The only time I’ve ever traveled alone was to Colombia a couple years back. It wasn’t much of a risk seeing as it’s where my family comes from. I’ve been there a million times and I know the language so, piece of cake? I’d say so! If you cut out the part where I regrettably flew with Spirit Airlines and they left my luggage in Florida. Although I’ve done NYC to Medellin, I was still a bit nervous for this trip to Madrid. It was my first trip in Europe without my study abroad besties so I had to be on high alert with my flight, my things and my overall safety. I tried to shake my nerves because all I really had to worry about was getting there. Once I’d arrive I’d be greeted by my loving sorority sisters! Chelsea, Hannah, and Jessenia, graduates from my college and members of my sorority, who are all currently teaching English while living in the heart of España. How lucky am I that I have a home to come to in a city as beautiful as Madrid? It was going to be a trip I’d never forget not only because of my friends, but because it was Halloweekend! Thanks to my girls, I knew we were going to have a scary good time. Shout out to my RLKs for being the most accommodating girls! Realizing how fortunate I was to have these girls eased my anxiety for this flight, but I still tried to be aware of my surroundings. As my father often advises me before a trip, abra los ojos mami! So, landing in Madrid-Barajas Adolfo Suarez Airport I stood waiting for my luggage with my eyes wide open.

I definitely overestimated the difficulty of this trip. This was just like Colombia but with an accent. When I asked for directions to the train station, it felt like I was asking a neighbor in Queens how they spent their weekend. Sure, I had to adjust to the Spanish lisp but all in all I felt quite comfortable in Spain. There was even a stop on the train to my girlfriends’ apartment called Colombia: https://www.planometromadrid.org/en-line-8-metro-madrid.php . Finding my way to Malasaña, the neighborhood my friends live in, was a cake walk. When I finally saw my girls I think the whole city heard our cheers. We all gave each other bear hugs and chatted for what felt like hours. I didn’t even care that I was drowsy from my early flight because catching up with these girls felt like taking shots of espresso back to back. The energy was at an all time high as we laughed at old sorority tales, our travels through Europe and life after college. However, as day turned to night we grew hungry and went out to enjoy the tapas lifestyle.

I greatly appreciated the bubbling atmosphere at the tapas restaurant. The several plates of fried calarmari, tacos, and croquettes we ordered came one after the other at a slow rate. On an empty stomach it may not seem like the best service, but in actuality it kept us present. Conversations continued to spark as our attention was guided towards each other instead of one big plate of food. Although impatient at first, we finished our final tapas satisfied and all caught up with each other’s lives. We hurried home afterwards, got dressed in our Halloween costumes and enjoyed Madrid’s nightlife. Just like every other city I’ve visited in Europe, the parties start late and continue on until early morning. I didn’t expect to stay up so late, but as soon as I heard salsa and reggaeton playing in the club no one could take me off the dance floor. It felt like I was dancing with my cousins in Colombia, or even my best friends in Queens. The music that I grew up on, that I hadn’t heard since before studying abroad, filled me with a nostalgic joy.

The next day, my girls and I roamed around the city where I gleefully observed the colorful architecture around us. Every building we passed was covered in pastel tiles with intricate designs that lit up the city in shades of maroon, teal and yellow. After taking in the beauty and some retail therapy, we feasted at the famous “Takos”. This tacos-with-a-K restaurant, according to my friends, served the best tacos in the city and maybe even in the country. Jessenia, whose family is from Mexico, even said taking one bite of these tacos make her feel like she’s back home. Along with detailed descriptions of these tacos, the girls also mentioned that each one was only a euro. It’s safe to say they were really selling me these tacos. Thankfully it was working because by the time I was convinced, we made it to Takos. Better yet, we made it to the back of the line. A line that stretched for a block and a half. If it wasn’t for my friends’ enthusiasm I don’t think I would’ve waited the 45 minutes it took to order. I was starving and a quick McChicken from the McDonalds down the street was calling my name. To make matters worse, it was getting chilly outside but we were only half a block away; too committed at that point to quit. I was told that on any day of the week Takos had an long line, but that it was always worth the wait. The grouchiness that came with my hunger started to shrink as we got closer to the inside, where my senses were met with the smell of delectable South American cuisine. As I scarfed down my al pastor and cochinita pibil tacos, I looked up to the sky and thanked whoever or whatever is up there for my heavenly meal. When I held those tacos in my hand it was like I was holding a masterfully made mixture of mouth-watering Mexican flavors. Exaggerating much? Nope! If I haven’t expressed it enough, these were some life-changing tacos.

