaw on the curb (it really did happen to me, and no, I’m not over it). You’ll also get cat-called on a regular basis, which is highly uncomfortable if you happen to be fluent in the language + slang. But it made me tougher. I learned to navigate, to ignore, to scoff and to do the which-way-are-you-going dance like an expert. They may not be skills I can put on a resume, but if I ever get lost in a strange city, I have no doubt I will find my way without anyone bothering me.

There was a long while where I just muddled through the days because I knew I had to. It was stressful and exhausting to deal with. And then, gradually, I began to find little things that I loved. The 10-minute hike uphill to my apartment became a nice time to think about my day. Getting a fresh, warm baguette had the power to change my day from horrid to great. Having an afternoon off from school meant being able to hop on the metro to a different quartier and play tourist. I got to know the handful of people I had met through class, welcome week activities, and my roommates. I may not have been Parisian by the end of my stay, but if there’s one thing I learned from the French, it’s that they don’t even think Parisians are true Parisians!

Sometimes, I look back and wonder what it would have been like had I studied somewhere else, like Turkey, which I knew enough to love but it would have still been foreign. And then I think about how much I take for granted the fact that I can understand everything people say in France (unless they’re speaking a foreign tongue) and also be understood; I can appreciate the culture because I already know it fairly well. Sure, I complain about little things. But on the grand scale? This place is pretty darn cool. And the frustrating, bureaucratic moments seem like little ants on a mound when you stroll along the Seine, wandering into shops that used to be frequented by famous people and uncorking a bottle of 4 euro wine with friends.

It’s like that saying, I came to love it like the way you fall asleep; slowly and then all at once.

The post on falling in love with paris appeared first on em la jolie.

I don’t know about you, but I always pictured Amsterdam as being this dumpy, run-down port city in the north, not quite as advanced as Scandinavia but not as magical as Eastern Europe. And I was right, about the latter at least. It’s so much better!

We took an early train on a Friday morning and got there as the city was still waking up – the most beautiful time of day in my book. I was astounded at the beautiful, neat row houses that lined the canals, and the autumn leaves that hung heavily over the water like arches. The early winter sun shone just perfectly above the bridges and streets…it was like a dream.

The first thing we did, as tired travelers with heavy bags, was to find a place to sit and eat. After contemplating several places (coffeeshops here are not just for coffee, just so you know) we settled on a nice little breakfast nook on Haarlemmerstraat, Vinnie’s. The place was adorable, all painted in white, with comfy couches and a grand dining table that several customers crowded around. We grabbed a seat and ordered a proper breakfast of eggs and bacon, Dutch style.

After hashing out the details of our train trip — there always seems to be something weird that happens on long train rides — we decided to drag out our stay a little longer with some mint tea.

Then, we headed to meet the airBNB host to get the keys to the apartment we had rented. It was a bit of a hike, but the place was entirely worth it. (Yes, I am taking design cues from this humble abode for my new apartment in the near future…)

We claimed rooms/beds and then set off to explore the city a bit. The weather was chilly, but not too cold, and we wandered in and out of side streets until our feet were sore and we needed a rest. De Drie Fleschjes was there to catch our fall — with some Grolsch, an amazing dark lager that we promptly fell in love with. It was getting to be evening, so we strolled for a bit more under the Christmas-light-decorated streets and then found a cozy pub for dinner. I had the most delicious schnitzel — so delicious I didn’t get a picture…

And then, with full stomachs, we headed out to the Red Light District to see what all the hype was about. Oh. My. Lanta. I won’t lie, I was a bit shocked at first. I am a feminist and I was stunned at the idea that these women were selling sex so ostentatiously. We stumbled upon the area through a side street, where we were suddenly surrounded by scantily-clad women behind windows on both sides. It was uncomfortable, yes. But mostly, I found myself intrigued. I wanted to ask them so many questions. And I wasn’t the only one; we soon found a spot in a central bar and sat around discussing the whole ordeal over some steins of Heineken.

The next morning we started our long day of tourism with a great breakfast from G’s Really Nice Place — yes, that is it’s actual name. So great, in fact, that you’ll soon be reading a Foodie Review for it. Keep your eyes peeled!
Then we embarked on our tourist adventure: walking along the canals from the top to the bottom of the city, wondering at the Rijksmuseum, climbing up the Iamsterdam sign (it’s much tougher than it looks!), standing in line for Van Gogh and then marveling at the maze of the late painter’s works. Phew. A lot of walking and seeing later, we trudged home for a much-needed nap.

