Last day, Athens

07.09.2013. Day 88.

I found my feet once again in Athens, where I spent one last night at the familiar hostel, drinking that last free shot of ouzo before ending the day with a few pints shared with other nameless travellers at the hostel bar. I was due for Istanbul the next day, my transit point before flying off back to Singapore. The 3 months sabbatical has come to an end.

Some of the most memorable things:

– Spending 2 weeks as a volunteer at the farms of Mount Pleasant and Bryn Pedol. I am humbled by the experience and the sheer hard work of farmers, and truly grateful to have met such wonderful and inspiring people in Austin and Zoe who treated me with the greatest hospitality. I wish for the opportunity to meet them again in my life.

– Climbing Pen Y Fan and Snowdon, the 2 tallest peaks of Wales

– Witnessing the Adratic coasts of Croatia, Montenegro and  Albania, as well as the Ioanian and Aegean waters of Greece. Some of these places are incredibly touristy, but the views are just out of the world.

– Travelling across the Balkans and began to form my personal ‘favourites’. The stories of Bosnia and Herzegovina touched me deeply, and Albania by its virtue of being so ‘roughed’ and ‘untouched’ gave me my best travel experiences. These are 2 of my favourite countries.

– Boarding a fully packed overnight 8 hours train from Brasov to Constanta, Romania with the expectation of it being a sleeper train, which of course as it turned out, wasn’t. While boarding a bus at Constanta, I was almost pick pocketed. I try to see each country I visit with an open mind, but Romania simply didn’t do too much for me.

– Entering the incredibly friendly Kosovo, before learning that its legal status as a ‘country’ has been contended by many others, including my own. I met some brilliant locals here who showed me to local liquor (Raki), and a fellow couchsurfer even brought me along to meet his friends. We spent the night at some of the coolest night spots, including an active train station turned bar at night. It was random, weird and brilliant. I can’t remember making my way back to my accommodation quite alright!

– The hilarity of bumping into the same people multiple times at different places. There was this fellow British lone traveller whom I met at least 4 times in Prishtina, Tirana, Berat and Gjirokaster. His was a story quite inspiring, of how he was working and saving hard at work, before being deceived by his boss and decided it wasn’t worth it and off he went travelling the world with his life savings. Mine, by contrast ‘Oh, I have 3 months between work and I just enjoy traveling alone‘ is far less. Despite multiple encounters, we made it a point to not travel together and see how many more times our paths will cross.

– Attempting to have my hair cut with absolutely no language ability at Skopje and Gjirokaster. At the latter, I made the local barber scribble prices on my note pad and it showed 2- 400 and 500 Albanian Leks. I opted for the former which resulted in me leaving the barber with a bald head. I didn’t have to have another hair cut after that

– In 90 days I did not make use of a single ride of taxi or GPS to make my way to anywhere. It is a very proud record.

The 3 months journey was long and at times, lonely and tiring, but when driven by the insatiable thirst to see more of this marvelous world, it was always exhilarating and harrowing.

Who knows when will be the next time I can do something like that again?

The tube

As I slowly get used to my new commute on the Metropolitan line from Aldgate to Finchley Road, old habits recycled. I took out my Kindle book reader, all eye contact averted, sat down and enjoyed the pleasant albeit slow journey back home. It was definitely a lot less crowded than the same trip that very morning…

Visitors to London may amuse themselves with the “mind the gap!” announcement or cheap tourists memorabilia with the ubiquitous London Underground logos imprinted on, but what the tube represent to Londoners like me is not only that of a transportation mean; it defines habits, familiarity and a phase in life.

When I first moved here almost 3 years ago, having resided in East London, I could never get anywhere without the Jubilee line, which despite being one of the newest, had developed some sort of propensity for breakdowns and delays. My work place at Embankment station made me an expert with the Circle and District lines, easily distinguished by the colour of the handle bars (yellow and green, respectively). Lovely weekend weather meant trips to Greenwich park were hard to pass on, easily reachable on the unmanned DLR line.

Whilst training as an accountant, the morning rush hour trips to Angel tube station for classes meant battles have to be won to get into the crowded on the Northern line, which when stops at the busy stations Bank and Moorgate, offers much relief (and space!). And of course, whenever it is time for home holidays, I would drag my luggage to Heathrow airport using the Picadilly line, swapping a 40 pound taxi ride with something 10 times cheaper (albeit less enjoyable!).

There are too many of such stories to tell, each defining a phase of life, what I was doing, and what I was about to do. The London Underground is not just the world’s oldest, it is one of its most endearing.

 

Along the Rhine

I write this as I begin my 3 hours journey back to Utrecht, Netherlands from Cologne, Germany. The train cabin I board is a designated silent zone, so I need to do this quietly. Not that there is anyone to mind; the cabin is empty.

I was assigned to the Netherlands for work during the week, and as any travelling enthusiasts would in my shoes, I took a few days off to explore the region.