When we arrived back to my sorority sisters’ apartment, we were like school children excited for another Halloween-themed night. As most Americans know, Halloween is on one day yet lasts an entire weekend. We were not informed, however, that in Europe Halloween lasts just one day. Who would’ve thought that a holiday would be celebrated only on the one day it was meant to be celebrated? I walked the streets of Madrid with my Fenty Beauty “Stunna” lip paint, a.k.a. red lipstick, running down my face so as to imitate a ghoulish creature. Two of my girlfriends painted half their faces as skulls to honor Mexico’s Day of The Dead. Another held a wooden club while wearing a leopard print dress to honor…nothing really, she just made a cute cave woman! Her hilarious boyfriend, Frank, had a matching neanderthal dress and wig, which was the icing on the cake. We laughed at ourselves when we realized everyone else was dressed in normal street attire. What’s a good Halloweekend without a few tricks? Too bad we were the ones being tricked!

Neleny, a close friend of my sorority sisters’, who they’d met in Spain while working in the same teaching program, was conveniently celebrating her birthday weekend. She also happened to be in the cutest costume with whiskers and cat ears to show. She was a lovely girl and I soon came to appreciate her welcoming, fun and thoughtful aura. Thats why my girlfriends and I agreed to surprise her with a VIP birthday section at the club that night; champagne, sparklers and birthday cake included! We continued celebrating the next evening with an intimate dinner, and a cozy stay in playing the adult version of charades. Ever heard of heads up? When you mix that with adult beverages and more Spanish friends, it makes for an entertaining birthday get-together.

Nearing the end of my visit, I wanted to see the rest of the beauty Madrid had to offer. Our next destination for the time remaining was Parque de El Retiro, or Retiro Park. This park was immense, sizing up to about half the acres that Central Park occupies. It was a perfect, crisp Fall day. The Autumn leaves had yet to fall and it made for a pleasant stroll through the park. When we first entered the park I was introduced to the Palacio de Velazquez, an immense structure with an architectural design from the 19th century. Today, however the pavilion style building serves as an art gallery displaying contemporary work. We then walked by the Palacio de Cristal which was constructed almost completely with glass, letting viewers see the inside from any angle. Originally, the “crystal palace” was used as a greenhouse, but along with the Palacio de Velazquez, it now hosts art exhibitions. Walking deeper into the park, passed children learning how to ride bikes post-training wheels and street entertainers offering puppet shows, we were met with the Retiro Lake. The artificial lake spanned across the northern entrance of the park and invited visitors to rent row boats. It was a fun sight to see people scattered through the lake, struggling to keep their tiny boats afloat but enjoying themselves nonetheless. Alongside the lake is a massive statue of King Alfonso XIII riding a horse, accompanied with sculptures of fierce lions. A colonnade forms a semi-circle surrounding the monument, further creating the atmosphere of allure.

My last afternoon in Madrid landed on the day the city holds it’s weekly “El Rastro”. The Rastro flea market takes place in the heart of Madrid’s historical center every Sunday. On our way to the markets, I got the chance to see old buildings like the notorious Sala Equis. What once was a theater for adult films-the type that don’t require their actors to have much theater experience-was now a multifunctional space for people to enjoy each other’s company. There was a bar, a tapas menu, music coming from multiple speakers, and a projection screen playing classic films. The old cinema had hints of the past combined with a modern style as old theater seats and R-rated movie posters accompanied minimalist interior design and artificial vines extending up the walls. Moving about the historical center I heard the sounds of traditional flamenco music, one of my favorite sounds in the whole world! On the street, an acoustic guitar strummed a romantic melody while a woman sang passionately into a microphone. Another woman, dressed in a classical red flamenco dress, harmonized her body’s movements with the beat of the music. Their audience stretched for almost a block and cheered on the performers for their wonderful display.

We finally made it to El Rastro and boy, was I excited. There were markets selling tapestries, shoes, art supplies, vintage leather and denim jackets, accessories and the list goes on and on. It felt like the flea market went on for miles! Entire boulevards were put on hold for the day so that vendors could hold their markets there. I couldn’t complain, despite losing my friends a couple times in the heavily packed streets, because the prices were unmatched. I had this idea that Western Europe was a lot pricier than the east, but I was happily mistaken. I felt like I just won the lottery and was purchasing as much as my hands could carry. From room decor, to stylish boots, I was buying myself early Christmas gifts while merrily interacting with vendors. My best purchase, however, was a poster for one of my favorite TV series, Casa de Papel, which is set in Madrid! Saks Fifth Ave has nothing on Sunday’s at El Rastro.

I need to get something off my chest. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. This whole backpacking around Europe thing is exhausting. I had an epiphany during last week’s trip in Amsterdam: I’m just not built for this. Don’t get me wrong, I love to travel but everyone’s got their limits. While in the process of confronting the reality of things, I’m also finding the positive in them. For instance, I’ve been feeling warn out from sleeping in a different bed every weekend, carrying hefty travel bags, and waking up before the suns out to get to the ever so menacing airport. I miss the security of my little Prague, I miss having dinner with friends, and I miss writing without feeling rushed due to a flight delay. I’ve been doing this for four weeks straight and I’ve still got three more trips to go. Instead of wallowing in my own self pity, I’m taking this as a life lesson. It’s clear to me now that I have certain limits and I shouldn’t push them for the sake of an adventure. From now on I’ll confidently choose what paths to take in life because I now recognize the person I am. That being said, I still had a phenomenal time in Berlin this past weekend!