My favorite house in the city

Loved the pink pop of the bike!

Classic roommate pic

Being touristy

Since we had an early train to catch, we decided to stay in the area (upper Jordaan) for the evening. We grabbed a nice dinner at a sadly unknown restaurant — Dutch names just don’t stick in my memory very well. And then topped it off with a slice of the best apple pie in the Netherlands at Winkel 43. Seriously, it changed my life.

The best apple pie of my life

I was honestly so pleasantly surprised by Amsterdam. Maybe it’s because I didn’t expect much, but the architecture was stunning, the food was to-die for, the strolls along the canal were absolutely magical and the people were some of the friendliest I’ve encountered. I had been told repeatedly that I shouldn’t spend more than a couple of days in this city, but I wholeheartedly disagree. I wish I would have given myself a few more days to explore the city, mostly because it is so large and there is just so much to see!

Tips for Traveling to Amsterdam: 

• Stay as close to the city center as possible — the city blocks here are much bigger and getting places can take up a chunk of your time
• Expect stairs to be more like ladders
• Plan to visit a few things each day, and in the morning/afternoon, since sites can close at 5PM
• Drink a pint of Grolsch
• Try the Winkel 43 apple pie, if it’s the last thing you do
• Go to the Van Gogh museum, it is simply stunning
• Give yourself time for the long waits in lines at museums
• Know that the air will smell like weed occasionally
• Take a stroll down Haarlemmerstraat, it’s the perfect mix of touristy yet local
• Check out the Red Light District, if only for a moment; it’s worth a glance
• Get a dutch pancake or stroompfwafel on the street
• Expect bikers to come out of nowhere, and if you decide to rent a bike, pay attention!
• Ask locals to help you out if lost or just stumped on where to go, they’re always willing to help

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I have been to countless cities and countries, and here is what I have learned from it all…

Many of you know my story, but for those who do not, I’ll give you a brief re-cap:

I grew up traveling with my parents as often as they could take off of work. We drove a lot of places and I saw a good chunk of the United States before I even fully understood the idea of distance. At age 13, I took my first plane by myself and fell in love with solo travel. [Fun fact: Now, I have only ever taken transatlantic flights by myself.] After high school, I packed up my life and moved to Bordeaux, France for a year through foreign exchange. Then I moved to Chicago for college to major in International Studies and travel every opportunity I get. Now, I am in Paris, France for a semester abroad.

1. I travel because it changes my perspective. With each city I find myself in, there’s a different mentality, and it’s hard to not soak that up. Sometimes it’s an earth-shattering, life-changing thing, where I question the education I have been raised on. Other times, it’s a subtle, comfortable change, where everything clicks in the most perfect way. I thrive on hearing others’ opinions and learning about their way of life. There is no knowledge in this world that compares to understanding and appreciating someone from another walk of life.

My summer in Turkey changed my perspective on the value of time.

2. I travel because it never ceases to amaze me. This world is a beautiful place and there is an incredible amount of beauty that I would never know if I stayed within my comfort zone. Sometimes this beauty is in the towering monuments and architecture that we, as inevitable tourists, must cross off our list. But the most wonderful beauty is not in a museum or church or historical landmark – it is the journey itself and the people. My faith in humanity is continually restored because of the people I have met during my times abroad. I may know them for one night or for the rest of my life, but being in a city together gives us some unspoken bond that I can’t (and don’t want to) shake.

These three incredible women (my roommates for the past 3 months) have laughed through all the struggles of living abroad with me and taught me a great deal about making the most of life but also giving yourself downtime every once in a while.

3. I travel because it is a challenge. Every airport I navigate, every language barrier I face, every custom I learn the hard way – it is tough to displace yourself to a new world. They have culture shock down to a science and you can very well pick up a book or two to prepare yourself, but nothing truly primes you for the differences. I have cried, I have laughed, and I have learned that I can endure a whole heck of a lot before my breaking point. It makes me a more durable person and I value life a lot more because of it.

The deer-in-the-headlights look was very common during my first months on exchange in France, but eventually I learned more about their customs, routines, politics and food than I could have ever known from a classroom.