The largest town near my work place is Arnhem. This Dutch town is quiet, small and non-descript, and despite being a major transportation hub, it is not exactly the most popular place for tourists. Arnhem is most famous as a fierce battleground between the Allied forces and the Nazis during the World War II days, where the former suffered a major defeat. The failure to capture the bridge across the Rhine river (now named John Frost Bridge after a British soldier) caused the war to drag on, inadvertently prolonging the sufferings of all those who were involved. The John Frost bridge of today is sombre, quietly serving its duty for the many pedestrians crossing the Rhine river, the bloodshed images of it now a distant memory.

There isn’t much to see of the John Frost bridge today, but one has to appreciate its historical significance

My next destination was Cologne, Germany. Cologne (or Köln) is a well known location nationwide, largely for the magnificent Cologne Cathedral (Dom), a massive sky-reaching architectural colossal which miraculously survived heavy bombings during World War II. The Dom, said to be the largest in the world by size, greets visitors arriving at the impressive main train station (hauptbahnhof) with its towering shadows. Located along the banks of the Rhine river, the many juxtapositions of the Cologne Dom is a photographer’s delight.

The massive Cologne Dom, an architectural gem

A couple signs a pact of love on the Hohenzollern Bridge

The rebuilt old town (Altstadt) of Cologne is also beautiful, its buildings painted with a palette of pale shades of blue, pink and yellow, a colour theme I noticed of German towns in the Rhine region. While exploring the dim streets at night, my ears brought me into a local jazz bar. Despite being thoroughly alone, the company of Kölsch (local brew beer), the music and the few broken banter with other drinkers meant that I wasn’t terribly lonely.

Kölsch and old school Jazz, can’t get any better

Using Cologne as my base, I was spoilt with choices as to how to spend my last day in the North Rhine-Westphalia region. Upon realising that the ticket I bought was a day pass, I made plans to visit 2 other places. I first arrived at Aachen, one of Germany’s most western town. Aachen, bound to top any alphabetical list, has a very charming old town, with the gorgeous cathedral its crown jewel. It was a great way to spend a few hours, but having been to many other European towns of similar descript, it didn’t keep my interest for long.

Aachen old town

My last destination was Düsseldorf, host city of the 2011 Eurovision contest, and another city built along the Rhine river. Düsseldorf shares a friendly rivalry with near-by Cologne, but while the latter is casual and rustic, Düsseldorf is posh and trendy, known throughout the country for being a fashion forward city. Königsallee, a long street of up-market fashion outlet may be Düsseldorf, or indeed of Germany’s answer to Paris’ Champs–Élysées. As with Cologne’s Kölsch, the locals are immensely proud of their local beer (Altbier), of which I have had the fortune of sharing with loads of other like-minded people in the middle of this chilly fall weather.

Düsseldorf’s skyline at sunset

Königsallee

As I am about to stop writing this, the train stops at a station which I am having trouble finding its name of. I recognise the blue and yellow train across the next platform, so we must be in the Netherlands now. This has been a short but interesting trip. Professionally, I am empowered by my capacity to walk into a foreign country, shake the hands of my counterparts and do business. Socially, I am continually enlightened by all the cultures, languages and sights I have been exposed
to. It is time like this I count my blessings.

The train has moved now. The station name reads ‘Deurne’.

Meeting David

I have been day tripping to so many English towns and cities to know the drill- high streets with the same few stores, a few cathedrals, possibly some weekend flower markets and crowded pubs (especially in great weather).

Outside the oldest pub in England (which is always a contention)

David is someone whom I met when I visited Nottingham (besides being the home to Robin Hood which the city has a nice statue to show for, the above descriptions stay very true indeed).

David is 20 years my senior, travels around the world in his hardy bike, works with photography, openly explains his distaste for all things mathematics, and wears a Harley Davidson ring on his right hand.

In other words, David is nothing like me, and is probably someone I would have never come across in my circle of friends.

It is truly liberating to meet people who sees life in an entirely different light from ours. It challenges us to think about what is important, and re-imagine in our vicious cycle of daily life, what we have been missing out. I always knew that there is a hippie in me beneath that shiny suit I put on to work each day; I just need to discover it more.

Start

I started travelling very late. 21 years old, if I remember correctly. It was the first time I took a plane and the destination was Bangkok, about 2 hours from Singapore. Since then, I have developed a penchant for travelling, and only quite recently, got reacquainted with my passion for photography. I was thankful as both interests give more meaning to the other.

If there’s one thing which I absolutely hate, that will be travel elitism, something which has become quite prevalent in this age of easy mobility. The experience that one gain out of stepping in a different place is entirely personal- no one/ nothing should rob one from having that enjoyment.

I love travelling solo with no planned itinerary, if only because of the freedom that it entails. With all the time to myself, I am more inclined to do things I usually wouldn’t, and thus better connect with the place I am visiting. Having no itinerary opens door to places I never imagined, and this often are the trip-makers of my journey. Granted, this is extremely exhausting and definitely not recommendable to people who associates travelling with stressless holidays!

This blog is started during my 3 week trip in France. Hopefully, between the time I am not busy snapping pictures and planning my next destination, there are some time for me to write about the experiences I gained, which is the very purpose of creating this blog.