This trip was just what I needed after my long weekend in Amsterdam. As I said, I missed spending time with my friends so this time around I traveled with my favorite girls. A good old fashioned girls trip! There’s just something about having your girlfriends around that makes you feel connected, safe and understood. Best of all, I’ve got some hilarious friends. I’m talking laugh until your ribs hurt, tears fall, and breath is nowhere to be found kind of funny. All we did was laugh this weekend. Well that and see stunning sights, dance ’til morning, and eat like royalty. Laugh, sightsee, dance, eat and repeat.

When we first got to Berlin, it was just me and Claudia. The rest of our girls took a later bus so we decided to hang tight at a kebab restaurant/hookah bar. A few too many beers later and some tokes from a hookah, we were ready to party. Except, it was only 8:00 PM and we hadn’t even settled into our hostel yet. So, here we are walking around Berlin for what felt like hours lugging around our heavy bags while slightly incoherent. After a couple, sobering train rides later we finally made it…to the wrong hostel. As I’m writing this now, I can’t help but crack up at our poor decision making. Such amateurs. At least it makes for a good story, right? Sure, let’s stick with that. Anyway, after a grueling 25 minute walk to the correct hostel we lay comfortably in our bunk beds for all of, what was it? Five minutes? In comes the rest of the crew, Raquel, Kate, Jackie, and Zena ready for dinner. Similarly to Amsterdam, Berlin was a city of international foods and people alike. We headed out to get Italian, something we’re always craving. Our pleasant stroll through the neighborhood and our pizza and pasta platters lead to a good night’s sleep.

When we woke up the next morning we were still giggling from whatever goofy incident that happened the night before. I can’t remember if it was the shadow in the alley that scared us silly, which turned out to be just a shovel that had us laughing or if it was someone-who-I-won’t-name’s snoring. Whatever it was, it had us giggling like piglets. As we stuck our heads out from the curtains that covered our individual bunks, it felt like the summer camp experience I’d never had. I’ve stayed at a hostel before, but that was nothing like this. This six-bunkbed room was secluded only to me and my troublemakers so we settled, spoke and snored as freely as we wanted.

It was bright and early when we left the hostel because we didn’t want to waste a minute. We took advantage of a free walking tour and met our tour guide, Leo. Leo was originally from London, England but was living in Berlin for a few years now. He was highly educated on Berlin’s rich history, well-spoken and charming as ever. He made us comfortable despite the emotional memorials we encountered. Firstly, we visited the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, or the Holocaust Memorial. The memorial was created by American architect, Peter Eisenman. It consists of 2,711 concrete blocks standing alongside each other at uneven heights. We were told that Eisenman intentionally made the memorial abstract and undefined. There is no correct interpretation of the blocks as they are meant to spark confusion and unease. With the help of Leo’s sympathetic spirit, we were able to admire what the memorial honored without feeling so heavy hearted.

We continued on to more spaces dedicated to the tragedies of World War II, such as the memorial at Bebelplatz. Bebelplatz sits at the center of the city and is encircled by a beautifully deigned opera house, university, and cathedral. In this lovely public square, a window resides inside the cobblestone to expose empty, underground bookshelves. The bookshelves, created by Israeli artist Micha Ullman, are able to carry 20,000 books. This is the same amount of books that were burned in an intolerant rage by fascist groups on May 10th, 1933. It warmed my heart to learn that every year the students at the neighboring university hold a book sale to commemorate the authors whose books were destroyed. Overall, Berlin was excelling in honoring victims of the past while condemning those who deserved it most. Take Hitler’s bunker, for example. It was nowhere to be found or memorialized since a parking lot was constructed on top of it. Kudos to Berlin for placing absolutely no emphasis on the despicable dictators whereabouts.

Bebelplatz was last on the list for Leo, so the girls and I headed to the Alte Nationalgalerie. This was part of the Berlin National Gallery and it showcased some of the countries finest art pieces. Walking through elaborately decorated halls, we gazed in wonderment at the creativity from the 19th century. The setting was posh, yet we couldn’t help but mimic poses of muses, search for our Neoclassical doppelgängers, or make up silly scenarios to explain abstract scenes. The security guards became our best friends, never leaving our sides in an attempt to subdue our goofy behavior. As much as we appreciated the art, it had been a long day so we had to keep ourselves energized somehow. Even if it meant setting off an alarm or two for the sake of a laugh. When we finally finished our loop around the gallery, we were beat. We went to the hostel, napped and enjoyed a pub crawl with fellow foreigners. A long touristy day ending with an even longer night hopping from bar to bar. That’s the European way.