4. I travel because we don’t have a lot of time here. I always struggle with this, because I am a bit of a workaholic and my brain is always a month or two (or a year…) ahead of the present. I have checklists for things I need to do by a certain time and a very organized schedule for them. But then I take a trip somewhere and it hits me that those lists may not all be checked off, and that’s okay. I’m not saying it blinds me from responsibility or forward-thinking, but it helps me make the most of the present, knowing that I may never get the chance to come back. A lot of people postpone travel for when they’re older, but for me that uncertainty is too great of a chance to take – and besides, I don’t know that my body will be able to handle all the walking, climbing and hiking in 40+ years.

View from the top of Diamondhead on Oahu – it was an exhausting hike (and scary at times), but I’m so happy I did it!

5. I travel because it makes me realize how frivolous material things are. Sure, the plane tickets and the lodging can be steep, and I am so fortunate to have parents that support me in all my ventures, but once you get past the logistics, money begins to have much less importance. Especially when in a place with different currency, the value of those bills I keep handing over start to make less and less sense and it becomes more about the exchange, and whether I would trade it back or not for anything. Experience has no pricetag. Maybe this has made me less money-conscious, but when I look back at #4, it just seems worth it.

Bartering at markets in Istanbul definitely altered my idea of a fixed price for an item – I only wish we had these kinds of exchanges back in the United States!

6. I travel because it helps me grow. As an individual, a friend, a sister, a daughter and whatever else I am. I am never quite the same when I return from a place, and not just because I get post-travel blues, but because it has an impact on me in ways I cannot explain. The frustration I have faced has made me more patient, the novelties have made me more appreciative, and the distance has made me realize just how important family is. It is difficult sometimes, because I can’t convey how a certain place made me feel, but I’ve come to terms with it. Traveling has made me a stronger, more independent person, while also teaching me that it is okay to ask questions and to be vulnerable. It makes me a happier person, a better citizen of this world, and, ultimately, it gives me so much more than I can write down in a single blog post.

The post on traveling + growth appeared first on em la jolie.

Prague was a whirlwind of a trip. We arrived later on a Wednesday, at varying times due to my mistaking train departures when buying tickets (oops), and checked into the Hostel Santini Prague with zero difficulty. Seriously, it was almost too good to be true. Free breakfast, towels, a nice large room, comfy bunk beds (I know, I thought that was impossible too), it was just perfect.

I was fascinated by the ceiling art in the hostel

I met a friend from my program, Victoria, who decided to join us for this leg of the trip, and we went out to dinner with another SciencesPo friend who happened to be finishing up her time in Prague. It was a very relaxing evening, with more goulash and my first taste of Czech beer – a light, pilsner. We came back to the hostel and found my roommates, who had gotten in a little late. We did a bit of planning for the next few days and then drifted off to sleep.

First Czech beer!

We woke up early (okay, early for us) and grabbed some breakfast at the hostel before heading out to explore the castle that was just up the hill from our place. The climb is killer, but the views were so worth it! The morning was dedicated to exploring the giant estate, between the cathedral and the palace, there is definitely a lot of time that can be killed in that little area.

Even though the skies were grey, pastel buildings made the walk enjoyable

On our way down, we grabbed some mulled wine to warm up from the chilly weather we hadn’t really prepared for.

Then it was lunch. We found upon the Restaurant Residence U Cerneho Orla while wandering closer to the Charles Bridge, and it ended up becoming our favorite food in Prague. We settled in for lunch, with the best soup I think I have ever had as a starter and traditional goulash as our main dish. Emily and Cassie, being the venturous souls they are, opted for the pork knuckle, which sounded very graphic to me but was actually delicious.

South Bohemian Kulajda soup…or the best soup ever

Goulash, dumpings and Czech beer

The intimidating pork knuckle

With happy, full stomachs, we braved the Charles Bridge (a.k.a. the worst place to walk in the history of mankind) and crossed into the Old Town Square area. Mind you, at this point, we had no sense of direction and knew absolutely nothing of our whereabouts. But it’s okay, that’s usually how we find the greatest things anyway, and this time was no exception. We stumbled upon the astrological clock and the main square in Prague, which we would later learn all about. That day, however, we decided to skip the history lesson and instead school ourselves at a brewery a little further out of town. We hopped on the metro – surprisingly easy to take – and found ourselves in a quieter, more residential area north of the city center at Pivovarsky Klub. Famous for their stellar selection, we embarked on a sampling of their best tap choices.

