In the 20 days since I last posted, I have not only had some Danish cultural experiences, but also have embarked to
Barcelona and
Madrid in Spain and to
Prague during the 2-week travel break that DIS offers us to explore a little of greater Europe on our own terms. I promise that I will attempt to give these adventures their due attention in my writing, and while I'm going to divide the entry into sections for each city (you can click the links above to skip down to those sections), I want to note that the post will probably have a more holistic perspective than what I would have written had I done so day-by-day (or even city-by-city).
Overall, the travel break was certainly a new experience for me, not only planning how to get there and where to stay on my own, but what to do, what to eat, and how to navigate my way through it all. Language was certainly a barrier, since I felt like I know more Danish than I do Spanish (although my Latin background and common sense helped me understand what was going on most of the time), and once in the Czech Republic I knew NOTHING about any of the words I saw, except that I couldn't pronounce it right if I tried. I'm proud of myself (if I'm allowed to say so), and it made me feel a little stronger and wiser for the wear.
One end-result that I found interesting was my eagerness to return to Copenhagen at the end of it all. I don't think it was
just that I was looking for the relief of familiarity after the exhausting demands of traveling and sightseeing (even after only 11 days!). No, visiting a few other European cities helped me realize how much I like Copenhagen as a city itself. While in Edinburgh and Glasgow, I was restless wondering why I hadn't studied in Scotland, my trip this time around left me more satisfied with my decision to go to Denmark. Whether just a cognitive reaction or my true opinion on the matter, that's certainly a good feeling to have.
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I don't know what I was expecting in Barcelona. I knew it was going to be warm down by the Mediterranean, but as far as the mood of the city goes, I think I was picturing it alternately as the cold, yet spiritual ghost-town from Jewel's song "Barcelona" (yes, released when I was in 3rd grade), and then as whimsical place with music and spirit vibrating from Gaudí's mosaics (which, thanks to my longtime friend Ellen, I have been dying to see since I was 12). Surprise surprise, it was neither. We (my friend Nina and I) arrived on the evening of the first, but there was still enough time to take in some of the city's atmosphere and get confused trying to order some less-than-appetizing food and water from a non-native Spanish speaker. Maybe part of it was the palm trees and the colorful skyscraper our our hostel window, but there was something about the city that felt more like we were on vacation in LA or Miami than on a cultural tour in Europe.
The first day we spent walking almost the entire length of the city from Eixample right above the Gothic Old Town (on the coast) to the mountain bordering the northern edge, where we could have taken a funicular railroad up to an amusement park had we arrived an hour earlier (instead, we had a drink at a bar that overlooked the entire city; so that was pretty nice). It was mainly our own version of a walking tour of Antoni Gaudí's buildings, starting with La Sagrada Familia, down to Casa Batllo, La Pedrera, Casa Vicens, and on up to the public park he designed: Park Güell. For the most part, I love the curves and colors in Gaudí's architecture and public art, especially with La Pedrera and the forms of paths and structures in Park Güell. But for some reason, it also felt a little dirty and out of place within the context of Barcelona, and I was a little turned off by Park Güell, both for it's lack of open, grassy space and because it was originally funded by Count Eusebi Güell to be an upperclass garden city, closed off to the general public. It's understandable that you can't enjoy the interiors of his buildings without paying some pretty ridiculous prices (which I didn't indulge myself on), but his outdoor art could not have just been made for the sake of beautifying the city? I guess too I was a little irked that I had based my feeling of Barcelona off his work, when really it doesn't characterize the bustle of the city at all. While all Modernisme buildings are unique in their own right, other ones (like Casa Amattler) have a more traditional architectural style that just fits more with the character of the city. I realize that Gaudí was integral part of the Modernisme movement, which is specific to Barcelona, but may I politely wonder if his work might have been better in another city?