Seeing as he was such a charmer, Leo convinced us to take another one of his tours around Berlin. We joined him on his alternative art tour the next day where we visited the East Side Gallery, or the eastern end of the Berlin Wall. The wall was divided into vibrant, multicolored murals stretching for miles. Leo taught us about the history of the Berlin Wall, its significance and how its maintained today. The “alternative” part of the tour, however, was the street art in a hidden alley way that lead us to Berlin’s Kino Central. The alley walls were covered in activist slogans, abstract illustrations and overall expressionism art. Every inch of the walls were covered in colorful images produced by spray paint bottles or paint brushes. It felt like the MoMA took a flight to Germany and threw up all over this tiny corner of Berlin. Leo gave us about 20 minutes to get some great content for Instagram, making our media-obsessed hearts sing with joy.

We ended the tour at YAAM, the Young African Art Market. An oasis for refugees and a cultural home to African and Caribbean immigrants. YAAM is constantly winning Berlin’s battle against gentrification as it appeals to those looking for an alternative route in what is slowly becoming a cookie-cutter society. More importantly, it gives a minority group a space to come together and express their creative impulses. When you first walk in, the area is set up with bars and a food court offering cuisines from different Caribbean islands and African countries. As you walk further down you’re encountered with The Spree River where you’re welcomed to lounge. It’s the middle of Autumn, so we weren’t fortunate enough to see YAAM at it’s full potential. We were told it’s essentially a riverside beach club with artistic installments, parties, and performances that go on all summer. Despite the weather, we still appreciated the change of pace with reggae music playing from different ends, putting us at ease. The welcoming atmosphere at YAAM gave us the chance to relax, enjoy Jamaican curry goat, and admire more unique street art.

Another successful day of touring led to a well-deserved, high-in-calories dinner. As always, we were craving Italian and found ourselves in a sweet, hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The food was good, but our waiter was even better. Antonio, or Tony, born and raised in Italy and probably older than all of our dads combined, gave us quite the laugh. He complimented us at every possible moment and even gave us free tap water! Something extremely rare on this continent. “Just for mi bellezze!”, he’d say. We chatted in Spanish and he tried teaching us some Italian. We were his molte belle principesse, and he was our flirty, borderline creepy, Italian stallion. When we were done he surprised us with a bottle of Limoncello, insisting we take a shot before we left. After our cheers, he gave each one of us a hug and kiss on the cheek, wishing us luck and asking that we stay forever beautiful.

If New York City is the big apple, Amsterdam is the giant tree that apple fell from. I’ve only been to about six different cities while studying abroad but, no offense to the rest of Eastern Europe, Amsterdam is taking the lead as one of my favorite places on this side of the continent. I spent five eventful days in the capital of the Netherlands and I’m positive I’ll do it again in the near future. I was fortunate enough to have free accommodation since one of my Aussie mates, Tilly, has a relative who resides right in the center of it all. Thank’s to my friend’s grandmother’s cousin, Heather, we were able to stay on a comfortable sofa bed right in front of a canal.

As Tilly and I climbed up the steep swivel staircase that led to Heather’s living room, we gave each other a look that said, no way did we get this lucky. Heather, a professor working in the Department of Social and Cultural Anthropology at Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, was working on a paper which had her up nights. She essentially told us that as long as we don’t wake her in the morning, we are welcome to do as we please. She made us feel right at home, giving us fresh sheets and towels, offering coffee, and of course giving us her WiFi password. For lack of a better word, Heather’s apartment was mind-blowing! I finally understand how Oprah feels when she checks into a penthouse suite at The St. Regis. Okay, so the apartment wasn’t a five star hotel, but it was better than my dorm back in Prague!

I couldn’t get over the decor which was notably from different parts of Asia, Heather’s main focus of study. In the spaces that didn’t have striking works of art were books. Piles and piles of books. It was a bit intimidating seeing as the last thing I read was a Nicholas Sparks romance novel. I felt like I was in a small version of The Met, with ancient artifacts and classical paintings representing different parts of the world alongside an immense library. I complimented Heather’s interior design and she gave me a smile, shrugged and humbly responded, “it’s not much of a design, more just random stuff that’s accumulated over time”. Although she was quiet, and focused on her writing most of the time, Heather’s small remarks like that made our stay exceptionally comfortable. Not to mention it was free! Intellectual and charitable, what more could we have asked for in a host?

We had an early morning flight so we desperately needed food to enjoy the rest of our day. As I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts, living in Prague makes you feel like a kid in a candy store considering how affordable everything is. So, we were on the hunt for restaurants in our traveling-college-student price range. I was expecting to find local spots serving traditional Dutch cuisine. But, as we walked down the brick roads, I noticed many restaurants offered a foreign atmosphere. It was clear that along with the variety of international foods Amsterdam had to offer, the city welcomed people from all parts of the world. It was nice seeing people make Amsterdam their new home where they could share their recipes, music, and traditions. That’s one of the things I appreciated most about Amsterdam, how much of a melting pot it was.