#selfiegamestrong

Sour cherry dark lager

Czech weizen beer

My interest in beer peaked at that moment. I realized I am much more of a dark lager person – perhaps that’s why I always liked Guinness – and that, as much as the Czech beer thing had been hyped up, it really wasn’t much more great than the cheap Budweiser from back in the States.
But I have a feeling my venture into beer knowledge has just begun!

That night, we thought we’d give Prague’s nightlife scene a try and found a giant bar/club, Chapeau Rouge, near the Old Town Square. The top portion was a bar, the second floor down was a salsa dance club and the basement was an electronic music club. We sipped on the Praha speciality, absinthe and red bull, before getting on the dancefloor.

The next day, after sleeping in, we decided to enrichen our historical knowledge and embarked on a “free” walking tour of the city. Our tour guide was bubbly, personable and from Milwaukee, which made the hikes around town worth it. We grabbed our first Trdelniks (roasted, cinnamon pastries) and snacked on those as we listened to fact after fact being rambled off at the various locales. By the end, I had learned more about Prague than I ever thought I would know. But my feet were unbelievably tired, and the other girls seemed to feel the same, so we went home and napped. Later, we traipsed over to Old Town Square again for food at a restaurant near a club we had heard was having a concert tonight. The restaurant was amazing, but the club ended up being exorbitantly expensiv, so we opted for a Mexican bar closeby and called it quits early.

Close-up of the astrological clock

Couldn’t get over the colorful buildings!

Church of Our Lady – and Tycho Brahe’s tomb

Mozart played here once

Cassie, me, Emily & Victoria

Our early night meant that we got up a bit earlier the next day, and enjoyed brunch – okay, a heaping plate of warm pasta…comfort food knows no hour – and (surprise) more mulled wine a cute café nestled in the castle hill. [HINT: This area was also very expensive due to its proximity to the tourist trap of the castle, so if you can make the distance, walk to a less tourist-ridden spot.]

We then followed Emily, who had discovered that the Lennon Wall was just around the corner from our place. It was cliché, yes, but the pictures turned out great and it honestly felt so inspiring to stand there, looking at all the artwork/words and listening to a street performer rattle out some Beatles’ tunes. Once our cameras were filled with Instagram-worthy pictures, we moved on to Old Town Square to do the one thing we hadn’t yet: climb the clock tower.

Thanks yet again to Isabella, we hiked up to the top sans elevator, and crowded onto the veranda to soak in Prague from above. Oh. My. Goodness. The views were incredible. Never have I seen such a photogenic city! I don’t think I put down my camera once, and you can thank me after you look below…

Hi Cassie!

After snapping enough pictures for a hundred screensavers, we climbed down in time to catch the astrological clock show that we’d missed previously. The verdict? Underwhelming. But at least I can say that from firsthand experience, right? We loitered for a while more in the square with another round of Trdelinks and mulled wine, a Praha staple if you ask us.

The apples & oranges they had for you to add was the best part

Watching them make the Trdelnik

Right before devouring said Trdelnik

This was our last night of Fall Break, and so, like any twenty-somethings traveling Europe, we wanted to go out with a bang. We returned to our favorite restaurant from the first day for our “last supper” and loved every second of it. Then we headed over to the southern side of the city to try our luck at Prague nightlife again – third time’s the charm, right? After stepping in and out of several bars, we found ourselves at a nightclub situated at the top of a building downtown. The club itself was quite strange, and we chalked it up the Eastern European culture, but we enjoyed the music and each other for a while before throwing in the towel and trudging home.

The Last Supper Part I: Goulash soup in a bread bowl

The Last Supper Part II: Beef cheeks & potatoes

Our last morning was quite somber, as it marked not only the end of Prague but the end of Fall Break and our carefree lives. We got our stuff around and checked out early, then took our last adventure over to Café Savoy for brunch. I did some souvenir shopping for a bit afterward and then we picked up our belongings to go to the airport.

What a magical land…

Prague definitely stole my heart. It was beautiful, comfortable, friendly and just the right kind of fun. I wasn’t expecting anything from this city, which is perhaps why I was so pleasantly surprised by it. Prague is full of so much intriguing history, amazing architecture and some of the best food I know…and we all know that’s what really matters. I’m already dreaming of spending Christmas here in the future!