BUT, just because I was a little disappointed with this does not mean I didn't have an excellent time. On days two and three, we explored much more concentrated, yet touristy areas--including Wednesday when we mostly hung out on the beach in the mica-dusted sparkling sand, ate
paella for a late lunch, and went to the ever-so-prestigious museum of chocolate. La Rambla, the main tourist street, was absolutely crazy with pet store kiosks, not-too-talented street performers, and annoying vendors selling
pitos (this mouthpiece that helps you make animals noises, I swear, I was so sick of those sounds by the time I got to Prague). We even stumbled across our first Mercat (the Catalan word for "market"; in Madrid the name was
Mercado, and the concept is common across Spain, apparently)--huge, age-old shelter structures with stalls that opened every day to sell fresh produce, fish, meat, ice cream, and all sorts of goodies. This one had beautiful stained glass panels on the facade.
Just to the east of La Rambla was the old Gothic town, with streets windier, taller, narrower, and darker than any alley I've seen in Copenhagen. Many of the upper floors were apartments with laundry or plants hanging off the patio, and it felt odd to be walking through common class residential areas in the middle of the tourist district. But, from the gorgeous cathedral with it's secluded chapels surrounding a courtyard and goose pond, and the remnants of original Roman walls surrounding the city, the Gothic section of town definitely was the most charming. On Tuesday morning we went underground to the ruins of Barcino (the original Roman city), where they showed us sections that used to be used for laundry and garum. There weren't a lot of detailed artifacts remaining, but it was still very cool to see the foundations of buildings that are 8 meters beneath the rest of the modern city. That afternoon after lunch, we headed to the Museu d'Picasso, where I was really surprised to see some of the sophistication in Picasso's earlier paintings (and childish mishaps in his earli
est ones), as well as some of his pottery work, which was super cool. The museum also features his 58-image series of reinterpretations of Velaquez's
Las Meninas. It was really interesting how looking first at Picasso's image, I had a lot of apprecation for them and the work that was put into finding the perfect abstract forms. But after viewing the video that compared Picasso's work with the sections of Velaquez's original, it seemed like a pathetic attempt of a copy. It's strange how things work that way.
We were really fortunate in Barcelona to meet up a few times with Nina's friend Lucy who was studying there for the semester. I like learning about things wherever I go, and that's hard to do when you don't know much of the language, the English displays are limited, and you don't want to dish out a lot of money for tours. So Lucy was not only a nice companion to show us some of the city life, but she was also a great resource for learning about politics in Barcelona and Catalan language and history in the context of the rest of Spain. On Tuesday, she showed us a restaurant for lunch called La Champagneria (I think), where for every two sandwiches you bought, you could get a bottle of cava (traditional Catalan sparkling wine) for 2 Euro. There were no seats at all to sit, just a crowded bar you had to push through to order, and small ledges to set your bottle and glasses, while sandwiches were kept in a wrap in your hand. It's not something I'd like to experience as a regular lunch routine, but it was certainly a fun time, laughing and attempting to converse over the din of loud Catalans crowded in a small space, drinking more cava than I should at one in the the afternoon, and enjoying some pretty good smoked salmon. It's also a little odd that lunchtime ended up being more exciting than that evening when we met up with some of the IES Barcelona students to chill outside at a bar in Plaza del Sol in the Gràcia district. That area of town was very pretty at night (and it was already pretty in the day), with magnolia trees, the lantern lights, and only the quiet murmur from the bars (though that might have been because 11 pm was still too early in the evening for things to really get started).
Madrid: Thursday 05 - Saturday 07 November
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Nina and I took the Renfe overnight train from Barcelona to Madrid, which was an experience in itself that I wasn't really expecting. Even though we had paid 10 more Euro to get bunks, I think the coach seats might have been just as good a deal, considering I was stuck in a tiny compartment with 6 bunks, pillows no more than a centimeter thick, and a girl right above me who hissed at me when I accidentally hit the bottom of her bed after I had gotten up for a bit (even though she was awake and watching something on her phone the entire time?). It was also during the night on the train that I started catching some sort of flu, and by the morning I was not in the mood to do anything. I had to, since we couldn't check-in to the hostel until noon, but we were able to drop our stuff off, chill out in the weather that once again felt like November (a surprisingly nice change), and warm ourselves up with our first taste of churros dipped in incredible, thick hot chocolate. However, once we did check-in, I was too sick to get back up and out to the city until 5 or so.