After some well-deserved Chinese take out, we roamed around the city and watched day turn to night. You would think that means the city would calm down, but that’s not how things work in Amsterdam. The day was mainly filled with the ringing of bicycle bells and then it shifted into an animated scene from Alice in Wonderland. The city was illuminated with bright lights that served as signs for ‘coffee’ shops and bars. Conversations sparked at outdoor dinner tables that were accompanied by pitchers of wine. Lines formed outside of night clubs with attendants dressed to the nines as they waited to be let in. It was such a change of pace for me. When quiet hours in Prague hit at 10 PM, the pregames in Amsterdam are only just beginning. I was in the heart of it all, witnessing firsthand the shift in energy that burst within the city.

The cities charms were clouded by a rainstorm the following morning. Luckily, you could still enjoy the structure of the city with its buildings neatly lined up and and attached to one another. There were also the canals that gracefully flowed between streets, creating silhouettes of the city’s insides. We saw the rain as an opportunity to stay warm inside museums all morning. First on our list was the Van Gough Museum, which beautifully displayed original artwork by renowned Dutch artist, Vincent van Gough. There was also detailed insight on his personal life and on his journey as an artist. I always appreciated van Gogh’s distinctive painting style, but I never knew that his sister-in-law, Johanna Gezina van Gogh-Bonger, was fundamental to the artist’s success after his passing. The next museum we visited was the Stedeljik Museum which displayed modern and contemporary artwork. The abstract paintings intrigued us and at times we stood in awe at the evoking installations. The final and most moving museum was the Anne Frank House. There was a heavy feeling as we toured the home that served as a temporary refuge for Anne Frank and her family. It was comforting to know how much the country where they found shelter honored their memory. What touched me the most was learning that Anne Frank dreamed of being a successful writer and her father made that possible even after her passing. She was passionate about her craft and although she didn’t live to see it, her writing is now known worldwide and will remain eternally distinguished.

Later in the day a couple of our friends from Prague arrived to the Netherlands and we moved about the city taking in our beautiful surroundings. After exploring some thrift shops and splurging on handmade jewelry, we moved from bar to bar then set out to the infamous red light district. Entering the red light district was like riding a roll coaster: the anticipation builds up, you’re dumbfounded by what you’re experiencing then it leaves you in utter disbelief. At least that’s what it was like for me. The lights were cool and all but I couldn’t help but picture myself in the position of prostitutes. They were displayed behind glass windows that were floor length. The displays spread for blocks and had levels starting at basements and ending at top floors. Some were dressed how my sorority sisters and I dress during Halloween, you know, the whole naughty school girl look. Others seemed a bit more disheveled, but dressed for a party nonetheless. It made me reevaluate my costume ideas for next week.

It’s not that I think these women should be ashamed of themselves. It just baffles me how occasionally I will put in the same work as them with the hair, the makeup, and the flattering outfit. The difference is I do it because I enjoy how it feels making an effort to look presentable, whereas these women do it for the attention of men who, from what I saw, were not worth their time. It almost makes me feel guilty that I would walk through these streets watching them at work like they’re animals in a cage. Then, I get to go on with my life while they take care of drunk, sloppy strangers. I guess the guilt is just part of being a woman in a world where your sexual offerings are often commodified. I will say this though, it was like nothing I had ever experienced in my entire life.

When the shock subsided the next morning, we took advantage of the sun’s generosity and did what any Amsterdam resident would do, ride bikes! Riding a bike in Amsterdam is like seeing Times Square in New York City, if you didn’t do it you missed out on what makes the city a place worth visiting. So, we went over to a rental shop and biked through the picturesque, Vondelpark. It’s an immense park with views of towering trees, elegantly designed fountains, and lakes that are home to adorable ducks. Quite an enchanting place to bike through if you can avoid riding over the children at play. As a tourist, it was a challenge maneuvering through the crowds of people. For it’s residents, however, Amsterdam was a city that conformed to bicycles as the main mode of transportation. When looking at the city through a historical lens, I noticed what was once a canal city for merchants is now an accumulation of flat lanes for bikers. It’s as if, with time, the city adjusted to the rhythm of it’s people.

I’d been warned about the bicycle culture and how it would fascinate and simultaneously terrify me. What I mean by this is that it’s extraordinary how there seem to be more bike paths then there are sidewalks, but you’ve got to be on high alert or you’ll get the scare of your life. Nevertheless, it was kind of thrilling having to jump out of the way when I’d underestimate the amount of bike action going on. When I finally placed myself in the position of a biker, I understood why they were always so pleasant despite almost plummeting me. Riding a bike through Amsterdam will have you no other way than delighted. It’s like floating through a world filled with captivating sights at every corner.