• Eat a Trdelnik. Or two. Or five.
• Drink the mulled wine any time you can – it’s the perfect way to warm up
• Stay near Old Town Square or the castle, if you can
• Expect to walk a ton, it’s very doable but you will be sore
• Climb up the clock tower, the views are entirely worth it
• If you’re into beers, this is the place to go crazy
• Souvenir shops have the best scarves and gloves…and for reasonable prices
• Avoid walking the Charles Bridge midday – morning and late night are fine
• Prague is all about comfort food; enjoy it & think about the calories later
• Beware of pickpockets on the bridge
• Learn a few words in Czech before you arrive, just in case & because it’s fun
• Avoid restaurants near very toursity areas, you can find better food for cheaper elsewhere
• If you can, take a walking tour and, if you can, tip well
• Look at the weather before you go – Prague can be quite chilly compared to other Euro cities

The post travels: prague, czech republic appeared first on em la jolie.

WARNING: This post is a bit long because anything shorter wouldn’t be doing it justice.

We flew from Dublin to Budapest late on Sunday night – I’m talking 1AM arrival…not fun. Our AirBNB host was amazing and met us in the early hours of the morning at the apartment we rented.

[Hint: Make sure you notify your AirBNB host of your travel timing when you request the place, there’s nothing worse than having a place & then realizing it won’t work because of schedules! It’s also just common courtesy – they are letting you crash at their place, after all]

After sleeping off our late night, we woke up with one thing on our minds: THERMAL BATHS

Traveling has a way of making you tense, even if you’re having the best time, you can’t avoid kinks in your neck from falling asleep on trains/planes/buses or the strain on your muscles from dragging your luggage around. Needless to say, a day at the baths sounded absolutely perfect.

We researched a bit and found that the best baths were just outside the city center, called the Szchenyi baths. We tried to call ahead and make sure they would have room for a couple of massages, but were met with the language barrier and decided instead to just wing it.

And oh my, was it perfect!

My roommate, Cassie, and I splurged on massages before hopping into the warm, outdoor pools. It was so refreshing and relaxing. We spent quite a few hours just wading in and out of pools, taking spins around a whirlpool that was surprisingly strong, snapping pictures with our phones (thank you, LifeProof case) and making new friends.

When we had finally water logged ourselves – and our towels – enough, we packed up and went back to the apartment to shower & nap. Hot tubbing is tough work, okay?

By the time we all recovered from our intense state of relaxation, it was time for dinner. Usually our resident foodie, Cass, finds the restaurants we go to, but this time Emily (the other one) found a suggestion for Café Kör, and thank goodness because this might have been the best part of the trip! Except that we were so wrapped up in the moment that we forgot to take any pictures…

So let me set the scene: We arrive in downtown Budapest, in front of the Basilica, where everything is lit up in that backyard-party kind of way. Around the corner, on a side street, this little restaurant is tucked away, with a small outdoor seating area and an awning boasting its name. When we told the maître’d that we didn’t have a reservation, he looked around frantically at the full tables and then, settling down a bit, told us that if we waited fifteen minutes, he’d seat us. At this point, we’re used to waiting, and have spent quite some time in queues for restaurants. We happily passed the time scouring the menu and commenting on dishes. Then, lo and behold, our maître’d strutted up to us with a tray of four glasses of champagne! He announced that it had been more than fifteen minutes and he wanted to make up for breaking his promise. Totally unexpected, totally pleasant, and totally a reason why this place is the best.

Inside, the restaurant was cute, cozy and very lively. We immediately ordered a few appetizers: a half portion of the goulash (Hungarian comfort food) and a plate of the café’s specialties (salmon carpaccio, foie gras, dumplings, cheeses and vegetables). Then, after much debate, we settle on our main dishes and a nice white wine.
The food absolutely blew us away. It was a delicious mixture between homemade and five-star material, and our empty stomachs happily took it all in! The meal lingered on over another bottle of wine, and then a complimentary tasting of Hungarian sour cherry liquor – definitely a must-try, but maybe not more than once!
How can this get any better? The entire meal cost each of us about 15 euro. This is absolutely unheard of. At the moment, I am sadly looking at a cup of coffee that cost half of that…

So, if you need to ask, I wholeheartedly recommend stopping by this magical establishment if you’re ever in Budapest.

[Fun fact: Budapest is pronounced “buda-pesht”]

After our feast, we went straight to the ruins bars to check out this grungy locale that we’d been told about numerous times: Szimplakert. It’s basically a giant bar in a partially crumbled stone building re-done by a street artist. Bike wheels, posters, chairs, broken paraphernalia and graffiti adorned the walls, with dim string lights and tall tables dotting the various sections. There was a main, indoor area, several side rooms, an upstairs balcony with couches, and an outside garden terrace. It’s impossible to see all of this place. We found an empty table in the garden area and got an orange-flavored hookah pipe to share. Everyone around us was drinking, laughing, and smoking so we indulged in all three.