While Barcelona is a little smaller than Copenhagen, Madrid is enormous. But we chose only to stay in Old Town and Bourbon Town, which was small enough that we didn't have to use the metro at all except getting from the train station and to the airport. With the help of a guidebook on Spain and a little internet research in the evening, we were able to learn some about the old buildings and sculptures we passed as we walked back and forth through the two districts. There's a lot of history in a capital city like Madrid, almost to the point that it was overwhelming. But it was nice just to stroll through an area (arguably) less chaotic than Barcelona, hitting up awesome playgrounds, listening to slow trumpeters, and feeding sparrows (which, after just one crumb was thrown to one bird, flocked completely around our park bench). We had some tapas and beer in a bar while watching the muted telenovella about Antoni in the Time of Revolution (I think?), and we wandered into La Latina one evening to try a drink in one of the older bars. Even on the times we "went out," it was all just really chill.
But, there are also two outstanding art museums in Madrid that we couldn't miss. We managed to see all of one floor and parts of another in the extensive masterpiece collection of Museo del Prado during its free hours from 6 to 8 in the evening. Apart from seeing Spanish works, like the original
Las Meninas and works by Goya and El Greco, the museum also had some really impressive paintings by Rubens and some of the most gorgeous inlaid tabletops I have ever seen (seriously--I enjoyed every tabletop displayed in some of the gallery rooms. There were even two where the artist full-out painted the design before moving on to the actual table). I was particularly struck (and a little disturbed, to be frank) of
La Trinidad by Rubens, which featured incredibly realistic stigmata on the figure of Christ. There was also a more medieval-aged tri-fold panel with hell, earth, and heaven--a subject I always find a little interesting in interpretation. Unfortunately, I didn't get enough time to examine it before the closing bells rang and they ushered us out of the building.
I tend to like contemporary art better, but I surprisingly ended up being more impressed with El Prado than with the Reina Sofia 20th century art museum, which features some Dali, as well as Picasso's giant mural
Guernica (which is pretty incredible, I must say). The art on display was great overall, but the building used to be a hospital, so the layout (and English descriptions . . . ) was a little to be desired for. On the other hand, it was still super cool to see some of the earliest films, a giant metronome by Man Ray, and a temporary exhibition on Russian Constructivism (which was a nice transition theme for my trip to Prague that evening). Plus, the Reina Sofia was nice enough to offer free student admission.
Last but not least, we spent one afternoon visiting the
Catedral Nuestra Señora de Almudena (Cathedral of Our Lady of Almudena). Interestingly enough, "almudena" is taken from an Arabic word for city, and the name references the time that the Virgin Mary appeared in the city walls and she was named the patron saint of Madrid. While I liked the colored lights shining on the cathedral at night, it didn't have a particularly attractive exterior (Neo-Classical = not my style). However, I'm really glad we ventured inside, since it features a Gothic-style sanctuary (my favorite), very modern stained glass, and speakers that filled the hall with some incredible choral music. The ceiling is painted in bright colors, and words representing the word of god appear in several different languages in the stained glass behind the nave. The building itself didn't particularly call to me, but especially with the music playing, wandering around the cathedral had a very calming effect on my day. We also ventured underneath into the Neo-Romanesque designed crypt. Apart from offering the BEST English-translated brochure I have ever seen (including such gems as "sumptuous the columns" and "Ahhh! the tombs!"), I saw a beautiful stone interior with unique capitals on the hundreds of supporting columns.
While the morning I arrived in Madrid I had some good first impressions and was hoping to like it a little better than Barcelona, I wasn't so sure of this by the time I left, and I didn't feel like the two cities were ALL so different. Spain, in general, may just not have been my type of country. With the exception of the Modernisme buildings in Barcelona, the buildings weren't particularly my style; the food, while tasty, did not leave me starving for more; and the prevalent Catholic culture--while not over-bearing--felt like just a little too much to handle. But that's ok! I've seen it, and I'm happy to say I've visited Spain.