For the month of October I plan on being in a different country every weekend. Seems a bit ambitious for a girl who gets lost on the subway in her own city. But, I’ve got to remind myself, you’re only studying abroad once, you’ve got to make the most out of it. So far, so good. I started off in Munich, Germany for the first weekend and for my second trip I went to Krakow, Poland. I came at the perfect timing, might I add. After weeks of enduring bitter cold rains in Prague, the sun finally showed out and joined me on my trip. How lucky I was to have experienced such a gorgeous city while also getting a boost of Vitamin D!

It was seven long hours on bus from Prague to Krakow, the same amount of time it takes to get to my college back home. It’s safe to say I’m a pro at long bus rides. However, I’m no expert at staying awake after getting to my destination. Upon arriving to Krakow, I settled in to my lovely Airbnb, which had an exposed brick ceiling. I’m boasting and I’m not ashamed-it was so cheap! One of the many perks of visiting Poland was how affordable everything was. Once I was comfortable and cozy in my weekend hut, I fell asleep excited for what tomorrow would bring.

Bright and early the next day I went to an all-day breakfast cafe and enjoyed a filling (and cheap) breakfast. As I walked around the city’s main square, I noticed how the architecture, with it’s cobblestone roads and gothic churches, was similar to that of Prague’s. The main difference, however, was how peaceful the city was. There were less tourists, less crowds of students and much more space at tram stops. I quite enjoyed the empty parks in the early morning. Nonetheless, as morning turned to afternoon, the city became more lively especially with the abundance of markets it had to offer.

I’m not one to shop when traveling, but this one square of markets sold everything from winter jackets and pumpkins to fresh flowers and fake Rolex’s. I couldn’t resist. A single blue, train-conductor style hat was calling my name. I tried it on and posed in the small, foggy mirror the vendor held up for me. I think I stood posing for about 15 minutes before I decided to just walk away. As I walked away, I could hear the little blue hat calling my name “Sabrina…Sabrina…oh come on! When will you see an adorable hat like me again? Surely, you won’t feel the same gratification buying one of me at Forever 21”. Anyway, I bought the hat and I don’t think I stopped smiling even once afterwards. The more I explored the streets of Krakow, the more markets I visited. I saw vintage jewelry, traditional and handmade Polish apparel, and handbags with intricate designs. In other words, I was in paradise. I’d go into more detail but as my brother reads my blog I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise I got him!

After enjoying the day strolling around the city, and the night sipping on Poland’s Warka and Brackie beers, I set off to the mountains. I’d wanted to visit the Zakrzówek lagoon ever since I bought my bus ticket to Krakow. I’m probably the wimpiest hiker you’ll ever meet. I’m deathly afraid of slipping on uneven cobblestones in Prague, let alone a mountain trail in Krakow. Here’s where my mantra comes in handy, you’re only studying abroad once…make the most out of it. Despite my hesitant leaps up some hills, and the slippery rocks that had me holding on to my friend the majority of the time, I made it up the mountain. Breathtaking! Figuratively, and literally seeing as my infamous elementary school asthma attacks were kicking in from the hike. When I finally caught my breath, a rush of gratitude came over me.

The weather was comforting, warm with a slight breeze which cooled us off as we trudged through the forest. The season was setting into Autumn as we witnessed trees with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. When we reached the top, the sun was setting giving us a skyline with changing colors of blue to pink. The lagoon was still yet it’s presence was immense. There were friends drinking wine and beer, listening to music watching the lagoon trickle slowly against the wind. A few couples posed for photographers cuddling their newborn, or dressed in formal attire for what would soon be their engagement photos. We were all taking in the magnificence that was the Zakrzówek view. What’s more, was our joy that came from witnessing the view on such a lovely, Fall afternoon.

It was the first time leaving home, my Czech home that is. The first weekend of October, and the last weekend of Oktoberfest-where else would I spend it other than in Munich, Germany? My friends and I headed off early Friday morning to join in on Germany’s annual festivities. We took our preferred mode of transportation, a cheap bus, all the way from Prague to Munich, which took a total of five hours. None of us had any idea what to expect other than a good time. At least thats what our other friends in the program told us when they visited Munich the previous weekends.

There we were, beers in hand, smiles as big as the beer mugs and dirndls and lederhosens on. Oh yes, we wanted the full experience, despite how cold it was, so we wore traditional German attire. We had booked this trip a month in advance and for weeks I was adamant on wearing my trusty blue jeans and chuck taylors. I guess you could call it peer pressure, but I caved and ended up getting a dirndl since my friends were teasing me about not living the so-called full experience. I’m glad I didn’t let my stubborn attitude get the best of me. I loved feeling like a Bavarian Wench (the name of my costume according to the shop)! Despite our efforts to fit in with the theme of the festival, as always it was pretty obvious we were American students. Our costumes looked like they were from Party City, no actually more like the 99 cents store compared to the beautifully designed, authentic outfits some were wearing. Nonetheless, that was the least of anyones worries. We looked great and the party was even greater. As I’m writing this, I can’t help but feel butterflies reminiscing on how much fun it was! I kept telling myself over and over again that this wouldn’t be the last time I came to Oktoberfest-it’s just too good to be a one time thing. I’m aware of how dramatic I sound, but you’d say the same if you went! Especially if your best friends abroad, your Aussie mates, and a bunch of random Europeans were there to slam beers and give a cheer. Wait, I mean give a “prost”!