Demonstrating my obo-playing skills

The next day we dedicated to sight-seeing. Our first stop was the House of Terror, which was an in-depth museum on the Nazi/Soviet ruling of Budapest during and after World War II. It was quite intense, and even though I had to speed past the last part because I didn’t have the heart for it, I would definitely recommend going. The curation of the museum might be the best I have ever encountered, and it was so interesting to learn about that part of history from a different point of view than I am used to. Side note: why don’t we learn more about Eastern Europe in school? Such a shame!

Next up was St. Stephen’s Basilica to lighten our moods a bit. The architecture in the cathedral was breath-taking, everything was dipped in gold. But the best treat was the view from the top – even though we huffed & puffed our way to the top by way of stairs (thanks, Isabella). The city was sprawling and gorgeous, especially in the light of dusk.

Gold on gold on gold!

Mesmerizing ceiling

Then we wandered along the Danube river and stumbled upon the sculpture of shoes dedicated to those who lost their lives from the minutemen attack at the start of Nazi rule. It was an incredibly sombering day, but entirely necessary.

Shoe sculpture along the Danube

House of Parliament

We ate at another fancy restaurant (yet again only paying about a quarter of what it would cost in France..) and went back to Szimplekert – I told you, there is so much to explore there! – before coming home and packing for our train the next day.

Overall, Budapest turned out to be much more deep than I expected. It gave me the most to think about, as the whole city was drenched in history. But it was also friendly and the most hospitable place I’ve encountered thus far.

• Bring a swimsuit so you can go to the thermal baths – they will change your life
• Buy tickets online for sights/activities in advance (this isn’t just for Budapest, but in general)
• Go to Café Kör <– This is mandatory
• Eat as much goulash as possible and worry about the calories later
• Learn a few phrases in Hungarian (hello, goodbye, thank you, please, etc.)
• Make the hike up the Basilica
• Stay in a hostel or hotel close to downtown, unless you know the city/language well
• If you can handle the intensity, give the dark history of Budapest a shot – it’s intriguing
• Go to the nice restaurant, you can afford it
• Plan out your visit in advance – there are plenty of sights we didn’t visit because we didn’t budget our time there very well
• Discuss prices with cab drivers before taking them
• Follow along on Maps when you’re in a cab to make sure they’re not taking you a roundabout way – they like to do this to foreigners and charge them up the wall
• Don’t expect the latest & greatest technology
• Do expect trams that look like they’re from Soviet rule
• Go to a grocery store (this is just one of my personal favorite things to do in foreign places)
• Buy a few metro tickets when you get there, so you’re not buying one every time
• Try anything & everything considered a Hungarian specialty!

The post travel: budapest, hungary appeared first on em la jolie.

I’ve been working on these fall break posts for a while now, and honestly, procrastination has been a huge part of that time spent. A part of me is excited to share all of my adventures with you, while another part of me is sad to press publish and be done with all the new places I was lucky enough to visit. But you guys trump my nostalgia, so here goes nothing!

First of all, Ireland is magical. Literally. We arrived late at night (early morning?) on a Thursday and were greeted by the cheeriest taxi driver. Let it be known that his only advice to us was to go to pubs. And so we checked into our hostel, which to our pleasant surprise was right downtown, and went out to the Temple Bar district that evening. I cannot begin to describe how delicious that first sip of real Guinness tasted. Live music + good beer + good company, is there anything better?

View from the plane as we landed!

Pubs are not known for their lighting…

The next morning, we woke up ready to drink for a day full of Irish culture. Starting with a traditional Irish breakfast (the pudding is actually blood sausage, in case you were wondering) at Bewley’s, we made our first stop the Old Trinity Library.  It was a book lover’s dream, with bindings up to the ceiling and the giant, old Book of Kells. The Trinity campus was as green as ever and the leaves on the trees were at the perfect fall color peak, so we sauntered around the grounds for a while until we decided to start on our Irish drinking tour.

The grand hall

You should just know there will be a selfie by this point

Stacks on stacks on stacks

It’s like Hogwarts!