Prague: Sunday 08 - Wednesday 11 November
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Let me just say this first: I LOVE PRAGUE. Despite a little bit of
trouble getting there, the city left me with a sense of awe: with natural beauty, with the centuries of stories etched in the stone structures, and with the fighting character in a city ravaged by despotic governments in the past 100 years. On top of that, it was just really nice to be able to spend time with my friend Kate, not only just to see a friend, but also to learn a little about the Czech Republic, eat some
really cheap American-style Chinese food, and share experiences both about our time abroad and in relation back to DePauw.
With only five hours of sleep, we took our time just talking and slowly getting up and out of her dorm on Sunday. But for the afternoon we headed out to Divoká Šárka--a nature reserve on the edge of town (with some interesting
legends, if you'd like to read about it). Even though I live a good 25 km south of Copenhagen's city proper, it has been tiring for me to be stuck in a city environment all the time, and this walk was just what I needed for a little refresher. The wet yellow and red leaves stood out brilliantly against the black rock wall face, the air felt crisp and clean, and families flew kites on the grassy top of the rocks. From the top, we could see the star-shaped summer palace that Kate had learned about in class but had no idea how to get to, and so we decided to embark on an adventure to find it. We ended up winding through more forested paths on steep hillside until we got up close to it, but we still made it!. Although the building was closed, we still found an open park with several Czech families playing frisbee, walking with their dogs, or just enjoying the fall air.
Since Kate had classes almost all day, I spent the next few days exploring some of the city on my own and eating pastries from Tesco that were one third the price of Copenhagen 7-Eleven pastries. Kate walked me up to the grounds of Vyšehrad fortress, where her classes, a pleasant park, the Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, and the cramped yet charming Vyšehrad Cemetery stand. After that I just saw the main sights, admiring art noveau at the Mucha Museum, watching the apostles bid you "hello" at the hour on the Astronomical Clock in Old Town Square, walking by the darkened statues on the Charle's Bridge and wondering about their stories, and admiring the (mostly relevant) proclamations of peace on the John Lennon Wall in Mala Strana (Small Town). Prague was also bustling enough to let me find some perfect Christmas gifts, which I am very relieved to have gotten (almost) done.
Although I didn't pay for the audio tour of Prague Castle, I was still able to visit St. Vitus Cathedral, which is the tallest structure in the complex and the most beautiful cathedral I have ever seen. Construction started in the 14th century, but it wasn't not finished until the early 20th century, so the building features a Gothic style in old, worn stone, some Neo-Gothic designs and experimental structures, art noveau embellishments in the stained glass, and some extravagant crypts in the chapels around the nave. Although there were no speakers to echo music throughout the sanctuary, my visit to St. Vitus Cathedral affirmed a suspicion I started to get in Madrid: my favorite thing to visit in cities is not always the museums, but cathedrals and historical places of worship. Even in a very agnostic and/or atheistic country like the Czech Republic, the buildings feel so powerful and speak so much about the people who built them. I wish now I had taken the time to inside the Old-New Synagogue in the Jewish quarter, but at the time, I had not really given thought to it. And, maybe I WILL go back to Spain some day, post-2025, so that I can see the inside of La Sagrada Familia.
The last thing that really struck me in Prague was how recent history has left its mark on the city--with some really ugly Soviet-era buildings and older ones left in disrepair--and its people. In the states, we learn about the Holocaust and about the later Communist regime in school, but to
see what it has done to the regions they affected is a totally different experience. I was fortunate enough on Monday to attend a guest lecture at Kate's study program with a Holocaust survivor who painted her life in Terezín (a Nazi-German Jewish ghetto in the Czech Republic) when she was 12 and later, drew some of what she saw in Auschwitz. Now, she is a lucid and happy-appearing 80-year-old woman, but her stories were horrid and moving. I guess I least expected the very visible effect that Communism left. Whether through the funny, yet obviously biased posters for the Museum of Communism, a very striking memorial to the victims of the regime, or just the temporary exhibit that displays personal stories from the tumultuous 20th century, it is apparent that the Czech people have not yet come completely to terms with that period in their history (which ended 20 years ago this coming week). I think that's a good thing: we shouldn't forget.