The one thing that wasn’t so fun, however, were the prices. It’s not that the festival was expensive, per se. It’s just when you’re living in Prague and the beer is cheaper than water, you tend to get a little spoiled. I’d say the price of food and beer were New York City prices, but hey there was no entrance fee so you really can’t stay upset. Besides, when you’re enjoying yourself as much as we did, the prices don’t hurt much. The plus side was that the beer mugs were huge, like the size of my head huge. And despite my love of beer, Oktoberfest beer just has that extra delicious malt flavor that would make anyone appreciate it.

Like I said, I refused to believe this would be a one time thing for me, so I woke up bright and early the next day and went right back to the festival. This time without my dirndl, I didn’t think it’d be appropriate to wear on the bus ride back. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention I went again even though I only had a few hours before my bus home? Worth it. And, it’ll be worth it again the next time I go, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the ne…….

In the beginning, I told myself I’d make European friends. Of course, I did the complete opposite and now my closest friends here are native English speakers. I’m not disappointed seeing as I’ve made some Czech and even German acquaintances and it’s still early in the semester. I can’t be too hard on myself since not all the English speakers are American! That’s right, your girl has done it and made foreign friends-not European, but also not from the homeland. Baby steps, I guess. My new ‘mates’ are from the beautiful country of Australia. Ever heard of the Hemsworth brothers? Well they’re not as attractive as those Aussie gods, but they sure are just as charming! The first night I met them I told them they reminded me of people from back home in New York with their witty comebacks and playful banter. They said it’s because they’re “real Australians” from Melbourne. So my friends and I took these real Australians out on their first night to give them a proper welcome. It was an excellent night to say the least. We laughed, we cheered, we danced until we couldn’t stand and we even booked a train ride together to Brno for the following weekend.

As the weekend rolled around the Australian group and my friend group morphed together into one really loud and fun party. Our day trip to Brno, a small city about three hours from Prague, was a nice break from the busy streets of the capital. We visited the famous ossuary underneath the Church of St. James and the Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul. Towards the end of the trip we decided to take a break from the tourist attractions and enjoyed a bottle (or two…or was it three?) of wine at a local wine festival. It was a Sunday well spent appreciating Czech history, but mainly making fun of each others accents, I reckon.

The following day was spent in the library as classes were back on. It’s a funny thing, studying abroad. You never forget you’re abroad, yet you always have to remind yourself to study. Luckily, with friends like mine I’m never down about the mountain of readings I have to go through. I was especially lucky on this particular Monday as my friends and I purchased tickets to see the renowned Opera, “Carmen”, at The National theater, Národní Divadlo. After finishing our homework, my girlfriends and I dressed to fit the part of sophisticated theater connoisseurs. I don’t know if it worked, but I do know that we felt like royalty sitting in a glamorous theater watching a talent-filled act. Mondays are rough, but we make up for them with pasta and wine after the opera.

After a week of our usual antics, we joined our Aussie’s on their welcome boat party which included exchange students from all over Europe. Baby steps turned into full grown walks on this boat ride. It was a three hour ride across Vltava river accompanied by drinks, a DJ, and new European friends! I met a a French student who, like me, was raised by Colombian parents, a German student who wanted us to visit her home during Oktoberfest and a Greek student who dreamed of living in New York City. I hadn’t had that much fun on a boat since the Pirates of the Caribbean themed kiddie ride I rode at Queens Center Mall when I was 7. But, there has to be a balance to everything. Hence, the break from partying we took later that same weekend.

It was just what I needed. No noise, no drinks, no sweaty dance floors. The open air combined with the vast amount of trees made me feel grounded and safe. Walking across mud flooded steps and narrow, dark passageways between enormous boulders felt like we were headed towards the right the direction. Because even if we were going the wrong way, the adventure was what made it worth it. (Cue Miley Cyrus’ “The Climb”). We reached the top of the mountain to a view that cannot be put into words. I’m talking about Česky Ráj, or the Bohemian Paradise. I had been waiting for this trip since my waitressing days back in New York this summer. It was truly a reinvigorating experience. After so many tram rides and night clubs, I was smiling from ear to ear on this hike. I could tell my tour guide was growing impatient with me as I was often the slowest hiker. I just couldn’t help but stand and stare in awe! What a sight. I can’t believe after all my trips around the Czech Republic, this country still manages to surprise me.