First stop: Jameson Distillery 
I honestly learned the most from this place – definitely worth the trek outside of downtown Dublin! I can rattle off some impressive facts about the whiskey distillery process, as well as differences between Irish whiskey, scotch & American whiskey. But if I told you, what fun would that be?
After the tour, we hung out in the bar area near the entrance, which was over glass flooring that showed the original stone wash backs used to make Whiskey and was adorned with Jameson bottle chandeliers (a beauty all in their own), for the best mug of Irish coffee I think I’ve ever tasted! Once again, the lighting was not so great, so my apologies for the poor quality. I guess that just means you’ll have to go see it for yourself

Complimentary whiskey neat at the end of the tour

With our stomachs full of whiskey and still warm from the hot coffee, we ventured out into the chilly rain (yes, it does rain A LOT) back toward downtown and across the river.

Second stop: Guinness Brewery
This place is just enormous. I still can’t get over it. We bought tickets online in advance so we breezed right past the entrance (highly recommend!) and started on the winding self-tour that Guinness has set up. There are no guides. Just you, your hopefully-good sense of direction and some informative signs about the brewery’s history. I also picked up some pamphlets, but that’s mostly because I’m a pamphlet hoarder…
In other news, we finished the history lesson and then took the glass elevator in the middle of the building (we’re talking Willy Wonka-type stuff here) up to the Gravity Bar to turn in our own kind of golden ticket: the free beer voucher. Yes, please!
The views from the 360-degree glass window hangout were incredible. And maybe it was just my imagination, but the Guinness tasted a little better than before.

Our crew in front of the famous gate

Sometimes the information was painted onto the brick

I’m not even sure what this is but it’s giant & impressive

Huge vats…of beer?

Cheers to you, Arthur!

Roomie pic above Dublin

We napped off our exhausting day, as most twenty-somethings would do, and then headed out to our favorite nightlife locale for some of that beloved live, cover music that Ireland does so well!

At 7AM the next morning, we rolled out of bed and onto a tour bus for the Cliffs of Moher – don’t worry, we caught a little shut-eye during the long ride from Dublin to West Ireland. We saw the mini cliffs first, which were just as breath-takingingly beautiful as the actual cliffs. But you can be the judge of that.

(sorry, I had to)

And now for the real Cliffs of Moher…

I just love the incredible colors!

The farm land leading up to the Cliffs

We walked, hiked, climbed, traversed and shuffled so much that day. Aside from editing our Instagrams on the bus ride home, the only thing we had on our minds was food and sleep. As soon as we got back to Dublin, we stuffed our faces with gourmet burgers from Bobo’s Burgers and then mustered up the energy to take advantage of our last night with live music, Guinness and Magner’s cider (much to my dismay, this doesn’t exist in the USA).

On Sunday, we woke up, pulled our things together and headed out for a stroll around Dublin to kill time before our flight that afternoon. We stopped for breakfast at San Lorenzo’s – best huevos rancheros of my life – and then walked to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, which ended up not being free like we had planned so we admired its external beauty only. I took a quick jog over to the Temple Bar district to snap some pictures and grab a few souvenirs.

#BrunchOfChampions

The famous red Temple Bar

Last Irish fish & chips for a while

We found ourselves with a lot of extra time on Sunday and, in retrospect, we probably could have done a short day-trip or something of the like. Instead, we trekked to outer Dublin to a coffee shop called 3FE Coffee that had been recommended by a friend of Cassie’s. The coffee was roasted all in-house and my latte was much-needed. After that, we rounded up our suitcases and taxied to the airport for our next leg of the adventure: Budapest (coming soon!)

I was overall very impressed with Dublin’s lively energy and friendly people. It honestly does feel like home for me in more ways than one, and I can see myself coming back here several times in the future!

• Stay downtown – the convenience is everything
• Eat at pubs (advice from the taxi driver himself), it’s cheaper and often better food
• Absolutely go to the Jameson Distillery
• If you have time, fit in Guinness
• If not, drink as much Guinness on tap as possible
• Take advantage of the Temple Bar atmosphere
• Bring an umbrella AND rain coat AND boots
• Make sure you have a UK adapter – we only had one for 6 people & it was not pleasant
• Go to the Cliffs of Moher and stray off the path (it’s worth it)
• On that note, that place is extremely windy, so expect to have some windblown hair
• You will eat lots of hearty food, don’t think about being healthy
• Order a Magner’s at least once, you can’t get it often elsewhere
• If you have one, use a DSLR camera – iPhone photos didn’t do any of this justice!

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