Overwhelmed with unfathomable beauty, yet eager to explore more. Exhausted from constant touring, yet grateful for every second spent in motion. Yes, it’s possible to feel these things all at once. It’s especially true when you’ve been living in Prague for three weeks! So, here I am ready for my first week of classes after having spent five hours every day for the past two weeks learning the basics of the Czech language. I know what you’re thinking, sheesh five hours sitting in a classroom every day? Trust me, I thought the same at first but to my pleasant surprise I started looking forward to seeing my classmates and learning about Czech culture every afternoon. Plus, our professor would occasionally take us on little field trips to see wonderful sights and practice our Czech. Our Professor’s name was Lenka, and we all felt she was a spectacular educator so we bought her flowers and even shared a beer with her! We had visited the Lennon Wall, the Astronomical clock and spent some time at a wine festival in Prague 3 (pictured below with a sign made out of corks). Along with class trips, I was fortunate enough to be given guided tours around Pilsen and Pribram a week before starting our Czech courses. 

Pilsen is a city about 37 miles southwest of Prague and it’s where the famous (and delicious) Pilsner Urquell beer was founded. One of the first things you will learn about the Czech Republic is that there is a huge beer culture. What I’ve noticed, however, is that Czech students don’t overdo it the way my American classmates do. American colleges are infamous for their binge-drinking habits and although I do like to drink in social settings, I feel there is a deeper significance to drinking when in the Czech Republic. This feeling of mine was confirmed throughout my tour of Pilsen. Our wonderful guide, Eva, explained how they drink not to get drunk but as a way to bond with one another. Czech people are very proud of their beer and they express this through the numerous bars, beer gardens, and the freedom to walk around their beautiful cities with a beer in hand. You’re not secretive or trying to avoid punishment when drinking in public and you’re not sloppy or falling off your seats because your friends pressured you to have one too many. Rather, you’re enjoying the rich taste of a flavorful beer and the company of good friends. There’s a sense of liberation and connection to one another when drinking here. And, let’s not forget you’re staying warm in this Fall weather with your slight buzz. 

After having spent a day walking around Pilsen, touring their famous brewery, and having lunch at Restaurace Na Splice, which was built in former fermentation cellars, I felt a lot closer to the other students in my program. Along with the breathtaking sights and good beer, one of my favorite things about studying abroad has been the people I’ve met. We all had to deal with the tough adjustments to a different time zone and pace of life when we first got here. And now, we’re constantly working on our Czech, some days more successful than others depending on your server’s mood. As corny as it sounds, we’re all in this together and it makes things a lot easier. My new friends make it hard to miss home when it feels like I’ve known them for years. Maybe its the city’s romantic atmosphere, but I find myself enamored with every aspect of life in Prague. From my friends, who share my same enthusiasm for this place, to the Trdelnik filled with ice cream I have on night walks around Old Town, I can wholeheartedly say I am falling in love with Prague.

It wasn’t so much starting a new semester nine and a half hours away from home, in a completely different country, that made me nervous. It was everything that had to be done prior to my studies abroad that made me tense. Yet, to say it’ll all be worth it is only an understatement. From my first meeting with the Study Abroad Department to getting all my paperwork signed, sealed and delivered to the Czech Embassy in hopes of getting my student visa approved, every step taken was just another reminder of the incredible experience that is to come. 

As I take a break from packing what will hopefully be my final travel bag (I tend to overpack), I reflect on the last eight months and start to smile. January-March: application, passport, transcript, personal statement, and patience. April: approval. May-August: wait there’s more? Yup! Visa application, course registration and approvals, working six days a week as a waitress to save money, packing and finally taking flight. I’m on the “working six days a week” mixed with “packing” part of my pre-departure journey and I couldn’t be more grateful for everything that has led me here. It was a lot of busywork, but every time I needed someone’s help, they would light up with excitement for me. Now imagine my joy every time someone reminded me of how fortunate I was to have this opportunity, to explore another part of the world, to live as I’ve never lived before!

My older brother had studied abroad in the Czech Republic, taught English in Taiwan for a year and in Colombia for another year. My father left Colombia when he was 18 to explore Aruba to then get deported back to Colombia after a week (a tragically hilarious tale) and then lived in Mexico for two years. My mother spent a year in high school as an exchange student in Indiana, 3,000 miles away from her home in Colombia. I, on the other hand, visit Colombia almost every year. It’s the country in which I’ve gone to summer camp, church, doctor’s appointments, and weddings in. Now that I’m coming close to the end of my undergraduate career, it’s time I follow in my family’s footsteps and step outside of my comfort zone. That’s why I chose Prague, a place with a language, culture, and history that I’m not familiar with. Although I’ve bought Milan Kundera and Franz Kafka’s works to familiarize myself with what is to come, I know that I must have my own experience to fully appreciate this foreign culture. So, here’s to comfort zones and completely abandoning them! And here’s to Prague. I can’t wait to meet you.